Gala Countdown

Mar1

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.

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.

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.

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.

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’ 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.

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.

‘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.

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.

‘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.

Just a Minute

Feb22

I’m trapped inside again. It was a beautifully sunny three day weekend yet last week’s snow has refused to melt. The temperatures haven’t been particularly cold but each night is cold enough. Nothing is happening and I’m beside myself with boredom. So of course I’m again getting myself into trouble in the winter garden 🙂

An arrangement of goodies under the fluorescent lights in the garage.

Even just a few years back I used to treasure each shoot and sprout, and anything worth rooting or potting up was saved, but things have escalated and a firmer hand is needed. I spent my restless days aggressively trimming things back and tossing the extra cuttings into the compost bucket. You’ll have to take my word that even as I still pot up just a few cuttings here and there I still have way more than I need and nearly as many (but not quite as many) as a somewhat normal person would want.

I’m ridiculously obsessed with these everlasting florist cyclamen this winter. They’ve doubled and tripled in size and really enjoy the sometimes chilly, always sunny spots they have under the growlights.

So as winter tries to toughen up again this year I’ll just hide. On the ride to work I can see enough of the nightly argument between open water and the freezing weather, but so far it’s a stalemate which the open water is bound to win by next week. That’s when I’m declaring a winner and a full on start to snowdrop season but in the meantime I see two more cold nights to get through.

A bargain red cyclamen was snapped up after Valentine’s Day and a fuchsia cutting from last summer is looking quite nice under this light.

Friday and Saturday will be cold, but after that it’s nothing but spring. Early spring, some would say, some would even say late winter, but I’m ready to get started, even if ‘getting started’ means a lot of poking around and looking rather than any kind of energetic to-do list.

Calendula “test” seedlings which were raised under the new LED shoplights are doing nicely although I did kill one through a little too much water after a little too much drought…

Maybe dividing and replanting snowdrops will be a nice start. I’ve been making up new labels this week and am nearly up to 2016 plantings so as you can guess that’s moving along nicely, even though with 8+ years in the same spot I’ve kind of learned who’s who but you never know when the memory’s going to start fading… plus they’re lovely new labels so I’m sure all the visitors will appreciate it.

Coleus cutting season will start this week. By May I should have a couple flats ready to plant out and who doesn’t need a few flats of coleus to plant out?

I did possibly get into a little extra trouble though. Once I had an opening into the new basement space I thought what the heck let me hang a few lights and throw some spare furniture back there even though it’s years from being finished… and that’s where I am now. Even unheated it’s a remarkably popular area and I’m worried it will be difficult to evict visitors once I begin a serious effort towards creating my basement greenhouse/ solarium/ orangerie. You would think there isn’t another spare room in the house or another whole other side to the basement. Trust me it wasn’t my idea to use up so much other space for a “gym” or “craft area” or “kids room”, I’ve always just wanted more room for plants 😉

A few bigger things overwintering and a few smaller things on a bench.

What harm is there in a few houseplants or more accurately basementplants? I think my track record of frugality, self-restraint, and modesty in all things plants speaks for itself and I’m sure a few more lights in a new space hardly mean anything. I’ll barely remember they’re down there when spring arrives next week. Snowdrop season and spring fever are practically synonymous with good judgement and responsible decisions so not to worry!

Have a great two more days of winter 😉

Winter Flowers

Feb15

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…

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 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.

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.

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.

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 😉

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.

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.

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.

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’ 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 😉

Oh No, Snow!

Jan6

Finally the news services have a cookbook story to run, with traditional tips on how to drive in snow, how to shop for snow, what to do when you’re trapped indoors, and maybe even a little about how much snow we will actually get. I may be showing my age, but I don’t think it sounds like as much as they’re making it out to be but I guess that’s boring and boring doesn’t trend. Better to make it into a catastrophe, a weather system gone wild, unsafe weather to fear or the tip of a weather conspiracy which big media is hiding from you but some random TikTok has exposed. Or it’s just going to snow. In winter. Like it always used to do but we are quick to forget.

Another interesting winter thing, Pachysandra procumbens is the North American version of the common Japanese pachysandra. A friend gave me this nicely marked form and I only paid attention to it this winter because another friend showed off his even better colored version.

