The last days of summer

Fall is coming, and the Potager is winding down. My crazy schedule this year combined with the weather made a less than successful gardening year. I never got all my fall garden plants in on schedule.  The gardener in me says, next year, next year,...there's always next year.

My lack of produce has sent me to local farm markets that I might not have otherwise visited. I found this cute little sign in a clearance bin for $3.00 at one market.

I got this Crimson Pygmy Barberry for $5.00 at another. The owner thanked me for rescuing a left-over perennial. We had one in the front of the house that hubby removed. I always missed that plant. Now I have my own by the perennial garden. I was a bit disappointed to learn that the birds don't eat the berries. I guess the taste isn't worth the thorns!

I also got this in a perennial sale shelf for $5.00. It had no tag and the gal at the cash register had no idea what it was or how big it would get. I'll give it a try in the perennial bed and see what happens.

Of course while I was at the farm stands I had to get some mums. I had taken out the overgrown cosmos a few weeks back. I also want to plant tulip bulbs in here. Hopefully the squirrels won't find the bulbs here and they'll be safe from the deer in the fall. The strawberry beds I put in last spring are very full of plants. I am looking forward to home grown strawberries this spring!

And to add just a bit more color in the Potager, I bought a purple hose! Of course, with all the rain we've had lately, the hose has just been sitting there as a decorative contrast to the marigolds, but the thin lightweight design should be helpful next spring.
These pops of beauty help hide the fact that the garden has lost some of it's charm. There are large empty spots reserved for fall crops that never were planted. The squash and the zinnias have been infected with powdery mildew and their days are numbered. The sunflowers look like giant shower heads bowing down over the garden and will also be taken down soon.  I sit in it and take notes of what worked and what didn't and what I will do next year.  Next year, next year...there's always next year!
 "But now in September the garden has cooled, and with it my possessiveness.  The sun warms my back instead of beating on my head ... The harvest has dwindled, and I have grown apart from the intense midsummer relationship that brought it on."
-  Robert Finch