Welcome to where I am, where my kitchen's always messy, a pot's (or a poet) always about to boil over, a dog is always begging to be fed. Drafts of poems on the counter. Windows filled with leaves. Wind. Clouds moving over the mountains. If you like poetry, books, and music--especially dog howls when a siren unwinds down the hill-- you'll like it here.


MY NEW AUTHOR'S SITE, KATHRYNSTRIPLINGBYER.COM, THAT I MYSELF SET UP THROUGH WEEBLY.COM, IS NOW UP. I HAD FUN CREATING THIS SITE AND WOULD RECOMMEND WEEBLY.COM TO ANYONE INTERESTED IN SETTING UP A WEBSITE. I INVITE YOU TO VISIT MY NEW SITE TO KEEP UP WITH EVENTS RELATED TO MY NEW BOOK.


MY NC POET LAUREATE BLOG, MY LAUREATE'S LASSO, WILL REMAIN UP AS AN ARCHIVE OF NC POETS, GRADES K-INFINITY! I INVITE YOU TO VISIT WHEN YOU FEEL THE NEED TO READ SOME GOOD POEMS.

VISIT MY NEW BLOG, MOUNTAIN WOMAN, WHERE YOU WILL FIND UPDATES ON WHAT'S HAPPENING IN MY KITCHEN, IN THE ENVIRONMENT, IN MY IMAGINATION, IN MY GARDEN, AND AMONG MY MOUNTAIN WOMEN FRIENDS.




Friday, August 1, 2008

Petunias


Summer would not be summer without petunias somewhere in my yard. I'm not as petunia-ambitious as I once was, with large hanging baskets dripping with all hues of petunia, but I do have a few pots of them this summer. They were among my grandmother's favorites, along with coleus and zinnias. She kept many large coffee cans of them on her porch, as well as in her flower beds, where they re-seeded year after year. Her coleus grew to extravagant size, often planted in coffee cans when she ran out of store-bought pots. Nowadays I never see petunias when I go home to S. Georgia. I asked my mother why. The reason? They are considered "cheap" flowers. Most gardeners, particularly those in town, wouldn't consider having them in their yards. They want fancier flowers, I suppose, from nurseries. Petunias belong to their past, when they or their kinfolks lived in the country. I rarely see zinnias, either. Coleus still hangs on, in new-fangled shades and patterns. I love it for being so easily re-cycled, sprouting new roots for new pots throughout the season.

And elephant ears! Mine never winter over, as they do in South Georgia. I didn't plant any this summer. Yes, my grandmother had them, too. My sister-in-law's elephant ears are ever-faithful! They never disappear, having such a long memory for the place where they flourish.

I keep forgetting to dead-head my petunias. That will be on my list of duties for the day, along with washing Lord Byron.

The ceramic flower- woman below was given to me by my friend, novelist and poet Isabel Zuber (see earlier post). It hangs by my back door, near the pots of petunias and coleus. Isabel says it looks like Virginia Woolf!

4 comments:

James Hogan said...

I love petunias! Yes, they're cheap (at least, at our nurseries) but they're plentiful and beautiful. We've planted them around our new fireplace in the back yard. I'll have to send a picture your way. Kelly and I always plant the deep purple ones because they remind us of Western.

Vicki Lane said...

I plant those declassee petunias -- they're worth it for their honey smell that fills the air on warm evenings. And I too forget to dehead -- such a lady-like task and I enjoy it but it slips by in the welter of other, less pleasant chores.

Susan M. Bell said...

The way I see it, the cheaper the flowers are, the more you can buy. Isn't it better to have many, many flowers in many, many colors than just a few in one or two colors?

I love the ceramic face as well. I don't hang things like that out of deference to my husband. He hates masks. Doesn't like clowns either, and I think that's all part of the same thing.

Glenda (Writerlady) said...

I have always loved to grow petunias and this year I have just one pot which has never produced a bloom. Could it be that I let someone else plant the petunias in the pot?
But geraniums are prolific on my deck. RED is my color this year. Red geranium, red salvia, and lantana in one corner have brought the most wonderful array of butterflies and hummingbirds to our little tree house. But next year, I'll have more petunias.