gardening | Bertram's Blog

Something to Celebrate

April 8, 2022 — Pat Bertram

For many years after Jeff died, I was conflicted about life. If life mattered, why wasn’t he still here? And if life didn’t matter, why am I still here? I’m still conflicted when I think about it, so I don’t. At least I try not to. Instead, I try to focus on living, on making living a purposeful, active act rather than passively going about my days.

To that end, I try to find something to celebrate every day, perhaps a nice meal, an unexpected visit with a friend, a smile exchanged with someone I have business dealings with, or even just that the sun is shining.

Today I have something special to celebrate: the first tulip of the season!

Although not as spectacular, I also have a tiny clump of a bulbous perennial called Glory of the Snow that bloomed a day or two earlier.

There are still several weeks of possible frosts before planting. The weather seems to be taking that schedule to heart because most nights are getting down below freezing. I wouldn’t be surprised if this year the frost deadline is extended a week or two further into May, though it is warming up, and tomorrow will be downright balmy — in the eighties! Still, until the warmth and gardening weather is here to stay, it’s good to see — and celebrate — whatever decides to show its beautiful face.

And today it was the tulip.

***

Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One. “Grief: The Inside Story is perfect and that is not hyperbole! It is exactly what folk who are grieving need to read.” –Leesa Healy, RN, GDAS GDAT, Emotional/Mental Health Therapist & Educator.

Posted in gardening, life. Tags: celebrating life, first tulip of the season, glory of the snow, living actively, living purposefully. 4 Comments »

Perfect Spring Day

April 2, 2022 — Pat Bertram

Today was a perfect spring day — warm, slight breeze, clear skies. It’s been a while since the last rain, so I took the opportunity to water my grass and other plants. In retrospect, it would probably have been a good idea not to walk to the grocery store first, but I needed to get a few things, and besides, it hadn’t yet warmed up yet enough to water when I left to do my errand. (It has to be warm because I tend to drench myself, and I don’t particularly relish the idea of catching a chill.)

Now — ouch — I am sore all over. I’m not used to being on my feet that long, nor am I used to all the walking, not just to the store but around my yard. Because of the configuration of the greenery, with long swaths of grass rather than one huge lawn, I have to keep moving the hoses. I set one in the front and one in the back, and by the time I get back to the front, it’s time to move the hose. So then I return to the back yard and move that hose and head to the front again. A soaker hose would be a good idea, but that’s all it is — a good idea. I’ve never found one that does the job. And anyway, it irritates me having to set a hose, come inside until it’s time to move it, and then just when I’m getting involved in doing something, having to go back outside. It’s far easier, though perhaps more painful, just to stay outside and enjoy the day until the task is finished.

When it heats up enough to where I have to water more frequently, it would probably be a good idea if I did the grass one day and the flowers and bushes the next. Doing it all in one day is what set my poor feet on fire. But it’s worth it. The yard is looking good!

I never particularly cared for grass; it seemed rather a frivolous plant, so I find the pride — and joy — I take in my lawn amusing. And I do take joy in it. Although the grass had faded somewhat during the winter, it’s greening up again, and oh, is it bright! Gemstone bright.

Also sprouting up are the larkspur that planted themselves last year after I let the flowers go to seed. The wild mustard is sprouting, too. I will eventually have to pull up the mustard, since it’s a weed that takes over, but now, when it is young and ferny, it is so pretty. The lilacs are coming alive, too, and it looks as if a few of those young bushes might even have flowers this year.

So perfect weather. Lots of green. Signs of growth. All that adds up to such a perfect spring day, I don’t even mind how sore I am. Well, not much.

***

What if God decided S/He didn’t like how the world turned out, and turned it over to a development company from the planet Xerxes for re-creation? Would you survive? Could you survive?

A fun book for not-so-fun times.

Click here to buy Bob, The Right Hand of God.

Posted in gardening, home, life. Tags: finding joy in my grass, landscaping, pride in my lawn, spring day, too much walking, watering the lawn. 5 Comments »

Weather and Walking

March 24, 2022 — Pat Bertram

The good news is that the latest snowstorm didn’t seem to affect my upcoming tulips except perhaps to encourage a few more to break through the ground.

