Trash talking

We finally cleared out the vegetable garden. Don’t the bags look like they’re talking to each other?

Psst! Hey girls, have you heard the one about the compost pile?”

“What, are you too good for garden refuse?”


Down to business

It’s ridiculous, I know, but a month of beautiful days has found me inside, almost nailed to my chair, some inner force keeping me in the house. Today my spirit broke through and I got out there in the sunshine and started yanking the weeds.

This is what I’m dealing with:

Even someone who’s not lazy would be daunted by this…and I had already been yanking out the biggest weeds for an hour when I thought to take this photo.

The real motivator was that I asked My Guy Joe, the one who mows¬† my lawn for money, what he would charge to just come in and do it thinking he’d say 50 bucks, a hundred at the most. He said 300. I felt motivated.

It helps to have assistance:

Nice work Polly!

Isn’t it inspiring when you stumble across a survivor like this:

But this pair is the absolute scourge of my existence, Creeping Charlie and Locust tree pods.

Tomorrow I deliver plants (mostly my partner’s) to the Scott Arboretum’s Annual Members Plant Swap. Look for full coverage of this momentous event!

Plant drop off at Scott Arboretum

Tomorrow is one of the most important days in the calendar year — the Annual Members Plant Swap at the Scott Arboretum at Swarthmore College. Here’s how it works: members dig up plants that have overrun their gardent, pot them up and bring them to the Arboretum. For every three plants a member brings (all labeled with Latin names of course), they get one ticket that entitles them to one free plant at the swap. They also get a number that gives them a place in line for the actual swap. They can drop plants off from 3 to 6:30 PM. My plan was to get there as close to 3 as possible. It was 3:10 when I arrived.

The Dearly Beloved had 27 plants, all labeled with computer printed names! Sigh. As you can imagine, I was potting plants at the last minute and came up with 12. Well 11 really. DB gave me an extra one so I’d get four tickets.

Here’s the path so clearly marked to the Plant Swap. Everything’s so well done at Swarthmore/Scott Arboretum.

Was your college like this? Mine wasn’t. Well, that’s not true, I went to Penn State where the LA/Hort people sleep with rakes next to their beds and everything is mulched to within an inch of its life.

The organization of the Swap is quite impressive. All the volunteers wear their crayola colored t-shirts that you can only get when you volunteer. Canvas hats and sneakers are popular here too.

Cool carts at the ready. Loading my pitiful Shasta Daisies (Latin name: Ordinarinus Populus) and Asters (Latin name: Dangerous Overrunus) onto these carts made me feel like I was Somebody.

Someone else’s contribution, quite impressive!

So tomorrow is akin to Christmas Day for me and the Dearly Beloved. We get up early after hardly sleeping at all for all the excitement and trek over to Swarthmore around 9 to look everything over. We chat amiably with the other gardeners as we eye the goods and by 10 a.m. we get in line and talk strategy under our breath. When the gun goes off we make a beeline for the one or two prized plants that we want. I will get four. She will get nine. I will not cry or beg.

Because I don’t have to! She’s generous and doing it just for the sport of it!

Well, maybe not.

What’s fun is how courteous and gentle everyone is beforehand and how they practically wrestle plants from other people once the gun goes off.

Once everyone in line has gone through they close the gate, we get in line again and then AGAIN they shoot off the damned gun and we’re off to buy plants for a dollar each! It’s great! It’s competitive and all over by 11. Then we take a nap because we’ll need one.

By the way, there is no gun. Swarthmore is a Quaker school.

Carrot dreams

I planted carrots in the hope that they would look like this:

This is what I dug up:

Polly The Dog swiped them, ate some and buried others. I wonder what they will look like when I dig them up next year.  In the meantime, she surveys her kingdom:

Going to town

(The Laziest Gardener finds it a little too easy to refer to herself as “The Laziest Gardener” and to hide behind this persona. Just so you know.)

She headed into town and away from her own yard once again. (Using the third person to refer to oneself is even more fun.)

Here’s Rittenhouse Square, the public’s garden.

Pretty lovely.

Before I headed into town I spent some time on one of my favorite websites,, re-read this post by her gardening partner about what he calls the Italian Rototiller. Really, once you’ve read it tell you don’t want one too?

Isn’t this a lovely garden?

Too bad it isn’t mine. Yesterday The Laziest Gardener avoided working in her own desolate yard by edging the garden of her Dearly Beloved’s.

Along the way I noticed the bleeding hearts.

Hummingbirds love this honeysuckle.

Just another view of what's seen when I'm on my knees, sifting weeds from the most excellent dirt.

The Dearly Beloved was potting numerous plants for Scott Arboretum’s Member’s Plant Sale, an event that is the gardener’s equivalent of Christmas morning. Standing in line everyone’s all cheery and polite but as soon as the clock strikes 9 you never saw so many ladies in cotton hats run so fast, exclaiming in Latin all the while.

Meanwhile, back at The Laziest Gardener’s own homestead, the before:

Looks similar to the after:

Dangerous Place: Primex

Always two steps ahead of myself, I decided I needed two tons of right dress before I started cleaning up the yard this afternoon. By the end of the summer the pile of plastic and mulch will have created a nice brown spot.

But while I was in the blessed sanctuary that is Primex I was distracted by pretty colors:

Mhmmm, maybe I need some other colors of twine?

And while I kept thinking “rightdressrightdress” what should I run in to but this:

And when I bought a few, the woman ringing me up tapped them and said, “You’ve got to get these Right In The Ground.” “I know,” I mumbled, “March 15th for peas and sweet peas.” I almost started to say, hey, I started this blog called the Laziest Gardener. Like that would help them get into the ground any sooner.

Advertising works because on the sunflower packet it says:

"Create a Floral Hedge"

Do you know how many frikkin packs of these I would have to buy to create a floral hedge?

And as far as the sweet peas go, one thing that works for procrastinators are seeds that resow, like the sweet peas from last year:

There’s also this, just before you walk out the door:

I’ll get a whole bunch of bird feeders and add yet another distraction!