A Lesson in Cauliflower

Cauliflower.  To me it's almost tasteless.  Bland.  But, I still eat it.  And last fall I decided to grow it.  Little did I know I would learn so much from two little plants.

The first cauliflower started out o.k.

But it started turning pink!  I hurried to research the problem.  Apparently, because the leaves never fully matured, it left the head open to the sun's burning rays.  The sunburned parts turn pink.  The pink is not harmful, although the pink areas are supposedly not as nutritious.  Still, I ate the entire head, pink and all, and it tasted just fine.

The second lesson came from the following:

See the green looking cauliflower?  See the odd shape of the head inside?

If I thought a pink cauliflower was bad, I was really concerned about a green one!  A green one that was starting to look like it had a mind of its own, growing in some strange pattern.

You see, I had purchased both of these as plants, not seeds, and I actually didn't remember (and of course, didn't label) what I had planted.  After having a pink cauliflower, I panicked when I saw a green one!  I should have researched it then, but I didn't.  Thinking the green cauliflower head with the strange pattern was defective, or at least starting to bolt, I didn't take any more pictures, but immediately ate the evidence.

It tasted like cauliflower to me.

Of course, later on I researched it.  It's supposed to be green.  With an odd pattern.  That's because it's a Romanesco broccoli, also known as Roman cauliflower.  Seems it can't make up its mind what it wants to be when it grows up.

The lessons?  Pink cauliflower is sunburned.  Green cauliflower is a different variety.  Enjoy its strange look.  And plant more next fall!

I also harvested just a bit of lettuce.  That is the very last of the plants from my garden planted last fall!

I'm joining Christine and Barbie at The Gardening Blog for Garden Bloggers Harvest Day.

A String of Pearls

Every woman should own a string of pearls, don't you agree?  (If you're a woman, you'll probably say yes, if you're a man, maybe not!)  Pearls are classic and will never go out of style.  Simple and beautiful, they dress up any outfit from a simple black dress to an outfit with blue jeans.

Today I'm going to introduce you to a rose that is like a string of pearls.  Simple and beautiful.  It could fit in almost anywhere.

This is Perle d'Or rose (translated it means Gold Pearl).  It's small peachy-pink blooms are like tiny little pearls, glistening in the sunlight.  So sweet, so petite, so delicate.

But the rose is not.  Designated an Earthkind rose, this rose is tough, drought tolerant, tolerant of many types of soils, disease resistant, and grows in zones 6 through 9.

Mine has gotten quite large (over 5 ft.), but this rose could easily be kept around 3 ft tall.   It would look wonderful grown in a container as a patio rose where you could see the details of its bloom.  Not yet convinced?  This rose is almost thornless, and fragrant.  I listed it as one of the top 5 old garden roses in my garden.

Classic, simple, beautiful.  Just like a string of pearls.

I'm Seeing Red!

The Knock Out roses have started blooming in the walking garden!  Oh, how I love to see them bloom.  This makes me fall in love with this garden all over again.

I know Knock Out roses have been much criticized.  And a lot of rosarians may wonder why I grow Knock Out roses here, when I grow so many different types of roses.  Well, let me explain.

Remember, this bed was designed to be a plopping garden.  A garden with a lot of bulbs and perennials.  When I put this garden bed in, I knew this bed might take a lot of my gardening time.  But I wanted roses here.  Of course, I also wanted those roses to be easy maintenance, very disease resistant, bloom constantly, and red.  I could have chosen another rose, but I chose Knock Outs.

Maybe I'm too sensitive, but I'm tired of feeling like I need to defend my choice.  Knock Outs are a rose, and if you find them too many places (shopping malls, every neighborhood, along the highway), that is because they give people what they want - a rose that is extremely disease resistant and blooms constantly.  I know they're not disease resistant in every area, but here, they are ideal.  The only thing lacking is fragrance.

I'm glad I made the decision to put Knock Out roses in this bed.  (There are other roses in this bed, by the way.)  From now on, in this blog, I'm treating Knock Outs like any other rose in my garden - without embarrassment or apology, and with love.

Magical may not be the first adjective you think of when you think of Knock Out roses, but especially in spring when they first bloom in my garden, they are magical to me.

Oh, My!

Abraham Darby has only been in my garden for a couple of years.  He's stuck in the back, where I have to go behind the main rose garden to see him.  The plan is for him to eventually grow high enough as a climber to bloom over the other roses in another year or two.

Seeing a flash of color, I decided to travel back there to see if he was blooming.

Oh, my!  

Gorgeous.  Huge (every bloom is 3-1/2" across!).  Fragrant. 

So many petals stuffed into one bloom!

Don't look for me in the garden - this year I'm going to be behind the garden.  Enjoying Abe.  

Abraham Darby

Watch out, Tamora!  If you don't start blooming soon, Abraham Darby just might knock you off your throne as my favorite Austin rose.

I'm joining Chris at The Redneck Rosarian for Fill the Frame Fridays.

