Here Comes the Sun

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.

snowdrop collections

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.

snowdrop collections

‘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.

crocus tatra shades

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

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

eranthis winter aconite varieties

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!

eranthis winter aconite varieties

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.

snowdrop collections

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. 

snowdrop collections

‘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

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.

brandywine hybrids hellebore

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.

david culps galanthus gala

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 adonis amurensis

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.

edgewood galanthus blewbury tart

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.

edgewood gardens

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 🙂

snowdrops with winter aconite

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.

Off to the Gala!

I have a gift.  Many people have special gifts, but mine is the gift of chaos.  I’ve been told that in the midst of chaos I come across as very calm, but the truth is I’m just used to it, since for as far back as I can remember whenever things can go wrong they did, and when it can’t possibly look worse it does, and I guess the silver lining is that it always works out in the end.  Kind of along the same line of thought as “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger”… except I’m not sure I’d like to push it that far, and I’m just fine sticking with ‘What doesn’t ruin everything might make for a nice story in a few years’.  To sum it up, eventually the birthday stitches come out, the garden tour which finished up in the ER becomes a story, and you find a new job after cutting the vacation trip short.

eranthis lightning

Melting snow has finally arrived, and this exceptionally early winter aconite (Eranthis hyemalis ‘Lightning’) and a few other early risers can finally begin to show off.

I was lucky this time.  No toothache on Christmas Eve, but with a table to set up at David Culp’s Galanthus Gala in Downington Pa this Saturday, I shouldn’t have been surprised something would happen.  First the car went.  I wanted to finish up making labels but first the car had to get to the dealer.  Then the water heater went.  I just wanted to pot up a few more things.  Then the garage door broke when I wanted to move things out and into the other car.  Then my nephew told me he was indeed sick and would not be able to help sell… and would also not be able to give my other helper a ride down to Downington.  Good times, but also silver lining time.  We were able to lift the garage door and roll the car out, the repair bill came in about 2k less than expected, the door is also set for repair, the heater is fixed, a new helper has been tapped,and  a new plan to get the other helper down has been set up… even the labels got done.  Was it touch and go for a few hours?  Maybe, but I’m back to excited and won’t even consider the repair bills until after this weekend’s adventure!

snowdrop wendy's gold

‘Wendy’s Gold’ is probably my favorite for an early bright spot.  She waits for the first warm days, sprouts, and never looks back.

So that’s enough woe is me for one post because seriously it’s just life for every one else, except for me there’s the added fun of ‘dramatic timing’.  The thing happens and I just look to the heavens and say “good one.  Did not even see that one coming”.

winter damage hellebores

Winter interest in the garden is about done for the season.  Should old hellebore foliage be removed before blooming?  I would have to say yes, and that might be the first thing I do once things calm down here.

So tomorrow in spite of whatever still comes my way I’m off to the Gala with my goodies.   It’s been a solidly cold winter… one which coincidentally seemed to start the day after I agreed to sell a few things from the garden… but the silver lining is a burst of warmth in the days right before.  Let me share how a few things have turned out.

galanthus gala downington

With everything freezing solid outside, I potted up a few clumps of English bluebells (Hyacinthoides non-scripta) for a just-in-case scenario.  English bluebells are kinda awesome and fairly hard to find so of course I’m keeping a bunch.

There will be English bluebells, spring snowflakes (Leucojum vernum), and of course snowdrops and winter aconite.  They look pretty good and I would buy them, but not everything came through.  Another just-in-case scenario had potfuls of species tulips, and they just don’t look like much so I’m leaving them here.  Really.  They are barely sprouting and don’t look like much so in the garage they stay and I’m absolutely not leaving them behind because I want more species tulips.

galanthus gala downington

Leucojum vernum out of the garden of my friend Paula.  I think they look great and if you’re thinking how much?  I suppose $25 a pot will be the price even though I’m worried they’ll all sell and they’re another thing I wouldn’t mind having more of in the garden.