I like snow, so I’m thrilled there’s going to be some and I have every intention of shoveling it and walking through it and embracing it. Nothing changes the garden as abruptly as a good snowfall and outside of a few brave snowdrops there’s been nothing new to see in the garden for weeks, so a change like this will be nice… until it melts… quickly… since it’s supposed to be nearly 50F the day after and then we’ll be back to winter-drab. But we’re already heading into January, and the longer range forecast shows nothing in the way of real cold so I believe we’ll see more snowdrops, the first winter aconites, and witch hazel blooming before the end of the month. It’s still winter but not like it used to be. Mid January will be here and the ground isn’t even frozen.

Galanthus ‘Faringdon Double’ has been the latest snowdrop to join the parade of winter bloomers. It’s been a sturdy grower for me, and I don’t think a few inches of snow will bother him at all.

Sure, maybe February will be cold, but I don’t think it will be. 2023 was the warmest year globally on record, -although someone argued that they didn’t swim much last summer so that must mean it maybe wasn’t-, but I’m going to argue that I have flowers coming up weeks earlier than normal and that’s more like last year than it is like anything else I’ve seen before, so let me continue to enjoy winter flowers.

Even though I do miss snow. At least we’ll have a day or two of it, so be safe and all the best for the weekend!

Countdown to Solstice

Dec21

The winter solstice approaches, the longest night of the year and the tipping point for earth as the Northern hemisphere begins to wobble its way back to a more full on exposure to the sun. Days will be getting longer and before you know it….

Well actually we still have an entire winter to face, the shift towards the sun takes a while and temperatures will still drop for another month or so until the increase in light exposure does its magic. In theory. Yesterday was winter and tonight as well, and looking at the forecast tonight might even drop as low as our average low for the day, which will be a first for the month, but beyond that it’s just warm and more warm.

A new snowdrop! Galanthus elwesii ‘Xmas’ has made a seasonable appearance and will be the closest thing to a white Christmas we see this year.

Right now I’m thrilled about the warmth and have been taking advantage of the open ground and diggable soil. Also I’ve been way too wound up about the snowdrops peaking out here and there as they poke up to consider the weather. I do a garden walkabout whenever it’s light enough, and with things in dormant mode there’s not much going on beyond a little poking and prodding to see who sprouted a tiny bit more, but imagine my surprise when I came across a new snowdrop in full bloom. A friend gave me a monster snowdrop bulb (Galanthus elwesii ‘Xmas’) and I should have known enough to be on the lookout around Christmas but it was still a shock to find it in full bloom this week. It’s a beauty. Quite similar to every other white snowdrop but so much more special, and it’s always amazing when something manages to pop up in this garden and escape my attention and prodding for so long.

‘Three Ships’ looking sad this year.

A snowdrop which hasn’t escaped my notice is another Christmas bloomer, ‘Three Ships’. It was doing so well for a few years until all of a sudden it wasn’t, and for at least three winters I keep hoping it will grow out of its slump but so far no luck. A neighboring drop is also in a slump and is possibly the source of the problem but as per my typical laziness I’m pulling a ‘thoughts and prayers’ and hoping something will change without me having to make a change. Maybe next summer I’ll finally make an adult decision and take action.

A freshly weeded and mulched snowdrop bed. It wasn’t intended as a snowdrop bed, but when a few more drops go in each year…

I may be waiting for the summer to save ‘Three Ships’ but the warm weather and emerging snowdrop noses have moved me to do a few bed cleanouts and some tidying up. I don’t have the luxury of heaps of nicely mulched autumn leaves for all of the beds, but I do have some well-done compost which works nearly as well, and having a few snowdrop beds cleaned and topped off seems like a nice way to go into the season. I guess being able to do this in December is great even though it takes twenty times longer since my body is into sitting around mode even more so than usual, and it also it doesn’t help when you actually break a sweat gardening in late December. It just seems wrong.

Christmas cookies will solve it though. I wished they solved everything but for this they work, and I hope you enjoy plenty of cookies, a wonderful solstice, and plenty of holiday celebrations as we round out the year.

A Boring November

Dec3

Must. make. post….

For a brief moment in time I had fallen under the impression that my autumn-hating self had made a turn for the better, and that the new me could embrace falling temperatures and a dialing back of the gardening year, but the last few weeks have proven that impression to be false. I’m apathetic and bored with the garden, bored with the to-do list, and bored with the plants. Even the onset of the Holiday season hasn’t snapped me out of it, although the annual visit to Longwood Gardens did at least motivate me to pull out the Christmas decorations and get a little into the mood here.

