
YOUR GUIDE TO THE TWIN CITIES

As gardeners, I think we’re often more in touch with the nuances of the seasons than most people. For instance, I welcomed the rain this past weekend. It means I can actually dig in the dirt to plant those shrubs I bought weeks (okay, months) ago and just hadn’t gotten in yet. A week ago, I tried to plant them and the point of the shovel bounced off the surface of the dirt like it was concrete. It was still summer then.
Another way I know it’s fall is when I start making plans for what I will and won’t do next year. Next year, I will put up super tall deer fencing, instead of just regular fence around the garden. Next year, I won’t grow so many different kinds of tomatoes. Next year, I will get my potatoes planted early. Next year, I won’t bother with those gold pea pods that didn’t taste so good.
How about you? What’s your mental picture of what that magical “next year” will look like in your garden? And are there markers or touchstones of how you know when it is really fall?
I’m planting more pepper plants and less carrots. I found a pepper plant this year that has much smaller peppers that turn red–we’ve had about 15 of them so far instead of the usual 1 or 2 from a “regular” pepper plant. Yum.
Ha! It’s been fall for a while — for me, anyways. For weeks I’ve been talking about all things I’m going to do in my garden NEXT SPRING.
I’m going to divide the sedums, transplant the grasses, move all prairie smoke to the boulevard . . . the list just goes on and on.
I just ordered bulbs for next year….fall can’t be too far away! I am super excited about a bunch of Lilium regale and asiatic lilies I ordered, as well as an odd fritillary. As usual, I am ordering crocus, which I hope will come up and bloom at the same time as some Iris reticulata I ordered. And thanks to Connie’s plug for species tulips, I’m getting a clusiana variety.
I had planned to take down my spent, towering cosmos, and some tomato plants but wimped out with the rain. Fall has truly arrived when I clean up the garden and plant bulbs.
Judy and others — do you pull out tomato plants even if they are still producing a bit? Or wait?
I only pull the plants that have nothing left to offer (no fruit) before the killing frost. It seems the longer I leave the stuff on the vines the closer to vine ripened it tastes. This sometimes makes me guilty of springtime garden cleanup as I miscalculate and stuff freezes in (stuff like cabbages and leaf lettuce).
It’s a bit of guess, isn’t it? I like to get all my annuals out of the garden before they turn to mush, but predicting when that’ll happen is impossible.
I kinda think we’ll have an early cold snap. Based on nothing but my gut, I predict a hard freeze (less than 32 degrees) before Oct. 1. Anyone want to take that bet?
Next year is going to be all about the front of the house… the past two summers have been focused on the back patio and side garden. By next fall, I don’t want to be horrified by overgrown bushes and weeds every time I venture to the front yard!
[…] Originally published by Greengirls […]
Go for it, LauraC.
We ripped out a bunch of overgrown shrubs in the front of our house. It was a pain in the neck to replant in all the darn “landscaping rock” the previous owners put around the house, but the new shrubs look soooo much better.
I know it’s fall when… I walk past my garden, see foot-tall weeds, and shrug my shoulders.
Ha! That’s perfect, Twin Mom!
I do a lot of waving my arms about and saying things like: “Next year, this will all be different.”
This old poem always winds through my head this time of year:
Asters deep purple,
A sky that is blue.
A forest of green with the sun peeking through
Road like brown ribbon;
A grasshopper’s call;
Today it is summer -
Tomorrow is fall.
That’s perfect, Anneesha. Do you know who wrote it?
Robyn - I really have no idea who wrote that poem but my mother would be tickled to know it’s stuck with me for 40 years!? Hope someone can identify the author.
(Makes you want to take a drive in the country, doesn’t it?)
Next year I will finally kill the purple coneflower I bought at Walmart a year ago, that is clearly a genetic defect. It has never grown over a foot tall, and just gets weird looking buds growing on top of buds growing on top of buds. I think it’s stunted, deformed, something! How on earth does that happen?
Robyn, I pull the tomatoes after they aren’t producing anymore, and usually after the first frost. This year, if my busy social schedule allows, I’m pulling them before the frost!
I can usually tell it’s fall when beer isn’t as refreshing. Once I’ve switched to Crown Royal, fall is here.
Ok, I’ve got another poem about the end of summer:
And so the spring buds burst.
And so I gaze.
And so they fall.
And so my days.
Connie and Laura C. I, too, ripped out old overgrown shrubs that were planted in 6 inches of river rock. What a chore! Replanted in the area with boxwood (Green Velvet), shrub roses (Sir Thomas Lipton), asters, (Professor Kiplingberg, a variety of sun tolerant hosta, and a lot of mulch. Looks a little skimpy now, but will be MUCH better than the old ugly stuff that was there.
Auntie K, it’s been hard for me to get used to how bare the front of my house looks since I ripped out that wildly overgrown yew and planted 6 tiny weigelas, but I’m coming around. I know it looks much tidier (all my neighbors tell me so) even if it does look a little, well, undergrown. . . .
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