Monday morning I went to the dump and got 6 or so bins of compost--all that could fit in my hatchback. It sure is BLACK. Wow. God save the city of Lincoln and their free compost.
Then I moved 3 shrubs and planted 5: mostly planted some viburnum like winterthur, brandywine, and blue muffin (no botanical names for you). Also planted an ivory halo red twig dogwood. I do believe I need a pollinator yet for blue muffin. Winterthur and brandywine, both nudums, should work for each other if they bloom in sync--blue muffin looks like it'll bloom by May, much further ahead. I am so very sore today. I'm 31 for Pete Sampras' sake, but I did forget to stretch before planting, which I used to be religious about.
Then there's a pic of an October Glory maple thingy doing its thingy, and ninebark 'coppertina' has new coppery-yellow leaves. Angelina Jolie sedum looks good, too--that's what I call it now. I'm putting this post up today somewhat frantically in order to divert myself from general and specific anxieties--but you know, whenever it's windy outside (30-50mph today), I always feel more anxious anyway. Why is that? What does wind do, or mean, or say to me to create such a response? What resonance is this in me? Who or what is out of tune, or too in tune? Why can't it snow? I always feel calm when it snows.
