Bertram's Blog

A Real Garden

May 22, 2023 — Pat Bertram

During the past three or four years, I’ve often posted photos of the flowers in my yard, which made it seem as if I had a real garden rather than the truth — that those flowers were the totality of my garden. A couple of days ago, as I was showing an acquaintance around my yard, it occurred to me that this year, I actually had a real garden. There is so much to see! The wall of larkspur, of course, that planted itself where the grass died and that mesmerizes everyone who sees it.

Siberian wallflowers have made a big presence in one of my garden areas, though I’m not sure where they came from. There were a few seeds in a wildflower mix I threw out there a few years ago, but this was the first time I’d seen any of flowers. They are such a vibrant color! The pink flowers are cottage pinks, returning from last year’s planting.

At the forefront of the wallflowers are coreopsis, also returning from last year.

My yellow iris are beautiful this year.

Although they’ve been coming up each spring, they never seemed healthy, but this year, they are doing exceptionally well.

The wild roses always do well, both the yellow

and the red. Unfortunately, the flowers don’t last long, but that makes me more appreciative of them when they are in bloom.

I always try to create whimsical vignettes, such as my miniature gnome house,

and corners that come as a surprise. Gardens that can be seen at a glance are beautiful, of course, but I wanted to be able to see different things as I wandered around my yard. One of my favorite corners this year is the flamingo corner. The flamingo was a gift from a friend, and though I didn’t purposely choose colors of petunias for the planters to match the flamingo, they turned out to be the perfect choice.

In another couple of weeks, the spring flowers will all be gone, but then there will be summer flowers coming into bloom, and if not, well, there are always seeds I can plant or seedlings to purchase at the local hardware store.

It’s amazing how with a bit of persistence and a lot of luck, all of a sudden one day, a person can end up with a real garden.

***

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: coreopsis, creating a garden, garden corners, garden vignettes, larskpur, wild roses, yellow iris. Leave a Comment »

What a Difference a Month Makes

May 19, 2023 — Pat Bertram

Sometimes, in life, a month — or even a year — seems to bring no changes; it’s only in retrospect that we can look back and see the difference in our lives. In gardening, however, a month can bring dramatic changes. For example, in this photo, taken a month ago, spring is just making itself known. The lighter green along the right side of the path are larkspur that planted themselves where the grass died last year. The grass I planted (the blue seed) to start replacing some of the grass that died, hasn’t begun to sprout. The greengage plum (the tree in the foreground) is still dormant, and the lilacs (the bushes to the right of the path) are just beginning to green up.

A month later, things are completely different. As you can see from the following photo, many of the grass seeds took hold, and grass has greened up nicely. The tree has leafed out. The lilacs grew more in the past month than they have the past couple of years. And the larkspur have pretty much invaded not just along the path where the grass died, but the whole rest of the garden, too. I had to wade through the larkspur to find some of the plants I put in last fall, such as lilies and chrysanthemums, and clear a space around them to give them room to grow.

This is a sideview of the garden. Look at all those larkspur! To think that all that came from the half dozen or so plants I transplanted from my neighbor’s yard (with his permission, of course). I thought they were a low-growing flower, because that’s how they grew in his unkempt yard, but apparently, when given a bit of care, larkspur grow to monstrous heights. Some of these stalks are shoulder height. And such a lovely sight.

In another month, things will be different again. The larkspur will be gone — after they go to seed I pull up the dead stalks, leaving plenty of room in the garden for the perennials to grow. If there are big spaces left behind in the garden, I plant other annual seeds, such as zinnias. And since I will be able to get to the dead grass, I’ll start clearing the way for replanting the grass this fall. Or I might even plant some zinnias there, too. Since I have not yet learned how to take a photo of something that will happen in the future, obviously, I can’t show you what the area will look like then, but I imagine, at least for a while, it will look very similar to the way it looked a month ago.

