And it Begins…

Feb22

February seems to be on its way to becoming the new March with the way these warm spells sneak in. Today the afternoon high hit 75F (24C) and it was actually a bit unsettling to break a sweat in the garden knowing that the thermometer will drop down to freezing within the next few hours. That could have been a serious concern, but obviously my thoughts on global warming vanished the minute I saw how much the snowdrops had come along. I spent the entire afternoon trimming things, poking around for shoots, and admiring the early birds which had already come into bloom.

Galanthus elwesii, the giant snowdrop. One of the earliest to rear its head in my garden.

There are a lot of snowdrop favorites in this garden and one near the top is Galanthus ‘Godfrey Owen’. He’s a handsome snowdrop, and of course he’s looking exceptional this spring.

Galanthus ‘Godfrey Owen’, rising up fresh and clean amongst the winter wreckage of last season.

Godfrey is special for his doubled outer petals which make a brilliant star when fully open and looked at from above… this is how most sane people admire these tiny little late winter flowers.

‘Godfrey Owen’ from above.

Another snowdrop which also shows some variation from the standard three outer petals, three inners, is ‘Natalie Garton’. She’s a new one to the garden this spring but I wanted to show the interesting inner ‘extras’ which hang down from the middle of some of the flowers. New is always special, so we’ll have to wait for time to tell if this strange inner remains just interesting or slowly becomes a classic. (fyi for the snowdrop nerds, word is that this snowdrop is the same as a similar one named ‘Chris Sanders’. Natalie G is now the accepted name).

Galanthus ‘Natalie Garton’ with her extra inner petals.

Green snowdrops are also a thing. ‘Rosemary Burnham’ is one of the classics and today she was looking fantastic. She’s a Canadian originally and as such is one of a limited number of named North American snowdrops, but her true specialness lies in the solid green wash to her outer petals. The flowers don’t jump out in the garden and are a little on the small size but I think they’re amazing.

Galanthus ‘Rosemary Burnham’ looking great on her first day open.

The majority of the other snowdrops are yet to come, but here’s one last plain old white one.

Galanthus ‘Bill Bishop’ has extra grande flowers on a short plant. Of course it’s one of the favorites.

Keep your fingers crossed for a gentle ride into real spring. The last few years have been on the harsh side as far as late winter flowers go, so I promise that even if 2018 is the most exceptional snowdrop season I’ll try to control myself. I kind of recognize that not everyone is as obsessed with these short little plants and hopefully you won’t have to resort to praying for another tornado to save you from my snowdrop overkill!

Indoors, For Now…

Feb17

After a late start, it looked like winter was actually going to make an effort this year. We had some cold spells, some snow, lots of ice, and the usual January thaw, but now it’s just losing steam. A February thaw is in the works, and the freeze out there this morning is the one exception in a ten day forecast that doesn’t even dip much below freezing. To be honest I’d be thrilled to see this in March or April… not so much February.

I was expecting to spend most of February in the garage, hiding from the cold, and admiring the winter garden which has now officially replaced the workshop.

This weather will quickly bring on the snowdrops and winter aconite, and once that happens I’ll waste every minute of daylight wandering and poking around the garden imagining just how nice everything is going to be this year. In the meantime though, I’ve come to a decision on a real winter greenhouse, one which involves glass and benches and expensive heating. Before you get excited for me (doesn’t everyone get excited for people who get new greenhouses?) I want to make it clear it’s not going to happen. Our local climate is relatively extreme and although that in itself is an excellent reason to get a greenhouse, I just can’t commit myself to worrying about extreme low temperatures, brutal hailstorms and blizzards, heating system failures… and most importantly the extra heating bill.

The hardy cyclamen (C. coum) are at their peak under the winter garden grow lights. For the second year in a row I’m wondering why I don’t have more in here.

But wait! Don’t get the wrong impression here. I’m not having some budget-wise revelation that includes spending less and denying myself things in order to save for our retirement or the children’s education. I just came to the conclusion that with only a few more grow lights I can change the whole workshop over into a very satisfying pseudo-conservatory. So I did a little searching and found three more light fixtures on clearance. $39 a piece, about $120 total… so much better than their $52 normal price.

A first time for me. Fern spores. You’ll have to trust me on this but there’s a tiny bit of black dust on that silver foil, and hopefully with it and an old baby food tub I can recreate what ferns have been doing for millions of years.

$120 is an amazing bargain compared to buying an actual greenhouse, so in reflecting on how much money I just saved I don’t think I’d be way off in subtracting it from the budget rather than adding, but on second thought a visit to the accountant taught me a new word which might come in handy here. Depreciation. From what I gathered (and often what I gather is more what I want to hear rather than real facts) I can take this long-range purchase and pretend it’s really money which has been spent over a couple years. So for the 2018 budget I’m going to pretend I only spent $30 and we’ll see if I remember the remaining $30s in 2019, 2020, and 2021.

Seed starting is well under way. These will go outside today and spend the rest of the winter on the side of the house under a layer of garden fleece (aka Reemay, or spun row cover) until warmer weather encourages them to sprout.