Besides the threat of chaos there’s another thing which gives me sweaty palms on the eve of the Gala.  I’m not a good salesman.  I don’t really want to get rid of any of my snowdrops so I’d actually be just fine bringing dozens back and replanting them, and I’m afraid my sales pitch will reflect that.  They look so nice all potted up.  It makes me think of a greenhouse filled with pot after pot of perfect snowdrops and what a shame it would be if I had to build a greenhouse next week because just having snowdrops in the ground isn’t good enough anymore.  Hmmm.

galanthus gala downington

Some of the potted goodies awaiting the sale.  A few varieties were potted up too early and did not like the last cold blast (their flowers were burned) but most look quite happy.  I hope there’s enough variety to be interesting.

If you’ve been to the Gala you may know there’s an auction which goes on.  My friend Paula gave me a drop to donate, and I know I’ll feel a little light-headed when I hand it over.  A Dutch drop named in 2020, ‘Snowdropfever’s Nelly’s Birthday’ is a vigorous, early, large-flowered snowdrop with strong green markings on the outer petals, and a full green inner.  It’s about ready to split into three bulbs, which of course will make for an even better show next year, but even now I think it looks just dandy.  Of course Paula found a small offset to share with me, she knows how I am.  I hope it grows quickly!

galanthus snowdropfevers Nell's Birthday

Galanthus ‘Snowdropfevers Nelly’s Birthday’.  I think it’s been in bloom at least two weeks and the green has only faded a bit.  It’s a cool drop.

So I’m looking forward to the day.  Oddly enough I won’t even be behind my own table, I’ll be helping out at Edgewood Gardens, only a few steps away, and hopefully that is far enough so I don’t keep taking things off my own table “on second thought” to take back home, because between that and all the other vendor tables there’s a high probability the car is fuller on the return trip than it was going down.  We will see.

If I see you there, great!  If I don’t I shall try this time (just like I try and fail every time) to take some decent pictures of the day to share later on.  Maybe I’ll even try and take a picture of a person or two, because I notice that people somehow manage to do that in spite of all the horticultural distractions and maybe it’s time I broaden my horizons 😉

Gala or not I wish you a wonderful weekend, and I hope you’re also finally experiencing some sort of a warmup and feeling the promise of spring!

Brrrrrrrrrr

Damn groundhog.  After all the work we put into the Days of Plantness the stupid groundhog has to go see his shadow and bring six more weeks of winter onto us all.  Everything here is trying to sprout, but it’s just one cold night after another and I can only imagine the mess that would be if we didn’t do Plantness in January.  It could be colder.  We haven’t had much snow.  I bet that extra orchid I bought stopped a blizzard or something so you’re welcome.

Of course this is the year that I was hoping for a mild winter and early spring so that I could do a few really important things in February, mainly get a bunch of snowdrops ready to bring to a certain Galathus Gala for a sales table.  Yeah, a sales table.  Long story short, last November I  was convinced by someone that I’m capable of selling snowdrops at this year’s Galanthus Gala in Downingtown Pa, so we will see… and perhaps you will see it as well if you make it down there in two weeks!  I think the in-person talks and early entry are all sold out (click >here< for ticket info) but from ten through the afternoon anyone can stop by just to look and browse, and even if you’re outside the area, virtual tickets for all the talks are also available.  I’m anxiously excited yet a little nervous.  Anonymity is so much easier when you’re not lined up against a wall at a table, and I am a big fan of being anonymous at these things 😉

galanthus gala snowdrops

I potted up a bunch of snowdrops in December “just in case” and so far so good.  Here they are open to the elements for a breather.  I’m not crazy about a frosting of ice, but they seem to like it.

So.  The cold.  Maybe that’s got me a little nervous as well.  Hopefully all the goodies which are, and are yet-to-be, potted up will not be locked up in ice the day I need to load the car, but of course that couldn’t happen and I’m positive everything will be fine.  Surely this cold can’t last forever… unless it does… and this week it feels like it could.

snowy landscape

An icy frosting to the garden

In spite of the cold and frequent snow and ice, the snowdrops at least are anxious to grow!  It’s absolutely amazing when a frozen earth with air temperatures barely above freezing can produce sprouts from one day to the next!  The plants have spoken, and are rising up in spite of that fat little groundhog’s prediction to bring a little springtime vibe to an icy garden.  I may be biased, but snowdrops are pretty amazing for what they do.

galanthus castle plum

Under the shelter of an evergreen, ‘Castle Plum’ is ready to go.  Our one warm day tomorrow will open these blooms right up.