Come Hither

Years ago, a friend of mine moaned to her mother that no male was paying attention to her.  What's a girl to do?  Her mother replied, "Give him the come hither look."  She then gave a low, flirty stare out of the corner of her eyes.  I laughed, thinking "come hither" was a joke.

But a few years later, that same friend and I liked the same young man.  And while we were all together one day, I saw her give him the "come hither" look.  Obviously, she knew her mother wasn't joking, because he asked her out!

Darn it!

Golden Barberry (Berberis thunbergii 'Aurea')

Whenever I see a photo of a garden that I think is beautiful, I try to analyze why it works and what it is that I find so appealing.  I may not be able to copy the garden, but I can possibly copy the concept.

I looked at one of my favorite photos for a long time.  It was of a central pathway with plantings on either side.  I felt as if I could figure out why that garden looked so beautiful, perhaps I could mimic some of those design qualities in my pathway garden.

I noticed a couple of things.  One, they repeated the same color on both sides of the pathways, and repeated that color all the way down the pathway.  Although it looked like it was just an abundance of color and flowers, in reality it was a finely tuned design.  The repeat of the same color all the way down the pathway drew the eye forward, and also begged you to walk down the path.  I nicknamed it the "come hither" design element.

The "come hither" element in my pathway garden comes from the golden barberries (berberis thunbergii 'Aurea').  Bright, with small leaves, they don't initially hit you as a big part of the design scheme.  But, I'm hoping, that subconsciously the repeat of these plants pulls you forward.

You can see three in this picture.  There are actually six of these bushes in this garden.

I love these golden barberries.  I love their lemon-lime coloring, their naturally rounded shape, their small size (mine are between 2-3 ft high and wide), and their little leaves.  I think their lime green coloring goes well with so many other plants, too.  And come fall, they turn a beautiful burnt orange.  The only thing I can say against them is they have thorns.  But it seems like everything in my garden has thorns, so I'm used to that feature.

Golden barberry is deciduous, and grows in zones 3 through 10.  They are my "come hither" plant.  Can't you see them giving you a low, flirty stare?

Tracery

Tracery.  A word that is not in my every day language.  But it was the word chosen for Word 4 Wednesday.  Have you heard of Donna's meme?  Every month, Donna of Garden Walk Garden Talk picks a word randomly, and bloggers write a post using that word.  Today the word is tracery.

Tracery?  Hmmm.....  Sometimes her words are quite challenging.

Tracery's an architectural word, the definition being:

1. Ornamental stone openwork, typically in the upper part of a Gothic window.
2. A delicate branching pattern.

Well, I don't have any gothic windows in my garden.  But I did see this the other day which reminded me of stained glass:

Before I had a chance to look up what I thought was a butterfly, Cynthia of On a Hays County Hill identified it as an Eight-spotter Forester moth (Alypia octomaculata).   A moth!  Not a butterfly.  A moth that is frequently seen during the day.

Like this Hummingbird Clearwing moth (Hemaris thysbe), that is also often seen during the day:

What does this have to do with tracery?

Well, as I was noticing the Eight-spotted Forester's wings, and the beautiful (although hard to see) pattern on the clearwing hummingbird moth, I realized there was tracery everywhere in the garden.

In every butterfly:

In the smallest of blooms:

Even foliage:

Tracery

Tracery

Tracery

I couldn't stop seeing it, once I had started!

Man-made tracery may be pretty.

But nothing compares to the intricate patterns and beauty of nature.

I guess that's why God is often called the Great Architect.

Look for tracery in your garden.  I guarantee you'll see it.

Thanks, Donna, for another word that opened my eyes to seeing the garden in a different perspective.

It's Blooming!

I'm a plopper.  I admit it.  When I first started my garden, I was a planner, but I soon became a lover of plants, and so my plopping days began.  In fact, my walking garden was designed to be a plopping garden!

Marcia of Birds, Blooms, Books, etc., generously gave me some purple irises last year.  I plopped them in the walking garden.  I have other irises in that garden.  Mostly white ones, but also some purple ones.  As a plopper, I didn't remember exactly where I had placed Marcia's irises.   So when purple irises started blooming, I wasn't sure if it was my purple irises, or the ones I received from Marcia.

But because I blog, I can look back to see which iris was here last year.

This is the iris I received from Marcia.  It's a beautiful, deep, royal purple, with frilly petals that have a white edge and a pure white top.  I love it.  Thanks, Marcia!

Plopper, planner, novice or expert - blogging is wonderful because:

• I've met some of the sweetest, most generous, and helpful people.  All with an interest in a hobby I love.
• I've got a record of my garden.  That has really helped me see the differences in the garden from year to year.

If you're not a blogger, but have been thinking about it, I say - try it!  At the very least, start taking pictures of your garden.  You will be amazed how useful - and enjoyable - it can be to have a daily record of your garden and its blooms.

Has having a daily pictorial of your garden helped you?