The lights are more of a next winter plan, but you never know. In a fit of boredom a week or so ago (apparently you can’t spend forever sipping beer and staring at cyclamen) someone got it in their head to pot up the coleus cuttings and start a few succulent cuttings. They’re in the very back of the workshop, in a room with the furnace, and hopefully will stay warm enough there to get shoots growing and roots forming. We will see.

Rootless succulent cuttings newly potted up and coleus cuttings slowly recovering from the last few months on a windowsill in water.

I don’t need more succulents in February, let alone May. It’s another one of those #becauseIcan moments, but I’m just itching with a compulsion to start more. Another 25 or 50 more isn’t out of the question and I’m sure something can be done with them in the spring.

In the meantime have a great weekend!

$30 for new growlights

$318 total so far for the 2018 gardening year

A Galanthus Gala and (some more) Winter Denial

Mar20

This Saturday Downington Pa became the horticultural ground zero for Mid Atlantic snowdrop lovers. For those who never get out of the house, David Culp is author of ‘The Layered Garden’ and breeder of the Brandywine strain of hellebores (as well as many other accomplishments… which a better blogger would probably research and list…) and this weekend he and several friends hosted a snowdrop party with talks and vendors and an (almost complete) list of who’s who of snowdrop lovers for the area. Again a better blogger would have photos and lists of all the snowdrops and other goodies for sale on this special day, but I was too distracted, and I’d suggest a visit to facebook and a quick search for snowdrop gala or David Culp and you should be able to get a good feel for it. My attention was held by the plants and people, and if you’re interested here’s what passed through the vetting process and came home with me 🙂

Gifts, trades, and purchases. Of course there were four new snowdrops mixed in there… apologies for that cold, ugly white background…

I’m a little concerned by how many people I knew and just how friendly they all were. This must be how people are convinced to join cults and by the looks of it I’m already drinking the punch! Treasures were exchanged and I even pried open the wallet for a few more treats. To my credit I resisted the hellebore rush, and as David Culp’s Brandywine hybrids flew off the sales table I limited myself to a single ‘Penny’s Pink’, one which I’ve been eyeing for at least a couple years.

Hopefully ‘Penny’s Pink’ will prove hardy for me. The flowers are nice enough but it’s this foliage which won me over.

I’m already planning on attending next year’s gala. Four hours flew by almost as fast as plants were flying out of the building, and before I wanted it to happen I was back in the car trying to beat the weather on my drive home. Hopefully next year there won’t be a snow dump in the week prior and hopefully we can fit in a gala garden visit or two as well!

Back home, indoors is where you have to be in order to find anything not buried by snow. Here’s my favorite primrose so far, a red from the Silver Dollar strain of Barnhaven seeds, and I love the large velvety flowers and their subtle color shading.

I may have to clear a little room under the lights while my new goodies wait for the last foot or two of snow to melt. Right now the light table is packed with semi-hardy things waiting to go outside, seedlings starting to take up more room, and other odds and ends which just needed a home.

A few more primula (pretty enough but maybe just a bit boring), plus some generic forced bulbs… all of which are priceless when there’s nothing outside but white.

The amaryllis are starting to come to life as well. The first one, hippeastrum ‘Lemon Sorbet’ has a nice pale yellow which leans more towards lime. The plant is considered a mini which means smaller flowers and a ridiculously small bulb, but still a full blooming height. I’m pretty sure a shorter plant would be more convenient, but I guess cut flowers are more valuable than a short dining table amaryllis.

Amaryllis ‘lemon sorbet’ and one last flower on the tulips. I’m still in shock that these have been allowed onto the new table, but they do look nice there.

So tomorrow is Monday and the kids head off to school again for the first time in six days. Snow is still in the process of melting but I don’t think much of it will be gone in the two days left until official spring arrives. We’ll see what happens. You can feel the strength in the sunshine and it’s just a matter of time now before the tide turns!

Tuesday View: The Street Border

Mar15

It appears this garden and most of the East Coast are still going over one more speedbump on the road to spring. Today we welcomed a little over two feet of snow into the garden, and I suspect it will be a bit before (a) the kids return to school, and (b) I need to fertilize the lawn.

I might be early on this decision but I’m considering this as the 2017 Tuesday view. Under all the snow is the mixed plantings of the street border, a name I came up with all by myself based on the fact it’s a border and it runs along the street 😉

Some might say 2017 has been off to a rough start, and they might be right, but I’m going to try and think about other things such as Cathy’s Tuesday View and consider the border along the street as my entry for this year. Posting every week might be a stretch, but maybe showing this view once every other week will be do-able. We’ll see.

Two feet of March snow is excellent fort building material and the front yard is a battleground of trenches and tunnels… plus buried snowdrops and crocus.

Right now the view doesn’t really matter though. People are still digging out and cars and trucks are being pulled out (as our evening walk down to the main street demonstrated) and we just have to deal with that first. The forecast ahead is cold, but the sun when it comes out will be strong, and hopefully there’s something left to look forward to when all this snow melts… since the snowdrops have already given up on spring.

