‘Tis the Season

Mar23

Last weekend there was a snowdrop brunch here. That sounds kind of fancy but in reality it wasn’t, even if we did use real plates instead of paper. I owed my friend Kevin for helping out at the Gala, and thought breakfast would be a good start, but when he already had plans with another friend who just happens to be Kimberley of Cosmos and Cleome I thought let me invite them both. I had been cleaning up the garden all week, and the lure of food might be my best chance at getting someone other than the dog to look at a few snowdrops with me, so the three of us made plans and another name was suggested, two more people were added, and when someone offered to bring a dessert I had to rename our breakfast to brunch since you know you can’t have a dessert after only eating a few scrambled eggs. Plus I wanted to sleep in of course, and not everyone wants breakfast at 11.

‘Blonde Inge’ is a dainty little snowdrop with the added touch of a yellow mark inside. Sometimes the inner glow makes the whole bloom shine but I’m sure that’s just my imagination.

The brunch went well. I believe with the exception of a horribly weak second cup of coffee which I tried to pass off as drinkable, everyone found a bite to eat and something interesting to talk about and the time passed a little to quickly. I got nervous. What if all these people just came here to hang out and eat and no one wants to freeze outside, crawling from snowdrop to snowdrop admiring how different each and every one is and what kind of history it has and how tricky it is to grow and does it multiply well and where did I get it from and…

A ‘Blonde Inge’ seedling. Very similar to mom, but oh so much more amazing because she was born here in this garden.

Eventually I passed out coats and people took the hint. I had fun. People looked cold. Not everyone seemed to care about how ‘Wisley Magnet’ differed from ‘Foxgrove Magnet’, so I think pancakes will still be required to get them back again, but from my perspective it seemed so much healthier to finally be seen talking to other people in the garden rather than myself. I hinted at food and another visit for daffodils and people seemed open to the idea so hopefully with any luck this wasn’t a one and done deal.

Green tipped ‘Viridapice’ with a flush of yellow winter aconite. I know I show these way too often but this is probably my favorite mix of late winter color.

My favorite comment of the day was something to the effect of ‘What the F*&k Frank, how do you have so much flowering!?’ and generally people had other nice things to say as well, but to my shock not everyone wanted to look at each and every clump, and it was more of a yellow vs green, that one is so much larger, and oh look a double, conversations. So rather than find all new friends who will probably eat just as much I’ll just babble on to you about a few of my favorites for this year… and try and not repeat all the favorites which show up as my ‘maybe favorites’ every other year. Key word there is “try”.

A newer snowdrop for me, galanthus ‘Greenfields’ is completely boring and average, but perfectly formed and sturdy and crisply colored with dark green marks on a good sized and pristinely white flower.

Several snowdrops have come up paler this year, including ‘Ivy Cottage Corporal’. Before people began seeing faces in their snowdrops, the people at Ivy Cottage saw the insignia marks for the rank of corporal in this drop.

‘Dick’s Early Yellow’ is just that, and an excellent grower as well.

Last season ‘Midas’ barely bothered with yellow, choosing green instead but this year the color is closer to gold. Brighter days perhaps?

I think of galanthus ‘Elizabeth Harrison’ as an aristocrat amongst snowdrops. She’s a little delicate and can be fussy, but when everything is going her way the bright yellow and white against grass-green foliage strikes me as quite elegant.

Galanthus ‘EA Bowles’ is amazingly beautiful but died off on me a few years ago. Fortunately a friend was able to give me another start and now he’s settled back in and doing well. Good thing, since my friend went on to lose her clump and now hopefully I can share a piece back again this summer.

As American as a snowdrop can get, ‘Carol Simcoe’ was found in a wild population around Allentown Pa and was introduced by Gerald Simcoe and named after the artist’s mother.

In the 1940’s Heyrick Greatorex named a group of doubles which some people seek out. My favorite is ‘Cordelia’ with her long-lasting, sturdy and upright flowers, but the others which I grow may or may not be the true forms, and may or may not be as favored.

For no reason other than my own curiosity, I’m excited about this entirely average snowdrop seedling. The potential mom is behind and I thought she never sets seed but along comes a seedling which shares her long, narrow ovary but with bigger flowers and wider leaves. I think they’re related and I think I like the mix.

So I think I did fairly well there with minimal babbling and maximum efficiency and I also think that summary reflects my whole snowdrop season in general this year. It was too cold, then it became too warm, and for the last week too windy and too stormy. The warmth pushed everything along in some spots but barely thawed the soil in others. The wind made snowdrop viewing uncomfortable and some strong rain beat up a few things even more, but in between there were still a few perfect moments and that’s all I ask.

The first flowers of the Dutch hybrid crocus always signals the downside of the snowdrop season. The garden will be nonstop from now on!

