Garden Detective

I was working in the garden today, planting some divided daylilies given to me by a co-worker earlier this week, when I realized I hadn't photographed any of the plants in awhile. So here's what's going on in my garden today:

Blossom end rot! This is the second year my tomatoes -- in what's supposed to be a no-fail EarthBox -- have come down with blossom end rot. I don't quite understand it. Meanwhile, the tomatoes that are planted in the ground are doing just fine. I tried to get my hands on some liquid calcium, the quickest fix possible, but of the 2 major nurseries I frequent, one was all out and the other never heard of it. Two smaller garden centers didn't stock it, nor did the hardware store (shot in the dark, anyway.) I'm going to try Home Depot next. Has anyone seen it for sale somewhere in Nassau County?

Zinnias in deck boxes on my front porch:

The bicolor Buddleia planted last year is taking off nicely:

One of my 15 or so Knockout rose bushes. This one is the single variety (my fave) and is called "red," though anyone with eyes can tell it's hot pink:

I've given up on the Sambucus 'Black beauty' I planted 2 years ago. All three of them holding on for dear life, but just barely. Kinda pissed off, though, because I paid $50 apiece, so I hemmed and hawed but finally kicked them to the curb today. That's Shelby nosing around, as usual:

Border in the front of the house:

The front of the new bed in the backyard is filling in extremely fast. It's starting to look like I might have to divide some stuff next year. In the center, from left to right, that's black eyed Susan, Joe Pye weed 'gateway' in the middle, with Clematis 'Madame Julia' to the right, some Echinacea, Phlox "David," and more black eyed Sues. In front of that, from the left, are 3 'Elijah Blue' grasses, Salvia, Geranium (real Geranium), double red Knockout roses and more Salvia:

Here's the rear of the same bed. Pretty much self-explanatory if you read what's in the front. That's a dwarf Montgomery Spruce on the right, still wearing the tag I keep meaning to remove but never have my pruners when it occurs to me:

Look what's blooming in my deck boxes. A little early for Chrysanthemums, no?

One of two tiny, lonely figs on my fig tree.

A while ago. OK, a VERY LONG while ago, I wrote about my garden and how it was a mess when I purchased the house a couple of summers ago, and then how a cesspool installation ripped away whatever little dignity the yard had. I told you about how I'd planned and I wrote about disasters along the way.

That was in May, and I'm happy to report that I'm no longer embarrassed to post my photos. Here's how it went:

Here's what you saw when you entered the backyard. That's Shelby in the foreground. She's the one who's always getting noticed, whether it's for relieving herself on my tomatoes or being falsely accused of creating odors.

Not much to look at, I know. In fact, it was quite nasty. I hope you aren't nauseated. Back in May, I purchased some plants and laid them all where I wanted them:

A month and a half later, they're filling in nicely. Also ditched the old swing set in favor of a futuristic-looking trampoline:

Looking to the right, there was a deck up against the house and a garage with this neglected area in between:

So I bought some Ligularia and Northern sea oats and knockout roses, and some Ostrich ferns and various grasses and set them in place. Here are some waiting to be planted:

Voila! I believe I've created a garden room:

Here's another angle:

And yet another, with a new hammock in residence:

Maybe one day I'll actually get to relax in it.

The grass still needs some work. The cesspool construction did a number on it. Shelby also does a number on it. Number one, actually. Here's a closeup of why I need to renovate it:

That'll happen in the fall. Maybe.

You know how "they" say that bad news, deaths, etc., travel in threes? (I don't know who "they" are, but stick with me.) I've always had fun with the theory, and I've seen it played out over and over. When two celebrities die, I try to guess who'll be third. I'm never right about who, but usually another person's death is reported within a few days. Why is that?

Anyway, I'm having a bad week. My dog was (impulsively, I believe) diagnosed with cancer. I took her in for some routine vaccines a couple of days ago, and the vet announced his diagnosis point blank -- in front of my 11-year-old. I was shocked. Confused. And pissed off that he would say that in front of a child. Plus, all he's going on is enlarged lymph nodes. What's worse, my kids are now besides themselves with worry. If handled properly, I wouldn't even have mentioned it to them until I knew for certain.