In Like a Lamb

Mar11

I’m considering filing a restraining order against March this year. Every spring-like warm spell brings the hellebores and snowdrops on a little further along but then some new brutal weather event comes by to smack them all down again. It’s clearly an unhealthy relationship but I just can’t move on. Every time the sun comes out again, spring becomes so real I just want to forgive and forget and say just one more chance.

Possibly my favorite snowdrop, ‘Brenda Troyle’ looks extremely average but it’s also so reliable and perfect I can’t say a single bad thing about it.

Most of the snowdrops were lost after the first chance for spring came and went, but a few hid here and there either underground or cozied up to the house foundation. A shame they didn’t warn the hellebores about how fickle the season was being.

The hellebores which could have been.

I admit I’m not much help in protecting things. A few snowdrops received a plastic tub or bucket cover for when the thermometer dropped to 7F (-14C) one night, but most things are on their own.

Galanthus lagodechianus tried hiding underground for a while and did manage to avoid the hail, but then came up just as the latest arctic blast was about to hit. Fortunately a simple cover saved its perfect flowers from damage and at least this week I’ll be able to enjoy the yellow coloring which is exceptionally bright this spring.

The various snow crocus in the meadow garden are always a risky bet so I can’t complain much here. The weather gets whatever the rabbits didn’t so even in a good year you need to be quick.

Some warm sun might be too much to ask for. I keep waiting for the spring where I see a whole swath of opened crocus basking in the sunlight… but it hasn’t happened yet.

To hedge my spring flowering bets I went around yesterday and plucked any undamaged hellebores which were still around. A few remained and they were enough to remind me why I still bother growing them…. since last year’s season was mostly a bust as well.

Snuggled up right next to the porch foundation, hellebore ‘Cinnamon Snow’ has actually flowered well this year. Usually the buds are killed much earlier in the winter and never make it to this point. Wish I could say the same for the others, but this small handful were the only undamaged flowers I could rustle up.

Hopefully the rest of March is a little gentler on the hellebores and the later flowers can still develop and put on a show. It would be nice to see a few showy clumps instead of the wilted and blacked stalks I’ve been getting used to seeing.

Fingers crossed that this is the last of the hail damage. At first the magnolias didn’t look so bad, but once the damage started to brown it was a different story. Fresh foliage will make this all a memory in a few more weeks… I think.

One last complaint. For some reason these snowdrops (G. woronowii) really took a beating from the cold. Maybe it was the 62F to 7F drop in temperature, or the wet soil, or the exposed location, whatever the case I think a few might not be salvageable.

Sad seeing freeze damage on a snowdrop but it’s not my first time. Maybe a few will survive, but they (and about 200 others) were looking so promising for their first year.

I guess some days it’s just better to stay indoors.

The first of the forced tulips are coming into flower. I’m sure their shortness says something bad about their culture but to be honest the height actually works out perfectly for under the growlights 🙂

The indoor garden should really have many more seedlings getting size on them for spring planting, but for whatever reason I just haven’t yet been in the mood to tackle a whole under-lights seed agenda this year. I planted onions, that’s it. Good thing the primroses are filling in and starting to flower.

Photographing yellow is still a sticking point for me, but hopefully this picture still gets across how nicely this primula auricula has done.

Having my yellow Primula auricula survive for a second year was a surprise in itself, but the fact that it’s actually multiplied and flowered again is borderline unbelievable.

I still think the mealy powder on these flowers is one of the most exotic things.

These indoor flowers will have to keep me and most of the East coast going for the next few days since March just decided to come back and slap us with a surprise snowfall. Normally this would be another reason to complain, but at least snow should insulate things for the temperature drop which will follow.

Hellebore ‘Cinnamon Snow’ in the actual snow.

Temperature drop and then more snow. Right now they’re saying lots more but given the forecasting track record it’s still too soon to tell. Wouldn’t that be something though if we get more snow in the first few days of spring than we did all winter. March must know I was planning on a garden visit next weekend because I bet this weather forecast is what jealously looks like. Stop it March!

He Giveth and Taketh Away

Feb27

I guess it was fun while it lasted and I guess you can already see where this is going, but after a balmy stretch of record breaking warmth our week of unusual February weather has come to an end with a bang. It’s bizarre weather for a Pennsylvania winter and almost has me believing those crybaby liberal scientists who keep trying to push the idea of global warming on us. Luckily I ran into CarlB380 on some online political forum and he set me straight by explaining it’s just some normal variations in our global weather cycles. I heard the Chinese are behind it as well, so everyone just needs to relax.

Galanthus ‘Diggory’ sure looks better when you’re not freezing your butt off.

I have to confess that the Chinese may not be entirely to blame. This year I insisted on buying new snowpants for the kids since they were predicting a wetter than usual La Nina winter. Foolishly enough I thought that bonanza would come in the form of snow. Lots of snow means we would finally take advantage of the ski resort just 15 minutes away and all hit the slopes together to shake off rust and learn new skills. That didn’t happen. The only rust shook off was from the rake I used to clean out the front street border… not that the rake had much time to rust-up in our three week winter.