The bad news is . . . well, there really is no bad news. There is bad news elsewhere, of course, but within my personal gated community (i.e., my fenced-in property), all is well

We did have horrific winds yesterday, but the only damage they did was to blow away the petals of the crocuses that had already bloomed. There are a few more crocuses coming up, so any bloom time that was cut short will be more than offset by the new blossoms. Today is a gorgeous day, blue skies, still air, and warming temperatures. By the weekend, it will be astonishingly warm — in the low eighties. Wow! If there are no winds accompanying those glorious temperatures, it should be a good day for walking.

I never used to let weather get in the way of my taking a walk, but I do now, especially when it’s slushy or windy or too hot or too cold. Unfortunately, I also let other things get in the way — work, too much to do, too tired, and all the other things that knock me out of routine. Last summer gardening was the culprit. Any work in the yard had to be done early before the day heated up, and by the time I finished watering and weeding and all the other small tasks necessary to take care of a yard, it was too hot to spend any more time outside, so the walking fell by the wayside. If all that weren’t enough, then there was the whole knee issue that really put the kibosh on walking.

With any luck and my knees willing, this summer I’m hoping to be able to do both the yard work and take a walk, but I seem to have lost the compelling urge to walk once I moved here. (Even when my knees prevented me from walking, I still felt the compulsion, but now I don’t.) So much of the walking I did for more than a decade was grief-induced. Grief seemed to keep me on the move, though I’m not sure why. Perhaps I was trying to run away from grief. Maybe I simply needed to relieve the stress of grief. It could be I needed the Zen of walking to keep me centered. Possibly the training for an epic long hike kept me focused on the future rather than the past. Most probably, it was a bit of all those things. With much of my grief-induced problems resolved, the impetus for walking isn’t there especially since my current walking paths lead me only around town rather than through nature, so now I have to rely on discipline to get me out there, and that is in short supply.

Once I am back in the habit of walking, it won’t be a problem keeping the habit going. Well, it won’t be a problem until the wind rises, slush happens, it gets too hot, my knees go wonky again, or work and chores intervene.

Even today, though I am looking forward to a walk, it’s possible that I will have to go to work instead. In that case, I’ll try again tomorrow, and if that doesn’t work out, then the next day. Or the next one after that.

***

Posted in gardening, grief, life. Tags: grief and stress, grief and walking, out of the habit of walking, the good news, warm weather, wonky knees. 2 Comments »

Slushfall

March 22, 2022 — Pat Bertram

The weather couldn’t decide what it wanted to do yesterday. First it rained, then it snowed, then it slushed. I had not experienced a slushfall before, but apparently, it was too cold for rain, too warm for snow to form flakes, and so what fell were globules of slush.

This wouldn’t have been a problem except for the poor drainage in this town. Apparently, some functionary at one time decided it was a good idea to get rid of the culverts and hump the streets instead. This tends to keep the streets dry, because moisture drains to curbs and street gutters, but since the gutters don’t drain as they should, water tend to puddle, making it impossible to cross the street on foot in wet weather.

Normally, I solve the problem of flooded gutters by walking in the street, but at the cross streets, there are bumper-scraping dips on either side of the road, which drain slowly, so on days like yesterday, not only do the gutters overflow, so do those deep dips. The flooding was so severe, I had to walk way out of my way to find places to cross the rivers of slush to get to work. By afternoon, there was so much slush, I wouldn’t have been able to find a way to avoid sloshing through the flooded areas, and I dreaded walking home in the inevitable sodden boots and socks.

The place where I work is two blocks from my house. I have walked those two blocks in deep snow, frigid winds, icy rains, moonless nights, horrendous heat. No matter what the weather, I have turned down offers of a ride because I wanted that small adventure.

Well, the slush defeated me, so last night, I gladly accepted a ride. It was the only way to get around and through the flooded areas.

Fearing that the slush would freeze overnight, I went out in the dark and shoveled the walk. I also shoveled my ramp from the front door to the sidewalk as best as I could without scraping off the paint and non-skid strips. My best wasn’t all that good because today I have an icy slide all the way down to the sidewalk, which sort of defeats the purpose of a handicap ramp. Luckily, the sun is out, so it won’t be long until the ice melts.

I have no idea what impact this weather will have on my tulips. They’d already started poking through the ground, but perhaps the temperatures didn’t drop below freezing long enough to have an effect. But there’s nothing I can do about it. The poor things are on their own.