I'm no doctor, but wouldn't you think he should order some tests before making such a proclamation? He didn't say, "it's suspicious," or "it might be cause for concern, let's investigate." No. He said, "your dog has cancer." I'm not kidding. Maybe she does have cancer, but for God's sake let's rule out an infection first, no?

My mom's not doing well, either. Not as bad as the dog, thank goodness, but I found out yesterday she has to undergo an unpleasant procedure. I'm optimistic she'll be fine in the long run, but for now, I'm concerned.

And people around me seem to be getting dramatic. Is there a full moon rising? I'm not a fan of drama. I don't cause any -- at least not deliberately -- and I don't want any. That's why I choose to be passive, mostly. And I choose my friends accordingly. There's no room for gossip or back-stabbing or manipulation or super-charged egos in my day. I don't have the energy.

Don't get me wrong, I'm a people person, I am. But sometimes I dream about how nice it would be to work with plants all day. You pull a few weeds, give them water, enjoy their colors and scents. Sure, some die, but really it's no tragedy. Just plant some more seeds and you're good to go. Life-threatening illnesses? Pull 'em out of the ground and start over. Drama? It would be a good thing. Coleus in the shade? Dramatic. My new Ligularia dentata -- interspersed between some Ostrich ferns? That's drama.

Better times ahead!

One thing I've always appreciated about people who like to garden is that half the fun is sharing what we have. We love to dig things up and give them away to friends.

I have such a friend, Roxanne Zimmer, who lives on the corner, at the bottom of the hill. It seems every week lately, I've been greeted with a potted something or other by the garden gate when I get home from work. A couple of weeks ago, I mentioned I needed to pick up 3 'David' phlox (phloxes?) and a couple of days later, there they were. Last week, she showed up with the 3rd lily of the season and yesterday I found a blue iris.

Though her gifts haven't been completely unreciprocated -- I gave her a dozen baby yuccas over the weekend and shared some mint and maple seedlings -- Roxanne is a little over the top with her generosity. Those Davids were purchased, not divided.

And though I know she gives with a happy heart, I'm beginning to feel a bit guilty. And conflicted. No more. Please more. No more, really. What's that you got there? Those are nice. No really, I shouldn't. You keep them. Well, if you insist...

And so it goes. But that's the beauty of friendship. And gardening. Isn't it?

You might be wondering what happened to me. How my planting day went. And what my gorgeous garden looks like now that it's completed.

Well, in that order: I've been trying to fly under the radar, unnoticed; planting day was unusual, to say the least; the garden is neither gorgeous nor completed.

Yes, the landscapers showed up, ready to dig and plant. But they had instructions from the boss to plant now and create the beds later. Huh? Something about being short a truck and not having enough time and crew and I don't know what else.

I had met with him twice. Discussed cutting the beds, turning the soil, enriching it with compost and installing the plants according to my graph-paper plans.

So when faced with this reality Saturday morning, I resisted a bit, cringed, and soon came to terms with my options: Plant everything myself (not an option, considering the number of plants involved), go along with the crazy-backward scheme or send the crew away and wait until, well, I don't know until when. Probably until all my plants died in their pots. They'd been sitting out there for two weeks already.

So the plants are all in the ground. Just where I wanted them. There's some grass growing between them and the beds aren't defined. And what hurts the most is that I'm always preaching about how gardeners have only one chance to improve their soil -- BEFORE planting.

So, a bit frustrated, a little embarrassed and incredibly hopeful, I don't have any photos for you yet. But my glass is still half full: Come July 4, this will all be behind me.

I hope.

Today's the day!

I've planned, sketched, graphed to scale, erased, crossed out and ripped up. Many times. And finally I think I've got it right.

Today, the landscaping crew comes to do all the heavy lifting: Digging out beds, ammending the soil and planting 52 plants and shrubs that are sitting in pots in my backyard, which was all but destroyed last summer when two new cesspools went in.

