Time to chop

The hollyhocks are done. See, there’s one lone pink one up at the top and the rest have all finished blooming and gone to seed. The leaves are all rusty and nasty looking.

Remember what it looked like before?

Now there’s a big bare spot, but maybe the liatris that I found under the hollyhock can have half a chance to grow. It’s survival of the fittest in the front bed. The amur maple was leaning on the hollyhock, and the hollyhock was shoving the Russian Sage out of the bed, so now equilibrium has been restored.

What remains of the giant hollyhock.

And speaking of giants, the common mullein grew 8 feet tall this summer. That doesn’t bode well for the coming winter. If local lore is to be believed, as the mullein grows, so goes the snow. Deer browse the tips of mullein during heavy snowfalls in the mountains and plains so the mullein must grow tall enough to stand above the winter’s snow. Actually we got blasted with snow this past winter and last year’s mullein only got about four feet tall. So much for that old folktale.

Here’s the mullein – the giant spire to the right of the arch. The finches picked all the seeds off the top, so like leftovers at the dinner table, I got rid of it.

Speaking of dinner, I finally got a tomato. Doesn’t look like I’ll have many more so I’m darned proud of this one. Especially considering I don’t really remember watering it more than a few times. It has those dark splits at the top but there’s enough juicy tomato below so that a BLT is on the menu for tonight. Time to slice.