As for me, I can only hope the melting will help drain the slushy street gutters and dips so I can manage to get to work with relatively dry feet. If not, well, I’ll bring dry shoes and socks so I won’t have to spend the day in sodden footwear.

These are last year’s tulips. With any luck, they will bloom again this year.

***

Posted in gardening, home, life. Tags: flooded street gutters, poor drainage, shoveling snow, slushy weather, tulips, walking home from work. 4 Comments »

Blooming Time

March 21, 2022 — Pat Bertram

It was raining when I got up this morning, which thrilled me, thinking of the great start it will give the wildflowers I planted last fall, as well as encourage the tulips that are breaking through the ground.

As I wrote that first sentence, the rain turned to snow, but I doubt it will cause any problems because the temperatures shouldn’t fall below freezing. And anyway, I’m sure the snow will turn back to rain shortly — it’s barely cold enough for it to snow (36 degrees Fahrenheit), and it’s supposed to get a bit warmer as the day progresses.

I used to dread such weather on a workday, back when I had to drive to work, because there was no way to avoid the poor traffic conditions. Luckily, I only have to walk two blocks to work. I bring dry shoes and socks so I don’t have to worry about sitting around all day with wet feet, and I have a couple of coats that will repel the rain. At least, they’re supposed to.

An umbrella would be nice, but even if the wind wasn’t picking up, I need to use my walking sticks on days like this. Not only will there by snowy patches to navigate, there will also be mud puddles, which is even worse. The soil here is clay, and oh, is that clay slick! It adheres to everything, too. I haven’t managed to get all the mud cleaned off my shoes from the last muddy walk I took.

But I’d rather not think of such things, and instead think of all the good this moisture will do to my water-starved yard. (We’ve barely had enough snow to wet the ground, and it’s been way too cold for me to supplement the natural moisture with water from a hose.)

A rain like this should help germinate any of the wildflower seeds, assuming the birds didn’t eat them all, which is especially nice since not only will it give the remaining seeds a good start, but I’ll be able to tell where I need to replant come May. (The last frost generally shows up the first week of May, so it’s no worth taking a chance before then.)

It’s amazing to think that, despite the snow, spring really is here! Blooming time won’t be far behind.

This photo is from last spring since blooming time is not yet here, but from the looks of my garden, it seems as if the larkspur is coming up already, and in a month or two, it will look like the picture. I can hardly wait!

***

Posted in gardening, life. Tags: rain is good for wildflowers, rain turning to snow, spring is here, spring rains, spring snow storm. 2 Comments »

March Showers Bring March Flowers

March 19, 2022 — Pat Bertram

I realize April showers are supposed to bring May’s flowers, and with any luck, that will hold true this year, but the showers we had this month brought some much-needed color to my life.

You’d think that the way I photograph these blooms so lovingly that my yard would be carpeted in color, but unfortunately, that is not true.

The flowers are small, at least in comparison to the wide swaths of dirt in which they’ve been planted.

Despite the small size, and the sparse blooms, each flower is a treasure and is loved for itself.

It does tickle me, though, when people tell me they wish they could see my garden, when the truth is, they (and you!) get to see every flower that blooms.

Someday, perhaps, I will have a garden to show off, but for now, I’m just delighted I have any blooms to share on this lovely last day of winter.

***

Pat Bertram is the author of intriguing fiction and insightful works of grief.

Posted in gardening, home, life, photography. Tags: dwarf iris, last day of winter, purple crocus, yellow crocus. 4 Comments »

Spring Springs Forward

March 13, 2022 — Pat Bertram

Early this morning, we needed to spring our clocks forward, and somehow, the crocus must have thought we were supposed to spring spring itself forward, not just the clocks, because look what I found in my yard!

I wasn’t even looking. I’d been checking on the tulips to see how they survived the latest cold spell — they did — but I caught a glimpse of yellow of the corner of my eye and went to investigate. Oh, such a lovely color!