And then a month after that, it will all be different again. Because when it comes to gardening, a month makes a huge difference.

***

Posted in gardening, life. Tags: difference in a garden in a month, larkspur, larkspur invasion, planting a garden. 4 Comments »

Internet Restored!

May 18, 2023 — Pat Bertram

My internet has been restored. You’ll never guess what was wrong, so I’ll just go ahead and tell you — it was in a car accident. Yep. That’s right. A car accident.

Unlike most of my friends who have switched to a localized internet company that uses fiber optics, I still have the internet I started with. The cable is adequate for my needs — just about the only thing that might suffer a bit from the slower internet speed is the hidden object game I play, but even that’s not an issue since I’m getting a bit bored with it. Anyway, that doesn’t have anything to do with my outage except to explain how a car could destroy my internet connection — this company still has the green cable utility box in the alley, and apparently, someone ran into it and destroyed it.

Since I am the only one who was affected, it leads me to believe that most people on this block who have internet have gone with the fiber optic choice, but I intend to continue dealing with the original company, as annoying as they are. My rate is locked in for as long as I live here, and since I don’t intend to move until I’m dragged out, I figure that static price will be a good revenge for any problems. Not that I have many problems — this is the first real outage I’ve experienced in the past four years.

When they told me it would be a week before they could restore service, I panicked because I spend (waste) a lot of time on the internet, and I had no idea what I would do with all that extra time. As it turns out, it wasn’t a problem at all. I mowed my lawn, did some gardening, gave my house a good cleaning, read books, watched movies on DVDs friends had passed on to me that I never watched (I hadn’t watched a movie in years), did one of the paint-by-number pictures I’d been given as a gift, walked some, exercised some. And then suddenly, here I am, with the internet again.

When I was without service, I discovered that one of the reasons I was online so much was that I’d get bored and restless when I read too much, and it was just habit to go on the internet to play games or look up gardening information or whatever. So now I have other options. Well, I always had those other options, I just didn’t make use of them. Chances are, I’ll go back to my old habits, but for now, it’s nice to be offline most of the time.

***

Posted in gardening, internet, life. Tags: a week without internet, cable utility box, Internet outage, offline living, paint by number. 6 Comments »

Going Cold Turkey

May 12, 2023 — Pat Bertram

My internet went out yesterday. I didn’t worry because such things happen, especially in times of high winds, but when I wasn’t reconnected after an hour or so, I braved the labyrinth of the company’s automated phone system. Eventually I was transferred to a real person (at least I think she was) and after enduring multiple sessions of being put on hold, I was informed that it wasn’t an area problem but isolated to me. I didn’t even worry when she said that she’d schedule a service call, but when she gave me the day and time — sometime during the day next Wednesday, I panicked. Seven days without the internet? Not possible.

Well, it will be possible since there is no other choice, and I do have my phone, but still, I spend a LOT of time on the internet, playing games, researching, and various other things, and suddenly, all that time will need to be spent doing . . . who knows what. I already read too much, and because of the heavy rains we’ve been having, there isn’t much I can do outside unless I want to slip and slide in the mud.

I am sure I will be okay, it just takes a mental adjustment. After all, I spent most of my life without the internet, and I always found things to do. Of course, I was working full time, which filled most of my hours, so reading was a much-treasured luxury, not a way of life, and afterward, there were the years spent writing, but now? I guess I’ll find out if there is, in fact, life without the internet.

Luckily, I have things planned — working a couple of afternoons, taking my car in for a tune up, going to a farewell lunch for a friend who’s leaving the country for a year or two. When the ground dries a bit, I will
have a huge amount of weeding to do. And there are various projects I’ve been putting off that I can get finally get around to doing.