A ‘retro’ themed Longwood Gardens was as festive as ever with holiday song, lights, and decorations galore.

As usual it was a fun trip, and we had a groundbreaking addition this year as the boy wanted to take his girlfriend along for the visit. She was a delight of course, but who are these people I live with these days… people who have jobs and drive and have girlfriends? I wonder where my worm collecting and sandbox playing garden helpers have disappeared to.

Christmas decorations in the Music Room. The girl liked all the retro colors and style and I can see all the old becoming new again just as it often does.

Back at home I did at least manage to finish up the bulk of the garden cleanup and bring in the last of the tender things, just in time for our four cold days which actually managed to put a little frost into the soil and a skim of ice on the mountain lakes. Immediately the conversation turned to the impending winter and all the joys of snow and cold. Rumor around here is we are to expect a “bad” winter with a bunch of cold and snow all courtesy of an El Niño weather pattern, which to me sounds exciting but I wonder if it really stands a chance. Perhaps we do have the conditions for a nice Nor’easter pulling in all kinds of snowy moisture from the coast but I’m not sure I can completely put my trust in what “everyone” is saying. From what I gather 2023 is on track to be the warmest year ever recorded and I’m just not ready to put warmest year and bad winter together as a forecast… so as always we will wait and see what the actual local weather does.

Ready for winter with just a few still-too-nice to be cut down perennials and a few growing evergreens. The ‘Gold Cone’ juniper to the left is getting a bit sloppy as it approaches maturity and I’m debating taking an axe to it. The kids wanted it for Christmas though, so once the lights are off…

We will also have to wait and see what the gardener here does. I’m ready to leave this season of brown behind and move on to white. It can be snow or snowdrops, both will make me equally happy although I don’t know if my knee is ready for a season on the slopes yet… although kneeling is a critical part of snowdrop season as well…

I begged and borrowed my way to enough leaves to blanket the potager beds with a cover of mulch. Tulips have been planted in several and with or without snow it should be a nice April show.

I just checked the 10 day forecast. Only four days below freezing and an inch of rain next Sunday. Those lows are well onto the warm side of average in a month when we should be below freezing each night, and those lows are not exactly the weather we will need for a white Christmas.

Many plants will enjoy another mild winter. Lycoris houdyshellii on the left and L. radiata on the right will suffer foliage damage if it gets too cold for too long. Based on a twenty year average they shouldn’t survive here, but on a five year? …so far so good.

I apologize for a somewhat gloomy post on a gloomy late autumn day, but if you need a flashback to cheerier times give Cathy a visit at Words and Herbs for her week of flowers. It’s what I should be looking at rather than whining about weather and moping about the season. Perhaps I’ll visit now. Enjoy 🙂

Flying Through November

Nov15

I swear Halloween was yesterday yet here we are already two weeks into the next month. Usually autumn is the season of painfully slow decay and death, a ‘stick season’, but over the past few years I’ve been developing a new appreciation for all the optimistic plants which take the cooler temperatures and run with them. Cyclamen come to mind, Cyclamen hederifolium in particular, and when cyclamen come to mind Edgewood Gardens also comes to mind, and when you’re that far into it what better than to hop in the car for an early November visit the see the gardens in person and visit with Dr Lonsdale?

Outside the cyclamen were wrapping things up, but in the greenhouse the show was still going full throttle. What a rich range of colors in these potted Cyclamen hederifolium.

This Edgewood cyclamen visit was under the guise of meeting up with snowdrop crazies and spending an afternoon admiring the full-bloom show of thousands of autumn snowdrops, and that was exciting, but I forgot how nice the cyclamen can be. My mind was again buzzing with the idea of keeping even more cyclamen potted up and under cover, able to be appreciated in any kind of weather and easily rearranged and admired at eye level rather than on your knees. My own are doing well in a coldframe, but maybe a second or bigger coldframe is something to consider…

The flowers are a floral spectacle but the foliage patterns and shapes also hold their own. Narrow, marbled, purple-veined, pink-flushed… the variety is amazing.

