not so big, not so blue

I can be in denial no longer, cold weather is coming. Someplace in the great white north (that’s Minnesota, my Canadian friends) winter is getting ready to pounce.

Our hostas are a hard frost away from mush. Soon the only thing standing will be grasses and ligularia stalks. About the only gardening left is leaf mowing and shredding. We try to wait till most of the leaves have fallen. It normally is a race with the first snow. If the snow arrives before we get to the leaves, our yard work changes to raking soggy leaves into the compost pile.

wordless wednesday

you never know

Last Wednesday Pat received an email from CSU asking for volunteers for the President’s visit to the Wolstein Center. All they asked was that we wear CSU garb and have no political paraphernalia. What a hoot we thought. It made me think of the heady days of our youth when we were idealistic and thinner. In exchange for a day helping out with giving directions (like I'm sorry ma'am, the closest washroom is 8 blocks away and no ma'am, I can't promise to save your place in line) we were promised a seat close enough to get a picture of the President and Vice-President. The Social Studies teacher in me thought how cool that would be. I have never seen a President and Vice-President together. I thought "classroom artifact."

Well, Pat and I were getting instructions from a high level volunteer who got her instructions from some higher entity when a young man asked me if I had ever taught at a this local high school. I introduced myself and told him that I had. His words floored me. He told us that I was the reason he got involved in politics and went to college and is going for his masters next year. WOW! If I wasn’t so jaded, it might have brought a tear to my eye. Instead I figured it was allergies.

I got a bunch of pics of the President and Vice-President and some will make their way to my class room, but the picture that is already there is this one.

a golden glow

The Great Lakes States have been buffeted by high winds all week. It seems the weather system was centered over Minnesota. Maybe it’s revenge for the movie Fargo. I admit I found it a laugh riot. I’ve always liked Bemidji in that Northern Minnesota, middle of nowhere, 10 months of winter, 2 months of poor sledding kind of way. Once again I’m wandering. None the less, it has been windy.

The wind brought some funny surprises. The leaves that all those happy families raked to the curb last week-end are back where they started, in the yard. So while Pat and I are emptying 60 containers this weekend, the leaf blower brigades will be hard at work.

The hostas have turned a golden color. Some are still hanging on, but it’s the end of the line for our hosta till next year. The fading hosta made it easier for me to dig up ligularia to give away. Ligularia seeds itself so well that we have a couple dozen plants to give away.

While the weather lasts, the yard is really bright and pretty.

the last of the flowers

During our weekend garden work I found a bunch of pleasant surprises. The biggest was a hosta that was still flowering. Right in the middle of the hosta, fast turning gold, was this little gem. The anemone seems to be saying that summer's not over.

We cut these day lilies down over a month ago. Maybe I should cut them back earlier next year to see if more get a second bloom.

This candy corn flower is still going strong in the back yard. It sits right at the edge of the shade line.

These impatiens are facing north under our dappled willow. All summer long they seemed to barely hang on. In the last couple of weeks these guys took off.

new bed

Today was the perfect Fall day. Temps were in the high 60’s and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. And as usual, the air was filled with the whirr of leaf blowers. Husbands and wives were bonding through leaf blowing. Chipper faced children where giddy with excitement, doing their part in hauling leaves to the curb. Well, that’s how Norman Rockwell would have painted it.

I spent Friday afternoon clearing pumpkin vines from the flower beds. The flower bed was in remarkable shape. All the flowers that got bulldozed by the pumpkins survived. I’ll tell you that I was very surprised by how good the bed survived. The grass was beat up, but it’s just grass. A quick re-edging of the bed and the bed looked good as new. We still had 2 days to get in trouble.

Pat noticed that the beds were farther apart than she thought. There was 16 feet between the beds from knee to knee. Well, we still had a yard or so of sweet peet, a space calling for something and lots of time because we don’t partake in leaf blowing. New bed, we both said at the same time. How long could it take?

About an hour was all it took.

wordless wednesday

mow 'em, don't blow 'em

I can tell its fall because on Saturday and Sunday mornings I am woken up at what seems to be the crack of dawn by the sound of leaf blowers. Call me cheap or misguided regarding what proper lawn care equipment is, but I just don’t see the need for a leaf blower. Now, don’t get me wrong, there is something cool about the really big backpack models. What 10 year old wouldn’t want one? Putting it on instantly transforms you into your favorite super hero ridding the world of some evil.

So all day during the weekend the whirring sound of leaf blowers resonates throughout our subdivision. Suburban men (it always seems to be men; are women immune from the need?) unwind electric chords or get the 2 cycle gas out and perform what almost seems to be a religious rite. I don’t get it. Why not just mow the leaves into the grass? But no, leaves are blown into big piles by the curb where the wind blows them back into the yard before the city gets around to collecting them. Leaf blowing seems as futile as gluing leaves back on to the trees.

Mow the leaves. It is good for your lawn. If you rake, pile the leaves in a compost pile. I invite everyone to boycott blowing leaves to the curb. The time you save can be used on useful tasks like putting in a new flower bed or my favorite, taking a nap in the sun sitting on a lawn chair.