Little signs are popping up …

here and there …

The first plum blossom opened yesterday and started singing to the sky.

Others are pushing through, getting ready, …

sprucing up, trimmed and waiting to grow.

New fellows are arriving on the scene, eager to make their mark.

Spring is coming.

There has been a lot of this kind of mess here at my home over the last few days. I got it in my head that it would be fun and efficient and frugal to harvest seeds from my garden and my mother-in-law’s garden and use them for planting this spring. See how I saved some pennies there? I’ve been painstakingly dismantling flower heads and seed pods. I have marigolds and hollyhocks and morning glory seeds in abundance!

Thank goodness I have this nifty tray to keep the mess contained.

Well, I realized I have so very many seeds from this project that I’ve offered on my Facebook page to share them out to anybody who wants them. I thought I’d do the same here.

So I’m packaging up pinches of seeds in a not-very-fancy-or-stylish sort of way and mailing them out to a few eager recipients. Let me know if you want some! I’ll do this until I run out. I guess you could call this a tiny giveaway.

Some gardening caveats: Morning glories spread like the dickens, so if you like that sort of thing, you’ll love them. If you don’t, well, NEVER plant morning glories. Hollyhocks take up to two years to bloom, and they grow very tall and self-seed. Marigolds are annuals, but they are hardy and you can use their petals for dyeing.

XOXO May your gardens bloom like mad this year!

Last year, as part of our family’s Autumn Equinox celebration, the boys and I made an autumn wreath from clippings from our yard. It was so pretty and lasted better and longer than I had really hoped, so I thought this year I’d share a tutorial, in case you’d like to make one for your home.

Above is our wreath from today. I wish I could say my kids wanted to help this year, but they didn’t. Also, you might wonder why my Autumn wreath doesn’t have many autumn leaves in it. Here in Northern California the leaves haven’t yet begun to turn pretty colors. Today it was almost 100 degrees F. I found plenty of other bits with splashes of  color to use instead of autumn leaves.

Materials

* wreath base made of twigs or vines

* floral picks (short wooden stems with a wire fastened on one end)

* fresh and dried yard clippings (some examples: Japanese maple, pittosporum, nandina, rose hips, seed pods, dried or drying hydrangea, crepe myrtle, myrtle, dusty miller, mint, rosemary, autumn leaves, mallow, wheat ears, assorted shrubs, etc.)

Tutorial

A long time ago, I used to be a floral designer, but I promise you don’t have to have any floral design experience to do this project. Also, I should say that this is a seasonal wreath that will look nice for several weeks. It will not last forever, as the plant materials will wither and dry out. However, many will retain their shapes and colors. Since we won’t be storing this wreath for use again next year, we are free to construct it fairly loosely.

For my wreath base, I used a wisteria vine that I twisted into a wreath earlier this summer when Ian and I were trimming in the yard. Wisteria is leafy and pretty and nicely flexible when you first cut it and it’s fresh. We had so very much of it that I made several wreaths, which subsequently dried up completely. The first thing I did for my autumn wreath project was to pick off a bunch of dried wisteria leaves. You can see how the original green color of the wisteria vines has faded in the next picture.

Choose a single direction in which to add bits of plants to your wreath base. Trust me: You’ll be happier with the finished wreath if it has a directional flow. Mine goes clockwise. It is the direction of the path of the sun in the Northern Hemisphere, and since for me this wreath is a symbol of the changing of the seasons, I’m quite happy with clockwise.

All you have to do is stuff the stem end of your garden clippings into your wreath base, wedging it until if feels secure. That’s it. It’s not complicated at all, but you have to keep doing it until your wreath base is covered up with foliage and other items. I suggest that you choose sturdy kinds of plants to cover the base and provide a foundation for the colorful and more interesting parts to sit on. For my wreath, this was pittosporum. It stays intact as it dries.

Now add lots of variety to your wreath, using the same technique of inserting the stems into the twisted wreath base. Try to find foliage in a variety of greens, reds, and yellows and with a variety of leaf shapes. Keep working in different places all around the circle, adding the same type of item in two to five different places on the wreath. This will help achieve a balanced look.

As the wreath fills out gradually, you can begin to add your showier items. Unusual shapes or colors, seed pods, flowers, or dried flowers all make wonderful accents. If you have plant items lacking a long enough stem, you can use a floral pick and wrap the wire around the item, securing it to the floral pick. Then insert the pick into the wreath base.

