Last Day, Last Gardens

I didn't have a lot of time today to work in the gardens. I have been gradually turning my schedule around because I have to go back to work tomorrow night. But I had enough time to plant the last of my seeds.

The morning glory seeds did get soaked overnight so I was able to plant the Grandpa Ott morning glories on either side of the shed door as usual from seed that I had saved. This year I am adding Ruby Port columbine to the beds.

I planted the usual balsam by the composter. A few always reseed themselves every year. I think I have finally figured out how to save seed from it so that I won't have to keep buying it. Last year some cleome that I had gotten as seeds from a gardening friend did very well in the same general area so this year I am adding Rose Queen cleome, listed in an 1836 catalog, to the composter garden. Lastly, I planted Heavenly Blue morning glories. These will be started in this sunny bed. Then, when the plants are big enough to be transplanted, they will be moved to the semi-shady garden. Morning glories don't do well there, but I do this every year because I love coming home to this every morning.

I had enough time today to quickly create a new garden. It's one I have wanted to do for a few years and even bought seeds to plant in it two years ago. First, though, I had to get rid of the poison ivy and other brush that had taken over while my neighbor had neglected his yard. It has taken me a few years, but it's finally cleared out. All I had to do today was move some violets and mix in some compost. I don't know if the seeds are too old to germinate. I had planned a sort of wild flower garden with lupines, wild columbine and cowslip. I also threw in some lovage I received in a seed exchange . It will be fun to see what, if anything, decides to grow there.

Speaking of which, I will now begin my daily routine of obsessively looking for signs that my seeds are sprouting. Intellectually I know that it is ridiculous to expect germination this rapidly but hope springs eternal. Now, if it would only rain . . .