What A Difference A Month Makes

This is the bed closest to the house, taken last month, just about the time I regret not keeping notes about what might pop up in various spots.
That also accounts for all the poppies I've ripped out mistaking them for weeds.

Now we are a bursting with bloom and I'm slowly making inroads on the weeds.
I'm waiting for the forget-me-nots to finish blooming and then, by golly I'll do some serious thinning.
And not a minute sooner.
In the meantime I'll just admire it from the porch swing.

It's Garden tour Time

Our first garden tour this year was a half-hour drive away in Paris,Ontario.
These owners, a husband and wife took a landscaping course and obviously excelled.
They recycle wherever possible, using old branches as tepees for beans and other vines and the place abounds with strategically placed composters.
Paris is a higglety- pigglety kind of town and this spot is upper-mobility higglety, overlooking the the pigglety section of town far below.
The difference is that this area doesn't feature any factories in a town where zoning laws seem a bit erratic.

I love water sounds in a garden and this was one of theirs.

this is a gorgeous stone cottage build well over a hundred years ago. the stonework is meticulous and the present owner wisely kept her landscaping simple to enhance the look, using splashes of red and a lot of evergreens.
Think about it--these people have slaved to prepare for their part of Garden Tour Day; every weed is banished, out comes the double thick layers of mulch,the grass is cut that cross-hatch way, so it looks extra manicured.
God bless the achievers who bring so much pleasure to the rest of us garden lovers. While I'm out admiring what they've done, my garden can simply schlep along, getting a tweak here and there, but perfection it will never achieve.
The smartest thing we did was bring the GPS along; not once did we grind our teeth because of faulty hand-drawn maps.
Another tour tomorrow; This is feeling like a kid anticipating Christmas.

Garden Visitor

Look who came to dinner.
She considered the seeds a good nosh and then she flew home, which luckily isn't located in my little paradise.
I mean, there'd be Mr. Mallard and the kids and this place doesn't come equipped with a lake.
Don't be a stranger, sweet cakes--but next time, phone ahead.