
“Favorite things:
gracious living,
family, friends,
and earth.”
Copyright © 2010 Dianne Marie Andre


It’s contest time again. Starting today, September 15, same game, same rules, different prize: Lowe’s $10 Gift Card.

Here’s the rules and game plan:
Best of luck and happy commenting!
Note: In and Around the Garden and/or the author has the right to refuse publication of comment(s) unsuitable and/or to exclude them in the above contest. In and Around the Garden and/or the author also has the right to decide what comments are unsuitable. By playing the ‘September Readers’ Contest’, you agree to these terms.

As the season winds down and annuals fade away, it’s hard to imagine your garden beds empty of colorful flowers. Collecting seeds from favorite annuals is a sure-fire way to reproduce them for next year. It’s also an economical way to fill your beds with lots of flowers that you may not otherwise afford. Depending on the annual, one pod can hold hundreds of seeds.
Seed collection also allows you the proud experience of propagating annuals from your garden, preserving heirloom varieties, and creating unique holiday gifts.
Supply List:
Collecting Steps:
Tips:
Copyright © 2010 Dianne Marie Andre

It was the end of the day, just before the eggs are gathered and the hens secured for the night, when I began watering the potted plants around the outside of the house. Ralphie was with me, sniffing the bushes and the air. The faucet, and hose with an adjustable nozzle on the end is next to marigolds in a tall, wrought iron wall stand, so I water them first. Feeling the fall air against my back, I was in deep thought about fall annuals when a vole suddenly ran up the wall and under the fascia board. I quickly turned the nozzle to ‘jet’ to flush out the vole. For some reason, I thought I was fast enough to drop the hose (should he reappear), grab the nearby shovel, and whack him flat. I aimed the jet spray into the narrow crack along the length of the fascia board. Coming to the end of a small opening, he flew out and landed on the porch wall, several feet away.
That was when I thought, “Hey, voles don’t have wings. Bats do!”
Ralphie was at my side by then; his head tilted wondering why I was moving so fast. I put the hose down and ran for the camera. As I tried to get a good photo, some distance away (I need a better camera for long-range photography), the poor bat was desperately searching for a crack between the ceiling and the wall, for another safe haven. Once I clicked the camera, I let the bat alone, and watered the large ivy topiaries a couple of feet away. It takes a few minutes for the water to run out of the bottom of the pots, so I sat on the bench when out jumped a dozen tiny frogs. They congregated around my shoes—also looking for a safe haven. Not a bad idea.
I’m not afraid of frogs, voles, or bats. They’re harmless, especially the frogs who in their own way are adorable. I just don’t like to openly engage in the company of voles and bats. Gardening is more pleasurable when critters of certain types remain concealed underground, or tucked beneath a bush. They can live on my land, in the gardens and potted plants as long as they stay out-of-sight and leave my plants and me alone.
I’m grateful for the benefits critters bring to nature and the garden. Nevertheless, there is something edgy about gardening beside visible voles and bats. This isn’t a child’s storybook with talking animals. With the bat overhead, frogs at my feet, and a vole playing hide-and-seek, it was time to tend to the hens, and then call it a day. The watering could wait until morning.
Bats Facts:
Copyright © 2010 Dianne Marie Andre

In my perennial garden: These days, I’m walking on a carpet of leaves. As I look underfoot and then across the garden grounds, my shoulders droop with dread. Then, what isn’t visible among the dry leaves changes my mood. No acorns. Hallelujah. Joy comes back to me. The acorn factory has closed. The factory will fire up again—without a doubt—once the cycle makes a complete turnabout in five to seven years. Until then, instead of 10-zillion h-e-a-v-y leaf bags each fall, I’ll rake and fill 5-zillion light leaf bags. Most importantly, I won’t have to extract a carpet of seedlings.
The second of two round shrubs, on either side of the garden’s entrance, has killed over. Each area now needs new plants, preferably draught-tolerant. At this time, I have no idea what. This will be a good winter project to research. The zinnias are holding up, still blooming. The vincas aren’t fairing as well—which is unusual—so I pulled most of them up this morning. Normally, they are stunning until the first frost.
The crepe myrtle has aphids. No surprise. They are famous for aphids.
In my vegetable bed: Little-by-little, summer harvest has fallen short of its charitable bounty and only one vegetable—a tomato plant—remains in the raised bed. The hens loved the spent melon, bean, tomato, eggplant, cucumber, and zucchini plants. After I added more soil and mulch, I divided the bed into four five-foot sections for rotation, and then covered each area with old hay to keep the cats out. (Note: Normally, one would not build a 20-foot-long raised bed because it would bow, but mine is made of very thick beams. There’s no way it will bow.)
The voles have disappeared. I caught four with mousetraps. I’m guessing that the rest of the vole family left to find vegetation elsewhere. Who wants to homestead where there’s no pantry. Guaranteed, if you remove the vegetation the voles flee. At least for the time being.
I’ve gathered the empty, seed packets and noted where each summer vegetable grew. Later, I’ll take a closer look at the season’s mistakes and successes, and log them for future reference. For now, fall vegetable planning and planting is in order for my first, ever, winter garden. I’m not a winter person so the willpower it will take to go into the cold will determine future winter gardens. Not everyone’s heart sings as he or she gardens in the frigid outdoors.


