August was “a little damp,” in the way that Hurricane Harvey moved “a little slowly.” We got over eight inches in three weeks, the temps stayed in the 70s and 80s, and the Panhandle is still humid. Apparently this rainfall pattern agrees with the native grasses and Helianthus (aka sunflowers) because I discovered two weeks ago that there are a pot-load of native sunflowers in the section or so around the playa. And these things are thick, tens of yards thick, great sweeps of yellow and black all following the sun.
So, you may recall that I gave in and brought home two pots of scraggly, desiccated miniature roses. I potted them up in decent soil, added water, and have been ignoring them, except to move them under cover when hail threatened.
The roses were near peak when I was in Germany.
We saw amazing roses all over the place. Like this specimen from Bad Pyrmont, on a fence by houses behind the church above the spa district. Continue reading
Floribunda, Old Rose, rambler, climber, hybrid tea, damask… There seem to be scads, if not thousands, of different kinds of roses. They come in all shapes and sizes, from miniatures to climbers and ramblers that will take over the entire landscape, very simple flowers to flowers that make bees wonder if they’ve fallen into an M.C. Escher drawing, colors from pure white to deep purple to almost black to “all-of-the-above.” Some thrive from being ignored, some almost require being tucked in every night. After DYCs*, roses seem to be the largest swath of generic flowers. “What is that?”
Arrrrrgh! Continue reading
and a few other flowering and growing things.
This was supposed to be a year of rest and watching the plants do their thing. Mom and Dad Red and I had pretty much decided that we wouldn’t get many plants, because so many had over-wintered quite well, and because of one or more of us being gone for long stretches at various points during the summer. Yes, we’d fill a few holes, and annuals are an annual routine, but no major buys.
You can quit giggling. Continue reading