When I lost the connection, I was in the midst of trying to decide what seeds to buy to plant in my raised garden, which is supposed to be filled with soil next week. The internet going out seems to be a sign to wait on that purchase; after all, I’ve been through this before where a scheduled job was put off indefinitely. And if the garden is actually filled, well, I don’t suppose waiting a week to order the seeds will make much difference. And anyway, having an extra week to plan the garden isn’t a bad thing. It will give me something to think about while I am going cold turkey.

Posted in gardening, internet, life. Tags: being unconnected, living without the internet, planning a garden. 9 Comments »

Looking Good!

May 4, 2023 — Pat Bertram

Except for throwing out a few wildflower seeds between snowfalls this winter, I didn’t do anything for my garden. I wanted to see what of the perennials would come up again and what annuals would reseed themselves so that I wouldn’t plant over something I wanted. Not as many flowers as I expected came up again this year. In fact, as you can see, one of the areas in the bottom lefthand corner remains a blank slate. Oddly, that was one of the areas where the larkspur came up last year, but the larkspur garden moved a bit to the right. That wild growth along the path is where the grass died last year, and now I have a larkspur jungle. It should be gorgeous when the flowers bloom in another week or two, but seeing all those larkspurs was a bit of a surprise, to say the least.

I am grateful that the greensward to the right of the path is still doing well. Some people have mental health animals — I have a mental health lawn. I often stand at the back window and drink in the green. It makes me feel good, so it’s worth the effort to try to keep a lawn going.

Some of the grass that came back from near death last year is forming clumps and going to seed. Not attractive at all! It was just one of those flukes, I think. We had days of rain last week, which made the grass grow rapidly, and the ground was too wet to mow, so I got to see what would happen if I didn’t mow. Luckily, I enjoy mowing.

A nice surprise were the Siberian wallflowers. They were in a small package of wildflower seeds I’d planted three years ago, and not a single flower has ever bloomed. Well, this year, I have dozens of plants that are just coming into maturity. They are supposed to reseed themselves, which would be nice — I wouldn’t mind a swath of these cheerful little flowers.

The lilacs I planted when I first got here are growing fast now, and the blossoms are fully mature. Last year, I did get a lilac bunch or two, but they were scraggly.

It’s too soon to tell how anything else is doing. Well, the weeds, of course are doing well, and it won’t be long before I am unable to keep up with them. But for now, things are looking good!

***

Posted in gardening, life. Tags: larkspur, lawn going to seed, lilacs, plants reseeding themselves, Siberian wallflower. 4 Comments »

The Joy — and Heartbreak — of Gardening

April 17, 2023 — Pat Bertram

My yard is greening up nicely. The grass you see in the forefront of the photo is the grass I planted last fall after digging up the Bermuda grass that had taken over the area. The new grass survived the winter nicely. I was going to wait to see how the grass does in the unrelenting sun of summer before I planted more seeds, but I decided to go ahead and do some of the work now. The blue seed is where the old grass didn’t come back after dying off last summer. A lot of the lighter green is a larkspur invasion that took over where the grass along the path died. The larkspur will run its course in the next couple of months, so I’ll be able to plant more grass next fall.

I fretted about the lawn, not sure what to do about the grass that died, but since I often find myself standing at the back window looking out at the shimmering emerald of the lawn in front of the bench and feeling calm settle over me, I decided it was worth keeping up with the lawn as a mental health aid, if nothing else. At the worst, I’ll have to replant some of it every year for a while as well as digging up the invading Bermuda grass, but you never know — this seed might be as heat tolerant as it claims to be. Still, the sun in this corner of Colorado can be fierce, made even more searing by low humidity and high winds, so I won’t blame the grass if it has a hard time establishing itself along the path where it gets no shade. Oddly, even the plants that supposedly need to be grown in full sun do better around here with a bit of shade, perhaps because the shade keeps the moisture in the soil a bit longer.

Because of the volatile weather pattern this spring — temperatures ranging from the twenties to the nineties with almost daily high winds — most of my tulips are stunted. The exception is this small patch that is in the shade most of the time.

