The Land of Misfit Plants

We have reached the Why Do We Even Live HERE portion of the winter season.  It's been raining, raining, raining.  When I started writing this the sky was battling it out amongst itself: one minute sun, one minute snow.  Now it's the next day and it's a balmy 31 degrees at mid-day.

Evidence to the contrary, it's been unseasonably warm this winter and no snow to speak of, really.  This disappoints me greatly; even though I don't get snow days as long as I work from home.  But I want to take photos.  The little park where I take Lucy would be gorgeous in the snow.  

Sunday was finally a nice day, although a little chilly.  I had been itching to work in the garden but the cold, rain, waning motivation, work, and other projects kept my attention away. But looking at the forecast, it seemed this was my only opportunity.  I bundled up and went out the garden.  

Even though I *knew* that I knew the answer, I asked the google about trimming hydrangeas.  As I remembered, the google said "Um, like, NOW."

I had a HUGE hydrangea bush in the corner of the garden by the drive but it took over everything.  One day my father-in-law, after months of threatening, dug it up and planted it at the top of the hill.  Now it's growing and happy on the clay hill part of the garden.  It is an area that is undefined other than "eff it, I'm throwing these plants up there."  There are two boxwoods that I had to move from a corner garden because someone who is 32 lbs and furry likes to dig in that garden.  There are two awkwardly, not really planted but more set on the ground, alyssum that wouldn't take in pots because reasons.  There is a red plant that I saw in the grocery store parking lot that I thought was pretty.  Yeah, it's SUPER THORNY.  So it is up on the Hill of Misfit Plants.

Last summer is when it occurred to me that the hydrangeas grow exponentially, whether or not you want them to.  So I've added little clusters around the hill over time.  The plan is to just let the hydrangea take over that hill because I can't get anything else to grow up there.  Maybe they will cascade down and I can keep them trimmed like our homestead monster rhododendron.  

But I discovered that the branches already had some new growth and buds.  Sigh.  I hate trimming/killing living things. Hate it.  That's why the butterfly bush is out of control.  I turned off the anthropomorphic part of my brain and started clipping away.  I tossed all the clippings on the ground, further down the hill, in hopes that some of them will take in a few months.  

To assuage my guilt about trimming living things, I took those stalks and stuck them in the ground in a line like soldiers, midway between the bushes and the clippings.  Now we wait.  Worse case only a few take root.  Well, no, worse case is that they all take root.

Last summer I trimmed back aforementioned butterfly bush and tossed most of the trimmings over the embankment to the lower part of the property.  Out of curiosity, I took a few branches and plunked them into the ground up by the rock cascade that I built.  To my surprise, one of them took.  The others are borderline and I won't know until spring if they're going to live.  

So then I looked around and made another happy discovery. I had also planted two large branches of the evergreen shrub that we have.  This one bothers Kevin because it - brace yourself - reaches over the brick wall. THE HORROR.  I planted it in a weird area by the fence, telephone pole, and an old cedar stump.  It took as well.  This will maybe make trimming a little easier for me; knowing I can plant the clippings elsewhere.

Finally, we have a monkey puzzle tree.  When it was planted, it wasn't quite a foot tall.  Now it's almost fifteen feet.  And branching (ha! pun!) out.  This presents a challenge because monkey puzzle trees are -as I quote Kevin: fuckers.  They are SHARP.  S.H.A.R.P.  Scratch you, puncture your skin, sharp.  But they are so cool.  

That being said, I had on leather gloves so I was able to touch the damn tree. I trimmed off three branches that threaten us as we walk by it and plunked them into the garden and the Hill of Misfit Plants.  Because I'm impulsive, I did not think this through.  I huffed out laughing when this caught my eye out of the window.  And yes, I am a twelve-year-old boy.

But because of the possible snow and definite colder temperatures, I haven't raked away any leaves and deadloss.  I want to leave it as a little extra insulation for now.  This is making me a little squinty but I have to leave it.  Also, even though weeds are growing, it's way too wet to pull them.  And yes: weeds in the winter months. That's how unseasonable our winter has been.

There are daffodils and irises coming up. What I think are tulips (?) are coming up.  The miniature roses are making a comeback already, and the rhododendrons are budding.  I am stuck between wanting snow and not wanting snow now. 

Finally, another happy thing.  I had been stacking rocks on this big boulder that is randomly placed on the hill, outside of the garden.  It looks like our non-family neighbors have added to it.