It will take a few more years before those specks of yellow in the center become a sheet of brigh yellow winter aconite (Eranthis hyemalis), but it will happen soon enough. You may also notice the bed has crept to the right another few feet…

I admit I’m practically drowning in galanthomania (snowdrop love) these last few days, but in the interest of retaining my last few readers I’ll try and limit myself to just a few. Feel my struggle though. Although last year’s hail, heat, and arctic plunge devastated the season, it appears they loved the damp and drawn out spring which followed all that mess. This year they are coming up bigger than ever, with double stalks where I’ve never seen double stalks, and bulbs which have quadrupled in number… all that and a 70F (21C) sun soaked afternoon to sit on the lawn and admire them. Wow.

Last year’s plunge into frigid cold and winds withered the blooms and foliage on this bunch of ‘Magnet’. This spring it’s bigger than ever!

New favorites have settled in as well, and it’s nice to see what a few years can do to the lonely and sometimes lost single flowers of new snowdrop plantings. Here are two newer favorites, Galanthus ‘Kildare’ and ‘Erway’.

‘Kildare’ is a nice green tipped snowdrop out of Ireland while ‘Erway’ to the right has an interesting olive colored, oddly helmet-shaped ovary on top.

Now for the bad news though. A strong cold front had been working its way across the continent and by mid Saturday afternoon reached this end of Pennsylvania. During the first wave, golfball sized hail rained down out of the sky and a tornado spawned just two miles up the road.

In what might not have been one of my smarter moves I ran out to the street to bring the car up into the garage… too late to save it from a few dents in the hood, but fortunately my head avoided the same fate.

We were safe from the tornado, and although huge, the hailstones were short lived and only a few came down per square foot. Impressive enough on its own, but then the second wave hit. Strong winds, pea and marble sized hail, drenching downpour, and the frightening sound of hail smashing the roof and windows. Oh yeah, thunder and lightning as well, and in a few minutes the garden went from an early blossom of spring to a freakish mid summer smack-down.

Galanthus ‘viridapice’ with a few winter aconite and hardy Cyclamen coum… before and after.

All the early snowdrops are history and I’m crossing my fingers for the few late ones which were still trying to catch up with the weather. Easy come easy go I guess.

Goodbye ‘Bill Bishop’ and ‘Primrose Warburg’. See you in another 12 months.

Btw I’m a little impressed with myself over the merged photos. I’m sure this is old news for anyone even marginally computer literate, but just in case you’re interested it was done here> IMGonline

To wrap up my new-found computer savviness I’m throwing in a few videos as well. Here’s the second part of the storm as it really hit its stride.

…and a little later as the storm winds up. My tech skills only go so far, so unfortunately it’s been filmed in the narrow ‘portrait’ orientation, but hopefully this doesn’t kill my chances of breaking the record 23 views which my last video racked up.

We will see where this winter takes us next. I’m hoping it’s to spring but wherever it goes the ride is always an exciting one and always one which reminds me how grateful I am that I don’t rely on the weather for my livelihood. -and please don’t feel bad for the lost flowers, I’m sure they’ll be back stronger than ever next spring and after soaking them up completely for the last few days I think I’ll be fine until the next page of spring unfolds!

Earliest. Cleanup. Ever.

Feb21

The title says it all. Nearly all the snow has melted, jackets were thrown aside, and for a glorious weekend we enjoyed obscenely nice spring temperatures and sunshine. I didn’t even do the responsible thing and wash the car first, I went straight for the clippers and rake and tidied winter away from the front yard. With flowers bursting up out of the soil it was the only logical thing to do.

The first snowdrops and the bright yellow of winter aconite (Eranthis hyemalis)

I’m not one to hem and haw about “is it too early” or “can I uncovered the perennials yet”, I just dive right in as soon as the weather gives me the chance. Sure it will probably get cold again, but I find that covered or not they’re going to start growing anyway.

The earliest of the common snowdrops (Galanthus nivalis) came up completely as the snow melted Saturday. I think they look even nicer coming up amongst a nice groundcover of hardy cyclamen.

I’d love to assault you (again) with far too many snowdrop pictures, but for now will limit myself to just three. I do want to have a few readers left for the other 11 months of the year…

‘Wendy’s Gold’ is one of the “yellow” snowdrops. The color is exceptional this year, and just as bright as today’s sunshine.

After a downright miserable snowdrop season last year, this year (all three days of it so far) is shaping up to be outstanding. With the usual optimism of a gardener I’m positive that last year’s arctic blasts and heat waves, combined with downpours and hail, will not repeat. I see nothing but idyllic temperatures and sunshine, even though it is about a month early. But just in case, I’ll keep watering the winter garden since it’s coming along as well.

A few of the hyacinths I forced this winter. Not bad for a bunch of clearance bulbs.