I've got black eyed Susans, blue fescue, salvia, echinaceas, a Montgommery spruce, Limemound Spirea, clematis 'Madame Julia' (purchased because it was beautiful and also because it shares a name with my younger daughter), hosta 'guacomole', ostrich fern, Ligularia, northern sea oates, maiden grass, 13 red single Knockout roses (they're not really red; more bright hot pink), and Hameln grass. Excuse the mish-mash of common and botanical names; I'm in a hurry and typing whatever first comes to mind.

I'm off to take 'before' pictures. I only hope the crew shows up.

Whew! I'm back. It's been a crazy couple of weeks, but I have good news to report: I didn't miss my spring garden show, after all. I came home to a beautifully blooming garden:

Above and Beyond, a proprietary collection from Color Blends, both inside and outside the fence in the front yard.

I really love this combination. Couldn't take enough pictures.

Pansies

Rhododendron

Azalea on the brink

Dafodil Hawera

They might be weeds, but they are pretty, aren't they?

Hosta

Pear blossoms

Budding Scotch broom, which has seen better days. It's hitting the compost pile after one final performance.

Last year's parsley is taking off.

Viburnum

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One thing about gardeners is that we always notice what's blooming in whose garden and when. A couple of weeks ago, I was driving past a friend's house and came to a near screeching halt when I saw a beautiful multi-colored collection of tulips surrounding her mailbox. Her husband was outside tinkering in the garden, so naturally I lost my composure, rolled down the window and shouted incredulously, 'how the heck did you get your tulips to bloom this early?"

"I just planted them," he laughed, pointing to other potted tulips awaiting planting.

I guess things aren't always what they seem. I can only hope all those weeds outside my door are imaginary.

Today I was tipped off by fellow Long Island garden blogger, Melanie from Melanie's Old Country Garden,, about the monthly May Dreams Gardens Garden Bloom Day, where links to garden bloggers' posts about what's blooming in their gardens are listed on the 15th of each month.

So here are some photos of what's blooming in my garden today.

A fading daffodil.

The first rhododendron blossom.

Tulip!

Sedum 'Autumn Joy' starting to peek out.

Sambucus 'black beauty' is beginning to leaf out. I have 3 of these, and they didn't do very well last year, so I'm surprised they're showing signs of life, frankly.

Allium Globemasters are making appearances under my Knockout roses. Soon, they'll be poking through the as-yet roseless branches above.

Grape hyacinth.

Pachysandra

And of course, lots of these...

and, alas, these...

I'll post more in two weeks when the 750 bulbs I planted last fall hit their peak. I'm sure I'll have some crabgrass to show you by then, too.

What's blooming in your garden? Show us your pictures.

Too proud to inspire pity, I'm including a photo of my kickass crocuses instead of the current state of my backyard. I'll post those when I can hide behind the 'after' shots.

Well, it's finally time to pay the piper. Regular visitors here know about the cesspool installation that wreaked havoc on my backyard last summer. Not that it was Shangri La before being reduced to a mud pit. Not by a long shot.

This will be our third summer in this house. I left scores of perennials behind in my old garden. I didn't realize how long it would take to get the new gardens going. The first summer was spent unpacking and settling in. The second summer -- last summer -- we concentrated on the front yard, which still has a way to go. The backyard was plain, but livable. And then disaster struck. Six thousand unanticipated dollars later, we have a new cesspool and well, a cesspool of a backyard. Just mud, erratic patches of grass and and lots of weeds.

I've been researching plants and planning and sketching 3 garden room areas for the backyard for a few weeks now. The backyard beds are marked with garden hoses and jump ropes, and I'm just about ready to order plants, trees and shrubs.

So far, there are 56 items on the list. With a project of this magnitude, I'm going to have to hire in some help to install them all. Most of the plants will be available within a month. Fortunately, that should coincide very conveniently with the arrival of my tax refund.

Though I could consider myself terribly unfortunate for having to spend all this money and time building up the gardens from scratch instead of letting them evolve gradually, I've always been a glass-full kind of person. Plus, starting with a blank canvas is easier than trying to work around what you have. It just takes knowledge and imagination.

