Each Little World

Potted and pleased

I have a lot of lovely pots in my garden but I rarely fill them with plants. For a few years I put a big pair on the deck on either side of our British bench. Each one held a boxwood; then I swiped that for a big blue Hosta in each. But this year, I somehow seem to have filled at least a dozen pots with plants. Some were intentional and some happenstance. Initially I fell for a number of Begonias and wanted a way to display them for the summer. 

A pair of large wood fired stoneware pots are on opposite sides of the path in the area with most of my flowering plants. Each features a Begonia and a deeply colored Geranium. 

I was thinking of these plants as annuals and did not save most tags. This one is getting more sun than it wants and is showing some leaf burn. 

I grabbed this one at a nursery recently to pop into a hole before a tour. Once the tour groups left, I moved it to the deck. 

The flowers were lovely waving in the wind. But it's the stems that are the noteworthy part of this plant.

I needed a home for my last Begonia; a silvery leaved variety. I put it in a big pot with a number of plants that were so crowded elsewhere in the garden that I pulled them out and added them to the pot. i am particularly pleased with the Begonia/Hosta color combo.

The plants that wouldn't fit got pots of their own. Note that I used native Penn Sedge as a filler/mulch throughout this big pot. 

Herbs are on the nearby steps. 

I used little pieces of tree bark as mulch. I kept finding it on the ground after windy days and decided to see how it would work in small pots.  

I often put a shrub in a pot until I find time — and the right location — to plant it. This is Thuja orientalis 'Franky Boy.'

This one has white shells and flat stones used as mulch.

I saw Gladiolus murielae in a friend's garden last summer and fell in love with the flowers. I put my two pots of bulbs up on bricks which has deterred critters from digging in them — at least so far. 

I decided my Buttonbush (Cephalanthus occidentalis 'Sugar Shack') was not happy where I planted it last year. So I put it in this big pot while I decide on its new home. I was hoping it would provide a bit of shade to the nearby plants as the Pagoda Dogwood that sheltered them died. 

I pick up the biggest pine cones and save them to use as decorative mulch in pots where they are visible. 

There are always pine cones on the paths and in the beds in my garden so I set out a pot where I can collect them when I find them. I just added a second pot for sticks and weeds. That way I don't have to keep taking debris down to my work area every time I pick something up. The pot of weedy bits may not be the most attractive container but I am thrilled with what a step-saver it is. I'm also amazed at how quickly I keep filling it up.

I'm not sure whether all these pots mean I am about to become a container gardener, but I've been having fun. They're mostly in two locations so it hasn't even been a big task keeping them watered. All the pots, except for the ones made of terracotta, are wood-fired stoneware by Mark Skudlarek of Cambridge, WI.

Vases and vases

This spring seems to be rushing by faster than in recent years. Every time I look around something has burst into bloom and something else has disappeared. I've been cutting flowers and plopping them into vases like mad. The best way for me to enjoy the bounty of my garden at the moment is indoors. I have enough daffodils that I can pick a lot of them without it being obvious. The Tulips grow in the Traffic Island bed in the street. Since it will disappear when the street is redone, it made sense to bring them indoors while I still can. 

No ids on these images. Just pretty flowers to enjoy.

Variation on the above theme.

A small offering in the Tea House.

IVOM: The end and the beginning

Last week it rained on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday. Then it started to snow on Friday. Saturday and Sunday, the overnight lows went down to 17°F.

I went out yesterday afternoon to see if there were any flowers to bring indoors. The first bloom I came across was a small dried Hydrangea arborescens flower that had flown over the fence from my east side neighbor. The shrub it came from is actually one that had been growing on my side of the fence and travelled underneath into their garden. I dug mine out years ago, so it was rather fun to get one of the flowers. 

I clipped a frond of an autumn fern to join it in a tiny wood-fired vase by Tony Gebauer of Door County. The raku vase is by the late Wisconsin artist John Natale. 

My earliest snowdrops (Galanthus varieties) were fallen over or closed up again. I decided to pick a few in hopes they'd open and perk up indoors. Voila!

The ones with green tips are G. nivalis viridapice. The ones spread wide open are G. 'Magnet', the rest are likely G. plicatus 'Dionysus'.

My grandmother's tiny Chinese cloisonné vase is the perfect container for them. 

IVOM: Something old

I noticed a group of Sedum flower heads glowing in the late winter sunshine when I was walking in the garden before last week's snow. I clipped a few stems and put them into the vase that had been standing in solitary glory on the dining room table. 

More and more I'm drawn to vases that look as beautiful empty as when filled with flowers. This one by ceramic artist Delores Fortuna is a perfect example. 

Every side is different, giving one a multitude of display options. The color and sparseness of seed heads and dried flower heads that are still standing at the end of winter make then ideal companions for this container. The vase is 11 and 1/2 inches high and the disc-like collar at the top is 7 inches in diameter. 

I'm hoping this week's warm weather will give me some early blooms from my garden for next week's container. I am so ready to be able to play in the garden again.

A little Halloween spirit

My youngest sister, who is an artist, gave us this little ceramic "studio god" many years ago. Rather than guarding our creative work areas, we put him in this empty space next to the back door of our house to watch over our entire residence. 

Once upon a time, there was some kind of walkie-talkie by the front and back doors, but only the space remains. Locust leaves, caught in cobwebs, perfectly define this as an end of October moment. 

. . .

My sister, Pat, currently makes beautiful silver jewelry based on medieval chain mail. 