I am hoping that if I water the remaining tulips copiously on the very hot days they will still bloom, but I have no idea what will happen. It could be too late in the season for them to recover.

Gardening in this corner of Colorado is certainly a challenge, but I am learning, paying attention to what grows best and where, what need extra care, and what plants that don’t seem to want to thrive no matter what I do. Luckily, plenty of plants seem to like it here, which makes the whole project a joy. Heartbreaking at times, of course, but overall, a joy.

***

Posted in gardening, life. Tags: heat tolerant grass, lawn as a mental health aid, planting grass, plants and shade, plants and sun, tulips. 1 Comment »

Finally — Some Color!

April 13, 2023 — Pat Bertram

It’s taken a while, but it’s great to see a bit of color in my yard. I’m not sure if the other tulips will bloom — they don’t seem to like the ninety-degree weather we had, so I’m celebrating whatever beauty I find in my yard.

To paraphrase Shakespeare, though they be but few, they are beautiful!

***

Posted in gardening, life. Tags: first tulips, tulips. 7 Comments »

Thirteen Years

March 27, 2023 — Pat Bertram

I’d stopped writing about grief a while ago and hadn’t intended to write anything else on the subject, but today is the thirteenth anniversary of Jeff’s death, and I didn’t think the day should go uncommemorated. To be honest, I’m not sure why I feel this way. Although I still feel the jagged crack in my soul from where he was ripped from my life, it has been mostly filled with new memories, new experiences, new foci. Besides that, he has been gone so any years that I no longer feel as if I have a claim on his life. Or his death.

Still, both his life and his death affected me enormously. I would not be the person I am today without knowing both love and grief, though I’m not sure that matters — the part about me being the person I am today, that is. For all I know, if things had been different, I might have been a better person, though I could have been worse or simply different or perhaps even the same. We can never know what might have been. All I know is that when he died, my life was sent on a completely different trajectory, and I ended up living a life I could never have imagined when we were together.

I wonder sometimes if we met up today if he’d still like me, but that is a futile speculation. He is gone. He has as little claim to my life now as I have to his. And yet, I do miss him, and perhaps always will.

Shortly after he died, I met an old woman who told me she’d been married and widowed three times and that she still cried for all of her husbands, even though the first had been gone for decades, and the second and third for many years. I can’t imagine the courage it takes to love again after losing a much-loved spouse, nor can I imagine the courage it takes to deal with so much grief piled on grief.

But we all do the best we can to get through our days, and today, the best I can do is to think of Jeff.

And to remember.

***

Posted in grief, life. Tags: commemorating the death of a loved one, dealing with the loss of a soul mate, thirteen year anniversary of grief. 6 Comments »

Lessons Gardening Teaches

March 23, 2023 — Pat Bertram

Today was almost a repeat of yesterday. It wasn’t as warm, so I did errands in the morning instead of working outside, visited with a friend who stopped by, and then I picked up where I left off yesterday. Come to think of it, I started at the same time I finished yesterday, which is one of those tidbits that only interests me.

Before the clouds came and darkened the day, I managed to finish feeding and watering my lawn as well as water all the garden areas I didn’t get to yesterday. I visited with a neighbor, then came inside and collapsed.

We’re going into a slightly cooler time, which is good. I am sore and can use the respite.

Despite the hard work, it was fun being outside, and even more fun being able to show off all the plants that are starting to come in. Best of all, it gave me a chance to see the yard from a different perspective. I get so caught up with things that didn’t work out, such as the areas where the grass died, that I forget to look at what is there.

This is one of the lessons gardening teaches us — to see what is there today rather than what the yard was like in the past or what we hope the yard will look like in the future. In gardening, all we can work with is what exists in the present. We can try to recapture what we liked from previous years and can work for what we would like to see in the future, but that’s it. The rest is about what is here now. Of course, as with all lessons, what is taught and what is learned are two different things.