So in defiance of the cold I was supposed to visit my friend Paula today for a few more sales table snowdrops, but more predicted snow and an observation of frozen earth, and her “if you really insist on coming maybe you can pickaxe up a chunk of frozen muddy sprouts to take home” suggestion, pushed me over to the side of better sense and the visit is rescheduled for Monday.  Tomorrow the snow is to change over to rain alongside a rise in temperatures, and perhaps slimy mud is better than hacking out chunks of ice.

winter damage hellebore

Winter interest is starting to get old around here.  I can’t wait to trim the hellebores and clear things out for the coming show!

In the meantime I’m trying to avoid spending too much time staring out windows and imagining the perfect year to come.  I haven’t been distracted by skiing this year in spite of the excellent conditions (and I blame kids with their own drivers licenses and friends who are “aging out” for this), and to be honest I was almost bored a few days ago when weather kept me inside and I just didn’t care enough to finish fixing a burst water line or carry water to the basement plants.  I think I’m suffering garden withdrawl.

primula obconica

A primrose purchased “for a friend” but then I just couldn’t be home any of the times she offered to stop by to pick it up.  Hmmm.  I feel terrible about that.

We will carry on.  I’m somewhat excited but can feel myself on the edge of that manic snowdrop fever and it’s scary.  There’s not even a thought of going back to the days when I’d pretend they were no big deal, and of course it will be fun seeing it all return.  Just one more cold week and then snowdrops, witch hazel, winter aconite, willows… and all will start bursting out with every new sunny day to fill the garden again.

Hang in there and have a great weekend!

A Little Push

It looks like our tediously warm and dry autumn has finally made a turn towards wet, cold, and winter.  Warm and dry isn’t the worst thing, but when the days stretch into weeks and the autumn foliage is more a giving up on life it gets old.  The garden I enjoy is full of life and surprises and when it’s day after day of plants giving up I lose interest, and when interest is lost motivation follows.  I looked at the racks of tulips waiting to be planted.  I looked at the dry, baked-hard, beds where they were to be planted.  I turned around and went back inside.

But now things have made a complete turnaround, with a day of steady rain followed by a night of snow which continued into the next day.  In all it might be two inches of rain and as the snow melts into the ground I think the garden has finally received the soaking it needed and the gardener  might have to get back on board.  While the snow is melting the bored gardener has gone into the archives to see if he can find some tulip planting motivation, and even if he’s not exactly bubbling over with enthusiasm to go out and dig, at least he’s been shamed into taking a little better care of the unplanted bulbs.

perennial tulips

Tulips in the front border this previous spring.  Fortunately these seem happy enough coming back on their own each year with little effort on my part, although it’s well past time a few bunches were dug and divided.

I’ve been digging and dividing the tulips in the back garden for a few years now, trying to get ahead of the tulip fire (a type of fungal botrytis blight) which has infected the soil back there.  The digging, replanting, and mulching had helped but then this spring, right as the tulips were coming into growth and blooming, a string of cool, rainy weather hit and the problem went from ok to all over the place with each rain shower.  April showers may bring May flowers, but when May is also full of cool and damp weather it just brings botrytis to the tulips and that’s not fun.

perennial tulips

The purple of Lunaria annua (honesty or money plant) mixes and contrasts well with the yellows and pinks of the tulips.  Unlike AI suggests, this plant is a biennial so don’t be fooled by the scientific name.

Although the botrytis is not fun, the worser part is the smaller bulbs I dug as a result of their infected foliage.  Digging big healthy bulbs is one of the June joys of the garden and when you’re just finding medium or stunted bulbs… again, not fun.  It also didn’t help that June went from cool and damp to hot and dry all of a sudden, triggering the bulbs into an early dormancy, so add that to the list of reasons the gardener has not been feeling the tulip-love this summer.

perennial tulips

Tulips in the potager beds, the worst areas for botrytis and the area where all the tulips are dug each summer.

The tulip love is back though, and after seeing the reminder of what it looked like last spring  it makes me wonder how I ever even considered thinking poorly about one of my favorite plants.  Surely it’s the lazy side of me searching for excuses to pass on the planting and find alternate homes for the bulbs.  It’s like a flashback to the year I found rot in the bulb trays and with great disgust tossed everything onto the compost pile, only to have tulips coming up beautifully all over it the next spring, and have compost laced with bulbs the next summer.

