Good morning, and can we get back to normal? Welcome to Saturday Morning Garden Blogging.
The Weather Gods conspired for almost perfect weather during the Convention — the best of Denver in late August. Although a couple of tornadoes touched down in Douglas County Sunday (and a couple of black helicopters scoped out my yard), our party went off without a hitch; if you couldn't make it, I'm sorry we missed the opportunity to meet.
The rest of the week: it nudged into the 90s on a couple of days, but for Obama's speech in The Diaphragm, temperatures moderated into the upper 70s.
And my spider dahlias are marvelous this year. By the size and health of some of these plants, I should have a boatload of tubers for planting next year.
So now we are at Labor Day Weekend, the "official" end of Summer. These traditional calendars kinda throw me off: I start noticing the changing light heralding the switch to fall about the 2nd week of August — about the time the aptly-named sunset hyssop starts to bloom (isn't it lovely in the angled light of late-afternoon?) My kids have been back in school for two weeks already, and the light patterns in my house have changed enough that I'll need to take the new tea jasmine plant into the office soon, as I just don't get enough light here, except in high summer, to keep it blooming (yes, it's a continual bloom jasmine; and yes, it really is the type of jasmine they use to make jasmine tea).
Along with other "recovery" type chores, I also need to start clipping back Jeebus the Rosebush, preparatory to removing it in a couple of weeks. This picture shows exactly why Jeebus must go (although he will be resurrected in the Polish Princess' yard). This rose has horrible thorns. It's a climber, so it puts out — all summer long — new canes studded with big-assed thorns which sweep out to snag the unsuspecting. It's a constant battle to keep it contained and strapped down to its trellis; and then it punishes me for having interfered with it.
All that, and it only blooms once a year, in early summer when I have lots of other interesting looking, and interesting smelling, plants blooming. If it was a repeat bloomer I wouldn't mind the effort to keep it under control. But in my small yard — well, I need more bang for the square footage. So out goes Jeebus, and in comes the Lady of the Mist rose — the plant will arrive from Heirloom Roses in mid-September so it will have our long, lovely fall weather in which to settle itself so that, perhaps, it may even be large enough to put on a show for us next year. We chose this rose for several reasons — continuous blooming, highly fragrant, beautiful color and, because it's really a tall bush, rather than a true climber, it will be easier to keep it properly trellised.
We're also considering putting a true climber, a Zéphirine Drouhin, near the front porch. It would be a very nice addition: a highly fragrant, thornless, continuous bloomer. By the front porch it could be trellised up to the roof, so the extremely long, climbing canes would have somewhere to go.
The kicker is... where by the front porch? I see two options: we can put it on the east side, behind the repeat-bloom dwarf lilac I planted a couple of years ago (but there it may either crowd out the lilac, or be crowded out by it). Or we could attempt to remove the Dr. Huey rose — the remaining rootstock of a grafted bush likely planted nearly 100 years ago. The Dr. Huey has sentimental value: it is a very old bush, and it did come with the house. On the other hand, it has all the disadvantages of Jeebus in the back yard, and it's not even fragrant.
Additionally, how in the world do we get rid of the damned thing? My thought is that it likely would be a two, three, or more year process of cutting it back and painting it with brush killer — and then we'd still have the very large root system to get rid of. Plus, in getting rid of it, I fear damaging the roots of the passionflower vine which is now nicely established (and loaded with buds... which still have not opened!).
Well, perhaps Pointing Finger Obama Action Figure (with BIG EARS!) will show us the way (isn't it marvelously tacky?). We don't have to make a decision just yet.
That's what's happening here? What's going in your gardens?