The knowledge part is easy, but when it comes to imagination, well, I usually buy what the mannequin is wearing. I'm no stranger to moving plants around several times over the course of a single season until I'm happy. Along the way, the plant often suffers from my indecision, but almost always it's no worse for wear the following year. That's why I spent weeks (and almost an entire pad of graph paper) trying to get it right this time.

A successful landscape comprises greenscape and hardscape components. Greenscape refers to plant material, while hardscape is anything constructed of wood, stone, bricks, cement, etc. The latter includes walkways, patios, decks, statues, ponds and that sort of thing. It's always best to plan and install the hardscape first, then consider how the greenscape will work around it.

I'll only need 2 hardscaping items. A small stone patio area in the center of what will henceforth be referred to as John's Grass Garden, and a large rock in one of the other beds.

John loves ornamental grasses. He finds watching them sway in the breeze very relaxing. I could take them or leave them. They have their places, to be sure, but in my garden at least, less is usually more. I have three surrounding a huge spruce tree in the front and I'd be happy stopping there. John would fill the property with them. So, in the interest of compromise I designed John's Grass Garden in the shadiest spot of the backyard, sandwiched between the deck and the garage. He'll be able to relax on a hammock surrounded by tall grasses and clumping (not invasive) bamboos, oblivious to the existence of anything beyond its borders.

The Curvy Island Bed (I just named it this very minute for your sake) was designed to provide some privacy from the street. Otherwise passersby would continue to have an unobstructed view straight past the driveway through to the back fence at the end of the yard. It also will divide the space into two separate areas, or rooms. I'm filling it up with blue spruce, black-eyed Susans, Echinacea, barberry, Joe Pye weed, blue fescue, white phlox, Ilex, salvia and the aforementioned rock.

When we enter the backyard from the driveway, we'll be forced to walk around the Curvy Island Bed, past the rock, in order to see the back fence and the rest of the property. And that's one of the goals of creating garden rooms. Let the picture unfold gradually. You shouldn't be able to see the whole thing at once. Create surprises around every corner.

You don't need to live on an estate to do this. I have a very small L-shaped backyard. The whole property is only .14 acres, including the front and the land under the house. (Notice the decimal point.) If I can create rooms in this small space, so can you.

Along the back fence, I'm installing a half-moon border with Lelyand cypresses and Cotinus smokebush in the rear, Spirea, catmint, blue spruce 'globosa', Sedums and Dianthus in front. It will serve as a colorful backdrop to a small sitting area. (Note to self: Draw a bench into the plans; it's another hardscape item.)

Here are some logistics to consider when planning your garden room:

• Garden beds should be at least 3-4 feet deep to allow for adequate layering of plants. My Curvy Island Bed will be 9 feet deep at its widest point.

• Include plants with 4 seasons of interest. The bed would look awfully barren over the winter if it's filled with only herbaceous perennials. I've included spruce, smokebush, cypress, Ilex and the by-now-famous rock. Also, I file grasses under winter interest, as they turn strawlike and add a pretty dimension to the off-season landscape.

• The tallest residents in a garden bed should be in the center, visible from all sides. This is called layering. Just like in school on picture day, when the tall kids got to stand in the back and I had to sit in a chair in front. I'm not bitter.

While we're on topic, let me define beds and borders. Beds can be seen from all sides. You can walk around a bed. Borders are placed up against something like a fence or a house and can be viewed only from the front (OK, maybe the sides, too, but they aren't focal points.)

• Consider the mature size of plants and space accordingly. I'm an impatient gardener who hates looking at (and inevitably weeding) bare mulch spots, so I'm not going to cast stones (or the ubiquitous rock) at anyone. But if planned properly, allowing room for growth, those bare spots could be occupied by annuals until they fill in. Do as I say, people, not as I do.

• Plant perennials and shrubs in odd numbers. Groupings of 3 or 5 work best.

If I'm not too busy, I'll post a primer on the principles of garden design tomorrow. Otherwise, Thursday at the latest, I promise.

