April showers bring May... heatwaves???

May should have been the official start of gardening, but seemingly days after the last frost date we were hit with temperatures in the nineties, making me lurk indoors, hiding in the air conditioning as my plants wilted in their plastic pots on the driveway. By June temperatures had hit 100+, and my options were to face heat exhaustion (which I am overly susceptible to), or wait till dusk and face armies of biting insects.

In other news, I have somehow been talked into a dog. Now, I grew up with Pomeranians, and one 45-lb pit bull mix. I knew hubby is not a "small dog person", so I figured we'd get something along the size of my beloved pit (who resides down the road with my mother). Ha. At the shelter he fell for a 60-lb rambunctious lab mix who "might grow another 10-15 pounds". Then hubby left for work, leaving me to deal with a totally unmannered, unhousetrained, slobbering, barking, shedding, out of control dog who terrorizes me, my cat, my neighbors, my house, and even my poor gardens. I have scratches, bruises, and bite marks all over and am seriously rethinking my status as a "dog lover", but after a month we at least now have a fence that keeps him out of (most of) my gardens. I am thinking of sending them both off to obedience school. I think the cat will back me up.

Calm, calm, calm... in the meantime here are some pictures of my garden in spring, before the heat zapped the flowers:

Here is a "Ha-ha!" to all the people who claim you can't overwinter Amaryllis in zone 7. A little mulch and these beauties were fine!


This Clematis has really got to start climbing up the railing. Doesn't it look sad tucked behind the holly bushes where its beauty can't be fully appreciated?





I love the smell of mock orange. My mother used to have a grove of them at the house where I grew up in, and I have fond memories of walking through them, posing for pictures with my date the day of my junior prom.


This strawberry tower, despite the worst case of slugs that I have ever seen, gave me plenty of fresh strawberries this year. I have never been too fond of west coast strawberries; here in Carolina they just taste sweeter, but lack the shelf life of California varieties. I gathered enough to make a gallon of homemade strawberry ice cream, much to hubby's delight.