wordsfromanneli

Thoughts, ideas, photos, and stories.

Category Archives: Gardening


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Lily

This lily looks a bit like a Himalayan lily, or a lily of Nepal (except the Nepal lily has a slight green tinge to the white parts of the petals).

Lovely lily, scent so sweet,

But don’t sniff too close,

Tiny stamens with their feet,

Dab dust on your nose.


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Learning English is not Easy

As I’ve mentioned before, my mother had trouble learning the English name for daffodils when we first came to Canada a very long time ago. She had heard of Daffy Duck because we children used to listen to a Saturday radio show called Kiddies’ Corner and they often played stories about Daffy Duck.

She also knew what dolls were, of course, because my little sisters had to have their dolls.

So the best she could do to get her tongue around the word “daffodils” was “daffy dolls.” My mother has been gone for 43 years already, but I can’t help thinking of her every year when my “daffydolls” bloom, usually in the same month when she died so long ago.

These flowers bring me happy thoughts of her wonderful sense of humour and her sunny disposition. She loved gardening and would be pleased to see daffydolls in my yard. I wish she could see them. But who knows? Maybe she can.

 

cheerful daffodils

welcoming another spring

bittersweet flowers

 


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M is for Mice

Where is your mother, little mice?

You’d better get back into your nest.

Mama Mouse was found in an old apple box that, once she had jumped into it, was too high for her to jump out of.

Mama Mouse was exhausted from all the jumping efforts, and lay still after her rescue, soaking up the warmth until she recovered from her ordeal.

In a few moments, she perked up, and remembering her children, rushed to save them.

M is for Mighty Maisie the mama mouse and her three blind mice.

 

I know that some people are afraid of mice, but how do you think they feel about us?

Here is one of my favourite poems by Rose Fyleman:

Mice

I think mice
Are rather nice.
Their tails are long,
Their faces small.
They haven’t any chins at all.
Their ears are pink,
Their teeth are white.
They run about
The house at night.
They nibble things
They shouldn’t touch
And no one seems
To like them much.
But I think mice
Are nice.

 


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Squish, Squash

Why would a vegetable that has such a hard skin be called a squash?

These are only a few of the squashes ripening in my garden. I have no idea what they are called, but I know they all taste good.

About four years ago, a friend gave me an assortment of squashes just like these because he had so many in his garden and gladly shared them. I happily made meals with them and enjoyed them so much, I decided to save some of the seeds to plant in my own garden the next year.

I got a few of them planted and was happy to see them sprout at last, but in the time it took for them to sprout, many squash plants sprang up in my freshly rototilled garden patch. How did that happen? I had spread the contents of my compost barrel over the ground before rototilling, and in the compost were many seeds from the squash I had cleaned and eaten that previous winter.

For the third year in a row now, I have had volunteer squash plants growing in my garden. I didn’t have the heart to pull them out, except to thin them a bit.

Now there are so many squashes of all the types my friend gave me, that the plants are “squashing” each other.

… Guess what I’ll be eating all winter …

Nothing squishy, nothing squashy,

Simply bring them in to  washy,

Cut in half and scoop the seeds,

Feed the compost what it needs.

 

Place them on a baking sheet,

Spread with butter smooth and neat,

Salt and pepper if you like,

Gives the taste a little spike.

 

Easy peasy supper treat,

Hot and filling, can’t be beat,

If you want a next year’s crop,

Fill your compost to the top.

 

When the springtime songbirds sound,

Toss that compost on the ground,

Mix it in and water well,

And the squash will grow like heck.