I shall plant… soon I hope.  It depends on when the snow melts, and how cold it gets for Thanksgiving.  And when I dig the cannas and dahlias and plant the garlic, since that’s also on the to-do list since little in the way of planting or digging has been done while the ground has been so dry.  Even the fall-blooming snowdrops have looked depressed and droopy, although not a single bloom was lost to slugs this year…

Galanthus Barnes

Galanthus ‘Barnes’.  One of the earliest for me with only this one late group still in flower.  The rest were less photogenic as they wilted and dried out far too quickly in the sun.

There has been one ultra-positive thing which has turned up this autumn, and that’s the bags of leaves which friends have given me and the row of filled bags which greeted me one evening as I pulled in after work.  My nephew came through with a collection from one of his lawn jobs and I’m proud to say they’re already all spread about and settling down to feed the garden underneath the snow.

using leaves in the garden

A driveway filled with bags of nicely mulched leaves.  A gardener’s delight!

Forgive me for not sharing any snow pictures.  The total for our town was in the 7 inch range and it looked beautiful from the inside looking out, but one day later and the higher elevations are still digging out, repairing powerlines, and removing downed trees, as it was a very heavy snow and their totals were almost twice what we received.  For hours the interstate was closed.  I’ve sat for hours on a closed interstate on a snowy mountain pass in the middle of nowhere and I can vouch it’s no fun.

Fingers crossed that my next post has a ‘tulips planted’ comment, and it’s not something which involved chipping through ice during the Christmas holidays.  We will see, in any case I hope it’s a fun time.

Corydalis Solida

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 😉

corydalis solida

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

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.

corydalis solida

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

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.

galanthus peardrop

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

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!

spring garden

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.

garden hellebores

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…

spring garden

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.

spring garden

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

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.

galanthus octopussy

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.

galanthus narwhal

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.

galanthus starling

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.

galanthus flocon de neige

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.

galanthus angeligue

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.

galanthus galadriel

‘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.

galanthus s arnott

‘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.

spring hellebores

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.

spring hellebores

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?

winter snowdrops

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 ice baby snow baby

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.

spring snsowflake leucojum vernum

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!

Gala Countdown

Just one more day and David Culp’s Galanthus Gala is a go and of course I’m ready.  Early entry to the hall on Saturday and in person attendance at the talks has been sold out for a couple weeks, but after 10am anyone can stroll in to shop the sales tables, and there’s also a virtual option for the talks.  If you’re in the mood and can make it to Downingtown Pa I’d say go for it!  There is nothing similar anywhere else in the US, and the range of rare and special things for sale under one roof will be unparalleled.

galanthus flore pleno double

The most common double snowdrop, Galanthus flore pleno.

Rare and special is great, but let me take a minute to go on about the most common snowdrop cultivar out there.  First I apologize to everyone (including myself) who are excited about the latest and greatest, but the double version of the common snowdrop (G. nivalis) really does earn its keep and its place in just about any snowdrop garden.  Flore pleno doesn’t complain much as long as you remember it’s a little piglet who likes a nice mulch, fertile soil, and eventually division since it does tend to clump up quickly and will overcrowd if neglected.  It’s also sterile, not that it matters much, but when you consider how widespread it is via stray bulblets and sharing that’s quite impressive, plus sterile flowers tend to stay in bloom longer and don’t spend energy on seeds, so that’s another reason it consistently puts on a good show.   My friend Paula states it’s the best snowdrop for filling beds with bloom, and I agree.

galanthus flore pleno double

Flore pleno, the double snowdrop, in one of the damper parts of the garden.

Ten years ago, Paula gave me my Flore pleno start with a little baggie of about 25 freshly dug bulbs, and over just a few years they’ve grown into hundreds.  Their original spot was too dry and bare and the bulbs barely bloomed, but once moved into a more woodland setting they exploded.  I’m really beginning to like their “messy” and “common” look, and for a while dedicated an entire bed to Flore pleno and her related forms.  I named it my ‘White Trash’ bed and and it’s everything special even when they’re not that special.

galanthus elwesii

An unamed, common Galanthus elwesii.  I have a few like this and love how they always look surprised and confused.