March in black and white

Late last week the weather was so beautiful I began a little light cleanup in the garden. Hellebores, like H. 'New York Night, were sending up big fat buds, snowdrops were blooming in white clumps and it seemed like spring might really have arrived.

But it is March in the Midwest, so snow immediately followed the first flowers on Monday.

It came down wet and heavy, but there's not enough of it to last. The roads were clear by mid-morning Tuesday, so we drove out to our favorite gallery to look at a group of new tea bowls by one of our favorite potters, Bill Farrell. 

We have serving dishes, large containers and many tea bowls by Bill. We have enough of his work that we really didn't need any more. But these are raku, unlike all of our other pieces by him which are wood-fired stoneware. They were too lovely to resist; a fact we were fairly sure of before we even left the house. 

By the time we got home from the gallery in mid-afternoon the view out the window showed the snow was melting on all the stonework in the garden, nicely re-iterating the tones and marks of Bill's bowls inside the house. 

Rain is predicted for much of next week, which will get rid of the snow and send the spring bloomers above ground for sure.

Covidian decor

At the beginning of May I decided if we were going to be spending more time at home I wanted to make the space look and feel fresh. So one day while Mark was in the country shooting photos, I rearranged the living room furniture. I put the couch perpendicular to the big window wall so I could enjoy views of the garden all summer. It had been parallel to that wall and facing the fireplace. I rolled up the rug that is usually under our glass topped coffee table to make the space feel even airier.

When Mark came home, he approved of the changes but said it was his turn now. He would replace the art on the wall that his reading chair faces and redo the tabletop display in front of that same wall. He printed three of the scenes from his day in the country, popped them into frames and put them on the wall. 

Then he set up a display of our collection of tea pots, most of which are rarely all out at the same time.

Though teapots are one of the most inventive forms potters create, we've limited ourselves to this small grouping.

An antique Japanese version in iron with a bronze lid, that caught Mark's eye, is last addition to our little group.

The first teapot I ever bought, back in the 1980s, at the Potter's Wheel gallery in Door County. The artist is Polly Whitcomb.

This one is by Bill Farrell of Galena, Illinois. Bill is one of our favorite artists; we have quite a number of his works from tea bowls to sculptural containers.

This beautiful example is by Tony Gebauer of TR Pottery in Fish Creek, Door County, Wisconsin. 

A raku pot, also from a gallery in Door Country, by Lou Ann Lewis.

A pot that pours perfectly by Mark Skudlarek of Cambridge Woodfired Pottery outside of Madison. We own untold numbers of useful and beautiful items made by Mark. All but one or two of the big pots in our garden are also his work. 

This porcelain charmer is by Dolores Fortuna of Galena, who currently shows her work at Abel Contemporary Gallery in Stoughton. We bought this one on a visit to Dolores' studio. It did not yet have a handle and she offered us a number of options. We could not resist the idea of a teapot with a barbed wire grip. 

This weekend we are going to repaint our bedroom from deep yellow ochre to a shade of gray. All the art will be replaced. Mark's large, gilt framed abstract painting from his college days will move from the bedroom to the wall behind the teapots. So this space is due to change again as well. 

Daylily season

If my Martagon lilies were a disappointment this year, the daylilies are not. Then again, in the Upper Midwest daylilies are stalwarts that never disappoint the gardener. 

Hemerocallis 'Little Rainbow'

I bought H. 'Petite Sioux' in 1990 at the local Daylily Society's annual sale when I was a member. I've never seen it offered anywhere else in all these years. My first garden was small, so I became enamored of these more petite varies. Still love them.

H. 'Red Magic' 

This pairing enhances the tones of the Tea House and, since they are smaller flowers and plants overall, they don't overwhelm Mark Skudlarek's big pot. 

A vase on Monday — and its neighbors

I have not posted any flower-filled vases for a long time and I expect it will be almost a month before I hope to see anything growing in my garden. That doesn't mean the house is devoid of growing plants. I have a pair of pale pink Orchids on the bathroom vanity, a holiday Cyclamen by my reading chair and a Boston fern with fronds that are almost touching the floor near Mark's nook. 

But I have always been a fan of vases that make a statement even when they are not holding a bouquet. This is a ceramic piece, about 10 inches tall, that I bought when my favorite consignment shop was closing last autumn. That green glaze with a hint of slate blue has long been a favorite of mine. Plus I liked the way the unglazed area swooped around the sides like long wings.

When I bought this vase I knew right where I was going to put it — and it wasn't in storage. Its color beautifully echoes the glaze on my antique Chinese headrest. 

The headrest itself has been the perfect spot to display this bejeweled evening bag — a bouquet that never needs watering. 

Just before the tour: The water gardens

The Tea House sits above the west end of the big pond.

The loss of the big Japanese maple that was at the back edge of the pond has allowed more sun to reach the water — and thus we have more lilies. 

All of our water lilies are hardy and either white or yellow flowered. 

The upper pool nestles next to the Tea House. 

By this point in the summer it is filled with the flowers and foliage of Sagitaria latifolia. 

A stepping stone path crosses between the upper pool and the beginning of the stream and waterfalls. 

The path across the water links the Sacred Grove and the Tea House gardens. 

The stones are wet because birds stand between them and drink, wash and generally splash about. 

Mark and Jon Adams-Kollitz, the young man who helped him build the ponds and stream, worked hard to achieve the perfect sound of rushing, bubbling water. 

This area has always been a planting problem since you need to walk here as you step off the path across the stream. I planted this combo of ground covers last summer and it is the first grouping that has not only survived but thrived. 

This area still has some of its earliest plantings I made in the garden, though many others have come and gone over the years.