This was the first weekend of the Major League Baseball season and we couldn’t be happier here. Not only because the New York Mets started the season 3-0 (who saw that coming?), but because baseball is a part of our every day lives.
From having it on the TV each night, or playing it in the backyard or trekking from little league field to little league field with the kids, April through September is all things baseball. We friggin love it.
While I was pitching to my son in the backyard this weekend, I was slyly mapping out a plan to move some shrubs to a new location. As soon as he needed a break, I grabbed my shovel, a pair of gloves and without hesitation, moved two arborvitaes to their new home. Truthfully, this was only step 1 and 2 of a 15 step plan, but it was still progress.
As I dropped the shovel and picked the glove back up, it hit me. Gardening and baseball are very similar. I’m a deep thinker like that. Seriously, it’s true and I’m here today to prove it to you.
Shall we begin?
Spring optimism
When baseball spring training commences in the middle of February each year, every team has an incredibly positive outlook on the upcoming season. Each team has a record of 0-0 and anything can happen:
I love all that positivity near the end of winter. Who knows, maybe this is the year the Mets surprise the world and win their division? … OK, usually by July reality sets in and we realize it is another lost year:
But we’re building towards a better season next year, right?
Late winter/early spring is also a time when a gardener imagines all things will work out as planned. Those plants we stuck in the ground last fall will survive the winter and thrive come spring. That newly designed bed is the perfect mix of evergreens, deciduous shrubs and flowering perennials, right?
The new foliage that emerges in March/April always looks so clean and healthy:
And we can’t wait for the blooms to show up in the upcoming months:
And then the reality of dealing with weather conditions, pests or having enough time to water hits and you end up with this:
Or certain plants that continually tease us, show their true colors once again:
Maybe next year.
Both write a new story each and every day
A lot of people complain that the baseball season is too long and each game doesn’t have the drama of say a regular season NFL game (162 games vs 16 games). That may be true to an extent, but that is exactly why I love baseball. There is always another game the next day. A new story is waiting to unfold and we can read about in the local paper each morning:
Hell, baseball is part of our birthday parties:
And we’ll go to watch our son play at night:
Only to come home and flip the TV on immediately after we set foot in the house.
The slow development and growth of a garden feels the same way to me. As I walk the kids out to the bus each morning, I make sure to observe any overnight changes with the plants:
The changes range from subtle to dramatic:
And it is a long season that never fails to provide you with an interesting development:
The “Dog Days” of summer
A baseball season starts to drag during the peak of summer in August and the conditions can be brutal. It requires some serious stamina and focus:
Plants go through the exact same thing and struggle mightily without our influence:
A garden truly peaks in late summer/early fall
This one may not apply for some of you, but too bad.
As the baseball season winds down, each game feels more important than the next and the emotions can run way high:
I find that a garden has its most depth and character as the fall approaches. You feel each plant has reached a crescendo (did I really just use that word?) before it starts its inevitable decline:
I wish I could extend late summer in the garden for months just like I wish those late season baseball games (assuming the Mets are still in it) would never end.
Off season planning
And then just like that, the season is done and it is time to start thinking about next year.
I like to think of myself as the “general manager” in charge of the development of my yard and will call in the other executives at the conclusion of the season to discuss our off season plans:
With enough planning and research, we’ll get it right next year. Maybe we’ll trade that “under performing” geranium for a few coneflowers. Maybe we can scour the waiver wire for some irises that other teams no longer wanted.
So what do you think? Am I on to something here? Am I nuts?
Be on the lookout for a future post when I try to compare gardening to football … or maybe soccer.
John
The rapid emergence of new, clean and vibrant foliage backlit by the sun:
And the promise and anticipation of an explosion of flowers in the very near future:
Thanks yo for making the return trip:
Thanks yo for surviving yet another winter:
Thanks yo for the slow emergence adding to the anticipation:
Thanks yo for surviving a late transplant in the fall and still producing flowers:
Thanks yo for some actual early color:
Thanks yo for being a cool season grass and providing early variegation:
Thanks yo for allowing me to host your young:
I give you Iberis (Candytuft) ‘Snowflake’:
This super reliable and evergreen plant starts to show signs of new life in late winter, here in zone 6B:
The buds start to form soon after:
And before you know it, the plant is covered in clusters of flat, sparkling white flowers in mid to late April:
These blooms shine in the evening and would fit perfectly in a moon garden. I have two of them at the foot of my front steps so I can enjoy them each night.
The flowers last a good three weeks for me before they are spent:
And then I’ll cut them back by a 1/3 to a 1/2 and the needle-like foliage will look clean throughout the remainder of the year:
Some other bits of info:
- Typical size is about 1′ x 2′
- Prefers full sun but works in partial shade for me
- Most commonly used in rock gardens and as an evergreen groundcover
- Prefers hot and dry conditions and well draining soil (still not sure how it is working for me)
- Survives in zones 3-9
You like?
John
Let’s start out with a little math today:
365 (days in a year) – 21 (average # of days away from home each year) = 344
344 x 2.5 (average # of times I take the dog out each day) = 860
860 x 5 (average # of minutes spent outside with said dog) = 4300
4300/60 = 71.66 hours spent outside with the dog each year (and that only includes bathroom trips)
What is the point of this tedious mathematical equation? Glad you asked.