I’m sure you’d guess that many parts of my garden are filled with things which are not that special.  I’ll be excited to consider expensive little things in tiny pots this weekend but even the premier ones which I bring home are destined to share their new bed-space with the peasantry.  By the way the peasants in the front street border are multiplying with abandon, and each year I’m closer to sweeps of self-seeding winter aconite and snowdrops.  In just a few more years even the most refined eye may have to acknowledge their enthusiastic masses.

snowdrops and winter aconite

I need more witch hazel.  Two were lost when the bulldozers came through and how can I have snowdrops and winter aconite without an overstory of flowering witch hazel?

Okay, I have to admit that even with this talk of a love for the most common I did fall for plenty of special snowdrops which were more special because they had a name.  Today I realize they all kinda look alike but I still can’t honestly say I regret adding them to the garden or that I’d do things differently.  Each is its own treasure (says no one other than a snowdrop-nut) and many have their own story which comes to mind when they sprout each spring.

galanthus robin hood

Galanthus ‘Robin Hood’ is an old variety which may date to the 1800’s and is not the latest and greatest but is quite nice anyway.

But it’s late and stories always go on, so let’s wrap up this pre-Gala post.

galanthus john gray

Probably only about 100 years old as a cultivar, ‘John Gray’ is still sought out and planted.  He’s a stretcher here and I think would display better on a slope but who knows when that move will happen.

I’m sure I’ll add a few things.  I always do and it has started to become obvious when you look at the beds.

galanthus the wizard

‘The Wizard’ is a nice tall, more recent introduction, with nice green marks on the outers and even a little touch of green up top.  I like him.

…unless you visit ‘Norfolk Blonde’.  She just sulks, special or not.

galanthus norfolk blonde

Another year of choosing life, ‘Norfolk Blonde’ has even flowered again this spring.  A better gardener would have moved her to a better spot years ago, or at least cleared her some breathing room, but no.  I actually enjoy complaining about her 🙂

Did I mention that common or not, the season is early?  Probably, and things are about ready to peak even though just by a leap it’s still February.  Nearly everything has been convinced it’s time to come up and I guess they’re on to something.  After tonight’s cold I don’t even see a single night below freezing for the entire first half of March, and that’s crazy.  Quite a few 50’s and 60’s sit in the forecast and I suspect this will rush the season ahead even more.

snowdrops and winter aconite

‘Merlin’ in front backed by ‘Mrs Backhouse #12’, two very common and not-cutting edge snowdrop varieties.

And here we are, finishing up just before bedtime.  As always I apologize for the rambling and nonsense but maybe for just one year I can remember to take a few pictures worth posting from the Gala.  Maybe.  They’re all likely to be plant photos, but I’ll try to remember some readers are also interested in people and perhaps I can accommodate.  Just don’t tell my family, sometimes they mention how many plant photos I have and how few birthday, Christmas, etc there are and I don’t think adding pictures of random, non-family plant people will help the debate.

Winter Flowers

Last weekend was beautiful.  Technically we’re in the depths of winter, but with a January thaw which has blended into a February thaw winter just doesn’t even seem to be trying this year.  Part of me doesn’t mind, but the other part misses the weeks of nothing to do but curl up in a blanket indoors and that bounty of weather-imposed reading and puzzle time.  A lack of snow and an abundance of mild days doesn’t offer the same break, and in fact can be exhausting with all the poking and shuffling around -hunched over of course- which needs to be done on a daily basis.  Also there’s the idea that this is just the start of ever increasingly warm winters and the anxiety over where it will end… yeah that’s also slightly concerning…

winter aconite eranthis bee

Honeybees busy visiting the winter aconite (Eranthis hyemalis).  Plant nerds may notice the bee sits on the straight yellow species while the blooms behind are seedlings of the more apricot ‘Schwefelglantz’, but I don’t think the bees care. 

But this week my only consideration is that I’m enjoying winter aconite, snowdrops, witch hazel, and other winter flowers in the middle of February.

snowdrops

Snowdrops close to the house are in full bloom.  

The pattern and schedule of these flowers is oddly different than the order I’ve become accustomed to.  Some late snowdrops are in full bloom, some early ones are barely up, flowers in the later, more shaded beds are beating out flowers in protected spots, and it seem all kinds of disorganized but I’m sure there’s a logic which escapes me.

winter aconite eranthis

More of the straight Eranthis hyemalis, it’s been seeding about and patches are finally forming.  