I hope your season is reving up and full of promise as well, and that it brings you joy. For a few days yet everything seems under control and so well planned, but then the tidal wave of weeds, weather, and watering hits and there’s barely a moment to breath, and if you end up there stop. Make sure you have time to breath and enjoy. I shall be doing that today… unless of course I shovel and move a few tons of dirt to level some dips in the lawn next door which will then need seeding and watering and then perhaps I’ll get to my own back lawn which has plenty of spots which need to be a few inches higher and will also need a couple tons of dirt spread and then I probably have to run out for more grass seed and the first box of ordered plants is sitting on the porch steps… and well… *breath*

Here Comes the Sun

Mar10

What a beautiful weekend. A little windy, a little cold… actually if you went by the commentary which followed nearly everyone’s observation on me working outside you would say it was a frigid weekend… but it was perfect. I cleaned up the front yard, it looks amazing in my opinion but others do not like all the autumn leaves which mulch the street bed. Okay maybe it looks a bit messy and they could have been mulched a little more, but if that’s what’s distracting you after weeks of frozen soil and cold winds well then I can’t help you. Color is back and I’m ready to enjoy.

Some of the first snowdrop plantings here have matured nicely. This is a favorite spot along the front of the house and the shelter from the wind brings everything on a little earlier.

‘Straffan’ in front and ‘Brenda Troyle’ in back. Also a sheltered spot, right up against the porch. Normally ‘Straffan’ is a little later, but I guess this year everyone is anxious for spring.

The rabbits have been caught off guard and didn’t realize the first crocus (‘Tatra Shades’) are ready and waiting. They should find them by tomorrow.

Hamamelis ‘Barmstedt Gold’ is amazing this spring. I might need to collect even more witch hazels 🙂

The driveway soaks up the sun’s warmth and keeps this bed warm enough to bring on a full flush of snowdrops and winter aconite. Cyclamen coum are on the way as well!

The winter aconite in this bed are a mix of the straight species Eranthis hiemalis, plus pale yellow ‘Lightning’ (which is already starting to look tired), and the faded yellow of ‘Schwefelglanz’. I love them all.

The newer snowdrop plantings need to fight for their space. This Dryad Gold snowdrop was planted a little too close to the giant reed grass patch, and I’ll need an axe and a pick to free up the delicate little thing.

‘Bloomer’. I’m showing this just because none of them sold at the gala and it’s one of my absolute favorites. On the plus side I replanted the unsold ones as a second clump, and perhaps next year will be their year!

So that was a hit and run post. I don’t think anyone will miss me prattling on about all kinds of nonsense and I wanted to get these photos up before I take another twenty or two hundred tomorrow! Enjoy your week 🙂

The Recap

Mar8

So what can I say? David Culp’s Gala was fun. Great seeing people excited about snowdrops, talking way too much about snowdrops, amazing lectures about snowdrops, and in general excited about the new gardening year. Selling went well. I was remarkably okay with seeing snowdrops leave my garden, somewhat insulted that a few favorites didn’t sell, and then just fine with bringing a bunch home for replanting. But… I was unusually luke-warm to new purchases and plant shopping in general. For the first time ever I tried to come back with more money in my pocket than when I went down, and in hindsight that was a terrible mindset since there were only 5 new snowdrops for the return trip and now I have to sit for months with only five new snowdrops when I really think all that work should have earned me dozens of new snowdrops!

And for the first year ever I didn’t treat myself to a new ‘Brandywine Hybrids’ hellebore. They were perfect, and seeing the others in the garden starting to stir to life makes the regret even harsher.

Each year the Gala hellebores are amazing. After years of coveting doubles I’m back to singles and any of the picotees or the purple stained whites could have easily joined me for the ride home.

I was distracted though. Maybe even stressed? The day worked out perfectly, but to be honest I woke up at 1 that morning sick to my stomach and got to enjoy that feeling right up to the minutes before the doors opened.. .and then in typical fashion it lifted right as the excitement began.

A few seconds after the doors opened. Tables are full, hands are empty, there’s little socializing but some real intense table scanning! Fyi this is the Suburban Home Nursery table, manned by the always entertaining Kevin and my exceedingly competent cashier-daughter.

Also in typical fashion I took next to no pictures. Just like every other year I’ll apologize and promise better but I think we know the truth, and it’s probably for the best too since 10 out of 10 family members will only use me as the last resort when it comes to any type of event photo. “ugh, just delete them all. Where’s mom?” should be a warning/reminder sticker on the back of my phone.