Another lesson I have yet to take to heart is that a garden is not just a work in progress but a work in flux. “Progress” connotes an unfinished project that can be finished. A garden is never finished and never can be. Things are in a constant flux, with seasonal plants coming and going, weeds sprouting and (hopefully) dying, bushes growing, perennials spreading, unknown seeds planting themselves. All sorts of things happen with or without the volition of the gardener, which makes it rather silly to get upset at anything that doesn’t perform the way we want. For example, I was upset last year that a large swath of my newly sodded lawn died from heat stress, but looking at the yard from a different perspective, I see that eventually my small lilac bushes will grow large and take over some of that would-be grassy area. But that won’t happen for several more years, so whatever the lesson I’m supposed to learn, I still reserve the right to be saddened by the demise of any of the green.

Still, the “flux” part of the lesson remains. Things will be changing rapidly in the next few weeks, and all that change will come even before I can plant any flower seeds or vegetable plants. (Around here, May 5th is the earliest date for safe planting. Until then, there will be grass greening up, tulips growing, lilacs blooming, and all sorts of other visual treats to be enjoyed.

Which brings me to perhaps the most important lesson to be learned from gardening: enjoy whatever the day brings. That is one lesson I am taking to heart. Or trying to, anyway.

***

Posted in gardening, life. Tags: enjoy whatever the day brings, enjoying a garden, garden as a work in progress, garden as work in flux, gardens are always changing, lawn care, seeing a garden from a different perspective. 5 Comments »

Perfect Morning for Working Outside

March 22, 2023 — Pat Bertram

This was a perfect morning for working outside, so I did — work outside, that is. I got a lot accomplished, too.

I started columbine seedlings — planted them in cardboard egg containers and then stashed them in a zippered plastic bag for a makeshift greenhouse. I’ve always liked columbines, but so far, haven’t had any luck with the seeds planted directly in the ground, so I’m hoping starting the seeds early will work.

I planned to get a head start on weeding, but as with previous years, I’m having a hard time figuring out which of the seedlings in the garden are weeds and which are self-seeded flowers, so I’ll have to wait on weeding a bit longer. As time goes on, I’m sure, I’ll get more familiar with the various seedlings, so I’ll be able to get rid of the weeds before they take hol

I watered my tulip bulbs and was pleased to see they are doing well. Oddly, even bulbs I planted when I first moved here that never bothered to come up are showing signs of life. Some of them are in the middle of my lawn, left over from an early attempt to start a bulb garden. Last year when a tulip came up in the middle of my grass it bothered me because the green expanse was so beautiful, but this year, I’m glad of any green that shows up. Well, any green except weeds and Bermuda grass. To be honest, I wouldn’t even mind the Bermuda grass, but it takes over, and I don’t like aggressiveness in plants. Or in people, for that matter.

For a fun chore, I set out some of the figurines for my fairy and gnome garden. I do get a kick out of seeing those miniature scenes as I wander around my yard or work in the garden.

Lastly, I fed and watered my lawn. Well, half my lawn. The lawn food sprayer that was supposed to attach to the hose didn’t work, so I had to use watering cans, which was rather labor intensive. Still, I got the saddest looking parts of the yard off to a good start. Some of the grass that died last year is coming back. Some isn’t. Interestingly, larkspur seeds are taking hold in the worst of the dead patches of sod, so I’ll have growth of some kind, anyway. I’m waiting to see how the grass I planted last fall deals with the summer heat. It made it through the winter, which was the first hurdle. If it makes it through the summer, then next fall I’ll dig up the dead grass as well as the places where the Bermuda grass took over, and gradually build up the lawn again. That’s the plan anyway.

Even though I was tired, I’d considered finishing the feeding and watering, but luckily, the wind came up. Normally wind is not my friend, but it was a good reminder not to overdo my first time out.

With any luck, spring will continue to be good to me and there will be many more perfect mornings for working outside.

***