I guess to be somewhat helpful I should mention that there are four fairly hardy cyclamen species which are somewhat easy to get a hold of and experiment with outdoors in the more Northerly zones. These are nearly all the fall-blooming Cyclamen hederifolium, but there is another fall-bloomer, C. cilicium, and there’s the early spring blooming C. coum, and the attractively evergreen, summer-blooming C. purpurascens. Of the four I believe C. purpurascens might be the hardiest with a zone 5 rating, but as with most plants, location and snow cover probably play a huge part in how well hardiness really plays out.

Only the best forms end up in pots in the greenhouse. Besides looking even better that way they also serve as mother-plants, hopefully setting seeds for the next generation of even better varieties.

Did I crack and add a new cyclamen? Of course, but strangely enough it was a non-hardy Cyclamen graecum which ended up in my hand. Why add any more carefree, outdoor varieties when you can add one which needs a frost-free spot all winter and protection from rain all summer and will quickly die if you mess up? Message me if you know the answer…

And did I mention there would also be snowdrops?

The greenhouse benches were packed with autumn-flowering snowdrops.

Okay, so maybe I was also excited about other things. There was excellent company for the afternoon and more snowdrops than one would think would flower in November. We spent quite some time looking and talking about snowdrops and plants in general. Not bad at all.

Even more snowdrops, this time in the afternoon glow of a lowering sun. Days like this always end much too quickly.

So again, in a weak attempt to be useful, most people are familiar with the early spring blooming types of snowdrops (Galanthus), but other species and forms exist. For this visit we were catching the down side of the Glanthus reginae-olgae season, but the peak of the G. bursanus season. From what I know they are both strictly fall-blooming species (ok, r-o does have a spring blooming subspecies…) but there are others which straddle the line. Galanthus elwesii is mostly spring-blooming, but there are a bunch which begin in the fall or early winter and quite a few of them were also showing on this visit…. plus some G. peshmenii and quite a few G. cilicius (which may not be hardy enough for most Northerners) and I guess that’s about it and I apologize for going on again.

The next generation of cyclamen. Just imagine the joy of potting up every. single. last. one. of these.

Did I crack and buy a new snowdrop? Strangely no. I’m just that responsible and frugal that I resisted completely. That and college visits have been happening, and apparently prices have gone up and between that and a home remodel I have decided I’m broke… or rather my wallet told me and I’ve only just now recently received the message.

Be fruitful and multiply! That’s what I whispered to this amazing combination of dark flowers and silvery foliage.

The reality of my own autumn snowdrop successes is another thing which poured cold water on my delusions of pregaming the winter snowdrop show. For as much as the hardiness and tenacity of fall blooming snowdrops has impressed me, the frequency of failure in these fall wonders has kept me from diving in too deep. A case in point is my amazing little clump of G. peshmenii (but probably really G reginae olgae) which over maybe six years had gone from a single bulb to at least nine flowers last year. This year it’s nothing. “going back” is the term I’ve heard for clumps which go from excellent to nearly dead in the span of a year, and I’m going to guess some bacteria or fungus got in there this summer and that’s why. Fortunately there are a few bits of foliage finally coming up, and I hope in another six years I might be back to 7 or eight blooms… unless these weak leaves are one last show just to say goodbye… in which case I hope they get a move on it because I’m not getting any younger.

A struggling Galanthus reginae olgae clump. Maybe there’s a rotted flower stalk visible which would indicate some kind of botrytis or stagonospora infection, but of course that doesn’t matter since I’m not ready to douse my plants with fungicides and will just hope for the best.

So my best clump has almost died out and to be honest every other snowdrop up already has been chewed to the ground by slugs. Silly me, I didn’t put slug pellets down, right? Well that’s because slugs are rarely a problem here so who would think to do that? At first I thought some ignorant bunny or bird was snipping off blooms, but after the fourth or fifth clump was wiped out I finally figured it out, and now I own my first box of slug pellets and I’m not afraid to use them.

Perhaps the giant deciduous leaves of Magnolia macrophylla aren’t a good pairing for fall snowdrops but G. elwesii ‘Barnes’ found a big enough gap to come up through.

So maybe the later fall snowdrops will have more success. The fall Galanthus elwesii are starting, and although they often suffer terribly from sudden blasts of arctic weather, they also seem to forgive and forget, unlike the G. reginae olgae which seem to hold a grudge and enjoy being spiteful. Even rotten, mushy leaves in January don’t necessarily mean death for the G. elwesii, they sometimes pop up the next fall as if they were just kidding about the being dead thing.

