Grave Tending

There’s been a spate of death again—mostly parents of good friends. So, I’ve been thinking about graveyards. I spend a lot of time in graveyards—not because I’m morose or melancholy—but because in the gardening off season, I help people with their family trees, and graveyards provide a wealth of information. You get to find out who is buried with whom and who isn’t in the family plot.

I like the old country graveyards with the upright headstones of different shapes and sizes better than the new memorial gardens with flat stones that make it easy for the mower but uninteresting for visitors.

My favorite graveyard is the one on Justøya, the island in southern Norway, where most of my family is buried. I like it because I can tend the graves there. It’s another place to garden and make lovely. It’s an act of love that provides an opportunity to remind me of my roots and history. I am used to bringing my own equipment, but in recent years, the church provides trowels and cultivators and buckets for hauling water from the well. There’s also a wheelbarrow for hauling away the weeds, but many people just heave them over the fence to the sheep that graze there.

Even though there is a protocol about who is responsible for which graves, I do pull weeds on graves we’re not tending. (I do this when I visit US graveyards, too.) Planting and painting (touching up the names that may have faded over the winter) are strictly for the responsible parties. The florist on the mainland has annuals marked especially for gravesites, which change with the season. Some graves now have perennials or rose shrubs, so the annuals get tucked in rather than take center stage.



I don’t have any experience with grave tending in the US. I don’t know whether there are similar rules about who can/should tend which graves. If you do, I’d love to hear from you. Post a comment and let me know how it works here.

Grapes—Not Just for Jams and Wines

Believe it or not, we can make wine—from grapes--here in Minnesota. Some of it is quite good, too! I had the opportunity to sample some Minnesota wines while I was at the Fair, where they defined “fruit” wines as those made from raspberries, blackberries, and rhubarb, rather than from grapes.

In my neighborhood, several people have grapevines. Most of them use it to cover old chain-link fences or to make a few pints of jelly or juice. Because of our short growing season and cold, dry winters, most years are not conducive to great grape harvests. This year, however, produced a bumper crop.

The octogenarian sisters who live a few doors down from me have a grape vine on an arbor in their backyard that has taken over their clothesline this year. And, their grapes are abundant. After a momentary vision of the Baldwin sisters from an ancient TV program called “The Waltons,” I wondered whether they were going to make jelly with all those grapes.

It turns out that the sisters don’t have the grapes for the fruit at all! Lillian explained, “We’re Greek, you know. Mother had the vine planted for the leaves.” Wow. I couldn’t have predicted that response in a million years. It never would have occurred to me that a crop many people value for the fruit would be equally as valued by others for the foliage. I love when my world gets bigger!

Neighborhood Plant Swap

I’m in a book group with the women on my block. It gives us a chance to get together and read and have a snack and visit each others’ homes. At our last book group meeting, we realized that we were all were gardeners, too. So, we decided to have a plant swap. We included gardeners from other blocks in our neighborhood, too!


We picked a Saturday afternoon so we’d have time to dig things up in the morning (or just sleep in) and then plant later in the day (or plant on Sunday). And, of course, we had snacks. We set it up in my driveway and we had the garage ready in case of bad weather.

The weather was as fabulous. The plants people brought were equally as fabulous. They came in pots, boxes, bags, and buckets!

We had iris (bearded and Siberian), day lilies, sedum (upright and creeping), turtlehead, ligularia desdemona, anise hyssop, lemon balm, liatris, Lamb's Ear, rudbeckia, primroses, baptisia, summer phlox, artemesia, hosta lancifolia, sedge, Karl Foerster grass, wild geraniums, Tiger sumac, and a few more. I put out some “shelves” and tables so some of the plants could be closer to eye level for easier viewing.

Everyone was excited about the selection. Being Minnesotans, however, the swap part of the day was slow to get going—nobody wanted to be the first to take something! But, after a few snacks, we got over it, and started making piles or trips home with our goodies.

I had a shovel and some extra pots in case people wanted to dig stuff out of the garden that I hadn’t potted. Only the big pot is left! I hooked up a hose to the rain barrel so we could water in the things we’d potted.

At the end of the afternoon, even the “common” things found a home. (Day lilies, anyone?!) We decided that all the “leftovers” will go to the community garden addition next week. And, everyone agreed it was a GREAT way to spend a sunny September afternoon. Maybe we’ll do it again next year!

Sorting Seeds

Right before Labor Day, I took a couple days of vacation to build a compost bin and install the stone steps in the west hill. I didn’t accomplish either of those projects. The weather didn’t cooperate fully. And, truthfully, although my heart was in it, my body just wasn’t up to it. So, I puttered. I planted here; I weeded there. I moved things around and mulched.

And, a funny thing happened when I was puttering here and there--I noticed the seed pods and seed heads. When I was mulching the lupine hill, I noticed the coreopsis had set seeds. When I was weeding the rose corner, I notice the stellas had seed pods. And, when I was watering the herbs, I noticed that the cilantro had turned to coriander.

So, I got out my seed sorting equipment and spent the afternoon sifting and sorting seeds. I like my plastic Tupperware colander for the first round of coriander and lupine seeds. The chaff and stems stick to the plastic rim and I can clear it off with my finger. After most of the chaff and stems are gone, I can pour them into the smaller strainer. Then, they can go into the baggies. The coreopsis was harder to sift and sort. And, if you’ve ever seen a coreopsis seed, you don’t have to wonder why one of the common names is tick-seed.