Recently, I took a break from everyday responsibilities, picked up my friend, Valerie, and went thrift and antiques shopping. My big purchase was a tiny flower frog (seen on the right in above photo) for five dollars at Second Hand Rose. I have three flower frogs now for my new collection fetish. This recent craze is an act of faith that someday I will have a cutting garden. Not a large garden, just big enough to fill the house with fresh bouquets and the hearts of those who enter with spring fever.
After I made my purchase, we walked a block down School Street, turned left down Pine Street to the Antiquarium. This shop (left photo) has everything imaginable from antiques and collectibles to new items. It’s a happy hand-on-your-heart moment when you enter. Overflowing merchandise beautifully displayed in eclectic fashion, from floor to tabletops to cabinetry ledges, cause you to pause instantly. A lot of thought and talent goes into purchasing and then displaying past and present so cleverly. I wanted it all, hundreds of primitive items carrying old stories, and modern treasures to compose a new journey.
Exiting the Antiquarium, you pass through an open iron gate and walk by potted flowers. I wanted those too!
Valerie and I belong to the same garden club. Other than the monthly club events, this was our first outing together. With one exception, we’ve learned that we enjoy doing the same things: gardening, reading, and thrift shopping. The exception is cooking. Valerie will go to Costco for her favorite breads, to another grocery store for special ingredients and others for bargains. I, however, use grocery stores like a drive thru; one stop, stock up, pay, and head out.
Valerie’s a great cook, as is a mutual friend, Dolores, who opened her home to our spouses and us (a couple of days later) for a delicious Sunday meal. Valerie and Jim, Joe and I sat with Dolores and her husband, Tom, poolside at a round picnic table. Just as we began to fill our plates, a light breeze carried the aroma of ribs and garden-fresh vegetables into our nostrils then drifted over the gleaming pool water. Throughout the meal, conversations barreled into laughter as topics changed from pet raccoons to suicidal hens. Good times, good food, good people.
After dinner, I walked around the backyard. Vole trails and mounds riddled their lawn, but the perennial beds were lush and blooming (see photo above) with the brilliant sunset shining through. In the vegetable garden, a wilting pepper plant leaned precariously. At the base was a fresh critter mound. Tom grabbed a shovel and a black nursery bucket from the barn to pot the pepper plant. I haven’t heard yet if it survived. It probably wasn’t worth the effort. The shock will stop fruit from setting. Gardeners, however, never stop trying. Like parenting, the responsibilities of nurturing plants never escape the heart, whether we’re out shopping or dining with friends. Copyright © 2010 Dianne Marie Andre

I have always loved the nostalgic, old-world appearance of small topiaries. Their appealing shapes bring harmony and perfection to any space—on the porch, in the shade of a gazebo, or on a kitchen window ledge.
The word topiary comes from the Latin topiarius which means “a creator of places”. Is it any wonder that we view topiaries as living structures of tranquility? Beyond the visual pleasantries, topiaries bring culinary flavors when using herbs, and calm when trimming and nurturing its shape. I first discovered how therapeutic and fun topiary practice is after I received two spiral boxwoods for Christmas one year. The following spring, I nervously snipped the new growth with my little Dollar-Store scissors to maintain the appealing curves. I expected to grow weary of the task. Surprisingly, topiary shearing was a fun, creative process that relaxed me.
Topiaries are easy to grow, but they do take time to mature. If you want instant gratification, you can purchase an established topiary. But they come with a hefty price. With the use of cuttings, repurposed wire (or grape vines or willow branches) and hand-me-down pots, one can grow topiaries for pennies in five easy steps:

Tips:
Suggested plants for growing small topiaries indoors or in a protected area:
Copyright © 2010 Dianne Marie Andre

Dear Friends,
Here’s wishing you relaxation, and old-fashioned family fun on summer’s last holiday.
Enjoy–Dianne
PS: Look for a new post tomorrow.

“Gardeners live by faith,
and with the acceptance of change,
they shift gears.”
Copyright © 2010 Dianne Marie Andre