Edgewood Gardens warming up and coloring up with Adonis amurensis

I think it was mentioned that rather than work my own table, I had already committed to working the Edgewood table for the Gala, and a perk to this was a leisurely tour of Edgewood Gardens the day before. The week of above freezing weather had paid off. Things were embracing the weather and bursting out of the ground and starting off on that spring flush of color. Hellebores, winter aconite, Adonis, witch hazels, crocus… and of course snowdrops were scattered throughout the garden. At one point I was even unsupervised, and the low light, flowers, and bird song were enough to make me want to soak up the moment rather than consider what might fit into my pocket.

The best clump of ‘Blewbury Tart’ I’ve ever seen. How silly of me to have given this plant a lukewarm review years ago, I should have known it was more my growing skills and not the drop.

To round it out it was an excellent weekend. I was almost tempted to return this weekend for the Bend to Bank lecture at Winterthur, and hear Anne Repnow give a talk, but alas it might be time to spend a weekend at home. Trust me there’s plenty to do.

A coldframe inspection at Edgewood Gardens. Quite a few treasures here, both inside and out!

Will I do what needs to be done? Probably, if I can only get started. Last night was spent browsing houseplants on some fraudulent website, and then this morning I had to spend time canceling my credit card and getting it re-issued, but honestly entertaining the dog and cleaning the kitchen took more time than that. The garden is still waiting 🙂

A terrible picture of winter aconite (Eranthis) opening up alongside the snowdrops. I love these first cautious blooms.

So blog post done, maybe breakfast and a shower wouldn’t be the worst ideas either, and then maybe it’s time for a little work outside. Just because I stayed home to get things done doesn’t mean it will happen!

Enjoy your weekend, and prepare for the onslaught of even more snowdrop photos while I second guess the witch hazel and primulas which I also did not buy last weekend. Grrr.

A Weekend in Spring

Apr15

So I guess it’s officially spring in my neck of the woods. People were cutting grass, washing cars, and of course I was even busier than ever wandering around checking on the same plants again and again. Sunday was warm and between the first tour in the am and the last tour in the pm things had moved ahead more than you would think. Fortunately I was there to keep an eye on things 😉

Narcissus ‘Pistachio’ is one of my favorites with its glowingly pale yellow blooms on short, wind-steady stalks.

I did not wash the car in case you’re wondering, but in between garden wandering, I did have to endure track meets, ferry the child to some parties and then endure a Sunday morning college visit. Fortunately the visit was local and just a twenty minute drive, but between hearing tuition payment options and filing the taxes the night before it was a good thing the weather turned nice so I could escape to the garden…. until we had an April thunderstorm roll through… more rain was not what we needed.

‘Vulcan’ is a bright daffodil, even brighter with the cool temperatures of the previous week.

So I guess this post is bound to be as aimless as my weekend wanderings but with the weather turning warm the garden will move ahead rapidly, and these pictures from Friday evening will be stale old news if I dawdle any longer so here’s a post. I’m hoping I’m not the only one who falls behind this time of year?

The new colchicum bed is already nearly overwhelmed with colchicums and other things. I was a good boy for dividing and replanting, but now do I possibly have too many?

If you remember, last year things in this garden were focused on earth moving, and this year it’s the second step of the process, mainly making it look nice. The garden doesn’t always look nice, and often veers into the messy lane, and for this year that won’t fly. There is a girl turning sixteen and a boy graduating High School and both parties are planned to happen this summer and in this garden.

The last raw scars of earthmoving are beginning to fade with a new planting bed and new lawn coming up. I have until mid June to clean up the edges and pretty up the plantings.

I knew this was coming, so now with the date picked I have to focus on having something nice in the yard for the party days. Right now I’m envisioning yellowing and dying tulip and daffodil foliage, alongside weedy oxeye daisies and an overgrown meadow garden, and although that might be interesting I’m quite sure I shouldn’t mention it to the bosses. Somehow I have to dig all the tulips and get something nice into the beds all within a couple weeks, and no one seemed the tiniest bit flexible when I said that August would be a nicer time for a graduation party or maybe a sweet sixteen plus two months party.

The tulips are coming on fast, but this bed is showing a lot of the fungal infection called ‘tulip fire’ (spotty leaves and twisted growth). They are the same bulbs which are planted elsewhere but in this bed they’re suffering and I think I need to give the soil a break from tulips.

If worse comes to worse I’ll just chop the tulips and plant coleus everywhere. There’s always a backup plan but I’d be lost in August without a bunch of trays filled with curing tulip bulbs so hopefully the weather and work schedule can make it happen. Tulips are worth it. If you thought snowdrops were bad, prepare for tulips, but fortunately during tulip season there are a billion other things to do so this blogger can’t really go on like he does in March.

Mixed Darwin tulips in yet another ‘new’ bed. They were opening up by the end of Sunday and I’m anticipating a dazzling display by the end of the week.

