These petunias over-wintered magnificently. They didn't actually do much last summer when I planted them, most likely because I didn't water them enough. They stopped flowering in September, but the leaves showed no sign of dying, so I left them. Am I ever glad I did because in March they burst into bloom. That lavender mass is all one plant, honest!

The concrete well is a legacy from the previous owners. It wasn't much good to plant in — too hot in the summer, waterlogged in the winter. So instead I've planted around it, including a Graham Thomas rose that I'm training over it. There's a clematis on the far side in what seems to be a perpetual state of limbo. I thought it would be such a clever spot for one, feet in the shade, head in the sun, just like the experts recommend. Well, it hasn't died yet, but I can't say I've noticed much growth in 3 years either. The rose, on the other hand, will soon be covered with nodding clusters of golden yellow roses (which are reputed to be fragrant, though I'd like to hear from other Graham Thomas owners on that subject).

I grew up in Minnesota and my favorite time of spring was when the lilacs bloomed. My first spring here I bought a sprig of lilac for some ridiculous price from a flower vendor in San Francisco, just to be able to smell it. They're hard to grow here because most lilacs require a longer, colder winter than they can get in San Jose. But Lavender Lady was bred for this climate. In fact, the silly thing tried to bloom in November, after a short cool snap was followed by a brief warm spell! "Short winter," it must have thought to itself, "But that's life in California." The cold rain in December and January halted it again, tips of lavender peeking out, until the more appropriate month of March when it produced these profuse, wonderfully-scented bouquets. Ahhhh! And it's only two years old! Good little lilac!

This tree peony was only planted in February, which is why it's bearing an enormous 6" flower on a mere 15" high stem. The only problem with this glorious cranberry color is that, well, it was supposed to be deep lavender! Guess I'll just have to plant another one. Twist my arm a little harder, won't you?

These are called tree peonies because they have woody stems, as opposed to the more common, herbaceous kind that die back every year. They seem to have been popular in Japan because all the cultivars have Japanese names. I saw one growing in Menlo Park once that the owners said was at least 15 years old. It had come with the house but was in front of the garden wall, so it got no extra care and still bloomed faithfully every year. Sounds like my kind of plant. (And it was the lavender color I covet too!)

Oh yes, the "even some to eat" part. Nearly forgot about that. I haven't taken any pictures yet of the edible flowers I currently have blooming, like nasturtiums, chives, and roses. I want to point out though, that edible does not necessarily mean palatable, a nice distinction I picked up from a mushroom field guide. A number of articles on edible flowers fail to mention that many, in fact, are rather bitter. I went around one day last summer and tasted every rose that I had in bloom and can confidently report that Rosa Rugosa Magnifica has a lovely, sweet flavor, and the rest should be used for color, IMHO. To be fair, I should mention that I often find raddicchio unpleasantly bitter, which many people enjoy in salads. In any case, let the lotus eater beware.