A July Past's Bouquet From My Dad's Yard

I just came upon this picture dated July, 2nd from 2015 of a bouquet I made one late afternoon from what was blooming and growing in my dad's garden. It kind of makes me want to go outside right now with some clippers on a mission to snip just enough for a small bouquet.

Not Enough Bouquets So Far This Year

But this one got me back in the mind. I miss this. Watching plants. Growing and tending something. The garden this year is tending itself in large part with large patches of welcome volunteers filling in the spaces. (this year chamomile a top contender for volunteer of the year and the love in a mist, which i should catch before it goes to seed again.) Though I haven't been experimenting myself I noticed that the coolness of this spring had flowers Joe brought home from the garden lasting a good long while in the vase.

This Was Last Week and Today

There are mums in a little bottle that were harvested last week at the community garden. In the wake that follows Hurricane Sandy, there are no worries about my own garden because it is a thing that can always be rebuilt, just as it builds itself anew every year. After the storm there is only the searching for news about what has been destroyed elsewhere and what survives, the finding out how family and friends are doing, who has power and who doesn't.

 Last week there were many moments of incredible beauty and warmth. The loveliness of this sweet marigold in the last light of the day in Martha's garden and Amsonia up in the skyline of midtown Manhattan.

Today in the aftermath of this insane storm it is gray, our street quiet and unscathed, but inside on the computer screen in the news the images are entirely the opposite.

It's Just A Little Thing at The Coffee Shop Around the Corner

Not a raisin dried in the sun, but a reminder of last year's dream deferred. Still it's important to dream and to work slowly towards something. I haven't been thinking about growing flowers a lot lately, but it's really hard not to think about bulbs this time of year. To begin the dream for a new season.

One For my Mom's Table

This year I harvested most of my garlic scapes about a month ago. Those scapes made their way into salads and one tasty pasta dish that I was surprised came from my own hands at the stove. The rest remained on the garlic plants which were just pulled this week to cure. Those remaining scapes just opening made their way into the bouquet for my mom's table above. I was getting teased down at the community garden though about leaving those scapes on. But it's win/win as far as I'm concerned. I had some scapes for eating, some for flowers and still enough garlic to harvest and of decent size to be happy with. There's more than one way to skin a cat or so I've heard.

Mays Past

Celebrating a bit of May 2010...

2011...

and the May that just ended with just a little bit of what was blooming in Brooklyn. They are all gone now with the whole of the calendar year stretching out before us until their return. For me at least a bouquet is just a reminder to catch it while I can. Because already again, just like that it's June and nothing lives forever.

A Little Piece of the Weekend Wrapped in Tinfoil

A fresh harvest from my vegetable garden. Much of it hung tough and survived the hot bike ride home and found its way into small bouquets.

What's Blooming Bouquet from the Vegetable Garden

Joe's bouquets, whether weeds from the side of the road or pickings from the vegetable garden, are usually my favorites. Here just a little slice of May via a flowering cover crop, a brassica that bolted, sage and some unopened Verbena bonariensis, which actually overwintered in my garden this year.

One Slow Flower

The Columbine seeds were collected in 2010 at Brooklyn Botanic while working with Mike in the plant family collection and came home in my pocket. The plant sown from those seeds finally bloomed in Joe's garden this spring and this is one flower that made it's way home in the paniers of Joe's bicycle this week.

A Grass I'm Testing This Week

It's holding strong day four. Now I just have to figure out what it is. (It's a roadside find.) Right now, I think it's Hare Barley. A weed. Another weed I tested this week is a definitely a member of the pea family, Birdsfoot Trefoil. (A lot find) That's unfortunately crapping out at day three. But I didn't change the water or recut the stems or condition it other than a quick shot in the fridge, so maybe another time round with a little different care, it will last a little longer.

The Scene From Today's Window Sill

Joe's in mad propagating mode and he's beginning to take up more and more window sill real estate. His innovations continually surprise me. Today I noticed the new shelf and the mirror for catching some extra sunlight for the tomato, eggplant and pepper seedlings. I can only wish that I had some of the building and really fine motor skills that he has. Handling delicate seedlings kind of freaks me out (I still have to get past my tendency to be overly precious with plants), but he just pricks them out and transplants with the kind ease and steady hand that makes it seem like he's been doing it his whole life.

And below, some freshly harvested flowers in a little bouquet. (You know I don't keep bouquets on the window sill. It's just a source for capturing some daylight for pictures.)