Someday, I hope to know enough about gardening and plants to have a luxurious yard, but I doubt I’d be more pleased with a yard full of color than I am with just a single blossom. On the other hand, I could be rapturous, but I wouldn’t know since I’ve never managed to grow that many flowers at once. Still, whether one or many, I do so enjoy any plants that manage to flower despite my inexperience. I have a hunch the main thing now is to make sure the bulbs get plenty of water since we are going through a drought, though with another midweek cold spell on its way, I’m not sure how much I should give them. I suppose I could pretend we had an early rainstorm and hope the bulbs get the message.

Meantime, it’s delightful to have this colorful evidence that spring really is on the way.

***

What if God decided S/He didn’t like how the world turned out, and turned it over to a development company from the planet Xerxes for re-creation? Would you survive? Could you survive? If you haven’t yet read this book, now is the time to buy since it’s on sale.

Click here to buy Bob, The Right Hand of God.

Posted in gardening, life. Tags: crocus, early spring, spring forward, spring in a drought, yellow crocus. 2 Comments »

Lazing and Lolling

March 11, 2022 — Pat Bertram

Despite the end of winter coming in just over a week, there are very few signs of spring, though generally by this time the snow drops are coming up and the tulips are poking through the soil. There are no snow drops yet, but a couple of tulip tips were visible before this latest round of snow and single digit temperatures. (Last night, it got down to 7 degrees Fahrenheit.) From what I can see, those brave tulips are still green beneath the snow, but the sort of up and down weather we’ve been having is hard on spring blooms.

I suppose this kamikaze weather — warm spells interrupted every week by winter storms blowing through — doesn’t give the bulbs much impetus to wake up and be perky. Come to think of it, this weather doesn’t give me much impetus to wake up and be perky, either, but ever since I moved here, I can’t sleep past first light so, perky or not, I do get up. I’m hoping the bulbs will eventually do the same, though there’s not much I can do about it if the drought exacerbated by this peculiar weather pattern has killed their interest in waking up.

Surprisingly, the ground isn’t frozen. I went out in the mid-morning chill to loosen the ground around my newly planted trees, and I was able to get down pretty far. The person who planted them for me dug post holes rather than a big bowl, and I needed to loosen the dirt to give the roots an easier time of spreading when growing season starts. I might not have gotten down far enough to make any difference to the roots, but at least the loose dirt will help soak up moisture, which will then loosen the deeper soil. At least, that’s my surmise. It might not make any difference at all, but I worried about the trees, so I needed to make the effort to my quiet my mind.

That bit of digging made me look forward to gardening weather. The last frost here generally comes around the fifth of May, so I can’t do any planting until then, but there will certainly be plenty to do once the weather is consistently warmer. If nothing else, I can water my grass and my bulbs. The lilies (which may or may not come up depending on whether I planted them deep enough), like a lot of water in spring, and not so much later in the summer. I also still have a few patches of weeds to dig up. I wanted to wait until after the trees were planted, thinking the weeds would be dug up when the holes were dug, but that didn’t happen. Still, it’s a small area, and I got started on that today.

I’ve been rather lazy this winter, lolling about, reading and doing as little as possible (though come to think of it, I’ve been working a lot more hours at my job the past few months, so that cut into my lolling time). It makes me wonder how I will cope with having a lot to do when gardening season rolls around. I suppose I’ll do what I always do — do what I can when I can. Of course, I won’t know what all I’ll have to do until May when I see what comes up and what I need to replace or replant. Until then, I’ll continue my winter ways, lazing and lolling.

***

Pat Bertram is the author of intriguing fiction and insightful works of grief.

Posted in gardening, house, life. Tags: being lazy, end of winter, gardening season, last frost, planting trees, spring is coming, winter lazy. Leave a Comment »

Plum Dreaming

March 10, 2022 — Pat Bertram

On Monday, I received the greengage plum trees to replace those that didn’t make it through last winter. Yesterday, my contractor finally sent someone to help me plant them. (Meaning the “someone” did all the work; I just held the trees upright to make sure they weren’t out of plumb.) These two trees seem much stronger than the previous batch, which is good because the poor things are certainly dealing with a lot of transplant trauma right now. First, they had to deal with the trauma of being uprooted. Then they were packaged and sent halfway across the country. After sitting here in the cold for two days, they were put to rest in their new, permanent home. And then came snow.

The poor things really are having to deal with a lot, but luckily, they are still dormant, and even luckier, they don’t have to go through an entire winter — after all, despite the wintry weather, spring will be here in ten days.