Well, I spent the better part of last weekend weeding, raking, edging and pruning. Here's a shot of my front yard this morning.

So you'll never have to grab a pencil and paper to calculate when leap year will fall, here's the formula: If you can evenly divide the year by 4, it's a leap year. (Century years have to be divisible by 400, but that won't apply again in our lifetimes so it's moot.)

The real reason we have leap years is because the earth's rotation doesn't keep up with our calendar. We lose a quarter of a day every year, so we add an extra day to the calendar every 4 years to make up for it. Otherwise, eventually, summer would fall in winter. Then we'd all be worried about global warming when, in fact, things would be right on target.

I know someone whose birthday is February 29, and so at age 48 he's only celebrated 11 or 12 birthdays. His kids love telling people they're older than their dad.

Back in the day (not my day, actually, but the day), leap year, or Sadie Hawkins Day, was the only acceptable day for a woman to ask a man out on a date -- or to propose marriage. Schools had dances to which the girls had to invite the boys. I guess as a society we've always had fun with this necessary oddity.

But for me, I like the idea of having an extra day, much like I appreciate the extra hour that daylight savings affords. That hour gives me extra time to pull weeds, harvest tomatoes or just kick back in my lounge chair with a fresh-from-the-garden mint mojito. I love coming home from work and feeling like I have the whole day ahead of me because it's still light out. Similarly, I'll appreciate the extra day I'll get tomorrow.

Maybe I'll spend some time getting my seed-starting supplies ready. I'll check the bulb in my fluorescent light kit, order some seeds online and -- well, maybe kick back with a from-the-produce-department mint mojito.

Word today is that President Bush is considering doling out $800 tax rebates to individuals and $1,600 to households as part of an economic stimulus plan.

It didn't take long for me to connect that with my own personal, selfish desires. I'd like to convert that green into a different type of green. I'm already calculating how far that rebate would go at the nursery. I need bushes and shrubs and grass, as my backyard is little more than mud thanks to a cesspool installation last summer.

If all goes according to plan, what are you going to do with your tax rebate?

Note: The diagram above is more of a reflection of my poor Photoshopping skills than of my pen-and-paper sketch. Use your imagination.

I had a dream last night that my garden was in full bloom. My Knockout rose bushes were twice the size they are now, and there were absolutely no weeds to battle. Plus, my backyard, which right now is little more than mud due to a cesspool intallation last summer, had a beautiful curvy border along the back fence.

I suspect those images entered my subconscious due in part to my longing for an end of winter, but mostly from how I spent the last hour or so before going to bed last night. As I was flipping through my programmed favorites on my remote control (HGTV, Food Network, all the HBOs, Travel Channel, various news channels and VH1), I stumbled upon a movie I had never heard of titled "American Dreamz," starring Mandy Moore and Hugh Grant. Not the impetus to intellectual debate, to be sure, but entertaining nonetheless. A few minutes in, I spotted a beautiful garden border way in the background of an outdoor shot. Thanking technology for the DVR on my cable box, I hit rewind and then pause and then ran for a pad and pen.

Though I couldn't quite identify most of the plants (they were way in the background and probably would go unnoticed by most viewers) I did get some initial inspiration and sketched it out from there.

So now I have a plan that includes a ground-hugging blue spruce, a spirea, a smoke bush, a hot pink crape myrtle, some climbing passion flower (or clematis), a Montauk daisy and some Sedum 'Autumn Joy' and catmints. I've already got some low-lying junipers along the fence, a red maple on one side and a Leyland cypress in the corner so the "bones" are taken care of. It's simple, but it's just what that spot needs.

I can't wait to get to work. What are you dreaming about for Spring?

Fiesta™ Salmon Double Impatiens

As a result, I have some bare patches in what I had hoped would be a lush bed of liriopes so I just added some annuals to fill in the blanks.

BabyWing® White Begonias

I'm trying out some new introductions this year, and so far I'm quite pleased. In keeping with my preferred orange-purple-pink color scheme, I arranged some Fiesta™ Salmon Double Impatiens around some pansies on the street side of the fence.

