I can hear you sigh. First, with delight, and then you remember purple alliums don't often return for a repeat performance here. Not even an encore. I don't know why. Perhaps, we water too much, or it's too hot, or too cold. You know we have all those issues in Oklahoma. Well, some of us have better luck with Allium sphaerocephalon, drumstick alliums. In fact, I was told at an OHS meeting that one gardener found them as invasive as garlic chives. I haven't found that to be true here. I'm just grateful if they return. Even in close proximity, gardens and gardeners are very different. What works for one doesn't always for another. And, that's okay. In meantime, this is why I plant alliums of all sorts and stripes--except for the white ones. I think they just look like a giant onion gone to seed, and I can have...

In everyone's life, there are generous souls who help us find our way. My mentors, past and present, made me believe I can change the world one little byte at a time. So, whenever, I have the chance to pay it forward and help someone else, I try. A little like link love, going back to speak to students who study at the same university I attended, is just another way to say thanks. Thursday, I was granted just such an opportunity. I was fortunate enough to speak to the Professional Writing Student Association at the College of Journalism at the University of Oklahoma. These journalists are graduating in hard times. So, I wanted to give them hope and tell them it's possible to still make a good living as a writer, whether you write fiction or nonfiction.  Looking at the poster, I think they came for the pizza, but...

I know, they say it's been overdone, but really, with fall color like this, who cares? In our hot part of the world, most Japanese maples need to be grown in some shade. This cultivar lights up the shade garden with beautiful fall foliage, lovely lime-green leaves in spring, and florescent pink bark in winter. What more could you ask of a decorative, small tree? So, my suggestion for the day is plant Acer palmatum 'Sango-kaku.' Why don't you?  

A cold front, dumping tons of snow onto Colorado, and with snow also predicted in the Oklahoma panhandle, is making its way further south. After a summer that felt more like a brutal dictatorship, instigated by Mr. Sun, the roses are finally blooming once again and filling the garden with their unique fragrance. While I've filled bare spots in the garden with bulbs, pansies, kale and cabbage, I've felt the tug of rosy prickles, as if the roses are asking for attention. Why wouldn't they? Only roses have their signature scent, and each rose in my garden smells differently. Some have a classic rose fragrance, while others are scented of strawberries and even tea. Beneath their royal feet, I've planted tiny bulbs which I hope will please them come spring. I've longed to dip my nose into their blooms all year, and believe me, I've spent the last few weeks...