It’s supposed to snow again tonight, but I can’t imagine the additional snow will make any difference. At this point, I’ve done all I could. They are on their own.

Meantime, I am dreaming of a time when I can pick a plum from my tree. The place where Jeff and I lived had a whole thicket of greengage plums, and they were by far the best fruit I’d ever eaten. (Think of the sweetest plum you’ve ever eaten, the most perfect apricot, combine them, add a hint of lime and you have the food of the gods — greengage plums.)

When I was in California, a friend brought me a bunch of greengages from her tree, and they were terrible. In retrospect, they weren’t that bad, I suppose, but they weren’t at all like “my” greengages.

I have no idea what the plums I just planted will be like. These trees are grafted to a black plum root, where mine weren’t, which is why I had a whole thicket of the plum trees — the “volunteers” that sprang from the roots grew wildly in that uncultivated field, and that is something that can’t happen with these trees. The soil, too, is different here, so who knows what I will end up with.

If the trees grow, and if they blossom, and if the blossoms become fruit, and if there are any plums left for me after the birds feast on the fruit . . .

That’s a lot of “if”s between now and a possible harvest. If, after all that, they are no good, well, there’s always plum jam. Or I could simply leave them for the birds.

But that’s a problem for another time. For now, I will be satisfied with healthy trees that can survive this mutable climate, though I can’t help dreaming of the delectable plums I once knew.

***

What if God decided S/He didn’t like how the world turned out, and turned it over to a development company from the planet Xerxes for re-creation? Would you survive? Could you survive?

A fun book for not-so-fun times.

Click here to buy Bob, The Right Hand of God.

Posted in gardening, home, life. Tags: food of the gods, greengage plums, planting dormant plum trees, planting plum trees, transplant trauma. 2 Comments »

An Exercise in Hope

March 6, 2022 — Pat Bertram

I had a nice surprise today: snow! We haven’t had so much snow this winter that I’m sick of it, and anyway, it wasn’t much of a snow — just enough to cover the ground and my front ramp while leaving the sidewalks clear. But it was enough to make a day spent inside feel cozy, especially when accompanied by a book and a cup of lemony spiced tea.

More snow is expected for Thursday, along with frigid temperatures, but hopefully the intervening days will be warm enough for digging.

I’d planted three 6-foot- tall greengage plum trees at the beginning of last winter, which was supposed to be the optimum time for planting, so that’s when the nursery sent the trees. One of the trees did well, but two didn’t survive the winter, though sprouts did shoot out just above the graft mark. (I was hoping to get trees with greengage roots so the inevitable volunteers would turn the tree into a greengage forest, but I took what I could get.) I lopped off the trees just above the shoot, and one of truncated trees seems to be doing well, but still, the nursery said they’d replace both trees. (I had to pay shipping, which made those replacement trees rather expensive, but hopefully it will be worth it, especially since they won’t replace the replacement trees if there is a problem.)

They decided not to take a chance on the replacement trees not making it through the winter, so they promised to send them in March, which sounded good a year ago. Well, now it’s March. Those trees are slated to arrive tomorrow, which is why I’m hoping for decent digging weather. I can’t plant those trees by myself; even if I could dig the hole deep enough (which I can’t), I couldn’t hold the tree upright and fill in the hole at the same time. My contractor said he’d send someone to help, and I’m sure he will. Eventually.

Luckily, it will be cold enough that the trees shouldn’t come out of dormancy if they have to wait a bit. I suppose if worst comes to worst, I can do the planting myself over several days, but I doubt that will happen. I have been so patient with this contractor that generally when something is time-sensitive, he figures he owes me and he gets it done. (Oddly, these extra things he does so quickly for me are more in the line of favors since they are handyman jobs rather than typical contractor projects.)

As always, though, any gardening project is an exercise in hope. I hope the trees get here safely. I hope they get planted in time. I hope they grow. I hope they blossom. I hope someday to eat plums picked off my own trees.

A lot of hope!

But first, the snow.

***

What if God decided S/He didn’t like how the world turned out, and turned it over to a development company from the planet Xerxes for re-creation? Would you survive? Could you survive?

A fun book for not-so-fun times.

Click here to buy Bob, The Right Hand of God.