Almost Fall and a Thank You Gift Offer

It's that time of year. 

The zinnias shrug into crisp September air 

and outdo themselves in height and color. 

Fanciful fairy rings sprout overnight 

in dew-drenched clover.

And you teach your dog to wear glasses. 

Why wear glasses? 

The better to READ with, my dear!

It's only two months until my project with Familius Publishing, 

Teach Your Dog to Read, 

comes on the market. 

November 8th is the big day. 

If you preorder, I'll send thanks in the form of 

seeds from my garden. You can choose one of these: 

Send your choice of seeds and your mailing address to simpsoncircle@gmail.com.

Almost-Fall Words to Share

It's pink diamond hydrangea season on our Kentucky acre. 

Piled in this old silver-plated stand, their rural elegance shines.

TIp: If you cut these after the petals feel papery-dry, 

they'll stay lovely through the fall, until you throw them 

out and deck the halls for Christmas.

And they pair so well with ghostly-white pumpkins. 

Small ball gourds--scrubbed, polished, and ready for purchase. 

This one with the twig wreath opening is a favorite.

Lots of time to ponder while scrubbing gourds ... 

And one of four tiny hooligan pumpkins that the deer missed, grown 

from last year's seeds. 

Who does not enjoy saying hooligan pumpkin?

I'll be repeating that the rest of the day.

This from a person who chooses paint 

colors based on the chip titles ... 

It's why September Fog is on the walls in our guest room. 

Words, my friends, make all the difference. 

All.

Summer Snapshots

The pandemic season may have kept me out 

of the garden centers, but my mailbox has done 

a brisk business. Park Seed Company provided 

wonderful seed packets in early spring. 

The entire process of planting and watering provided 

the perfect distraction from virus droplets, 

un-flattened curves, and

the mask/no-mask debate. 

And look at just two of the rewards of that labor: 

cleome

dwarf mix sunflower

This little stripey gourd is from last fall's leftovers.

We're enjoying lots of family gatherings.

Our backyard has never seemed more like a safe haven 

than it does now. 

But we're going out into the wide world soon, 

if we can only remember how to vacation out there.

 I found this reminder from 2015:

My family has changed so drastically since this vacation 

photo was taken. Instead of five, we are nine. 

And now I'm not the only female among men—

I'm joined by three amazing lovelies. 

Together, I think we balance out the group well. 

Grandchildren provide endless entertainment, 

hugs, and giggles—the biggest upgrade of all.

Read the vacation blog post from 2015 here. 

"Worth It" 

Spring Garden Tips and Swift Transitions

My lily of the valley went above and beyond in the last few weeks. 

This frilly girl can be invasive—extremely so. 

If your boundaries aren't strict enough, it will take over the entire garden. 

I recommend putting it in a container if you can't be ruthless with the hoe. 

Our Japanese maples were frost-fried during the crazy weather we've had this 

spring in northern Kentucky. One young tree only has a few leaves left to power itself 

through the rest of the growing season. It's well over twelve feet tall now but 

started as a seedling like the one I found this week. Red maples can be sprouted 

from their "keys" if you have plenty of patience. 

Tutorial here. And this longer tutorial is loaded with information. 

SIDE NOTES:

One of my least favorite sayings is, "The only constant in life is change." But we all know how true it is—life is an ever-lengthening chain of transformations, variations, and transitions with an about-face or two thrown in for good measure. 

* Here's where we have choices. 

Will we choose to react in fear and doubt, processing change from a position of weakness? I admit to pitching a tent in one of these slums or another too many times. 

Or will we choose to absorb life's vagaries with confidence and good humor?

2020 has been a continual test of my resolutions to choose well. 

Maybe it has been for you, too. 

* I've been through a few stages of life now, and here's what I keep coming back to. This is what gives me direction. And when I entered motherhood twenty-eight years ago, this became one of my anthems. Will you share yours? 

Sunflower Lessons

This single bloom was enough to satisfy my sunflower hunger this year.

I found it as a seedling, accidentally sprouted between bricks on the greenhouse

floor—a birdseed spill only partly cleaned up during our spring chaos. 

Admiring its gumption, I transferred it to a pot and expected it to die. 

But it thrived.

It earned an honored spot in a raised bed with the zinnias, 

guaranteeing protection from the roly-poly rabbit mob. 

What started as accident—completely unplanned, unexpected, and unlikely—speaks its lessons 
to my backyard world daily: Determination. Strength. Perseverance. 
TRUST in the Master Gardener who notices the tiniest seedlings of grace in our lives 
and takes action to deliver an abundant yield.

Collecting Seeds for Next Year's Garden

When I'm in the garden at this time of year, my jacket pocket is crammed with 

small zipper bags and a sharpie marker or two.

