Never Can Say Goodbye

As I write, there is snain coming down, kind of a sloppy mix of snow and rain, too big to be rain and too wet to be snow. Snain. Chet Baker talks about sneet but I've never seen it. It's 40, going for the mid-30's tonight, and I really don't like it much. What I like is autumn. And summer. 

So what I do is dig summer up and cram it into my little greenhouse. It's the hardest working 64 square feet in Ohio.

The red center support pole is new. The greenhouse had a sag in its spine. The floorjack fixed it. Tools told me what to get. This is the east corner.

 Bill's ancient crown of thorns is in the east corner. I keep trying to cut it back and it has never once stopped blooming since I took it from his office. It's as if it thinks it'll get its multiple heads cut off if it ever stops blooming. I kind of like it tall and lanky, like an ocotillo. It can stay.

 Here's the west corner. Mmm. Looking floriferous.

I absolutely adore Salvia greggii "Desert Blaze." It has such an airy, icy look about it with those white-edged leaves. I know it would die over the winter, being a tender plant to start with. Add variegation and you have a really tender plant. Can't let that happen. Dug two up, brought them in.

I tried something this fall that I've never done. I brought my tuberoses inside. The only reason I did it is that there were about 10 plants just starting to bloom in late October! I think it was the cool, rainy summer we had. I planted them in April, but the plants just kind of lolled around in the wet soil, enjoying making more and more leaves, and they remembered why I planted them a bit too late to make good on their promise to get it done before frost. 

It was really too cold at night for them to put out much in the way of fragrance. What a waste! So I dug them up. Plopped them in planters and put them in the cart and brought them in. 

Now that was a fine sight, tuberoses going to their reward...another month of summer!

The heat of the greenhouse brings out the most exquisite fragrance, and it absolutely fills the little room with heaven when night falls.

They're delighted to keep growing and blooming. I'll have a month more of fragrance and beauty.

Some are still in spike! My darling you will never know 20 degrees.

Joining the tuberoses is my night-blooming jessamine, Cestrum nocturnum. Another jewel of the Solanaceae, or nightshade family. What a family. Potatoes, tomatoes, eggplant, tomatillos, Cestrum, to name just a few.

The New Guinea impatiens is so happy to come in out of the cold and unfurl its blazing perfect orange blossoms in welcome heat.

As is the mammilaria cactus, which has bloomed for me for 22 years.

And you have to love a mandevilla that's such a bright red it boggles the camera.

Color. Blazes and bushels of color. That's how we fight old man Winter here on Indigo Hill.

The Greenhouse, Occupied

It's just a whole 'nother thing, looking at this house all red and cornsilk yellow. I love it. I love the way it looks against the sky and the landscape. Forest green turns out to be a great accent color (along with cobalt blue) for the red. So the greenhouse, which was already pretty groovy-looking, looks even groovier now.

While the Big Sit was going on, I grabbed Tools, who didn't mind being pulled away from birdwatching. His favorite bird is a fast-rising ring-necked pheasant, anyway. I asked him to come down and look at the sagging roofline on the greenhouse. He recommended a support pole, a floorjack if you will, and even texted me a photo of it from our local Lowe's. My personal tool/gizmo shopper. It's a 7'0" - 7' 4" adjustable pole. You put it in place and crank it up until it's bearing some weight.

I didn't even know there was such a thing as a floorjack. That's what Tools is for. That, giant concrete drills, and decoration.

He arrived at the Big Sit like Knight Rider in a new graphite-gray Corvette, which was most unfortunate, because we had to look at that car all day long, sitting in our driveway, totally outclassing every other vehicle that arrived. It was harrible.

The manifestation of the floorjack. It's smack in the middle of the floorspace, which is taking some getting used to, but the greenhouse no longer looks swaybacked, like an elderly horse. And I like the color!

Now that's a nice topline. Much better. I'm also diggin' the ketchup and mustard color scheme of the house. Bill pointed that out. At first I was most chagrined, then embraced it.

 Inside, Salivia greggii "Desert Blaze" is blooming like mad! It survived transplanting and repotting without even so much as a shrug or dropped leaf. May it keep going. I'd love to carry it over the winter, since I'd been looking for it for about a decade without success, and found it at a farmer's market in Brunswick, Maine this summer.
This is one of my favorite plants, an icy bright variegation on a theme. In the foreground is a small red mandevilla that just had to come in when it got nippy. And the beautiful lacy-leaved vine in the corner is pink jasmine. I cannot wait until it blooms. It grew and grew all summer with nary a blossom. I think I see tiny buds...mmmm.

Geraniums "Frank Headley" and "Happy Thought Pink."

I keep trying to get a shot of the golden arbor vitae that does it justice. I'll have to wait for sun.

Every once in a great while, there is sun.

And when there is I scat up to the towertop to have a look-see. For those who wonder what it's like up there... looking north

 looking east

and looking south

and looking west as the sun drains away.