I have ES growing in 2 different places: one is on the Notrh-East side of the house and another one is on the West-facing side. And they are so different that almost feels like 2 different varieties. This is how ES from West side looks like (it is smaller, leaves are somewhat paler, but blooms reliably every year): And this is my ES from the Notrh-East side. In fact , these are 3 hydrangeas planted in a row. They are much taller, with dark-green leaves and have fewer flowers between three of them than the one growing on the West side. Also, their flowers are mostly hidden in the foliage. These ones get more attention than their sister: they get fertilized with liquid 20-20-20 at least once a month, while the one above gets a handful of granular fertilizer in spring and thatâÂÂs it: This post was edited by green_go on Sat, Jul 26, 14 at 22:24

This year for the first time I put a ripped hunk of cotton blue jean material into a compost pile. Mostly as a curiousity, to see how long it takes to rot. Sometimes you just can't even use stuff as rags, it is so worn out. Don't know how nutritious it is, but that was one of the first really startling things I learned on gardenweb, that you can compost cotton clothing! Just something most people wouldn't think of on their own. Read a great paraphrased line in a book today, "Some are born weird, some achieve it, others have weirdness thrust upon them." Describes us here pretty well, doesn't it? (Quote from Dick Francis.) Speaking of weird: Blutranes, I wish you wouldn't, every year or so, tell me that I am compromising the health of my family by not buying organic soil amendments and hence having faulty nutrition. Then when I ask about it, you say, oh, you are organic, I don't want to argue with you. If you are going to make such BIZARRE claims about the health of my family related to eating our organic produce, then I expect some facts in return. I am a smart person, and I used to teach chemistry, physics, math, and computer science. I have both a B.S. and an M.S. from a college of engineering, so you are free to use big words in your explanation. I assure you that I will understand any actual facts and data. Marcia

Well, me too, and it's certainly more interesting, all right. Yesterday an extremely nice and competent guy with a track hoe and a bobcat, who understood most of what I was asking for and very efficiently delivered, and I, who also understood only most of what I was asking for and only somewhat the consequences of asking for any of it at all, combined to resculpt the slopes immediately around our new house. This morning I'm both delighted and a bit shocked with what I have. Not that it's bad, if the beech survives. In fact, the new view leading the eye down and across a gentle slope to a stop at what will be a little pool of lawn is going to be lovely some day. It's just that, with big machines involved, a little lack of clarity can result in a distinctly different outcome than expected. And fast. I do now have to plant so that visitors can't misstep off their path and tumble into the pool, but, creamgogo, you're absolutely right. All this newly level dirt is pleasing to the eye already and I am certainly amazed.

I love those huge dinner plate sized flowers! Our old house had one of those fancy bird houses with the copper roofs (PO put it in by the gazebo) and it had a white and a purple clematis climbing up it, it was really beautiful. We have a more tailored look here, I guess, for lack of a better word. Sometimes I miss the perennial garden but I never, ever tire of this lovely green! You are on for coffee :-) Note to mtnredux: the blue heron thats been stalking our grass carp --- country cousin to the more glamorous koi----- finally caught and ate him on the banks of the pond. The skeleton was almost three feet long, I guess the result of feeding on yummy grass clippings for 15 years... The head was the size of a small cantelope! Buzzards finished him off as soon as the heron left. We are going to have to get another one, but nothing can replace our old St. Thomas, as he was called. The POs used to catch him and throw him back, I was beginning to think he was immortal. Our pond is about 12 feet deep... Watch out for those new fish!