You might wish to choose a particular focal point on the wreath. Often this is either the bottom center or the top center of the wreath. Place some of your favorite plant items there.

I chose plenty of imperfect items for my wreath, such as leaves with blemishes, flowers that were long past their prime, and fruits (such as rose hips and lantana fruits) that would normally be trimmed and discarded. I wanted to capture this moment in time, this beautiful juncture between the seasons that is the equinox. My garden is a study in paradox right now, with some plants blooming like gangbusters and some going to seed and drying out. To me this is quintessence of the autumn equinox, and reflects the seasons as I know them.

You can make an amazing autumn wreath without taking too much of any one type of plant, too. For example, I clipped only three hydrangea flowers, four old zinnias, and only a couple of totally dried, brown gardenias. If you use just a little bit of lots of different plants, you won’t need to denude any one.

Here’s my finished wreath hanging above our nature table. It will change over the next several weeks as autumn wears on, which seems just right to me.

How do you honor the changing of the seasons in your home?

Last week I picked a bouquet of late summer flowers from my garden. I have cosmos grown from seed that are now taller than me. My cannas are nearing the end of their bloom, and some are making seeds. These last surprisingly long in a vase. I clipped a “Mother of Pearl” rose from one of this year’s new rosebushes and my favorite, “Rio Samba” is in its third bloom of the summer.

Some mint filled out the bouquet with fragrant green and little flower spikes.

Mostly my bouquet featured some terrific coral zinnias, also grown from seed. There’s only one plant, but it’s huge and thriving. I love them!

Imagine our surprise when three days later we found this fellow on a zinnia! The flowers in the vase were beginning to tire and droop and dry. And this caterpillar was still alive and on them, munching away.

He explored and ate while we grabbed our “butterfly garden” from the garage, picked fresh zinnias and place them in a small vase of water, and enclosed them and the caterpillar in the mesh enclosure. We wondered what the caterpillar might like to eat and brought in various leaves for him.

Then, we lost him. That is, try as we might, we couldn’t see him anywhere in the enclosure. I worried that he hadn’t had appropriate food and had died and shriveled up invisibly.

Then, one day, we found him again! He looked a little darker in color.

Then, he disappeared once more. Uh oh!

Today, Daddy found a little brown chrysalis tucked into a fold at the bottom of the mesh and fabric enclosure. We are now eagerly waiting to see what will happen next. Will a butterfly emerge? We hope so!

I’ve already written about how my gorgeous, generous friends gave me oil painting classes for my birthday here and here. I figured I’d better report on how things are going.

I LOVE IT.

This was my first setup, in a too-dark shot taken by my cell phone, which doesn’t capture even half the necessary composition, beauty, perspective, color, or light that made up these sunflowers.

This is my finished painting (and a detail is at the very top). See how I avoided those wicked stripes? Too hard!

In class, my makeshift palette box (glass from my fridge shelf that broke in a pizza box) stands near my borrowed easel. I try really hard not to knock stuff onto the floor. I have a new brush cleaning jar with a fancy coil thingy that’s supposed to keep my brushes in good shape. I used some old cadmium yellow light paint that my Nana had; I had to squeeze hard to get it out of the tube, then it squirted everywhere. So far, there’s little grace involved. Still, painting is challenging and thought-provoking in the most delicious way.

Here is my second painting in progress; the photo was taken at the end of the third class. I had too much solvent on my canvas by the middle of this class, so my paint wouldn’t stick properly, especially on the vase. I was still working out my background color. During the second session working on this painting (fourth class), that wasn’t the case and I was able to finish it.

This is what the studio looks like. There’s my second (silk flower) setup in the lower middle.

My teacher and my classmates are very supportive and said kind things. I’m very happy with this painting, all things considered! Can’t wait to do more. I think my brain is growing and my eyes are seeing more.

It’s the end of July and my garden is beautiful. It’s lush and sticky. It’s reaching high.

I have plants ranging wide, sprawling and searching for new nooks, new ladders to climb.

So many residents here are sunny and happy, compulsively blooming their hearts out,

bursting, bellowing, calling out their names,

flashing their colors and ruffles to the world.

Of course, there are quiet, shady moments in the day, moments of rest—

but when the sun is shining and the heat is on, it’s a riot,

a carnival with shining samba dancers wearing ruffles.

