With Moonrise still for sale, there’s nothing on the boat so going for a sail is pretty much a pain in the you-know-what right now. We have to drag all our cold weather gear, food, etc, down there if we want to go out.  Between that and the fact that I’ve avoided going down to the boat since early January due to protecting my delicate lungs from the cold air, these last couple of weeks have been focused on the garden, the chickens, and the house in that order. Not much about sailing, alas, but that’s how it is. Interest in Moonrise is picking up as our weather gets better  (I did not say that out loud so any weather Gods need to just move along.) We are still hoping to find a new home for her and spend some months enjoying looking at boats. Or buying one. Who knows? No need to rush these things, apparently. I want to be able to enjoy the looking.

Be sure to look at the dog on the right.

So, in terms of fairies, here’s what the garden looks like from a fairy’s point of view. And here’s a photo that might just be of a fairy. Enlarge it and look at the dog on the right. (Photo is completely unaltered, taken by a friend at another gardener’s house a few years ago.)  Don’t know for sure what that thing is but it’s not a dragonfly, and we don’t have any insects that big up here except for dragonflies. (Which is a good thing because I do not like big insects, which gives me pause in terms of cruising some areas.) So you be the judge and if you believe in fairies, clap your hands with delight because all the Hellebores are in bloom. Here’s what my garden fairies see as they wander through their world. Grab a beverage and drink in the beauty that is Helleborus orientalis,, in all its many forms.

So delicate they are almost translucent.

From my ‘black flower’ period.

A wee petticoat, perhaps?

These petals would make the finest chemise.

More black. Always so classic, so basic.

A note about the above flower: Most of these hellebores come from Heronswood Garden, and not the one in Pennsylvania. I mean the real one, the original one right here in Washington State. That black hellebore above is one of a kind, part of the genetic stock they used to create new and different varieties. It doesn’t even have a name. Only a number. As a certified (or certifiable, depending on who you ask) plant geek, I will have to find a safe home for this plant if I leave the house behind. I’m sure it won’t be a problem since in Washington state gardening is a contact sport and the place is lousy with knowledgeable plants people.

A study in black(ish) and yellow.

And to prove I actually did buy just about anything black:

A little black mondo grass adds just the right texture and color to set off these little tulip leaves.

And a black leaved variety of Sambucus niger, the black elderberry. It has pink flowers. How can you beat that color combination? Glorious!

We have had an amazingly neutral winter so far, although I say this knowing full well that we have another 5 or so weeks before that Spring equinox. We could still get slammed.  Parts of the garden are beginning to show a little life, perhaps wondering if we might have an early spring. (We can only hope, since it’s been years since we had one.) If we are lucky, boating season will be upon us soon.

Meanwhile, we continue to nest in our home, watching chickens destroy what is supposed to be a lovely yard, and I begin to realize there is work to be done out there. So here are some photos from the winter garden, taken as I poked around considering the idea of actual physical work.

What could be lovelier than winter blooming Helleborus and our native sword fern?

Cyclamen and snowdrops, ephemeral harbingers of spring.

Winter shrubs.

Euphorbia rigida getting ready to make a nice showing against this silver leaved lavender.

Next project will be to contain the chickens to the wooded area, which is big enough for them to have plenty of room. At this point, they have the run of the entire yard. That’s not going to work when tender plants begin to emerge. They can keep the Virgin free of weeds.Oh, and the physical work? It lost out on that day. Best to have a little nap and read. I pretend to be a lady of leisure.

We’re on a forced hiatus from sailing here at the Little Cunning Plan household. Our son, Andrew (age 20), had his tonsils removed, along with a couple of other minor surgical procedures, and we’re in hospital mode around here. Since there’s that nasty risk of post-operative bleeding, as well as the use of narcotics to control pain, we’re tied to the house for awhile until he is healed. That means no one gets to go down to either Moonrise or Danger Kitten. They sit at the marina, waiting for attention and probably feeling unloved. We could not plan our yearly sailing trip until this surgery was over so now we can tentatively plan to leave on August 24. Moonrise is still for sale, so who knows? Maybe we’ll take her off the market for a couple of weeks just so we can be sure to have a vacation.

So I don’t completely neglect this blog while Andrew is recovering, here are some photos from the garden this year. This is the year I have discovered that the gardens do, indeed, grow lustily without much help from me. The hydrangeas and lilies are in lovely form this year.

Intoxicating lilies. Their fragrance is positively thick in the evening.

The Hot Bed.

Little native ground orchid that volunteers in a few places. It's very subtle and my camera certainly doesn't do it justice.

Hydrangeas in full bloom.

Love this combination! Japanese Forest Grass: one of the best plants ever.

Japanese anemones. Exuberant but lovely.