I potted up some BabyWing® White Begonias with purple Easy Wave petunias, which I also added to a couple of beds. Easy Waves are great because they spread beautifully while reaching 10 inches in height. Window boxes spilling over with the Easy Wave Beachcomber mix, a combination of blue, shell pink and coral reef, make the house look happy. As far as annuals go, this year they're my favorites.

Easy Wave Beachcomber petunia mix

Though the backyard has been dug up for a new cesspool, I worked around the mess to continue my vegetable garden tradition, though this year I'll only be growing a couple of varieties of tomatoes (Burpee's Porterhouse and some San Marzano plums) along with basil, parsley and

Maracas Brazilian Fireworks

To add a little color to the brown dust out back, I planted Maracas Brazilian Fireworks in pots and placed them on the deck railing. Now all we need is grass and a game plan for the newly blank canvas. It's a shady yard -- any ideas?

I'm sick. And tired. But I had quite a productive weekend, with aching muscles to show for it. I'm walking around like Tim Conway's "Old Man" character from The Carol Burnett Show today -- a grim reminder that my sedentary lifestyle has taken its toll over the winter and that some simple pulling and lifting has the power to cripple me.

I mustn't be alone in this, as June 6th is National Gardening Exercise Day. The holiday, promoted by Jeffrey Restuccio, author of Fitness the Dynamic Gardening Way and proponent of "aerobic gardening," is new to me. I like the thought of viewing garden work as exercise. At least when I'm done I can feel a sense of accomplishment and revel in the fruits (and vegetables, and especially the colorful blooms) of my labor. What enjoyment awaits me when I step off the treadmill?

Restuccio has some interesting charts on his website that show the number of calories expended during various gardening activities. For instance, according to one chart, an hour of weeding burns 364 calories versus, say, sitting quiety, which burns only 80.

I moved one of the big euonymuses (nearly killed myself in the process), trimmed some needled evergreen groundcover (scratched myself severely in the process,) moved some irises and a beautiful azalea from the backyard to the front (both without incident,) and weeded three-quarters of the front bed. After reading the calorie charts, I estimated I must have burned more than 1,200 calories over the weekend.

As I'm still suffering from a nasty cold (DAY 9,) which has rendered me weak, all the bending and rising while weeding left me dizzy to the point of near unconsciousness. You might have noticed me lying on the grass -- flat on my back -- periodically throughout the day, had you been walking by.

At one point, John, who was axing some old tree roots, looked over with concern. "Hey, are you O.K.?"

"Don't worry about me -- I have a system." And a good one, too: Bend. Rise. Lie down. Repeat.

Mulch comes tomorrow.

Happy spring.

1. True four-season interest. Not just evergreen trees scattered about. I want a Harry Lauder's Walking Stick and a Red Twig Dogwood or three.

2. I want plants to look full and mature the day I plant them. I'm forever tormented by deciding between allowing the recommended space between plantings to allow for air circulation and growth, and packing them in for immediate gratification.

3. An end to weeding. I recently put the new Black & Decker garden cultivator to the test, and boy -- did that baby perform! And with such ease! I'm actually waiting for more weeds to grow so I can use my new toy again. It's my new best friend. (Black & Decker did not pay me to say that, by the way.)

4. A big, strong man at my beck and call who'll do all my digging and hauling without complaining. And then I could just sit down and point, occasionally muttering things like "over there," and "a little to the right."

5. I want not to have to get a new cesspool next week. Not only will the process raid my already meager savings, but it will rip up my garden and make a muddy mess of the backyard.

6. A hot tub.

7. A hose that won't tangle, is feather-light but sturdy, and will recoil on its own. Anybody know of one?

8. Instant compost.

9. More Knockout roses.

10. And most of all, I want world peace, an end to hunger and equality for all. That, and an unsolicited massage at the end of a long day.

What's on YOUR wish list?

