Porch Pansies

 There is nothing at all ordinary about ordinary life.
        ~Elizabeth Berg in Make Someone Happy

I planted the porch pansies today. Oh, I looked at more exotic plants at the garden center, but in the end I stayed with my tried-and-true and much beloved pansies. 

When they are first transplanted, they lie down for a day or two, and then they perk right up and get on with business. I understand, because when we moved to the desert from New Hampshire it took me a while to feel at home.

They will bloom on the porch all during this, my 80th winter. They will show their colors right where I can see them from my knitting and reading chair. Even when the mountains in the distance are dusted with snow, they will bloom. 

I love their colors and their little faces. 

Retiring to the Garden

I don't think I ever worried about filling up my retirement days. First, I just wanted to read and read, and read some more. However, the view from my reading chair kept beckoning me outside, and I began to spend more and more time in the yard.

The landscaping that came with our little adobe cottage was plain. Big trees and rocks out front; green lawn out back. Some of the trees fell down and some had to be taken out. A few remain and we are thankful for their shade. 

The plain landscaping was little trouble, but I like flowers. So I added some.

And some more...

... and "some" hollyhocks.

Out back, we added a flock of chickens and a plain little shed to house them. That plain little shed was no trouble until the roof started sagging. And we didn't like looking at it from our shady patio.

It only took us a couple of weeks of sweaty summertime work to make a big change to that chicken house. Bill ripped off the saggy roof (to the consternation of the hens who were sitting the chicken house attic nests at the time), and put down new plywood, roofing paper, flashing, and shingles. 

I painted and embellished. 

Windchime/door knocker/flower arrangement

A faux window box, propped up by a broken chair 

that was brought back to life with a little spray paint.

Window box detail, after a week or so: 

The flowers are starting to recover from being transplanted.

Early Mornings in the Garden

Winters were hard back in New Hampshire. We would emerge from the long cold snowy months with a feeling that we really survived something.

Here in New Mexico, June is the month to survive. It's a hard one, the hottest of all the months, with wicked temperatures in the late afternoons.

I never tire of sunrise reflections in the flooded pecan orchard that surrounds us

But the mornings are glorious! I treasure any morning when we don't have errands or obligations of one sort or another--any morning when I can get out into the garden really early to poke around, dig a bit, get everything watered, visit with the chickens, and just appreciate our yard and its mountain views.

This morning, while Bill biked around the city, trying to beat the rising temps, I did all my favorite things out in the garden. Now it's afternoon, 104 degrees outside, and we are doing our best to stay still and stay cool. It's a perfect time to share some early morning photos. 

A late hollyhock bud

Beverly Sills, my first iris success and the inspiration for our trip to the iris farm
and the irises that we brought home from there

Iris Cinque Terre

Iris Nigerian Raspberry

Iris Fiery Temper

One of the girls, concentrating on laying her morning egg

Don't know if this fellow is an albino or if he just molted and is waiting for his color to come back.
There were two like this hopping around the front yard today.

In the Garden This Morning

Just a couple of weeks ago, this was the garden scene from the front porch: I was happy for the flowers, but things were pretty sparse and the trees were still bare. 

With the arrival of Spring, our annual jungle-look flower garden starts taking shape out front. I wish you could have heard the morning birdsong as I took these photos. 

I love the early morning light. Even the spent pansy blossoms are glorious.

We are just at the end of pansy season; I planted these last November
and they have lasted all winter. The heat of April is getting to them now.

It's hard to get a shot of these brilliant cactus blooms: They are so much better in real life!

First blossoms on the Bertie Memorial Tree; a gift from Helen, this desert
bird of paradise was planted as a memorial to our dear Bertie Pierre

We are at the very beginning of hollyhock season; hundreds of buds
are waiting to open 

Paradise Lost, for Skywatch

Desert Bird of Paradise

I find our desert bird of paradise to be very decorative, even when the flowers are about to lose their petals. I especially like the flowers with the skies of the Mesilla Valley in the background. 


When I looked around for some nice quotes about paradise, or paradise lost, I found this one by Doug Larson:  Utility is when you have one telephone, luxury is when you have two, opulence is when you have three - and paradise is when you have none...


... but my chickens liked this one better: If one cannot catch the bird of paradise, better take a wet hen.  (Nikita Khrushchev).

For skies from everywhere, be sure to visit Skywatch Friday.

My First Hollyhocks

I have always wanted to grow hollyhocks and tried to do so in New Hampshire, with no success at all. New Mexico, however, seems to be made for them. The sight of the giant plants flowering against an adobe wall just warms my heart.

Well, here we are: Moved to New Mexico (check); got some adobe walls (check); got some blooming hollyhocks (check).

These flowers, however, are shown against our utilitarian cyclone fencing, the stuff that keeps the dogs in. The plan for someday is to have an adobe wall built across the front of the property. All in good time!

You can click each photo to enlarge it.

My friend Diane gave me the seeds last year. Growing hollyhocks, as you probably know, is a two year deal. They are biennials, growing lots of low foliage the first year, then shooting up to higher than my head and blooming in the second year

The colors shade from palest pink to a dark red. The red ones are coming out soon and I'll take more pictures. 

What's in the Garden, Mid-April

These smell so good

I love this petunia, called Antique Shades

Double Delight rose.
Those tattered hollyhock leaves got that way because of certain cats hunting lizards underneath. There's a whole lot of leaping going on.

Verbena

I'm very excited about these hollyhocks, which are my first. Last year, as biennials do, they put out lots of leaves. This year they are shooting up, growing inches in a day and are loaded with flower buds that will bloom in shades of pink, rose, and burgundy. These plants come up to my chin now.
Thank you, Diane, for the seeds! 

Here is beautiful Gracie, part of the lizard patrol. 

Pink and Gold and Azure

He dreamt that he was walking in drifts of soft, pale-colored stuff, shreds and threads of pink and gold and azure, and felt a foolish pleasure...
                                                                           ~Ursula K. Le Guin, The Farthest Shore




Ah, pink and gold and azure. The phrase stopped me in my reading tracks and I went off into a dream of my own. What beautiful words, and they described exactly what I had been planting out in the front yard. All the sweaty hours were suddenly worth the time spent digging and hoeing and mixing and shoveling. Pink and gold and azure...

Crape Myrtle

Geranium

Gold something--actually, I think this is yellow bells, also called yellow trumpet flower (not the vine, it's a shrub), Tecoma stans

Glorious sky blue plumbago

What's Blooming?

We see these little trees everywhere. I finally asked one of the profs down at a New Mexico State University garden what they are. Oddly enough, they are called desert bird of paradise, not to be confused with the exotic-looking bird of paradise flower that one sees in California. Apparently, these come in either red or yellow; I've only seen the yellow ones so far.

The creamy blossoms of the yucca have just about gone by.

This is a happy little weed growing by the side of the road.

These oleander bushes were completely loaded with blossoms. I've seen them everywhere in white, dark pink, and a kind of murky-looking lighter pink. I'd really love to get one in a butter-cream color that I saw at a nursery.

Here is a close-up of the oleander flowers (poisonous if eaten--I've never been tempted!).

Don't forget to keep voting every day in the New Mexico Day of Enchantment Photo Contest, which is continuing to the end of June.

A reminder that spring is on its way

Look at what is blooming out on our front porch...

... and look at what will soon be blooming!

The first day of spring is one thing,

and the first spring day is another.

The difference between them is

sometimes as great as a month.

~Henry Van Dyke