Some of what's blooming now, grown in Brooklyn

Flowers in the House (of One Wild and Crazy March)

Unfortunately, I am not only late to Jane's Flowers in the House party, I'm also short on flowers in the house because Susan and I have been busy trying to get them in other places. So here is a flowers in the house (of muffins)...

One in the commode (at home, a sweet picking by Joe)

And some in the house (of coffee) up the block. Kind of wishing that they could all be mine to wake up and see tomorrow morning when of all things winter will actually be making an appearance for the year. Not sure I'm so ready yet to be growing these things for other people to enjoy. We didn't think these daffs were going to come up and be the typical yellow (you never know with some bags of bulbs), but now I'm thinking that maybe we don't need to be so quick to dismiss the ordinary as not being worthwhile.

 For Jane's sweet pickings and what's blooming now in Virginia (lilacs already, holy moly), visit Jane at SmallButCharming and follow the links to her fine flower-loving friends too. (Sorry Jane. Next time I'll be sure to remember to save some for home and for me.)

Some Bits in Old Bottles

Some bits dried from last year but still vibrant. Some branches freshly pruned for practical purposes but saved for the vase. Some heath fresh because it's blooming now. And bottles found on the shore. A real salvager's delight. (Susan is a salvager of things, so I know she had a good time playing around this afternoon and I have a thing for the old and the new.)

I can't count the number of blooming things in Brooklyn right now (mid March! holy cow!), but we are still a little shy of some very eagerly awaited blooms from a dusty lot. We're hoping for some rain, but taking advantage of the insane weather and planting anyway. Today some divided yarrow, sedum and stachys. We know they like it dry, but are they ready for how tough that lot really is? We'll see. Some seeds are germinating inside in cellpacks, and the garbage that's been accumulating awaits tackling. The grand plan is to just keep on going until we cannot anymore. We'll plant some things for harvest, some things to leave be, some for the pollinators and see what comes. It's just a little dream we're following.

One Thing in Season Now

Pussy Willow.

My Favorite Flower Bouquet From Last Year

One might say I'm just being sentimental because Joe picked it from by the railroad in Hudson. And because it's entirely made from these scrappy weedy species that grow by the roadside. But that's not true at all. It's just because I think it's lovely and it reminds me of summer.

Are You Ready?

For the sublime possibilities of February? (These pictures are just a bit of my February last year. And man, it was way colder than this year. We hadn't yet been snowfree at this time) I'm looking forward to watching this February develop. I've got my eyes out for catkins and blooms and buds galore. It's time to wake up again and start paying attention.

Ivy in Winter

Last year's end of January bouquet needs to be gathered from another place. The ivy that was growing on the tree outside Susan's studio at the navy yard was hacked last year, but it's not like ivy is a rare thing here in the city. I still can't help but think about flowers and bouquet material in the same way that I think of vegetables. I think of them as things to grow. I consider when to plant seed, what they need to succeed or when to expect their bloom for harvest. Which ones might succeed in a scrappy lot in the city? But also too, like the ivy above, where I might find them growing by the wayside.

The Leaf's The Thing

...I'm enjoying right now. Any opportunity to watch a leaf unfurling on a branch is a fine one in my book. I didn't try to force these branches at all, happy enough to just have those beautiful buds to look at, which make the Magnolias so compelling and easily identifiable in winter.

It finally feels like winter here in Brooklyn, but the first leaves of spring are not so far away at all.

Quince Flowers at Susan's

Outside now in Brooklyn, most branches are bare, with the exception of those plants that hold their leaves here throughout the winter and the winter buds of next years leaves and flowers on decidious trees. But inside at Susan's, there is a branch or two with some blooming quince flowers. And they are all the more sweet because the sight of something blooming now is rare. They put me in the mind to visit a conservatory at a botanical garden or public garden nearby. With the exception of a florist or bodega, where flowers are flown in from warmer climes around the world, I can't think of somewhere else right here in New York City where I could get a real taste of what it might be like to be in another season where things are blooming.

Just a Few Bits from Last Year

Chasmanthium latifolium (native) along with weed grass seed heads (bouquet)

to get me through the winter. It's kind of a sparse bouquet, just a shadow of a thing really, but it moves with the slighest movement of air, much like the things it contains do outside. It will have to do right now for a January bouquet. What better time to embrace the idea of sparse beauty better than winter anyway?