Things may turn stressful. I’ve got a party to plant for and here I am questioning if I have too many colchicums or tulips or snowdrops and where would I grow more tulips if I clear them out of the potager to give the soil a rest, and why don’t I have too many or even enough daffodils and I wonder if I could grow those in the potager beds and dig them for summer and….

I think it’s just that time of year. There are so many plans and for a little while they haven’t been screwed up yet, and for at least another two or three more weeks I can imagine that it’s going to be a perfect season. Even if it isn’t though it’s still better than January, right?

Corydalis Solida

Apr2

There was a time when spring blooming bulb lists and catalogs wouldn’t show up until late summer. The obsessed would have orders in the mail before heading out to the beach again, but the more sensible would dillydally with other distractions until that first chilly afternoon got them thinking about planting up for the next season. It was a logical model. Most spring blooming bulbs are dug in the summer and who has the time to count bulbs, set prices, and send out a catalog when you have acres of tulips to dig? But times change, and these days the bulb merchants are perhaps willing to take a bit of a gamble on prices and harvests, and know gardeners are at their weakest now when the cold of winter is still fresh in our minds and a hillside of daffodils sounds like a good idea. It is a good idea! With things sprouting everywhere the gardener doesn’t even think twice about last November and all the mumbling about planting bulbs before the ground freezes and another daffodil hillside would be brilliant 😉

Not daffodils, but a range of Corydalis solida seedlings coming up in the front street border.

Maybe there’s no daffodil hill in your future, but don’t give up because of that. Take a browse through the ‘minor bulb’ section, or the ‘miscellaneous bulbs’ tab and realize that tiny bulbs are barely any work to plant and can sometimes make just as big a display. Corydalis solida comes to mind and this year they’re quite an excellent show as the cool (somewhat gloomy) weather is keeping them in flower and keeping their colors nearly as bright as the day they opened.

Corydalis solida squeezing in where they can amongst the snowdrop and winter aconite foliage. This bed is a free for all until the next thing sprouts up and takes over.

Back in the day this blogger made a better effort at providing somewhat useful information, but that day is not today so let me suggest this post from 2016 when I was still just dabbling in the corydalis world. The best moment for me in my 2016 flashback was my wonder at seeing the first seedlings and how they differed from the mother plants. Good times. I believe nearly everything in the garden now is a seedling, and the originals are all gone, so if you adhere to a strict color palette and mauve in your melon offends your vision I’d say skip corydalis.

A visit to 2016 also reminded me that there were just two pink and one white hyacinths in this patch, and just a single bunch of pink corydalis solida. Old me was much neater.

Since we wandered into the recent past I guess some more lessons learned are that other minor bulbs also spread freely. I’m thinking the blue Scilla siberica in the last photo, and I’m wondering if I should evict it from other parts of the garden before it really mounts an invasion. Grape hyacinths (Muscari) can also spread more than you might like but are easier to deadhead… until you miss a batch…

Corydalis solida in one of the snowdrops beds. Obviously I just walk past this section when I’m wandering the garden with a homeless new plant in my hand, there’s not a single spot left for new things.

Well this post appears to be wandering off track as usual. I hope everyone enjoyed a nice Easter weekend and didn’t spend too much time looking at bulb catalogs whenever there was a lull in the family time, and I almost made it through this post without mentioning the weather or snowdrops.

One of the latest to bloom, Galanthus ‘Peardrop’ would be a keeper even if she flowered in the thick of the season, before all the others had faded and she’s the only drop left standing.

Oh weather. We’re about two or three weeks ahead of a normal season and there’s two or three inches of rain forecast for the next few days. Ugh. It better straighten out before all the daffs and tulips open is all I’ll add.

Have a great week 🙂

Spring on Pause

Mar24

You may have heard that a bit of chilly weather has rolled across North America. Our lowest low of the last few days has been just five degrees below average, but after months of non-winter it feels downright arctic. I even put the winter coat on for yesterday’s garden stroll!

The front border is beginning to come to life. ‘Tweety Bird’ is my earliest (and dare I say favorite?) daffodil and has never flinched due to cold or ice or snow.

Yesterday was a complete wash out with about two inches of rain filling my rain gauges (aka work buckets which litter the garden) and now it’s all locked in cold. For the last four nights I’ve even returned the pots of rosemary and dracaena back to the safety of the garage, and put off evicting the hardy cyclamen from the winter garden, but the pansies I planted out are on their own. Right now they’re face down in the frozen dirt, but by late afternoon I expect to see their cheery faces again. If not, I’m sure they’ll send up new blooms and that should ease any guilt I might have over not bothering to cover up and protect these little greenhouse divas at all.

Upward facing blooms on a hellebore are nice, but the cold rains of spring are a good reason to hang low and protect your pollen. These are also kissing the dirt right now, limp until the freezing weather passes.