I just ordered a composter for the backyard. After reading reviews of several products, I settled on a Tumbleweed Compost Tumbler, an Australian product that:

1. Doesn't require any manual labor
2. Got high marks from consumers, and
3. Is recommended by the National Home Gardening Club

I've never made compost before, so this will be quite an adventure. I like the idea of transforming garbage into free mulch and fertilizer, and I'm excited about adding eggshells, coffee grinds and weeds to my pile. What's more, I recently read that paper (even if there's ink on it!) can be safely composted. I'm targeting all the junk mail I get, especially those unsolicited pre-approved credit card offers that require diligent shredding. Now, I'll just rip them into strips, give them a shot of the hose and toss 'em in with my banana peels, fully assured that identity thieves won't get their grubby little paws on them.

Aside from paper, a lot of surprising items can be added to the compost pile, among them, human hair. For a rundown of what can and can't be composted, visit The NYC Compost Project website.

Compost ingredients fall into two categories: Browns and Greens. Brown materials are rich in carbon and many, though not all, are in fact brown. They include dried, spent perennials, autumn leaves, leather, twigs and hay. Paper also falls into the Browns category. Green materials are rich in nitrogen, and likewise, are mostly green, or at least fresher than browns. Greens include grass clippings, fruit and veggie scraps and freshly picked weeds. Cornstarch packing peanuts and coffee grinds, though not green, also are rich in nitrogen. So even though they defy the color-coding principles set forth here, they are Greens.

Greens help speed the decomposition of your rotting garbage (a good thing,) while browns keep the heap from becoming an olfactory nightmare (a very good thing.) A fifty-fifty mix is ideal, though you can always go heavier on the Browns.

You should never include fats (meat or fish table scraps. dairy products, oils, etc.,) diseased plants or materials that don't decompose, such as plastic or glass, in your pile.

Apparently, bird and rabbit droppings, and horse manure are ok, but kitty litter and dog poop are no-nos. However, Florida's online composting center maintains that under certain circumstances, dog waste can be composted. Read the rules here and proceed at your own risk. For the record, I'm going to continue bagging mine up.

Do you have any composting advice for me? Leave a comment or shoot me an email.

I just put in some spring bulbs behind the new perennials. This way, when the flowers have faded, the foliage will be hidden behind the next season's entries.

The landscaper will be bringing a purple plum tree for the bare corner of the front yard, and I'll surround it with smaller Hosta and orange daylilies.

Having spent the weekend shopping and hauling and planting, I'd be mortified if anyone dropped in on me today. The house looks like a tornado hit it.

Here's what went in:

Dutch Iris Eye of the Tiger	Ranunculus, mixed
Snow Crocus	Double Daffodil Rip Van Winkle
Cornell Cooperative Extension photo Allium “Purple Sensation	Cornell Cooperative Extension photo Orange “Crown Imperial” Fritillaria (very hard to find, by the way; nearly everyone is sold out. Even photos were scarce -- had to use this yellow one.) Click here for a warning about Fritillaria bulbs
Antoinette Chameleon tulips, whose flowers start out cream-colored, then pink edges appear before they evolve into a solid salmon-orange.
Orange Candleflower	Branching orange tulips

Gaillardia Fanfare (Photo courtesy of Bluestone Perennials)

Using garden hoses and an old can of blue spray paint we found in the garage to mark the beds, we set to work. After a few U.N.-level negotiations, John and I agreed on the shape of things. We also agreed neither of us had the time nor the inclination to do the back-breaking labor required to dig up the grass and tree roots, so we called in a landscaping crew to shape the canvas.

Now I've seen many of you out in your gardens, spade in hand, digging new beds and even shoveling gravel from 2-ton wheelbarrows. And I applaud and admire you. But I just can't do it. I plan and plant and even dig up and transplant small-to-medium shrubs. But I do rely on John for the really heavy lifting. And when he can't do it, I call in the big guns. I'm not proud.

Once the beds were made, so to speak, I went shopping.

I was very pleased to have found some dwarf shrubs at Hick’s Nurseries in Westbury for the street side of the fence. Three of them are Rhododendrons (“Purple Gem”) that only get 2 feet tall and wide. The other three are Crimson Pygmy Barberries, which also will grow 2 feet tall, with a 3-foot spread. They'll provide some much-needed winter interest.

