At long (way too long) last, the chickens will make their move from giant dog crates in the garage to the spiffy new “Coop DeVille” barely 30 feet away. The special order siding was delivered and installed, and I’m pretty delighted with the overall effect. It’s different from the house siding, but the stained cedar trim ties it in to the style of the house. From the chickens’ point of view, the best part might be the 6′ fenced yards on either side of the coop, so they can scratch for bugs and leaves without risking their relative safety, since the neighborhood has resident fox, coyote, skunk and exuberant domestic dogs.

There’s a little bit of finish work to do inside today before the pullets bed down for the night. I have to paint their roost ladder and make some progress on the nest boxes. No one has started laying eggs yet, but it could happen any day. In fact, I ordered egg collection baskets yesterday so we’ll be ready.

Above is the big yard. The fenced area on the other side is smaller, but big enough to alternate with this one, or we can open both areas at once. Inside, there are several bars for the hens to roost on at night, two feeders, a five-gallon waterer and a space for six nestboxes.

Trouble gets the honor of being the first to explore her new digs.

Rhoda, Vera and Rosie are among the first to discover the roost bar against the back wall of the coop. Soon all the chickens were playing follow the leader.

The rest of the crew checks out the bedding of pine shavings and straw. They flung it this way and that, nestled into it, and tried their best to scatter it. It didn’t go very far — a new benefit of four solid walls.

I’d been nagging my husband to trim the yews out front. They were overgrown, I said. They engulfed our poor little house, I said.

He said what he usually says: Uh-huh.
(Uh-huh, I’ve discovered, is Husbandspeak for “. . . wonder how the Twins did last night?”)

But suddenly this weekend, he started pruning. And pruning. And pruning. He didn’t stop until he had pruned the upright yews into gigantic lollipops . . . And the the low-growing yew? Well, that was pruned right out of existence. Our house is no longer engulfed. Now it’s buck naked! It looks blank, exposed . . . like my forehead when my mom gave me my bad, back-to-school bang trim.

To my credit, I didn’t gasp when I saw the naked forehead of my house. Nor did I grab the car keys and head straight for Bachmans. Since it’s hot as hades and not the best time in the world to plant, I decided to leave my house exposed for a bit and actually PLAN before I plant.

And that’s where you come in. I’m looking for ideas. This is prime, east-facing real estate with lots of morning sun and sweet afternoon shade. I’ve got some tall grasses (Calamagrostis x acutiflora ‘Karl Foerster’) that I’m going to divide come spring and transplant there. But other than that, it’s a blank slate.

So, gardeners, got some shrub suggestions?

Who knew that one packet of seeds could provide YEARS of blooms?

No, this is not PhotoShop tomfoolery. These blooms just glow from the inside out.

Okay, now I’ve crossed the line. It’s a Nelson Heirloom! My greatest gardening thrill ever!

(Eh hem… Sorry, Connie.)

So what’s your story, morning glory? It this vigorous vine a garden fav or a garden foe? Did you fall in love with a particular variety or do you curse they day you sowed the seeds of trouble?

I decided to try to grow sweet potatoes this year. I think they were offered by the company from which I ordered some onion sets, and I thought what the heck. I don’t really like sweet potatoes, but my partner does, and I was game to try something new.

One day this spring, some scraggly little stems showed up in a box on my doorstep. Fortunately, the sheet of instructions offered this reassurance:

“Plants will succeed even if they are yellow, slimey (sic) and have an odor that almost unbearable.”

Wow. Who knew! That got me reading the rest of the instructions, which included a lot of strange words in quotes (i.e. ‘Nutritious “homegrowns” for your family,’ and ‘Use care in “digging” your potatoes’ and illogical statements like “Successful Sweet Potato Growing is very interesting. Some gardeners have excellent results…others only fair but in general all gardeners follow these directions in some fashion.” That left me scratching my head.

But my very favorite thing in the folded sheet full of rah-rah cheers for the marvelous sweet potato was the promise that harvesting my Big “Jumbo” size potatoes would be my most exciting garden experience ever. That sent me into spasms of laughter.
Well, it’s not harvest time, so it could be right. Though I’m not sure that says much about me as a gardener if it turns out to be true. Can gardening be so deadly dull that sweet potatoes reign as the top thrill?

Which brings me to today’s question. What’s your biggest gardening thrill? Don’t want to admit you thought it was thrilling? How about your gardening high points (at least until you plant sweet potatoes)?

My name is Jaime — and I weed planters and beds in public spaces.

No, I don’t carry a pair of gardening gloves everywhere I go. But, I do pluck a weed — or two — from public planters as I wait for the bus, walk to work or stand in line for a show. With gardening on the brain, I simply can’t stop myself until the first frost.

I confess this because I know other gardeners MUST guilty of the same trespass.

Do you pull an unsightly sprout from a bed of annuals outside your office? Pluck a brown leaf or two from a sad shrub on your lunch break? Fantasize about removing suckers from the trees on you boulevard? Please tell me that I’m not alone!