Tiptoe through my tulips.

Look at how my little garden grows!


Tulips and daffodils are new to the garden, thanks to a generous gift of bulbs from a former colleague (thanks, Pat!). I wasn't sure how they would do, especially given those little pesky squirrels who seem to enjoy my garden even more than I do. But I'm quite happy with the colorful results.




My other spring blooms made their appearance as the tulips started to fade.




Even the pansies I planted in the fall (that spent most of the winter buried under some 71" of snow) are blooming.

One of my neighbors says I have magical soil. Maybe I do.

Speaking of tiptoeing through the tulips, I've started to play ukulele. Not a typo. I bought myself a uke for my birthday a couple of months ago and a lovely young man (dude?) is attempting to teach me to play. Tonight's my second to last lesson. Maybe I'll make my performance debut on the blog.

But not just yet. My ukulele playing isn't nearly as magical as my soil.

Hope springs eternal. In the form of crocus.

For some reason, I insisted on ordering crocus bulbs this past fall. Maybe I had a inkling of what a LONG (emhasis on LONG) winter it would be, and how welcome their colorful little buds would be when the ground finally thawed.

I was so excited to wake up to the first of the crop this weekend.

Since spring was kind of, sort of in the air (or at least poking out of the front yard ground) I decided to head over to L.B. Forcellati & Sons in Wall, NJ -- a nursery and garden center with one incredible greenhouse. It's the perfect place to visit when you need a little sunshine and warmth in the middle of the cold season. My friends and I think they should set up tables and serve high tea. Just to us.

The orchids were amazing. I was definitely starting to feel spring was indeed in the air.

This bird of paradise plant had a sold sticker on it, and I'm dying to know where it's heading. Somewhere fancy for sure (maybe another greenhouse), since I can't imagine this plant handling the frosty Garden State winters.

And don't get me started about how much I wish one of these Meyer lemon trees could come home with me. And I wish you had smell-o-vision right now, because these little trees smelled fabulous.

I walked out feeling ready to take on the world! Until I realized I still had my ankle length parka, hat and gloves on. What do you do to get through the last days of winter? (Other than scream, which is something I'm strongly considering this year.)

Hanna, how could you?

So I leave town to work for the weekend, and come home to find out Hanna stopped by (uninvited, I may add).




Granted, we really only got hit with bucket loads of rain, so it could have been a whole, WHOLE lot worse. Unfortunately, the event I was working on was outdoors, so I got to spend some up close and personal time with that bit--, er, lady myself.

Once home, I assessed the damage and tied up the plants as best I could. I noticed the corn cobs were....missing! Most of them, in fact. Had they blown away in the storm? Had someone (gasp!) stolen them?

I looked around and found the answer.

Freakin' squirrels.

Even the ears still on the stalks look a little picked over.

In fairness, I didn't actually *see* the squirrels, so I shouldn't blame them. Could be raccoons, or opossums, but whomever did it is on my you-know-what list.

Well, at least the corn stalks looked kind of cool in front of the house. It's almost time to cut them and let them dry out to create a festive fall display for the porch. Thankfully the man doesn't read this blog or that last sentence may freak him out ("You're going to do what with the corn stalks on our porch?!").

There is one giant beauty (about 9') that was just starting to bloom Monday morning. I'll be back at the house Wednesday night to see how she's held up.

As for some of the sunflowers that couldn't be saved, I decided to make a festive bouquet to cheer myself up.

I have a lot to catch up on. While I was on blog sabbatical, hundreds of unread blog posts queued up in my Google Reader archives, and one of my favorite bloggers even announced she was expecting a new little blogger (congrats, Courtney! :-). Thank you to ALL of the amazing folks who stopped here from The Inspired Room's Fall Nesting Party. Many of you were new to me so it's been great to see your blogs, too, and to read your thoughtful comments. Mahalo.

I've picked up some super cool little bargains over the past couple of weeks (the thrifty gods have finally smiled on me!) so I'll be sure to post them over the next week.

Germinating

For the first time, I'm taking a crack at planting seeds. Actually, strike that: My first and only other attempt was when I was 6-years-old and Mrs. Biscoglio, my Brownie troop leader, had us plant seeds in egg cartons for our moms. I don't think mom actually got to see the fruits (or, flowers) of my labor. I’m pretty sure my carton garden yielded nada -- and if I'm not mistaken, drew carpenter ants to our kitchen windowsill.

We had a seriously cold spring here that catapulted immediately into an unbearably warm and humid summer, so I couldn’t even plant my seeds until a couple of weeks ago. And now I fear the blazing hot sun will dry roast my sunflower seeds. I should add a little salt so at least the squirrels will have a yummy snack.

Along with sunflowers and morning glories, I’m planting (or attempting to plant) corn. Kind of just for the shock value. I think it will be a hoot and a half if corn stalks start to sprout out inches from the street. (“Honey, stop the car! Is that corn growing out of the sidewalk crack?!”) I’ve mentioned before that the houses here are built practically on top of each other, likely because back in the day our town was strictly summer residences so I’m sure the “no fuss, no muss” factor was in effect, as was the lets-see-how-many-city-folk-we-can-jam-together factor.

I really want a garden, so I’ve worked our micro-acreage for all it's worth, planting a smorgasbord of perennials in the tiny space between our porch and sidewalk and complementing that with containers wherever I could fit. As for the seed projects, I’m most excited by the sunflowers, which are showing signs of progress:


Isn’t it cute how the sproutlings have little seed helmets?!


(What can I say. I’m a city girl, so these small miracles of nature shock and delight me as if I were that 6-year-old again, back in my Peter-Pan-collared Brownie uniform eagerly watching my egg carton. Waiting. And waiting.)

Some of the other stuff I may have accidentally pulled up. I thought they were weeds. Oops. But I’ve IDd what I think is corn, so I’m going to try to resist my Type-A urge to yank the rest of little green weed-like objects out of the ground. And since I’m not exactly holding my breath for a bumper crop of blooms, I bought sunflowers at the Asbury Park Farmer’s Market on Saturday and put them in my fancy new sap bucket:




Ahhh…Instant gratification!

To Julie Newmar, Thanks for Everything! Laura

Julie Newmar in Cottage Living magazine?

I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me. That happens sometimes when I decide to flip through my shelter mags at, like, 2 a.m. But not this time; there she was. Looking all sassy and nonchalant perched in her garden.

Photo by Marion Brenner for Cottage Living, July/August 2008

How deliciously enjoyable.

And not for nothing, the Catwoman’s got a heckuva garden. The photos are stunning, and the magazine (July/August issue) even has a detailed sketch of her garden’s layout (page 78).

We have a plot of land the size of a postage stamp (it’s very Jersey Shore to have homes thisclose to each other) so I’ve started a file of photos of interesting container gardens like Julie's:

Photo by Marion Brenner for Cottage Living, July/August 2008

And, hello: As if all of this isn’t fabulous enough, my favorite feline lady has a rose named after her! The Julie Newmar Hybrid Tea Rose. (There is a fantastic photo of her with a big fat bouquet of Julie Newmars online here.)

Photo by Marion Brenner for Cottage Living, July/August 2008

It's simply purrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrfect. (Sorry. I couldn't resist.)

Photo from Julie Newmar's web site.