Although we didn’t need another foot or two of rain it has been good for the transplants. Maybe even a little too good since I noticed a few leaning spruce and tilted hazels, but a quick stomp of the foot should rectify that and the water also helps since I didn’t water anything when they were moved since they’re all nice and dormant and the ground is wet enough. I had planned to spend the entire month moving snowdrops, but these woody plants were calling, and if I can make these moves quickly hopefully they can work out the transplant shock somewhat in the last few weeks before leafing out and pushing new growth. Maybe next week the snowdrops will have a chance… unless concrete calls and I finally work on the deck steps…

Snowdrops are fading and the next wave of spring bloomers are on their way.

Whatever happens, this is also the time of year when between jobs I question the number of other bulbs in need of moving and dividing. Actually I sometimes just question the number of bulbs here. Dividing and moving requires a spot to move things to and at the moment I’m at a loss. There’s already a new colchicum bed for divided colchicums, there’s a new tulip bed for moved tulips, and nearly every other somewhat-appropriate ground location has a few snowdrops growing there. Hmmmm.

The “vegetables only” policy for the potager did not age well. Four years later and there are a few garlic sprouts in the closest bed, but everything else is more flower than edible…

I of course am innocent in all this. One new allium and two new snowdrops came home with me from the Gala this spring. Last autumn only a “few” new snowdrops went in the ground, and seriously how big is one snowdrop? I didn’t buy a single daffodil or tulip. I am a victim.

I bet you also know that people who claim persecution and innocence most loudly are not and I think I’ll stop right there. If it gets warmer soon enough maybe I’ll spread a six inch clump of snowdrops into a four foot patch, or maybe take another dozen coleus cuttings in the winter garden, regardless of where things end up here I hope your Sunday goes well and you have an excellent week 😉

A Little Weird

Mar13

It’s barely past the first week of March and spring is in full force and normally I’d be exploding with snowdrop excitement but I think all the rain has literally put a damper on it. Snowdrops which should be perfect are waterlogged and beaten, and the warm rain has them opening when they shouldn’t. There were maybe two beautiful days mixed in there, but both coincided with late days at work, and now with a few more approaching I of course have to stay late again. Let me reiterate my plea for millions in snowdrop-admiring grant money if there is such a thing, or perhaps just throw money at me to stay home and garden… although if you can just add a few dollars for a retirement plan and health insurance that would be nice as well.

The un-droplike galanthus ‘Octopussy’. Better care would likely produce a neater, more robust plant but regardless, I still like the weird, green-tipped blooms.

So just keep me in mind if you have a few million laying around without a purpose. My snowdrops could have used the cover of some fancy glass cloches in all the rain, but instead there I was buying pizza and wings for not only my own kids but random friends and girlfriends who showed up, and that really doesn’t help the plant budget.

Returning for another year, the weird ‘spiky’ snowdrop, galanthus ‘Narwhal’ is even more unusual in that he hasn’t died in solidarity with most of the other weirder types. Even with ‘Polar Bear’ planted nearby he’s unafraid and throwing caution to the wind.

I suppose I’ll get over the rained out season. Eventually. In the meantime I’m excited by the possibility the drops might get some attention in the way of care and tending this spring, rather than the usual good intentions and aimless shuffling and looking. If the soil dries someday (although I see another inch of rain in the forecast) things will be up for division and replanting, and I’ve already top-dressed a few singletons with compost this past weekend before the latest deluge rolled in.

Another good grower for me is galanthus ‘Starling’ which is on the milder side of weird yet still odd to consider as a snowdrop. The large flowers make a nice show as they’re held out horizontally at first and then begin to hang as the bloom ages. I hope it continues to do well here.

The weekend’s deluge lasted all Saturday afternoon. Fortunately I took these photos Friday so had that at least to tide me over.

Not really weird, but galanthus ‘Flocon de Neige’ always looks a bit weird under my care. Well grown plants can be one of the most beautiful snowdrops, but mine always look a bit ‘peaked’, so I’m still working on that.

As I worked through the pictures I guess there are quite a few in bloom and it must just be that I’m more accustomed to them bursting out of the cold ground and looking perfect in the sun rather than a trudging tired from weeks of deciding if it’s time to grow, and then finally making a go of it in the gloom. Like myself I think they prefer sun, even if it’s a cold winter sun which barely melts the frost.

Nearly a traditional snowdrop, galanthus ‘Angelique’ is all white elegance with its extended inner petals.

Okay, so time to stop the complaints. Sunday morning the sun was out for about 20 minutes so I jumped out to enjoy it and then eventually tried to tackle a few things which were do-able in the muck.

‘Galadriel’ is late enough to still be perfect in spite of the weather. She’s one of my favorites and the tall flowers show an elegant line of green on the inners when fully open.

