Uncovering the columnar elements, part 2

This is actually the "after" picture, believe it or not. Clearly I still have some work to do on this side of the little tree! (Can you see it, just behind the peony?) I started on the other side, towards the gate, and took the opportunity to liberate a hosta and a hellebore at the same time. Lots of excess cranesbill geranium, Japanese anemone, and mint. I now know these characters well enough to know that they won't be devastated by my attack. Rip, tear. The hellebore still needs some help, but the hosta now looks like a deliberate, established clump. Isn't it handsome! I left some anemone and mint at the back, to keep the ribbon grass honest.

And here is the little-column-that-could, isn't it darling?

"Oh, puh-leeze."

How 'bout them apples?

It is another bumper year for the big apple tree to the right of the back deck. The branches are so loaded they're drooping. I keep bonking my head on them when I try to get around to the compost heap on the side of the house. I think I will instigate an apple-picking party in September, so they don't all go to waste, rotting on the ground. Last year I tried to keep some in the fridge, but they got pretty mealy by the end of the fall. I'm not too sure what this tree is - the apples are huge, not too red, and flavourful. They're not the crisp taste sensations that smaller apple tree (over to the left of the deck) produces, but they're really good for pies and crumbles. The raindrops seem to heighten the impression of bountiful harvest, don't they?

The rain also left the smoke bush looking exceptionally smoky:

In the background you can see the monarda (bee-balm) doing its thing. It's really tall this year, and is standing up much straighter after a couple of rainy days.

Oz was too, until H came along.

Good news for the jardin

It's raining!

Uncovering the columnar elements

Mum and I planted two sweet little evergreens (help, Mum, cedars?) that are supposed to grow about 70' tall and stay only 1-2' wide. We put them right against the back fence, one to the left of centre, the other over at the right by the elderberry tree, so that, when they grow up, they will help draw the eye back and give a sense of depth and space to the view from the house.  If they grow up. Here's a recent photo of the one at the left, poor thing:

Can you see the columnar element? Nope, neither could I. Lots of convolvulus and seed heads of some really tall thing that bloomed at the end of May. Oh the guilt! So I got busy this weekend, and, mercifully, the sweet little thing is still there and is looking ok. I gave it a great big drink of water. I'll get back in there and rip out the rest of the weedy bit soon. But at least it can breathe, for now.

Of course, there's still its sibling on the right side to check in on:

Sigh.

Castillo de los tres gatos

Look what's new in the Texas jardín:

A moon flower bud! It looks a bit like the wretched convolvulus I've been hauling out all weekend, but it's actually kind of the opposite. It is not a horrible invasive vine whose white flowers open daily and curl up at night. Rather, it is a fairly well-behaved vine (when nurtured), whose white flowers open at night. For just one night! It is exciting to spot a big bud like this during the day, and even better if you remember to look again that night. Here's what you see:

Up close, it is a fabulously delicate piece of brilliant white parchment. Teya, either you just watered it, or a blessed thunderstorm just passed through!

Changing of the daisy guard

Today I've been cutting down a lot of the marguerites in the back yard, because they've pretty much had it. They're at their best in June, it seems. Now there are just lots of wizened brown stalks, plus the start of new leaves down at the base of each clump. Not to worry, though, because the shastas are just getting going in the front yard. We've got some real amazonian clumps, the sort that dominate the scene and make the neighbours think I know something about gardening after all. The regular shastas are good:

The ones with the split (double?) petals, though, are real showstoppers. I call them the "froufrou" daisies:

The cats were off sleeping in the shrubbery, but now Harriet has come inside and demanded to sit on my lap while I blog. Those of you who've met H will know that typing around her is a bit of an extreme sport! Voluptuous kitty.

This post is dedicated to Daisy-cat, in Toronto.

Harriet...

... the disapproving cat.