You, Martha Stewart:

[NOTE: I would like to write a full-on parody of the Archibald MacLeish poem "You Andrew Marvell," because that's how I feel about you, the people. You deserve that kind of effort. But I'm not going to do it, because I am tired. So instead, I'm going to rave on about a hilarious and awful thing Martha talked about in the November issue of Living. Which I bought. Because I don't know why. Thanksgiving? Anyway:]

Dear Martha,

Thanks for the awesome recipes for Central European desserts, and the variations on a classic shortbread recipe, and, moreover, the variations on the classic caramel recipe, which I have been using for years. I got that recipe from another issue of Living, like, five years ago. The recipe has served me very well, and for that, I thank you, Martha.

Generally, I like the idea of you and your aspirational domesticity. Do you like to collect milkware? and old tin pudding molds? and all manner of ancient whatnot? Well, good for you, Martha. Someone needs to save that stuff, and make it awesome like it never was. Flea markets everywhere rejoice because of you!

Now: when I read that you were making tents for your boxwoods and peonies, I thought...well, frankly, I thought it was kind of crazy. I have some plants I love, but evidently I don't love them as much as you love yours. Then I read this sentence:

"I cannot recall where I first got the idea of tailoring coverings for certain types of plants (and even for garden planters), but we have been wrapping and sewing and protecting woody things like boxwood, tree peonies, clematis, azaleas, and many types of immature plants for a long time now."

This is accompanied by a photo shoot of sculptural looking pieces in the out of doors, wrapped snugly in burlap and stitched like a cross between the muslin mockup of an haute couture gown and a Christo installation. Evidently, Martha, your upstate New York farm is populated by burlap ghosts, all winter long. But good for you, Martha. You love those boxwoods and peonies. Protect away.

Then I read this sentence:

"I have a great group of talented groundskeepers, and each has developed his or her own techniques and methods and improved upon our system, adding flair and even beauty to the winter landscape."

So there you go. A great group, and so talented. Flair! in the winter landscape!

Off I go to buy burlap in bulk,

htms

The evidence.

Singing son and his business partner have been helping me execute my garden plan. I, too, did some work planting herbs and flowers in all the pots, big and little, I've installed in the flower beds. See for yourself:











New flowers and herbs in the pots.











New topiary form, not quite installed yet;
clematis; all the new plantings; new mulch!











Same thing, different angle.











The lavender, rosemary, lavender,
rosemary, etc., border.

Botany.

Today we planted

• four new rose bushes: Mister Lincoln, a classic red; Falling in Love, a beautiful pink; Elle and Fragrant Cloud, both salmon-colored.
  
• four scented geraniums.
• a dozen lavender plants and ten rosemary plants.
• ten lemon verbena plants.
• some ornamental grass.
• piles of nicotiana--white and pink.
• some single petaled marigolds.

Tomorrow, we'll plant

• cosmos.
• transplanted cornflowers.
• a couple more roses, probably.
• hollyhocks.
• coreopsis.
• etc.

Maybe sometime soon I'll plant some tomatoes and some basil. It's time, isn't it?