I decided moving trees and shrubs was a priority. Six Serbian spruce were moved from the potager to the other side of the berm slope, and perhaps someday a full wall of evergreens will block the industrial park. A few other shrubs were moved around the yard and some final pruning happened before the snow started falling too furiously.

‘S Arnott’ is still looking nice yet a little tousled from the weather while the double ‘Flore pleno’ behind him is still going strong. I mention this only to fuel the fight between myself and my friend Kathy as to which is the better landscape drop.

Luckily I sat down right as the bulk of the snow started falling. It’s much easier to shake off snow rather than clean another seat off for the next rest break, so that worked out well. Also what worked out well was doing this in the backyard rather than the front since yet again I was the only one out there gardening in the snow and I can be much less self-conscious about it when fewer people can see me.

About a week ago, after announcing the arrival of spring, several of the hardiest plants came out again after spending winter inside the garage.

While I sat out there in the snow waiting for someone to yell at me to get back inside the house what’s wrong with you you’re sitting out in a snowstorm I considered the plants which I had already taken out of the garage and placed outside for the year.

As the snowdrops fade the hellebores step up. These seedlings should really be looked over and thinned out, but I can’t help but find good in each bloom…

The thinking only lasted about ten minutes before the work involved in dragging things like geraniums and dracaenea and amaryllis back helped make up my mind. I chose the ‘easy come, easy go’ option. They’re near the foundation, the lows should only drop to 30-31F and as you know I have too many plants. Fortunately a brief review the next day didn’t show any damage so I guess I’m relieved?

The sun finally made an appearance after the first snow squall rolled through.

So that’s about where we’re at. Spring was here, it rained, it rained, it snowed, it got cold, and now for the next few days it’s quite warm. The first daffodils opened, a nice one called ‘Snow Baby’, but this early one also doesn’t like warmth and will likely fade quickly while other sturdier types take over. That should happen tomorrow. The first ‘Tete-a-Tete’ is hours from opening and by the end of the week there should be masses of corydalis, bunches of hellebores, and a good amount of daffodils taking over. I’m sure I’ll be out there.

Narcissus ‘Snow Baby’ aka ‘Ice Baby’ with an appropriate background. The pale yellow will fade to white within another day or two.

This rapid progression sometimes bothers me since the crocus will likely start and end within a week, but the pace brings something new on every day and that’s kinda fun as well. It’s just weird starting a post with a cold drizzle, witnessing a blustery snowstorm, and then finishing with warm sunny days.

The spring snowflakes (Leucojum vernum) always follow on the heels of the snowdrop season, and perhaps next spring I’ll be quick enough to get some good pictures of the newer plantings.

I actually planted pansies today. An excuse presented itself and before I could overthink the idea I found myself at a nursery filled with fresh pansies and perennials and (still tiny) annuals. They were closing soon, I buy more when I’m rushed 😉

Enjoy the rest of the week, and I hope you’re also seeing some sun, warmer weather, and signs of spring!

A Touch of Spring

Apr2

I took the dog out for a walk around the garden this morning and decided it’s still not shorts with a coffee weather, in spite of me trying. There’s a brisk wind blowing and with a temperature just above freezing I decided to give the thermometer a few more hours to warm up and instead cleaned the kitchen. I impressed myself, and now when my wife cleans up every other day I can bring this up as proof that I help… unlike the kids, who are still nearly useless for these things in spite of reports from work that they are quick and on top of things…

A new wave of early spring bulbs is awakening. Pink and purple corydalis, a few chiondoxa blooms, and a carpet of blue Scilla siberica. Each year I debate the ‘enthusiasm’ of the scilla, but it’s hard to think badly of so much blue in the garden.

Speaking of ‘quick and on top of things’, the gardener has been neither. Work is annoying and other than Wednesday afternoon, today is the first day he can get out there for anything. I’m sure someone will suggest he work on the next cabinet for the closet but maybe it’s too cold and windy for that. Sawdust blowing and swirling all through the garage is practically the definition of unsafe working conditions, and we’d be going backwards if some of that blows into the clean kitchen.

Fading snowdrops and the first peony sprouts. Neither cares that nightime lows can still drop well below freezing.

Maybe I’ll try and slap a few things together and then head out back with the shovel. Cold and windy is excellent digging weather and I still have a couple thousand tons of earth to move.

The spring snowflakes(Leucojum vernum) are up and trying to hold up to the battering wind. Someone mentioned that they don’t bloom long and now that’s all I think of when I see them, counting the days since they opened and questioning how many more days of bloom will be ‘long enough’.

What I should really do is divide and move a few billion snowdrops and stray seedlings. If I wait another year things might go beyond knowing who is who, and among snowdrop snobs having the wrong name with the wrong flower is akin to eating your salmon with a salad fork and we can’t have that.