Stellas don’t really need any sifting, you just pour them out of the seed pods into your hand (or the baggie)—unless, an earwig comes out of the seed pod with the seeds, in which case, the seeds get scattered from here to kingdom come while you’re doing the ookie bug dance on the sidewalk. Thankfully, they’re big, shiny diamond shaped seeds that are pretty easy to see. So, I was able to recover some of them.

Seeds made an appearance at our neighborhood plant swap today, too. More on that tomorrow. Carol brought Baptisia seeds. Mary Kaye brought 4 o’clock seeds, and Theresa brought perennial hibiscus seeds. The hibiscus pods are so interesting, I asked her to hold them in her hand for a snapshot before giving them away!

I guess the point of my meandering, puttering tale is that if I had stuck to the plan and built the compost bin and installed the stone steps, I most likely would have missed the opportunity to collect and save the seeds from some of my favorite plants!

An Award, For Me, Really?!

Donell at Sheshapesup bestowed the "Versatile Blogger" award meme to Auntie K’s Garden. The rules of the award meme require me to mention the awarding blogger, tell you seven (7) things about myself, and then nominate 7 other blogs for the award. Nominating the blogs will be easy. I have so many favorites I can hardly keep up! I’m not very good at talking about myself, though. Yes. I know. I reveal bits about myself in various blog entries, but this will be like a seven-course meal of all me. But, those are the rules, so here goes:

1. I’m a first-born, a Capricorn, and a Norwegian. Some people have told me that’s the trifecta of overachievers.
   
2. I belong to three book groups: One with my neighbors, one with the senior high girls at my church, and one with a group of mostly lawyers. (I’m not one.)
   
3. Saturday mornings are my Sabbath time. I take Monty for a walk and then drink an entire pot of coffee – reading or writing whatever, until the coffee is gone. Then, and only then, do I do actual work.
   
4. I was an English major when Computer Science and Information Technology were the popular (and guaranteed to make you a million) programs. Many friends scoffed at my choice, but 30 years later, I still have a job in my chosen field.
   
5. I love baseball – especially Little League. I’m the scorekeeper for both nephews’ teams. It’s a rare occasion when I miss one of their games.
   
6. I celebrate all 12 days of Christmas. I put my tree up on the first day of Advent and take it down on Epiphany/the Twelfth Night.
   
7. I met my closest friends when I was a synchronized swimmer in Junior High School. We’ve laughed and cried together more times than I can count since then. I love them like sisters.
   

Okay. Each of blogs/bloggers on my list has encouraged and/or shaped Auntie K's Garden. I'm grateful for their support:

• An Oregon Cottage
  
• Book Besotted Librarian
  
• Canoe Corner
  
• Miscellaneous Missives
  
• My Northern Garden
  
• (Not So) Urban Hennery
  
• Rachel Rambles and Ravels
  

That Floofy Thing on Top

When you’re interested in gardens, people ask you questions about plants. When you’re interested in gardens enough to volunteer for the Horticultural Society, more people ask questions – of all kinds. Most of the time, people ask about re-potting their plants or how much water they should give their cacti. But, an interaction with one woman has stuck with me. Here’s sort of how it went.

Woman: What’s that plant outside with the long leaves and that floofy thing on top? Me: Cattail? Milkweed? Woman: No. It couldn’t be that. Wait. I’ll go take a picture with my phone. (pause) Here it is. Me: Oh. That’s purple fountain grass. Woman: It can’t be grass. My grass at home doesn’t have that floofy thing. Me: Well. That’s because we mow the grass before the seed head forms. If you stopped mowing your grass, it would get a seed head, too. Not quite as magnificent as the seed head on the purple fountain grass, but it would get one. Woman (to the other volunteer): She’s kidding me, isn’t she? Other Volunteer: No. She’s not kidding.

I was talking to a couple of friends about “that floofy thing on top” and Courtney reminded me that some seed heads aren’t floofy, they’re spiky. Since that weekend, I’ve been looking at grasses and noticing their seed heads. From far away, they all do look “floofy” – almost like a fox’s tail -- but up close, some are quite stiff and others are spiky. I don’t have any grasses in my garden (I took these snapshots in a neighbor’s garden) but because of that one conversation, and a couple weeks of looking closely at grasses, I’m thinking about including them in my garden next year.

What about you? Do you have grasses in your garden? Are their seed heads floofy, stiff, or spiky? Post a comment and let me know!

Note: Apologies for the lack of Purple Fountain Grass photos. I haven't seen any since my volunteer shift!

Dated Gardens

Do garden styles come in and out of fashion? Are there plants that are so “yesterday” no self-respecting gardener would use them in her/his garden? If so, what are they?! (Say it ain't so, Stella.) These are the questions that have been plaguing me since I had a conversation with a guide at one of the State Fair gardens. He told me one of the gardens would be overhauled during the off-season because it was “dated.”

I’ve been really intrigued by his comment because I can spot a dated kitchen a mile away. (Harvest Gold, anyone?!) And, even I, not a fashionista by any stretch of the imagination, wouldn’t be caught dead in a polyester dress shirt anymore. But, I can’t for the life of me figure out what makes a garden “dated.”

I have noticed that gardens/plantings at businesses at industrial settings have a similar look (a couple of spirea, some day lilies, and a hydrangea or two) but the home gardens I see on a regular basis don’t seem “dated” to me. They seem to reflect the interests and passions of the homeowner/gardener. Each one is unique. Even on my block, where we share plants, which could create a bland look, each garden looks different. I think that’s because the personality of the gardener comes through.

I still don’t have an answer to what makes a garden “dated.” If you have any ideas, please post a comment and help me out!