Once, in 2008, when referring to the redbuds blooming along the rural Oklahoma roads, I said my world was purple and gray.  Although it seemed much earlier that year, actually they didn't start blooming until April, and it looks from the pictures as though everything else held off that spring.  Last year, they bloomed in March and were bitten by the late freeze. Oh, but this year is the best bloom we've had in a long time, and they are just past their prime.  The rest of the Oklahoma landscape is turning green with them, and it's this nice contrast of the two colors, spring green and vivid purple which makes them so popular. I'm often asked how to grow the native redbuds, Cercis canadensis 'Oklahoma', often from people who purchased a small tree in bloom, planted it, and watched it die that summer, or in a year or two.  ...

When I put out my eggplant, tomato and pepper transplants early, I did it while firmly crossing my fingers.  April 20th is our last freeze date for much of Oklahoma, and I was taking my chances.  I was prepared to cover the plants with sheets or empty containers.  I wanted to plant my new little garden in the worse kind of way. What I didn't expect was this.  We were under a thunderstorm warning, but, around 9:30 p.m.,  hail rained down upon all the poor plants. Some fared better than others.  This eggplant wasn't so lucky.  Neither were its two sisters. Nor were these onions.  Remember them standing ramrod straight for their photograph in the last post?  Now, they are taking the hail lying down.  Who can blame them? Some of the flowers are too. Many of the tulips were overwhelmed by this fast moving storm's ferocity, but I bet...

Dear Carol, Mary Ann and all planting friends, I hope this Monday finds you with a trowel in one hand and seed packets in the other.  I know I will be as soon as I get my chores out of the way. The fountain was up and running just in time for Easter.  I think I still want it to bubble up a bit more, but that's just an adjustment or two.  I also need more rocks for the area beneath.  I must find the time to buy another bucket load tomorrow after I drop Bear off at school.  I'm finishing up a magazine article, and it takes preference. Did your family members ever pinch your cheek and say you were growing like a weed?  Well, the green onions at my house are growing about as fast as a twelve-year-old boy.  However, I've promised not to pinch their leaves.  It...

I'll admit it. I'm a fool for April with its changeable skies:  cloudy, sunny, cloudy again.  I'll even take the wind, although it leaves my face gritty after I walk. I'm a fool for newly unfurled leaves glowing against red bark. I'm a fool for narcissus, those stalwart, deer proof bulbs now dotting my yard with color and fragrance.  I no longer remember all of their names, but I still love their complicated shapes and colors all contained within the palette of white, yellow and pink.  Gail at Clay and Limestone wrote about Situational Narcissus this week.   You should go and have a look see. I'm also a fool for hellebores, but you knew that.  Mine are still blooming beautifully and will until the weather gets really hot.  The red and blue ladies are in their third season, and, like can-can dancers, really strutting their stuff.  Interestingly, although Helleborus x...