I neglected to deadhead this batch of snowdrops (G.elwesii) last spring and will now have to deal with a sea of grass-like seedlings. Obviously they’re too precious to just weed out.

And now I’m hungry. I’m afraid to dirty the kitchen with a snack before anyone has the chance to admire it but am also pretty sure the empty bags of Easter candy will be a bigger deal, and no one will even acknowledge my hard work this morning. If you have coffee with your peanutbutter eggs it’s breakfast and people shouldn’t deny you breakfast when you’re cleaning the house for Palm Sunday.

Have a great week!

Cooler

Mar21

We missed most of the snow, but in general it was cool here last week. In a fit of mid-March optimism I drug a few of the hardiest things out of the garage and onto the driveway for a little sun and fresh air and then forgot about them for a few days. Things got cooler over the weekend with a Friday night low around 25F (-4C) and I had my concerns for the rosemary, Fatsia, and potted Dracaena, but in the light of the next morning they didn’t look too bad. Of course I left them out for the next night as well, with similar temperatures, because like a small child I’ll try and get away with it for as often as I can until things backfire. Some people only learn things the hard way.

A spring shower and March sunshine have brought on the big dutch crocus (Crocus vernum ‘Pickwick’). The rabbits only nibbled a few of the blooms, but they’ll be back soon enough to finish them off.

In spite of two cold nights, the calendar and stars both say today is the first day of spring, and I’m happy the heavens have finally caught up to where I’ve already been for quite a few weeks. It’s exciting to know that spring has been given its official recognition for the new year but also sad to think that some of the most exciting highlights of the year have already passed. Next week promises warmer weather and with it the peak of the snowdrop season and then the fading away while other things step up for their moment. Already the witch hazel are dropping their petals and the winter aconite are on their way to setting seed and I’m almost missing those chilly afternoons shuffling around the garden looking for the first sprouts.

In a nook shaded by the fence, the last of the winter aconite is holding on to bloom. Seed pods will come next, ripe seed thereafter, and soon I’ll be scattering a new crop of flowers into the next patch of garden.

I think this gardener is feeling a bit of a crash following the abundance of snowdrops this spring. They’re still amazing and a few late ones are just starting and trust me I spend more time than I should soaking them in, but maybe I’ll need some help coming off the high this year.

‘Melanie Broughton’ is just one of the many late forms which supply perfect flowers once the earlier sorts begin to look tired. Maybe I need a late bed strictly devoted to these kinds so they’re all perfectly perfect together. Surely the garden can handle one more snowdrop bed?

Maybe daffodils can be my methadone. In spite of this weekend’s turn to cold the first daffodils are just a few degrees of sunshine short of opening, and you can trust I have my eye on them.

New waterlily shoots frozen into the night’s ice. I’m continuously amazed that soft things like fresh lilypads and tiny things like fresh duckweed can survive a solid freeze.

Oops. One thing which I didn’t have my eyes on were the four pots of daylily seedlings which were put out into the coldframe last week. Daylilies are hardy enough plants, but for seedlings to come out from a cozy winter under the growlights and face a freezing cold night (or two since what’s done is done), might have been more than they should have to handle.

Kinda mushy and wilted, the frozen daylily seedlings will hopefully survive to enjoy spring. Hopefully.

Generally if things freeze off I’m quite quick to write them off and move on, since there’s never a shortage of new seedlings and divisions and gifts and purchases waiting to find a home, but the frozen daylily seedlings could really be a setback to the future of the farm. I was counting on these to provide the 2025 introductions which would be unveiled when I put out my first daylily catalogue. Golly. This really does throw a wrench into things.

You can’t look at snowdrops all day, so Saturday I decided to regrade the entire construction area. The wife kindly pointed out that working on closets would be a better use of my time, considering a machine could do this in a day, but God forbid I have to join a gym to work off my winter fat.

So moving a couple tons of rocky fill did help ease the stress of the ups and downs which come with building a world quality daylily farm, but the even better part to all the hard labour was filling in a few more square feet of the low spot which haunts me in the back of the yard. I feel like the Dutch must have felt when they reclaimed their land from the sea. Every square foot of flat ground holds the potential of a new planting area, and perhaps in their honor I should plant it all to tulips one year, just in case the daylily farm doesn’t keep me busy enough.

The lowest areas back here were perhaps three feet below where I’d like them to be, so into the dip went all kinds of stone and mortar debris, now to be topped off with a foot or so of rocky dirt/fill.

I’m estimating this job should be finished up somewhere around late 2027, assuming I don’t end up in the hospital first. Hmmm. Actually I’m surprised that didn’t come up in addition to the talk of closets, and honestly don’t know if I should be flattered or insulted by that. In another year I’ll be closer to 60 than 50 so…

In the last few days tulips have started to sprout in the potager beds. There will be no room for cabbages, but three or four heads of cabbage didn’t stand a chance against armloads of tulips.