Their energy pulses out each morning and throughout the day.

There’s more than just vain flowers growing here. There is purpose. The corn has tassels, the pumpkins and squashes are tempting insects to visit.

The basil is zingy delicious and we’ve been picking beans for weeks. The sungold tomatoes are like candy right off the vine.

The song these plants are singing is  increase, grow, bloom, swell, mingle, and make.

For now.

And it’s all feeding us in so many ways.

May and June are my happy garden months. There’s enough water and temps aren’t yet crazy hot—usually. This year, I’m enjoying some reseeded plants that have popped up all on their own. Since I enjoy their parent plants, these babies are making me happy.

Reseeded calendula is popping up all over this flower bed. I also have a bunch of baby dusty millers, too.

Summer is time for the hydrangeas to shine. I have six of these now and each is a different color.

I recently planted two delphinium plants. I’m reading that they can be somewhat fussy, but their blooms are spectacular, so I thought I’d try them. The star jasmine is blooming now and it makes the whole backyard smell sweet and wonderful.

I created these wish flags for a craft project and article I wrote for Little Acorn Learning’s June Enrichment Guide. I love them so much that I have made many, many more. I even opened it up to friends and asked if anyone had a wish they wanted me to add to my wishing tree. I’ve now got everything from general prayers for love, happiness, and abundance to specific wishes for healthy bedrest/birth and specific fall classes for friends. The flags are fabric rectangles with wished written on them. For the last few flags, I need to drag out the big ladder because I can’t reach the higher branches and the lower ones are pretty full!

This summer we are targeting for improvement this area near our patio. We have in years past planted our vegetable garden here with some success. But the trouble with that is that it’s an unattractive area for a good part of the year. So we’re putting in perennials with some spots of annuals for punch. The big area of pink poppies is one plant grown from seed—one of only two poppy seeds that took last year. But, I love it and it’s a showstopper. I’ve put in a couple of roses for some height, a golden coreopsis and an amazing peachy verbena (below). Still to go in are two types of salvia, some nemesia, a muticolored wallflower, and a rock rose. This should help make this part of the yard considerably prettier.

A Flickr friend thinks this bird is a female American Goldfinch. She is perching on a stalk of chard (left) that has bolted. This crazy plant has lived in my yard for two years now. We eat bits off it and leave the rest. As a result, I have tons of baby chards growing everywhere. I plan to eat those, too. It may be that the Goldfinch has similar designs on the chard.

Awesome, isn’t it? I’ve had purple and scarlet verbena before, but never this color. Charming.

I have all sorts of flower seeds in the ground, with some nice little seedlings coming up. Nasturtiums, morning glories, cosmos, and other goodies. In the veggie garden we have tomato plants growing, cantaloupe, beans, corn, pumpkins, butternut squash, basil, one zucchini, and one eggplant. (Most of this is Lucas’s garden. I only planted the stuff he’s not interested in eating.) My fingers are crossed!

Yes, I know it’s June 1 today but this post is full of May flowers that I’ve collected over the last few weeks. What’s crazy is that at this very moment, it’s hailing and pouring rain. This is not the sort of weather that summer roses are accustomed to around here. Yet perhaps I can conjure summer with these beauties. Above are “popcorn” roses at Mom and Dad’s house.

Bearded iris

Lilac dipping low over the swimming pool

Mom’s perfect calla lily

“Daybreak” rose

Zany gazania

Coastal California poppies and other wildflowers

Sunny ice plant

“The Earth laughs in flowers.”  —Ralph Waldo Emerson

It is not raining rain to me,
It’s raining daffodils;
In every dimpled drop I see
Wild flowers on the hills.

The clouds of gray engulf the day
And overwhelm the town;
It is not raining rain to me,
It’s raining roses down.

It is not raining rain to me,
But fields of clover bloom,
Where any buccaneering bee
Can find a bed and room.

A health unto the happy,
A fig for him who frets!
It is not raining rain to me,
It’s raining violets.

—Robert Loveman, “April Rain”

“It is summer,” said the fairy,

“Bring me tissue light and airy;

Bring me colors of the rarest,

Search the rainbow for the fairest

Seashell pink and sunny yellow,

Kingly crimson, deep and mellow …

Bring me diamonds, shining brightly

Where the morning dew lies lightly …

With an art no fay discloses

I am going to make some roses!”

—Mary F. Butts