The little things brightening my January

January is a never an easy month for me. I brace myself every year for the month when my seasonal affective disorder hits the hardest and I find myself surfing the internet at midnight looking for flights to Hawaii.

But this year has been a bit different, in a good way.

This time last year I had spent the last 5 months of 2010 significantly incapacitated by my own body, and I was waiting anxiously for surgery to rectify the issues. The garden was overgrown and unruly, and I was helpless to change that fact as I sat inside watching anything entertaining I could find on Netflix.

Having been through that experience and journaling it on a blog so I can go back and read about it has provided me with a significant amount of perspective. I took mental notes then and have enacted them this year.

This year I decided that I would make sure and plant a small winter container garden on the back deck. In the past I haven't wanted to spend money on annual flowers because it seemed like a waste of resources.

But this year was different.

In November, I went to the local nursery and bought potted herbs--chives, oregano, marjoram and a couple of varieties of thyme. Then I bought winter annuals (we have those here) to plant in the pots next to the herbs. I got pretty little violas with purple and white faces, pansies in rich jewel tones, and ruffled snapdragons in a pale peachy pink (my favorite). I couldn't resist a beautiful purple and green decorative kale so I got it too.

I filled the terra cots pots with the little splashes of color. When I was done, it seemed like a lot of work for such a small space. But I knew it would be worth it come January.

And I was right.

Sheltered against the house on our southwestern facing deck, the flowers have thrived despite frosty nights with temps below freezing. And around 1 pm when the afternoon sun makes its way to that side of the house, I go out and bask in it for a while to soak up the important rays that fend off my seasonal affective disorder. Along with some potted lavender that's chosen to continue blooming through the winter, the little potted flowers are my companions and they are brightening my January, making it so much easier this year than in years past.

If that isn't enough and I really need a pick-me-up, I stand under the loquat tree growing on the super-sunny-south-side of the house and watch honeybees buzz from blossom to blossom as if January never happens in their little world. The honeybees on the loquats remind me that February almond blossoms, daffodils and narcissus are right around the corner. And soon it will be spring.

Click here if you'd like to read the blog I mentioned above

Life at Rosehaven Cottage: Tucked in the corners of the January gardens

The gray of January hangs in the damp chilly air over the gardens here at Rosehaven Cottage. There is no winter snow... just rain, fog, and an occasional early-morning frosting of shimmery crystals on the rooftop. The beauty of the winter garden often lies low and in protected corners where the frost cannot find it.

At the base of our young olive tree the sunny yellow heads of jonquils brighten the drab landscape, sending hints of their fragrance wafting on the chilly air.

Under the protective boughs of the oleander, the shy little violets bloom fragrant and sweet in the blue-purple color I associate with January.

On the shady side of the house, the camellias put on the annual show I wait the rest of the year to see. Their spectacular display of lipstick reds and rouge pinks are garden Valentines.

A Golden Afternoon

In yesterday's post I mentioned the song Golden Afternoon from my favorite Disney animated classic Alice in Wonderland. Today, as I knelt down out in the front garden in short shirt sleeves on a 68°F (20°C) "golden afternoon" to plant a flat of lovely delicate Apricot Antique shade violas, the song kept playing in my head over and over again. Let me share the lyrics with you.

Golden Afternoon
Music: Sammy Fain
Lyrics: Bob Hilliard
Performed by: Kathryn Beaumont [Alice], Chorus [Flowers]

Little bread-and-butterflies kiss the tulips,
And the sun is like a toy balloon.
There are get up in the morning glories,
In the golden afternoon.

There are dizzy daffodils on the hillside,
Strings of violets are all in tune,
Tiger lilies love the dandy lions,
In the golden afternoon,
The golden afternoon.

There are dog and caterpillars and a copper centipede,
Where the lazy daisies love the very peaceful life they lead...

You can learn a lot of things from the flowers,
For especially in the month of June.
There's a wealth of happiness and romance,
All in the golden afternoon. ...
All in the golden afternoon,
The golden afternoon...


It was definitely a "golden afternoon" with "a wealth of happiness and romance"--just perfect for the week of Valentine's Day.

The little Apricot Antique shade violas had an air of romance about them--the old Victorian kind of romance. Kissed with the dusty light purple of the gemstone of February, the amethyst, the little violas now fill a curving bed in the front garden in front of leafless rosebushes waiting for this year's leaves to grow. Their tiny little faces cupped water droplets after I watered them with garden hose. Like a little jewel in the center of each blossom, the water droplets added a particularly whimsical touch to the lovely blooms.

To my surprise, I discovered that the blue anemone has bloomed again with two perfect blue blooms! Usually it blooms around Christmas (it's a winter flower in our zone) and then it's done. I was so pleasantly surprised to discover that it's going to give me more of its beautiful "blue-ness" to enjoy. In case, you didn't know... I LOVE blue flowers and purple toned flowers. There is something magical about that hue in the garden amidst so much yellow, pink, orange and red. Blue doesn't seem to "belong" in the garden, so that's why I always seem to want to see it there.

The two anemone blooms are adding color to complement the little hyacinth that comes up in the same bed that is occupied by oregano 3/4 of the year. The oregano dies back every winter around the end of November. I wait until the end of January or the first part of February, and then I remove all the dead oregano twigs so the hyacinths have room to come up. I'm so pleased that the anemone have stuck around to join them. I think I've even got some volunteers from last year's Sorbet Mix violas that I planted to fill in the gaps. That would be a wonderful welcome addition too.

Another blue flower that's a favorite for me is the blue hyacinth. My hyacinths are early this year, but I don't mind. It's wonderful to have them here for Valentine's Day because they are a particularly romantic flower to both Hubby and me. We honeymooned in Victoria, British Columbia in late March back in 1998. Part of our visit included a tour of the famous Butchart Gardens. We found many of the beds to be chock full of hyacinths of every color you could imagine! The scent was absolutely heavenly as we strolled by each bed. We returned to Victoria for our 5 year anniversary and experienced that same wonderful display for our eyes as well as our noses. Now everytime the hyacinths come up in our front garden and we catch a whiff of their perfume, we fondly remember our honeymoon and all the wonderful romantic reasons why we fell in love and are still in love. Now you know why the hyacinth is a romantic flower for us.

And of course how could it possibly be a truly "golden afternoon" without my faithful garden companion Tom Tom joining me as I dig in the dirt. It couldn't be. That's why he came out and went on a "toot" while I worked in the garden. When it's this wonderful of a day it is a real chore getting him to come back inside. He doesn't want his "toot" to end--EVER! But I finally managed to catch him and get him back in the house--for which he received a little pile of Whisker Lickin's. Good boy, Tom Tom.