The indoor snowdrops are mostly over, but the cyclamen are going strong and the primrose are promising a nice show as they send up flower buds. Miraculously I’ve managed to see my Primula auricula through the winter and bring it back into flower again under the lights. I managed to grow this from seed (somehow) and I’m afraid it’s literally led me down a primrose path to membership in the American Primrose Society. Now for a third year in a row I’ve ordered more seed and just in case you’re brave enough, the society has just opened up this seed exchange to non members. Click here for a link to some of the best (and cheapest) primula seed available in the US.

Definitely not the fanciest example of an auricula primrose, but it’s my very own (and most importantly I haven’t killed it yet). The fancier versions come in rich reds, blues or greens with larger flowers, bicolor blooms… all with that cool white-powdered center.

I’m excited again about the primroses, but Cyclamen coum are still a favorite. Their numbers have dropped a little due to someone not being the most capable cyclamen grower, but I have plans to turn that trend around. I’ve been going and dabbing pollen from flower to flower in the hopes of getting a few seeds to form, and if all works as planned there will be a new batch of these coming along in no time.

Unpollinated flowers will wilt and fall over, pollinated flowers will curl up and tuck themselves down close to the ground to form a seed pod. I think this is one of the most curious traits of these little plants.

As the cyclamen set their seeds and the other flowers join the show I’ve decided to bring a few of the forced tulip bulbs under the lights to see what they can do. Tulips indoors are a first for me, but with the way our weather’s going the ones outside will be nearly open anyway so it’s no great loss if failure strikes.

In typical fashion bulbs have been carelessly stuffed into a too small pot, and although I don’t anticipate any overwhelming demand for this less than attractive photo, in my opinion it looks extremely promising.

And we will see where this season takes us. It’s a freakishly early start to spring but even in a normal year there’s plenty of unfortunate weather to go around, so a beautifully warm weekend in February isn’t the worst thing. I guess we will just have to enjoy it while we can, and of course I’m fine with that.

Snowdropping 2017

Feb13

Rather than face 9 inches of snow and a 12F (-11C) low lets take a trip back to just four days ago when the springtime warmth brought on an emergency trip to enjoy this year’s first snowdrop trip. It’s early of course, but we were on a mission this time and with the thermometer peaking at 60F (15C) it was now or never. The mission was to visit Dr. John Lonsdale at Edgewood Gardens, and take a tour of his overflowing snowdrop and cyclamen greenhouses before the warm weather set all the flowers to seed. We were not disappointed.

Snowdrops and hardy cyclamen filling the greenhouse benches.

John lives and gardens in Exton, Pennsylvania, just outside of Philadelphia and from the looks of things you’d never guess he has yet to quit his day job. These thousands of drops and bulbs (plus about a billion other plants spread out across his yard) are just a passionate hobby and sideline which is Edgewood Gardens. You may already know this since he is a regular feature at garden events and lectures up and down the East coast, but to see his garden and hear him talk you would think for sure he lives the life of a full time nurseryman.

Galanthus ‘Homersfield’ in the Lonsdale greenhouse.

I have plenty of pictures here and will likely ramble on too long so to keep things focused I’ll just add that John will be putting out his first snowdrop sales list this summer, and if you’re even just slightly interested in seeing what drops might be available send him an email via his Edgewood Gardens website.

I didn’t take nearly as many photos as I thought. Most of my visit was spent poking through the benches admiring all the characteristics and nuances that a plain little green and white winter flowering bulb can give.

John may be growing a few extra bulbs for sale, but it doesn’t take more than a walk up his driveway to recognize he’s plant obsessed with a weakness towards collecting.

Hundreds of carefully inventoried and labeled pots fill every square inch.

The full range of snowdrops is represented in the greenhouse, selections from seed grown species right alongside some of the most coveted European varieties, many of which are nearly impossible to find on either side of the Atlantic. This is even more impressive when you consider the cost and complications which are involved in bringing these plants into the States legally (something you’ll quickly notice when browsing overseas sources).

An all green snowdrop, Galanthus ‘Green Tear’, is one of those drops which broke records a few years ago when first offered on eBay. Someone thought $500 for a single bulb was just right for feeding their obsession.

When they’re all together like this it’s hard to pick out favorites…. or even distinguish one white drop from another, but a few stand out even to a beginner like myself.

The puffy pantaloons look of Galanthus ‘Diggory’ (pantaloons as in pants, not the twenty one pilots song)

Travel is supposed to broaden the mind but I’m afraid all this trip did was make my snowdrop obsession worse. I picked up several new names to add to the want-list…

Galanthus ‘Duckie’ on the left and top. I loved the wide flat petals.

I also like how the green mark inside Galanthus ‘Moortown’ bleeds up a bit and stains the inside. Plus it’s a nice big sturdy drop 🙂

Galanthus ‘Green Mile’, another sought after, deeply saturated green snowdrop.

Ok, so that might be plenty of snowdrops, but before we leave the greenhouse the hardy Cyclamen coum deserve some attention as well. Not to pat myself on the back too strongly, but these are the same plants which John offers for sale through his website, and somehow through a remarkable feat of self control I managed to limit myself to just four carefully selected plants.

Cyclamen coum at their peak in the greenhouse. It will be another few weeks before the ones I have here in my own garden begin to flower, and weather permitting they will be just as nice.