I added some double-decker purple coneflowers (Echinacea purpurea) and black-eyed susans (Rudbeckia hirta) around them, and stuck a few Helenium Mardi Gras and Gaillardia Fanfare in the bed for good measure. The latter two, which I ordered from Bluestone Perennials, a family-owned-and-operated nursery in Madison, OH, are among my ten favorite perennials.

I also moved a misplaced euonymus from the side of the house to the far end of the new bed. (Yes, I dug it up myself.) On the other end, I planted a beautiful black fountain grass (Pennisetum A. “Moudry”)

Inside the fence, I moved the Guacamole hostas from the backyard to around the one remaining pine tree, and surrounded them with some cool Hemerocallis Red Magic daylilies. Red Magic's flowers will look beautiful alongside Guacamole's 5-foot-tall lavender-topped spikes.

Moving along the fence toward the side of the house, I put in some purple liatris (Spicata Kobold) and interspersed them with ONE orange Asiatic lily (I had more but they didn't survive the move) and more Helenium Mardi Gras, which are so cool because they look tie-dyed, and they're a nice alternative to the more common Black-eyed Susans.

Spring bulbs will go in next.

My intention -- naive as it is -- is to set up the gardens, and then have them take care of themselves. Aside from the occasional deadheading and weeding sessions, and spring and fall cleanups, I’m all for low-maintenance. Maybe I’ll feel differently when the kids are grown and I’m retired, but for now, I’m all about the shortcut.

Do you have any work-saving tips or favorite low-maintenance plants? Do tell.

So we moved into this new house a year-and-a-half ago. Just six blocks away. Same neighborhood, same friends, same schools for the kids. Bigger house.

We lived in the old house - a small 3-bedroom ranch - for 12 years. When we first moved in, there wasn't much of a garden to speak of, save for a strip of tall marigolds alongside the deck and some yews out front.

As a working mom, I didn't have a whole lot of time to beautify the grounds. But little-by-little, I added a perennial border here, and a shrub bed there. Eventually, it took shape. And more than a few times, passersby would ask what type of lily was in the corner bed, or where I'd found a particular unusual cultivar.

Sure, I took a few cuttings before I moved. I'm not stupid. I even dug up a rhizome or two. The new house had a garden, alright, and the previous owner was quite proud of it. But, honestly, it consisted mostly of half-dead rose bushes and a mish-mash of ill-placed holly, euonymus, yucca and lots and lots of overgrown ivy. On everything.

Oh, and the trees. Three of them, in particular. More than thirty feet tall apiece. Sappy, messy, wild-looking white pines. Smack in front of the entry door. Initially, I thought them charming. They offered lots of privacy. You could barely see the house from the street. And the shade! They sure kept the house cool that first summer, compensating somewhat for the central air conditioning we gave up when we moved.

Looking out my bedroom window made me feel as though I were in the Adirondacks. I really liked it.

Until the needles started falling. Not only was the walkway "carpeted," but so was the living room. Hard as we tried not to, we couldn't help but drag them in. Their presence more than rivaled the dog hair. But at least I could send Shelby, our half boxer, half something else (Ridgeback? Pitt Bull? Depends on whom you ask) off for a haircut. Those needles kept falling with a vengeance. And our garden benches were covered in sap. You couldn't sit on them. The trees had to go. And they did, leaving behind a barren wasteland of a front yard.

Well, the first summer came and went, as did the fall planting season and the following spring and summer. I was busy unpacking and working and going to my 9-year-old daughter Julia's soccer games, and bringing her to piano lessons. My other daughter, Justine, 14, is an aspiring actor. I couldn't very well miss her school plays, could I? And somebody had to shuffle her to acting lessons and the mall.

Last spring we replaced the dilapidated post-and-rail fence with a PVC picket with an arbor and gate. But the garden remained untended. O.K., it remained non-existent.

At least things are starting to shape up.