Well that’s not the direction I had planned for this post. It’s the first day of official spring and as always I’ll be gardening as if I’ll live to be 120. In my opinion it’s the only option since imagine planning for a bucket-kicking at 90 and then sticking around for another 30! That’s a long time to regret the unplanted acorn.

Cool

Mar14

I’m feeling a little guilty since I expected great things for this snowdrop season, but never expected it to go on forever. I’m apologizing. Sorry that every post for the past few months has mentioned ‘snow’-anything, and as the East coast gets a little winter weather, and parts of the West coast tunnel through to find front doors and buried cars, I’m also sorry that there’s no end in sight. I’ll try to be quick.

The view from the street is starting to hint at a snowdrop theme, and I think they’re ready for some more dividing and spreading around this spring for an even better show next year.

These photos were taken yesterday afternoon, and today we’re looking at about four inches of snow covering them, but the white stuff always melts quickly in March, even when a foot or two drops. Fortunately we don’t have that here… Sorry Eliza 😉

Finally a flower that’s not white. Crocus heuffelianus, ‘Tatra shades’ doing well but I bet a little dividing and spreading around (once they go dormant) would make for an even better show next year.

A light snow will highlight any new sprouts and flowers which stand out above the snowline, and surely mark them for decapitation by rabbits, but for a few days at least we were able to enjoy them. The rabbits probably figure out real quick that snowdrops are a yuck thing, but crocus are not, and once they find the first blooms they’ll spend the next night or two searching out every last flower in the yard. Good for them I guess. I do get annoyed when they keep coming back to eat every attempt the crocus make at growing foliage, since it will weaken next year’s show, but for the few days the crocus are in flower I don’t mind sharing… a little…

A white flower which is not a snowdrop (Galanthus). I love snowflakes (Leucojum vernum), and this form, which lacks nearly all the green of the normal tips, is even more special. I need to divide and spread around this and the clump behind so it bulks up quicker and puts on an even better show next year.

So that’s two flowers which are not snowdrops and I feel less sorry again, so back to normal!

Can you tell I never pruned that rose last year? Add that to the list. Also add dividing ‘Augustus’ to the list, he’s the drop in the front and with such nice foliage I think dividing and moving him around to a few new spots would make for an even better show next year.

Did you notice a few snowdrops behind ‘Augustus’? They’re all random patches of the giant snowdrop (Galanthus elwesii) and are quite a few more snowdrops than I need. It’s hard to plant new snowdrops when the spots are already filled with old snowdrops so I might have to address all the less-special clumps and their seedlings this summer. Seedlings. Don’t even get me started on seedlings. I have baby snowdrops coming up in all the wrong places, and even though every snowdrop is special your own babies are even more so which means they all need attention.

I’m guessing this is a seedling of ‘Blonde Inge’ because of the bright yellow inner petals, even though I’m not sure how a seed managed to travel the six feet between here and the mother clump. There are a few more scattered about but they lack the yellow and are just plain green. All of course should be divided and moved to spots of their own for an even better show next year.

Although it’s a good excuse, the gardener here isn’t using the on-again, off-again cool weather and snow as a reason to sit on the computer all day looking at daylily sales. He did already divide and move a few bunches of snowdrops to new locations. To be honest it amounted to about 25 minutes of work between vacuuming plaster dust and scooping ice cream, but it does fall into the work category so that’s a good thing. Take a trowel or small shovel, dig deep to avoid slicing through the deeper bulbs… which for some reason always happens anyway… tease a few bunches apart or take it down to single bulbs if you’re greedy, trowel out a new spot and shove them in at the same depth, give them a little drink to settle in. My gardener uses a water-soluble fertilizer like Miracle-Gro as the drink, but better gardeners with more ambition could work in soil amendments and organic fertilizers to start your new plantings off on a good footing.

The new stone wall will probably need rebuilding some day as a result of poor workmanship, but at least the results of the 20 minutes spent planting these snowdrops will last. I can’t wait to see them settle in for an even better show next year!

There’s snow on the ground, the year is barely off to a start, and I’m already obsessing about next year. Sounds about right. I hate to think what I would waste my time with if it weren’t for the garden, probably something silly like managing retirement investments, or monetizing a youtube channel or Ticktock feed. Who needs that, right?

Enjoy this flashback to winter, and may all your bids on your favorite daylily auction not win especially if you were counting on a lot to not win since that’s a bunch of daylilies even if you have a daylily farm to plant. Yeah 😉

sorta like suburbia

more than you ever wanted to know about my garden

Category Archives: early spring