There were also plenty of seedlings coming along for future sales.

Various hardy and not so hardy cyclamen seedlings coming along in the “other” greenhouse. If you look closely you can even see some of the cool purple centered C hederifolium coming along in the center of the photo. Even the little babies color up!

… and that’s just in the greenhouses. Because of the exceptional temperatures things were pushing ahead outside as well.

The absolutely perfect Colchicum kesselringii, a late winter flowering relative of the more common fall blooming colcicum.

The first of the Adonis amurensis were coming up to take advantage of the sun.

And cactus. I barely mentioned the cactus beds, but there they were looking as if they were growing a few hundred miles West and South of this Philly garden.

An opuntia (prickly pear) which wrinkles up and takes on an unusual purple color once temperatures fall. I wonder if it blooms as nicely as the regular version, the spines sure do look just as fierce!

Oh and I’m sure you’re done with snowdrops, but there were more outside as well, both in bloom and just beginning to sprout.

I believe this is Galanthus ‘Mrs Macnamara’, a perfect beauty and surprisingly hardy and early. Word is this bunch has been going strong for a couple weeks already, and still looks this good.

Hellebores were also just beginning.

A few of many Helleborus niger (Christmas rose) which were coming up around the garden. Here on the slope they looked absolutely perfect.

Even a few of the trees and shrubs were showing signs of life. The witch hazels (Hamamelis) were in bloom all over the gardens, but the delicate flowers of the Japanese plum (Prunus mume) really look too delicate for a Pennsylvania February.

Prunus mume. Dr. Lonsdale told me the cultivar but at that point I’m pretty sure my brain was way too full to retain any lengthy Japanese names.

I could easily spend all day or another day at Edgewood Gardens, but if you’re at all familiar with our Philly snowdrop jaunts you’ll know we always fit in way too much for the still short days. Before our greenhouse visit we happily dropped an hour and a half at a local park to again admire the sheets of naturalized winter aconite (Eranthis Hyemalis) which grow there.

The forest floor was buzzing with hundreds of honeybees taking advantage of these first flowers of 2017.

We even managed to find a few snowdrops just coming up. What a perfect combination, and quite a contrast to the deer chewed pachysandra, weeds and brambles.

Naturalized eranthis and snowdrop bulbs. Given a few acres and about 150 years and you might also have a similar show.

We were so lucky with the weather this year. Snowdropping in February is one thing, doing it in short sleeves is unheard of even in the warmest of years. Hopefully when March rolls around and it’s time to head north to visit Hitch Lyman and Temple Gardens we will be just as lucky. History says otherwise though.

Temperatures dropped to normal within 24 hours of our visit and we finally got a good coating of snow to cover up any signs of spring. It now looks more normal for February, but that doesn’t explain why the kids can’t just go sledding in their snow pants like everyone else.

As usual a special thanks goes out to Paula for her annual enthusiasm for these trips, and also a big thanks goes out to Dr. Lonsdale for being so generous with his time, his knowledge and also his garden. Truth be told I may have just kind of invited myself over that day, but you would never have guessed it by how warmly I was received by both John and by his other (more scheduled) visitors. It was great getting to see everyone and I hope we do this again!

Bury your head in the sand

Apr7

Ignorance is bliss. As the garden shivers and crackles under a freezing blanket of cold the wise gardener will hunker down indoors and enjoy the luxury of a warmer, climate controlled gardening experience. Outdoors he can’t do anything but wait for the damage to show but indoors he can at least tweak the thermostat a little higher and take another sip of coffee… spiked or unspiked depending on the latest weather report.

Leftover Easter flowers and a few too many amaryllis blooms.

I’ve been a little too excited about the new amaryllis I bought this winter and in my excitement ended up bringing the older bulbs out and giving them a little water too. In a normal year I just throw the dormant bulbs outside in April and let them bloom right alongside the tulips, but this year I thought ‘the more the merrier’ and as a result I’m ending the winter with an amaryllis (Hippeastrum) extravaganza. I’ve had these bulbs at least seven years now and if I remember to give them a little attention after flowering they reward me each spring with a fantastic color show.

The bright red and pure white are perfect for Christmas… or I guess Easter 🙂

It sounds slightly ungrateful but of all the colors, Christmas red and snowy white are not what I’m normally looking for come springtime. This of course was not what I was considering years ago when I picked the bulbs up for $1 a piece at some box-store clearance shelf… but please humor me as I shamelessly brag about how well they are doing now. Each pot is already showing at least four bloom stalks a piece, and the plants themselves are on the verge of nearly overwhelming the dining room table, even with less than half the flower stalks open. On the edge of the group you barely notice the last of the newbies, a delicate pink-flushed mini white named ‘Trentino’.

Bigger may not necessarily be better as in the case of this ‘mini’ amaryllis ‘Trentino’.

