Sunday, April 24, 2016

Counting Cows And Chickens

I was engrossed with editing today. Slow and leisurely, round and round, I am well on my way to eliminating the annual Cleavers or Velcro Weed, Galium aparine, from the garden before it has a chance to set seed. That just leaves the sunny utility meadow and ridge top garden to edit.

It was a most beautiful day and traffic on the scenic byway was buzzing. I don't pay much attention to the motorcycles and all the other noise as it thunders by. What was that?

Who cares. The Fothergilla is blooming nicely.





















There is a bumper crop of the biennial Angelica gigas in the sunny utility meadow this year. If that all blooms it is going to be quite the show. If. It still has to make it past out average annual last frost date unharmed which is still three weeks away despite the summer like temperatures. If we have another hard freeze now it will be ugly. Everything is too far along for another freeze. I shouldn't count on a stellar bloom hatching just yet.

I did get two angelica to take in my garden. They should bloom this year. I will let them go to seed and spread about the garden. That is the plan anyway.





















What was that noise? Look Miss Collar. See that cow. Look. There is a black cow on the scenic byway. So that is what I heard earlier that sounded different. Mooo.

Absolutely not. Do not come down my driveway. Shoo cow. Shoo.

I made it up to the roadside vegetable garden to chop down a dead rose and do a touch of weeding. I was so engrossed in editing, I had no idea a black cow was in the vegetable garden mooing. Do you know how deep a black cow can sink in fluffy soil? At least the tracks said it was a single round trip.

I called the cow people. My regulars would not claim it. It must have come from the Kingdom of Madison. The last I saw it, the cow was on a fast trot back to Madison with a line of motorcycles behind it.





















One of my cow regulars did stop by just to have a look and be safe. We talked story a bit, ramps and wild pigs. The pigs were getting in his pasture. Did I see those ladies parked below coming out of the woods with sacks stuffed full of ramps?

Wild pigs, loose cows, ramp rustlers, root and tuber eating varmints. I was glad to see my Clintonia umbellulata lilies had come up and had multiplied.





















While I edit I see what is missing, what has multiplied and what I plain forgot about. I found a Fly Poison I didn't remember planting. It was looking good. I don't think I planted this trillium. I know they can spread by seed on their own. What was that seed I gathered and planted last fall? I thought it might be Doll's Eye, Actaea pachypoda. It was still green when I picked it. It will be years before it would bloom and make eyes if any of the seeds germinate. By the time that happens, it will be a complete surprise. Where did that come from?


4 comments:

Sallysmom said...

My fotergilla had a grand total of 2 blooms on it this year. We had a drought summer last year and no winter to speak of. I guess that is what did it.

Lisa at Greenbow said...

Don't you love those surprises! I would faint if a cow came into our garden. We live too close to town. Not many cattle farmers around here. I live in the middle of corn country. Corn and beans. Beans and corn with some watermelons, cantaloupe and asparagus thrown in.

Christopher C. NC said...

Our mild winter seems to be helping Sallysmom. The various bearded iris may even bloom decent this year.

Lisa loose cows are a regular occurrence. One cow is not so bad, many cows make a mess. Surprises are fun. I found a Goatsbeard I thought had froze to death still trying to live.

Carol McKenzie said...

I'd have expected cows back in Wisconsin; here in Kentucky we have horses. Everyone on this little road has a horse or three. And sometimes they get out. Occasionally they run through our yard. Once in a while they run through while I'm in the yard. And then I run faster than they do and get out of their way. If I'm lucky they stay out of the garden beds. If I'm really lucky, they leave a souvenir.