It must have been 10 years ago (at least) when I planted the native dogwood tree in amongst the big trees on Melissa Street.
It grew, but it never produced a single bloom. Now Annie, who with David owns the home, tells me that the darned tree is blooming. It obviously likes her better than me and I’m kind of jealous, but also I’m happy for her, because dogwoods are glorious when flowering, and they are native to BC. I must ask her what her secret method is, it might help someone else who is hopefully waiting for a blossom or two.
My mother had a pink dogwood in a place of honour in her garden. It stood alone in full sun, and bloomed like mad every spring.
This next week we will celebrate the 24 of May, and that is the date when most things can be put outside, things like petunias, cosmos, osteospermum (African daisies) just about everything, although I think I’d hold off on the tomatoes and peppers until it gets steadily warm at night, although if you cover them with Reemay cloth, or a plastic tent, they should be safe.
In fact, you will have to remove the plastic tents if it turns hot, or you’ll end up with fried tomates and scalded peppers. It has been such a strange cool spring, one is afraid to put anything the least bit delicate out in the open garden.
My seedling geraniums are still in the greenhouse waiting patiently for warmer weather, and I am I’m patiently waiting to plant them in their permanent location among the dying foliage of the crocus.
I must be careful not to cut the crocus bulbs in half, something that used to reduce me to tears when it was a hyacinth, or a special tulip bulb.
There are many small oranges on the orange tree, thanks to my make-up brush, but I wonder if I should thin them. It seems a mighty burden for such a modest plant, probably time to apply some fertilizer to give it a helping hand.