Once it warms up outside (assuming it ever does) new and old amaryllis will all go out into a semi-shaded spot, get hooked up to the same drip irrigation system that waters the summer annuals, and will be ignored until November. If I feel generous I’ll send some liquid fertilizer their way but for the most part they’re on their own. If there’s a trick to it all I guess it’s that they sit in a gritty, peat-free soil mix which drains well, and they have a nice solid terracotta pot which breathes well and holds down their heavy tops. Well drained, plenty of moisture, and a good feeding… mine enjoy that.

Geraniums blooming more than they should under the lights of the winter garden. A better gardener would probably remove the flowers for the sake of stronger growth and a healthier spring transplant.

You may notice the attractive plastic sheeting which forms a subtle backdrop to the amaryllis photos. The sheeting keeps the dust and debris of a kitchen remodel from drifting into the rest of the house, and also keeps us from enjoying the charms of a useable sink or stove. If I try hiding indoors too long from the brutality of our latest arctic blast, eventually I need a new place to hide from the mayhem a kitchen run out of the living room…. so I escape to the garage and the winter garden.

The scented leaved geraniums (Pelargonium) are also blooming under the lights. The flowers are a treat, but I love the lemony scents which come off the foliage each time I move a plant or water a neighbor.

For a while the winter garden was being ignored. Spring was early and I was back outside enjoying snowdrops, then crocus, and then daffodils… but now winter is back and I’m pretending it didn’t all happen and I’m just doing the regular sowing and repotting of late winter. Because I foolishly brought sprouting bulb seedlings in during a December freeze I’m now at the point where I can dig seedlings out and see what grew. Here’s a mixed potful of one and two year old Allium Christophii bulblets which just recently went dormant. I’m fascinated even though a less than polite reader might point out I could get a bagful of blooming sized bulbs for under $10 this fall.

A few Allium christophii seedlings all grown up into pea sized bulblets. I’ll plant them outside next year and hopefully see flowers in another two or three years. I’m sure at that point I’ll wonder where they came from, since I’ll definitely forget where I planted them!

I find it interesting that even though I sowed the seeds shallowly, most have migrated to the very bottom of their four inch pots. Readers of Ian Young’s Bulb Log at the Scottish Rock Garden Club will already know this since Mr. Young has observed this repeatedly, but for me to see it myself is of course more fun.

Second year for a tulip seedling. In the middle of the photo you can see the dried rice-sized husk of last year’s bulb, if you follow this year’s root to the right (which would have grown deeper into the pot) you will find the newly formed pea sized bulb from this season. Maybe by next year we’ll be up to kidney bean size 🙂

I was also happy to find one of my fall snowdrops has made a nice sized offset. I would have thought the double shoot from the top would have split the bulb into two, but instead it has just sprouted a new bulb off to the side. So I guess that means there will be three growing tips next fall!

One of my special snowdrops, a fall blooming Galanthus elwessi monosticus which a friend picked up for me at Nancy Goodwin’s Montrose Gardens in Hillsborough North Carolina.

Not all my escape gardening happens in seclusion. Occasionally I have a helper and this year that helper has been assisting in writing out some of the many plant labels which go along with all the odds and ends which get seeded out. She may actually do a neater job than I do, and her talent for labeling in Latin is impressive.

The cut up vinyl blinds which I use for plant labels. Plain old lead pencil seems to last for decades and I’ve found a few still readable in the garden, one going back to ’91 for a dogwood seedling which I apparently smuggled out of Longwood Gardens in a pocket…

Also impressive is one of my newest treasures. It’s a Cyclamen Rhodium seedling from my visit to John Lonsdale’s Edgewood Gardens, and it’s blooming in spite of having been dumped out of its pot not even three minutes after John handed it off to me. He was very forgiving of my clumsiness, but I never did mention that I dumped it over again a second time as I got into my car. Fortunately it survived, and although John suggested that I give this one a try outdoors in a sheltered spot (planted six or more inches deep once it goes dormant), I’m not sure if I’m brave enough to risk its health a third time.

A really cool Cyclamen rhodium from the Southern Peloponnese and island of Rhodes in Greece. Nice flower but look at that speckled foliage!

So that’s how things are going here in my own sheltered locations. I have some promising tomato seedlings sprouting as well as eggplant and peppers, but it will be a few days before the damage outside becomes definite. Already things such as roses, lilacs and daffodils look rough, but for as long as I can stay in denial I will. Maybe the hyacinth will bloom so much stronger next year now that their blooms have all been frozen off. A gardener can hope 🙂

The Iceman Cometh

Apr3

I made a point of getting the lawn mowed Saturday. I wanted to have things nice and neat for when the snow comes.

Bright yellow daffodils, blue hyacinths and a freshly cut lawn. The front border is looking very spring-ish with its mix of sprouting perennials and flowering spring bulbs. Please ignore the upended chairs which the nasty wind has blown over.