Strangely enough many of the other bulbs are still a little wary of the mild temperatures.  I don’t blame them since it’s hard to trust a spring which shows up in the middle of winter, and there’s bound to be an argument somewhere along the line before May and I’d rather not face the frozen wreckage of a spring garden which trusted a little too blindly.

galanthus egret

This is Galanthus ‘Egret’ and I like it more and more each spring as it clumps up and settles in.  Like the wings of a bird the flowers take flight when fully open.

Ok, one more complaint about a fabulously early and moderate spring.  Without a foot of frozen soil and an inch or two of crusty old ice and snow holding everything back the pace of spring seems less exciting.  Even with a string of mild days there’s no explosion of new blooms or a string of new flowers opening hour by hour, and it’s more measured and contemplative.  I love the excitement of a spring explosion, but I’m also foolish to complain when it doesn’t happen.  Four out of five days I’m stuck at work for the explosion and it’s sad cramming it in to the 48 minutes between getting out of the car and  the sun going down so just forget I ever mentioned that last complaint.

galanthus blewbury tart

Another snowdrop which took a few years to grow on me, galanthus ‘Blewbury Tart’.

With spring smoldering outside the fever inside is burning, and I’m moving into dangerous territory with a risky date on the horizon.  In case you don’t know March 2nd is Galanthus Gala time, and for me that means a trip to Downingtown PA to meet up with fellow snowdrop fans to browse the snowdrop vendors, consider other rare plant purchases, listen to snowdrop-themed talks, and enjoy the enthusiastic bidding of the Gala auction.  Since 2017 David Culp has been hosting this event and if you’re interested in specifics the ticket site can be found >here< …although I have to warn you that tickets for everything other than the streaming online access are already sold out.  But don’t fret.  Free admission runs from 10-4 and perhaps missing the opening frenzy and enjoying the sales tables while the masses have moved on to the lectures isn’t the worst approach.  Here’s another link, this one to the Gala Facebook page which has more info on the vendors and the event, and even though nobody asked I’m going to give away my method for approaching this sale.

Walk in and start talking to someone.  Ignore the selling frenzy.  Talk to more people.  Examine what others are buying and randomly stalk the people who are carrying the coolest plants.  Make it (hopefully) less awkward by asking them about their favorites.  Eventually start looking at plants.  Try to make a full circuit without buying anything because there’s no way you can afford buying everything you want.  Go back to the start and see what’s left and only then can you start buying.  Trust me you’ll save a ton of money this way and still end up with too much… plus on the first round let’s be honest, everyone has a cheat list with a special snowdrop or witch  hazel or two on it, so maybe I could be entirely understanding if you falter and pick up a few things on the first round 😉

galanthus moyas green

If I didn’t already have one I’d consider ‘Moya’s Green’ to be worth adding to the cheat list.  It’s been a good grower here, large blooms, the green fades in warmer weather but don’t we all?

Sorry, I didn’t expect to go on like that.  It’s a weeknight and bedtime approaches so here’s where the warm weekend went.

galanthus rosemary burnham

I was relieved to see ‘Rosemary Burnham’ returning after I ripped up the boxwoods here and seeded grass.  It will be interesting to see how she holds up to the new environment, and it will be interesting to see if the stray sprouts are more Rosemary or some equally interesting seedlings.

snowdrops

One of my favorite snowdrops out of the bulk elwesii bulbs.  Large flowers and nice foliage, they just don’t like a cold snap after sprouting.   

A warm weekend in February will almost always bring on a cold snap and here we are.  Snow and some colder weather but nothing for most plants to worry about.  I’m actually loving the sunshine and brisk weather.

adonis amurensis 'fukujukai'

I rarely get home in time to see this one open in the sun, but today I did.  Adonis amurensis ‘fukujukai’.

Fortunately it’s not too brisk, and the snow is melting faster than it can pack down and turn to ice and the plants should be fine.  Even better it will slow the season down and keep the more tender things from thinking it’s time to grow.

galanthus s arnott

Galanthus ‘S. Arnott’ in the afternoon light.

Actually with things not growing yet I can imagine my beds are riddled with empty spots and perhaps I should go all out on the first round.  Hmmm.

Have a great week, whether or not your days are warm or brisk, and trust me this isn’t the last you’ll hear of Galas or snowdrops 😉