Today’s post was to focus on fêting everyone who contributed to the icehouse rehabilitation. More accurately I intended to announce a gathering that will take place in a few weeks to celebrate all who collaborated and conspired, all who labored, and all who otherwise helped shepherd this long anticipated project from quirky conception through shining showpiece. And while I did work on that announcement today, I’ve made a quick change. When circumstance invite us to be nimble, I try to oblige. So instead today’s dispatch celebrates Monday miscellanea that might otherwise have been overlooked. The common denominator? Terrific Teddi!
Let’s start with the Vinca ground cover border defining the perimeter of the icehouse terrace.
When, at last, our periwinkle plants arrived, Teddi’s team tucked them into the sun warmed soil, and we waited…
For the last few weeks, intermittent rain, and (until recently) hot, humid weather woke up the dormant periwinkle transplants. They’ve been experiencing explosive growth ever since…
With plenty of growing time ahead this season, I think we can successfully fine-tune this terrace-to-flowerbed border by “haircuttting” the wayward periwinkle and filling in the gaps as needed with layering and re-rooting cuttings. (Source: Wayward Periwinkle)
Today was the day for a Vinca haircut! And Teddi overdelivered, taming the unruly evergreen vines, and redefining the border. As she worked, an idea occurred to her.
I’m not sure this is the correct vinca. I think it’s vinca major which is an annual. It doesn’t look like vinca minor. The leaves are much larger and a lighter color and when I cut it it releases milk like a euphorbia… The ID app I use also identified it as vinca major. It’s not 100% but pretty accurate. — Teddi Rogers
When not blooming, it’s somewhat difficult to tell Vinca minor from Vinca major. It’s mostly a question of scale (and sometimes blossom color). Teddi’s idea prompted me to review the auction when/where I sourced the ground cover. The seller listed the seedlings at Vinca minor, and she has thousands of sales, is a top-tier seller, and a quick scan of her feedback didn’t offer any cause for skepticism. She’d seem an unlikely candidate for a bait-and-switch. We’ll know for sure next spring because Vinca major, a perennial in warmer climates, would unlikely survive the winter this far north. So if everything is dead next spring, we can draw a “major masquerading as minor” conclusion. Time will tell.
I did take a closer look at the Vinca and compared it to Periwinkle (Vinca minor) that is well established in front of Rosslyn and along our waterfront terraces. And you know what? Teddi might be right!
Speaking of Rosslyn’s waterfront, Teddi and I met for a strategy chat about the Wintercreeper (Euonymus fortunei) that, in her words, had gone “full animal” north of the waterfront stairway. We inherited this aggressive evergreen when we purchased Rosslyn back in 2006, and despite persistent management, it occasionally gets the upper hand. The last couple of years it’s been winning, overtaking the locust tree, a pair of rhododendron shrubs, and a healthy stand of lilacs. Teddi decided it was time for some discipline.
Teddi’s before and after photos show her progress, and her junglesque closeup illustrates the vine ascending the locust trunk.
To balance these glimpses of aggressive invasive flora, let’s transition to a gentler and more beautiful perspective. I return to the icehouse flowerbeds for a late August celebration of blooms and greens.
Now for a more meditative reflection on Monday miscellanea, I offer you an intimate glimpse into the blossom of one of the Gladiola that have been blooming for a couple of weeks.
As I compose this post from the icehouse deck a hummingbird buzzes between these blossoms, then veers off toward the vegetable garden where poppies, nasturtiums, and zinnias beckon colorfully.
And I will leave you with two final vignettes, the first, textured tufts of ornamental grass overarching garapa decking, and the second, a Shasta daisy and its shadow. Both of these soothing snapshots offer subtle invitations to slow down, to contemplate the textures and shadow play, to recalibrate deadlines and expectations,…
What do you think?