Although things are way too early this year, all my efforts to convince them to slow down have gone unheeded. The plants just don’t know what to do with this rollercoaster ride of highs and lows and as a result it’s been a kind of crappy spring with snowdrops peaking and then wilting in a few days of heat, hailstorms knocking everything down, cold weather keeping the depressing wreckage at a standstill, another warm spell to snap things back into high speed, and then now this latest arctic blast. Here’s the front border six days prior when only a few weather beaten crocus were up. At least I had enough time to raid the neighborhood dump and mulch the border with plenty of nicely chopped leaves.

mixed perennial border mulched with leaves

A nice mulch of shredded leaves will do wonders smothering the weeds this summer and feeding the soil all spring. I wish I had more!

In less than a week we’ve jumped ahead to the peak of the daffodil season. Last fall I wanted to mix in a few more of the bright yellows so I snapped up a batch of 50 from Van Engelen and haphazardly spread them throughout the border. I tend to enjoy a more natural look and the scattered planting combined with the wildflowery long noses on this cultivar makes them appear as if they’ve been there much longer than a few months. I don’t know if I’ve ever mentioned this or if I’ve repeated it a dozen times, but daffodils which hold on to the long trumpets and backswept petals of the original N. cyclamineus species are by far my favorite types 🙂

Daffodil ‘Tweety Bird’, a product of Brent and Becky Heath’s breeding program, filling in where I pulled out an invasive burning bush last fall.

One, and possibly the only, thing good about frequent cold spells is that some of the daffodils are showing their deepest, glamour shot colors without the fading which normally occurs in the warmer weather. Here in a cool bed which is shaded by a fence, ‘Jetfire’ is looking almost fluorescent with its orange cup. I’ve never seen it this bright before, and hopefully this is a good start for this bed since I’m still into the months long process of killing the most persistent weeds here with a double shot of thick mulch and weed killing spray. Maybe by the start of this summer I can finally refill this open land with all kinds of new goodies!

Narcissus (or daffodil if you prefer) ‘Jetstar’ blooming with some unusually bright color this spring. This is one of my most reliable daffs 🙂

Another thing you may or may not know is that I tend to have a lot of favorite daffodils, and that’s because I grow a good assortment to choose from, and I challenge anyone to stick to just one favorite! Narcissus ‘Rapture’ is an award winning, American bred daffodil with just the kind of cyclamineus genes I love. Look at those cute little reflexed petals and long trumpet! As you can see by the neighboring empty spots, not all daffodils have done as well in this location, since at one time this bed was fully planted.

A nice fat clump of Narcissus ‘Rapture’. If I didn’t already have so much yellow out front I’d surely spread this one around the mixed border along the street.

But of course the up and down weather is even beginning to wear on the daffodils. Arctic blasts of cold burnt the early tips of many of the more trusting varieties.

The jonquil types of daffodil sprout just a little too early for our zone. This is probably ‘Pipit’ or ‘Hillstar’ and even in a good year the tips of the foliage get singed by too cold weather extremes.

It’s all or nothing for some of these daffodils which carry the genes of the more southern N. jonquilla. If it’s a cold winter they hunker down and don’t poke up their heads until the weather has settled, but in an unsettled winter they keep on trying to get started during every warm spell.

Narcissus ‘Tiny Bubbles’ with a freeze damaged ‘Kokopelli’ behind it. I like the dainty flowers on ‘Tiny Bubbles’ but I wish either the foliage was shorter or the blooms up a little higher.

The unsettled winter crushed this year’s hellebore show. I should have seen that coming since last fall they looked better than ever and were poised to bloom their heads off. So much for that.

Here’s one which managed to come out and open perfectly between the frigid blasts of cold. There are singed and damaged flowers all around but this one with its dark centers and perfectly veined blooms is enough to make me smile.

Of course I have my favorites among the hellebores as well.

Even with a few damaged centers and singed outers the buttery yellow of this hellebore keeps it on my best-of-the-hellebores list 🙂

Any opinions on this picotee hellebore growing in the front border? It’s doing very well in spite of the fact nearly all its neighbors were frozen back to their crowns…

Would you call this a yellow picotee hellebore? I like the red shading and subtle color, but suspect it might not jump out at everyone.

I guess it’s time for a reality check. Here are the daffodils this morning as the cold wind howls outside.

The front foundation border once again covered in snow.

To be honest I hope the snow predicted for tonight also comes through. The garden can use a little bit of extra cover to help it out when the low temperatures drop to 19F (-7C) for both Monday and Tuesday. Whatever.

All the early bulbs flattened and frozen by a late cold snap. You can bet my fingers are crossed they make it through this….

It’s normal for everything to wilt as it freezes, and that’s a good thing since too much water in the stems will cause them to burst as the water expands, but I’m not sure exactly what else will survive the upcoming deep freeze. I’m writing off the wisteria, even the barely expanded buds will most likely die off, and the hyacinths will be mush, but I’m most worried about the tulips and daffodils. A few years ago a one night cold snap permanently ‘did in’ a bunch of tulips, this longer spell has me more worried, and I have many more now than I did back then.

C’est la vie. Maybe I’ll order a few new cannas today, and dream of a beautiful June garden. April and May are kind of iffy right now, but as long as the birds sing and the sun is warm we’ll be fine…. tulips or not.

sorta like suburbia

more than you ever wanted to know about my garden

Category Archives: late winter