Find these clear plastic bags in the beading section of any craft store, Walmart, or Amazon.

Hardworking garden plants may have left the days of summer beauty behind, 

but now they're preparing another gift—their legacy—SEEDS. 

(cleome seeds)

You can save spring gardening dollars by gathering

 next year's seeds from your own flowers instead of buying them.

(sunflower seeds)

If you haven't cut down old plant stalks and canes yet, 

the flower heads should be bursting with seed by now. 

(hardy hibiscus seeds)

As you wander along through your spent flower beds, select only the 

healthiest-looking seeds for your packets. Don't keep anything discolored or 

misshapen—those won't bring the best plants next year.

(clematis seeds)

Take an extra second and label the packet with your permanent marker. 

You might think you'll remember what plant they're from, 

but we all know how life uses its eraser on our short-term memories.

Let the Thomas Jefferson in you climb out and collect a few experimental seeds. 

These hardy begonia seeds will probably not bear anything, but it's a possibility.

Let the plastic bags remain open for a couple days until the seeds have time to 

dry completely before you zip them closed. If you zip the packets closed too soon, 

you'll end up with a packet of mold for your springtime surprise.

Store the packets in a cool, dry place, away from the sunshine. 

Happy collecting! 

The garden dollars you used to spend on pricey seed packets can 

now be used to buy that Annabelle Hydrangea you've always wanted ... 

More advice and methods for collecting seeds here and here.

Garden Bangles

Last year's Mother's Day gifts included these cool garden markers.

The black resin stakes came with a white grease pen to label ... anything! 

(... why not keep a pie bird in the greenhouse?)

Garden markers are the bangle bracelets of the flower bed, 

the bejeweled pinky rings of the veggie patch. 

Not at all necessary, but an oh-so-cool addition.

The sort you have speaks to what kind of gardener you are.

Some of us (ahem ... me) go with utilitarian methods 

of labeling in the garden: this, those, and (ugh) these.

I've even just re-used plant inserts, marking over the print with a fat Sharpie.

But ... with any Pinterest-y craft ability or Etsy cash flow, 

you could have this, those, or (ah!)these.

Perched

Arms draped with plastic-bagged groceries, I was almost to the front door when I saw it: 

Spring green moss growing right next to a pile of snow.

Are you kidding me? 

I dropped the bags and took phone photos.

I'm glad the neighbors weren't out to see me on the down-low, 

hovering over tiny patches of green. 

That's February in Kentucky! 

We're perched right on the edge of spring, with one foot buried in a snow bank 

and the other stretched toward a soft patch of new grass. 

It must be time to start some seeds ...

How Miss Saigon Got In My Cart

'Miss Saigon' Dutch iris bulbs. 

The name sucked me in, but the photo on the bag 

forced me to find room in the grocery budget for these.

If they don't come up looking EXACTLY like this - 

then I'll dig up every one and dump them in the Walmart parking lot.

The majority of the bag went into a summer container, a few in the patio garden, and a couple

out in the border garden, as a reserve. 

So far, I've only gotten a few teasing signs of life in the container, nothing more. To tell the
truth, I've forgotten exactly where I put them in the border garden, so those probably
won't survive the summer's hoeing. 

ANYway, at the same time, I finally had THESE!!!

*

Thanks to the seedpods Kate generously gave, and many frustrated attempts 

at sprouting false indigo. I've had two or three thready stalks for the last two years, and I expected them to 

be completely gone after the winter we had. But this year ... there's a big stand out there!
Turns out they're sturdy and long-lasting in an arrangement or small bouquet.

*Several American Indian tribes have made use of the plant for a variety of purposes. The Cherokees used it as a source of blue dye, a practice later copied by European settlers. They also would use the roots in teas as a purgative or to treat tooth aches and nausea, while the Osage made an eyewash with the plant.

The Seed Habit

I didn't think I'd plant seeds this spring. It seems like this middle-of-life transition has 

left me eager to discard old traditions, shaking them out of my life like dust from a cleaning cloth. Things I've ALWAYS done are coming into question, and old patterns are under close examination. 
I had already decided to forgo planting seeds 

this year, and I've been determinedly avoiding eye contact with all seed packets.

'Don't look at them and they won't look at you,' have you ever spouted that bit of  parental wisdom?

And then one day at Lowe's all was lost when I noticed (again) ... 

... nasturtium have the most unusual ROUND leaves!

It's a little bit other-worldly, I think. And I'm not the only one.

(Nerd Fact - check the ending scene in Return of the King - Sam's gate garden)

I've NEVER been able to sprout these seeds, but I'm giving it another try.

