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Hope–and spring–springs eternal
It’s spring–really spring this time, not just the spring the calendar declares on March 20th or 21st, which usually isn’t springlike at all here. I write about my garden every now and then, as you may...
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Neo-neocon at war
It’s confession time. My name is neo-neocon, and I’m a warmonger. Not only have I declared war, but I’m deriving some pleasure from killing. But don’t get me wrong. It’s not total war; I’m saving the...
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Almost-fall garden interlude
When I moved to my present house I inherited a perennial garden. That wasn’t my main concern. Just having a marginally affordable place to live was the important thing, because I managed to buy my...
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Garden, late fall
Those of you who follow this blog know that when I bought my house I bought the responsibility of gardening, and I’ve tried to step up to the plate and do right by it. I’ve posted photos of the garden...
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Wintertime and the gardening is easy
Taken just a moment ago: The post Wintertime and the gardening is easy appeared first on The New Neo.
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Weather: housebound
We’re having one of those wretched winter storms in the far northeast, giving those of you who are not living here the opportunity to crow and tell me how much nicer it is where you are. Be my guest. I...
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Garden pride
This is the time of garden hope and burgeoning garden pride. It’s the honeymoon when everything is going well and the bugs haven’t arrived yet for their tasty meals, nor has the drought browned and...
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My late bloomer
I don’t have much of a green thumb with houseplants. There are some varieties I gave up on long ago—the Boston fern, for instance. A fern in the dry heat of a northeastern home in winter requires a...
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New England springs to life
New England is known for its glorious autumns. But spring’s no slouch either, as I was reminded once again yesterday (as though I needed reminding) on a brief visit to Boston. The trees were in full...
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Lilac time
I live in an area of the country lilacs love. This time of year when I take my walks, it seems that every few yards I pass tall lilac bushes loaded with blossoms. Their fragrance hits me before I even...
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