You Grow Girlâ„¢

I have been in mourning for two weeks, only now am I coming to grips with the fact that I am no longer in Paris. I have learned once again that all cheeses taste the same, that tiny dogs just shit a lot, and who the hell needs a bottle of Bordeaux when wine coolers are available in a six pack?

The good news is that I came back to happy animals and healthy plants. In addition to a sampling each of Parisian fashion Laura and Stephanie, the caregivers, are being packed off to the spa for Spring-time pedicures. Thank you both!

I came from the lushness of France to a recently defrosted New Brunswick. While I am not going to reminisce too much, I have to show you this image of an Island near one of our moorings (we traveled the Seine by barge), where ivy ran rampant and covered everything that wasn’t moving.

Within a week of my coming back the weather moved up into the teens until, by the Victoria Day week-end, it was too hot to move and everything in site was blooming.

I have two recommendations for those anxious for early greenery here; perennial hops, which I started from seed, disappoint in their first year but by their second you couldn’t arm-wrestle them to save your life. The foliage is lush and attractive, prickly to the touch, and the prolific flowers at end of season are aromatic, dry, red and green husks. Here it is, one of the first sprouts in the garden, situated with only late afternoon sun. I would highly recommend it to cover chain fences, baby barns, or other unsightliness.

Another recommendation, and I bought it as a seedling, is Sweet Woodruff. As a shade groundcover it is beyond compare. It has a lovely vanilla scent and tiny white flowers. It is hardy and spreads well; useful for those shade areas you don’t quite know what to do with.

As in other years, while I start all my veg and most of my perennials and annuals myself, I buy the real showstoppers for my window boxes. Rather than co-ordinate, this year I went for the clashing combinations, grabbing at the vivid colours without a second thought. I have salmon coloured Gerbera daisies next to reds, fuschias, oranges yellows, blues and purples.

In the past I have saved seeds from store-bought annuals. This is a hit and miss adventure; many companies issue plants that will not reproduce for the home gardener. I use such seedlings for Guerilla gardening, or toss them into little corners of my garden and cross my fingers.

I have been ticked off so many times in the past by the moronic Saturday night drunk who grabs the prettiest flowers from my garden only to discard them in the gutter. I show here this-years preventive efforts; cut sprigs of barberry (painfully thorny) pushed in amongst the window-box flowers as part decorative feature, part killer hand-scratcher.

I have also “rescued” a few live barberry bushes from a neighbouring vacant lot and installed them, crotch height, in my alleyway to prevent unwanted pissing-against-the-house. Har Har. These methods should work better than last years “Brinks Home Security” and “24 hour Video Surveillance” decals.

The neighbours have taken down the spindly old poplars that separated their yard from mine. While I had no affection for the poplars, the grape vine that was strangling them was ancient and provided a million and one hiding places for chickadees and goldfinches. I am trying hard to come up with a way to replace these sanctuaries, especially next to my bird bath where they spend their leisure time.