On an outing last fall, I saw a healthy vine and exclaimed over the 

wonderful-ness of all things nasturtium,

while lamenting my failure to grow my own.

My companion pal eyed me askance.

"ANYone can grow those, Suz!"

well

What would spring be without growing MAMMOTH sunflowers again? Will it work this year?

Will the positioning of the seed change the speed of seed germination?

Point UP or point DOWN?

Let's find out.

I'm planting seed saved from the single egg gourd that made it to maturity last year.

I ask you - - - what could be more fascinating than egg-shaped gourds?

Deadheading

My zinnias didn't do so well this year.

Seems it's better to scatter the seed than to transplant seedlings.

Even if the birds clean up a lot of the seeds after 

I go back to the house.

But there are a few blooming plants out there in the zinnia bed. 

Not a riot, as in past years - more like a quiet get together.

 I've got some of these beauties, though!

Last night, as all my guys hit apples*, I deadheaded the plants I have, 

reminding myself that the old has to be pulled away to make room for the new.

And that the removal of the spent flower heads causes the plant to 

produce even more blooms than it would if they were allowed to remain.

The Lord is so good as He uses His natural things to speak wisdom to my heart.

I never feel alone in the garden - it seems like He walks along, pointing and teaching,

if only I can still my chattering soul long enough to listen. 

"Incline your ear ..." the scriptures say, and when I do, He meets me there.

Old things are being pulled away in our lives right now. 

Fifteen years of homeschooling is now a thing of the past and My Youngest 
will be launching into the local high school tomorrow morning. 
On Friday, our Middle Son will be moving into 

a dorm and beginning his college career at a nearby university.

Change is the name of the game over here, and how good the Lord is

to remind me of the appropriateness of it all. The necessity of it. The promise in it.

And the safety and peace He offers in its midst.

*Our apple 'orchard' is wildly out of control and has been for years.
The apples produced are tiny and misshapen - fine for the critters who enjoy them.
And perfect for some casual batting practice! 
All our guys happened to be home last night and after dinner, they ended up 
pitching and hitting apples. I loved having them all out in the yard to "play" again!

Mini Greenhouse Bag Tutorial

Every spring, I scrape around the house looking for my seed planting gear.

Not sure how things just sprout legs and run around here, but that's how it goes.

This season, the trays to hold water under the planted seed cups were missing and I had

to raid the linen closet and drag out a lid from a plastic tote to do the extra duty.

While rooting through the closet, I found my stash of empty curtain packaging - you know those heavy plastic zipper bags that are left over after you 

put the shams on the bed, 

hang the drapes in the foyer,

or replace the shower curtain liner?

They make really great seed-starting bags, almost like mini greenhouses!

So here's a very casual photo tutorial --- 

You know my guys thought I was crazy, standing out

in the greenhouse taking photos of myself holding these plastic bags! 

1.  Keeping in mind that this bag is not a toy, 

snip a few slits along the bottom seam of the bag

to allow water to drain.

2. Use a sharpie marker to label the bag according to the seed

 you'll be sowing, because you know you're going to forget. 

Then add a few inches of seed starting soil. 

Get the good stuff - it's only about $5. 

3. Sprinkle your seeds on top of the soil, 

then add another thin layer to cover them.

 4.  Spray with water until they top is quite moist and zip the bag closed.

Place the bag in a shallow dish of water so it will stay moist, 

even if you forget about it for a day.   

Or two.

5. Do a Happy Dance when your greenhouse bags sprout seeds 

wwwaaaayyyy faster than other traditional methods. 

These seedlings came up only seven days from the first sowing, and

grew very quickly in their cozy bag, even though the night temps dipped pretty low. 

The  same seeds started in a cup on the  same afternoon and covered with plastic wrap 

had only barely started to sprout when I took these photos. 

I'll be doing this every year - and I'll feel all 

'green' and environmentally responsible, too!

Win - Win

Puff, Anyone?

Colorful packets of mysterious seeds are making the greenhouse seem crowded.

I've visited the garden department and spent a little too much, as usual.

The only repeat packets that I purchase, yearly and without fail,

are various zinnias and, of course, those heavenly blues!

All the other seed packets promise new-to-me plants.

How exciting is that? New plants for only about a buck. 

That's hard to turn down, right there.

I get a huge kick out of opening the slips and just seeing what the seeds look like!

It's incredible the variety that the Lord displays in these tiny, simple bits of life!

His hand of design leaves divine fingerprints - 

and not the sort that annoy or beg to be wiped away!

(The seeds are for borage, promising a true blue bloom,

and 'Love-In-A-Puff'.

Who could resist some love in a puff???

Not me.)