When properly rounded, that is 72 hours (or 3 days) spent each year just critiquing my front garden beds while walking the dog. As much as I love Casey, (a Labrador Retriever who will be 13 in July), I am in full-on garden evaluation mode while I am outdoors with her. This is true winter, spring, summer or fall. It’s joy and torture all rolled into one. Think of it as “paralysis by analysis”. Maybe I should have mixed it up and taken her to other parts of the yard, but the damage is already done.
Recently, on a cold and windy evening, as I stood outside with my dog, I was at it again. I was getting myself all worked up over a number of seemingly unimportant plant/gardening issues. This is supposed to be relaxing and fun, right? Not always for me.
As a means of therapy, and clearing my conscience and to also help others who are suffering from the same draining and painful affliction, I decided I would share my inner most thoughts with you all. It isn’t always pretty and it may sour your love of gardening, so consider yourself warned.
This is a ‘Mt Hood’ daffodil that is supposed to be all white after a brief yellow trumpet period. I don’t like them yellow at all so why don’t I just replace them with an “all white, all the time” option? Does that even exist?: 
This is the angle I typically view these same daffodils each day and night. If they are all going to lean forward and seek out the sun, what is the point?:
F’n daylillies! Their new spring foliage always looks so clean and vibrant yet I know I’ll hate them in early summer after they bloom. Yes, I can shear them at that time but who wants to do that at that time of year? Are they even worth it?:
Speaking of newly emerging foliage, this ‘Little Elf’ spirea looks good early in the season but you know that great yellow hue will be washed out as the temps get warmer and warmer. Again, is it all worth it? Especially in a prominent place near my front entrance?:
What bulbs did I even plant here? I have no memory of planting them this past fall. I’ve got nothing in front of them to hide their decaying foliage and we all know how important it is to let the foliage die out on its own. One year and then trash these, whatever the hell they are?:
Like a champ, I managed to kill off about ten Lamium plants last summer and this is the sole survivor. But what the hell do you do with one groundcover? Do I ditch it? Buy more to go with it? But I killed a bunch already. Maybe that was because they received too much sun? Or were planted to deep into the summer? Who thinks about a Lamium this much?:
I guess my blog name continues to represent my gardening philosophy.
I do have my relaxed moments and enjoy everything that plants throw my way.
Maybe I just need to bring a book outside with me when I walk the dog?
Have a great weekend!
John
In this video, I try to identify a bizarre bird noise and need your help:
Yeah, you read that right.
This blog post title is a reference to Barry Manilow. I’ve been waiting for over two years to find the right time to throw “Mr Copacabana” into the mix. And here it is.
But I digress.
We really did spend this past weekend in New England (Connecticut actually) with family and had an awesome time. I no longer had to ask myself “When will this strong yearning end?”; I was actually there and loving every minute of it (Sorry, that is the last Manilow reference). The time in New England really did take me away (Seriously, no more mentions of Barry).
We drove up from New Jersey super early on Saturday morning and miraculously encountered no traffic on 95. As we approached our destination, I made a quick and violent turn when I saw the word “Orchard” on a small sign. It was as if I was pulled by powers beyond my control. Even though the kids had to pee real bad, this was something that couldn’t be missed. After about a mile drive, I pulled to the side of the road and took out the camera. It was too scenic not to be captured on film:
Childrens’ bladders be damned, I’m glad we found this gem.
We eventually located the market/store on the property and let the kids take care of business. Well, two last pics of the daffodils before we went in:
The kids were good to go and we were ready to descend upon our hosts:
After we got settled in and caught up on life, we herded all of the kids out to a “dinosaur park”. “Park” may be a bit of an exaggeration. It was more like a dinosaur “nook” and our hosts were a bit embarrassed but we all loved it:
Check out this footprint:
Their minds were riveted, albeit briefly, by the thoughts of dinosaurs roaming the area but like most kids, they found climbing to be the real joy:
The idea of wearing out the children so the parents could start drinking earlier in the evening was on all of our minds so we immediately swept them off to the local playground:
And if you thought that plan was genius, how about shuffling the already exhausted kids off into the hot tub for a “cool down”:
Operation “Good night children” complete …
Ironically, it turns out the parents couldn’t make it much past 9:00 PM and the kids were still sneaking around the house at that time. Oh well.
The next day was a nice lazy “hang”. Delicious breakfast and unlimited coffee. We were all chilling when I was asked if I wanted some cuttings of a hydrangea that dates back to the 1970’s. I couldn’t mouth the words “hell yeah” fast enough.
Turns out this hydrangea was originally planted in Staten Island, NY by my wife’s great grandfather. This man was a well known gardener in the city and we have a number of old newspaper clippings that display his work. A man cut from the same cloth as me. A hero I never actually met but have heard such warm stories about.
After he passed, the shrub made it’s way to Acton, MA up until the early 2000’s. At that point, it was moved to the locale below: 
Our gracious hosts gave me two cuttings after getting drenched in the pouring rain. I was proud to be part of carrying on the legacy.
That afternoon, we said our goodbyes after having a fantastic time. We promised each other that we would do this again soon. Even their dog was sad to see us go:
We arrived back home in early evening and after unpacking, I grabbed the camera to capture some actual blooms that emerged while we were gone:
But most importantly, I planted my new hydrangea cuttings and can now watch them take off:
Hopefully some day I can give my kids cuttings from this same shrub.
A good damn weekend.
“Looks like we made it”.
John
THE
WINNER
IS
THE
ONE
AND
ONLY
… Janet, The Queen of Seaford!!!!!
Congrats and thank you all for playing!
John