‘Hoggets Narrow’ is probably my favorite fall blooming Galanthus elwesii. I love the long form and the grace of the blooms, and even if he likes to die dramatically each year from some hard mid-winter freeze, he still comes up again in the fall. I’m pleased there are two blooms this year.

Sorry. This is probably all too much snowdrops for November so here’s the rest of the garden.

My first year with Ajania pacifica, a chrysanthemum relative from Eastern Asia. I’m looking forward to seeing it grow into a nice big clump of neat foliage and bright yellow November buttons.

Last blooms, changing foliage colors, and a billion end of year chores. We had our killing frost, and although it’s warmer again and will likely stay that way for a while I’ll probably need all that time to get even somewhere close to everything done.

I suddenly have evergreen structure for the winter. Tiny little nubbins have gained presence and with the grass still green it’s a nice view as everything else goes into hiding.

I did manage to finish the dirt moving. The dream was a November finish line and I was as shocked as anyone to see it really worked out. Things are too late to do much planting, but I’m dumping grass clippings over the bare soil and throwing down some grass seed to mix in and hopefully something comes up first thing next spring. If it does, it does, and I have too much cleanup to do to overthink it too much other than to remember how much grass I’ve weeded out of flower beds. Grass is my worst weed, so I can’t imagine having to try too hard to get it to grow on purpose.

Remember the tulips I dug? In a moment of revelation I realized planting tulips was more satisfying than seeding grass so why not just call it a new bed and stick the bulbs there?

Moving dirt is hard work and requires many rest breaks. During some of the rest breaks stupid ideas germinate, and before you know it you’re digging up a sad little boxwood hedge and framing out a new tulip bed and then you might as well frame up a new tropical bed or daylily farm while you’re at it. A useful fact is that November is pretty late to be carelessly ripping up boxwood and popping it in elsewhere but I’m sure you knew that just like I do, and I also know I shouldn’t still trim the boxwood since it will likely freezer-burn the fresh cuts when it gets cold, but how can I stand looking at a rollercoaster top of the hedge when it should be level? I guess it settled very unevenly after I replanted it last spring.

Here’s the question… the bare soil will become yet another bed, and I want to line it on one or two sides with boxwood. Too much? Or just a nice try at more winter interest?

So when is too much boxwood too much? Boxwood blights and boxwood caterpillars are going to reach this garden someday, but not today, and perhaps I should just have my fun while I can, but someday I can see regretting not being more proactive. To be clear, I’m really not adding anything, just moving hedge I already have but maybe I’m missing a chance to try something new.

Maybe crushing all these decisions into the last un-frozen weeks of 2023 is also not the best process, but I really need to clear out my spring calendar for snowdrops, so better to get this out of the way now. Oops, there’s that snowdrop thing again, sorry. I shall try to make it longer next time without mentioning them. Have a great week 😉

A Test

Oct29

I ran a little test here over the last few weeks, but before getting into that let’s just enjoy the 28 minutes of sun which coincided with the weekend and matched the glow of the final color on the dogwoods (Cornus florida).

hydrangea paniculata limelight fall color

The neighborhood dogwood trees are down to their final autumnal glow after first russeting up in September.

Actually (and as usual) these photos are from earlier in the week when nicer weather prevailed and we were able to enjoy some sunny and perhaps too-warm weather for the few minutes when I wasn’t stuck at work. It’s only now that I’m getting around to celebrating the glowing colors of this past week as I sit inside again, not due to work but due to the typical weekend rainy weather which is feeding the swap again with even more moisture. Whatever though, the plants carry on and I don’t remember the Hydrangea paniculatas ever showing so much pink before… and I’m contemplating maybe adding one more, something which is nice and late and intentionally turns pink each year. The ‘Vanilla Strawberry’ I gave to my mother in law could be a match, but it’s a little earlier than I’d like and because of that might go brown before the season wraps up.

Hydrangea by the street, also brighter than ever.

Speaking of the season wrapping up I just looked at the ten day, and it looks like frost might finally be on the way. We’ve had a mild October again, but it looks like November will come in with a light frost at least, and clear the way for tulip planting and final cleanups.

Aster laevis ‘Raydon’s Favorite?’ (Smooth Aster) is my best aster. It tolerates drought, blooms late, blooms long, and requires no work other than a chopping in half in June. It’s a star of the late autumn border.

Frost won’t be the worst thing. The garden starts to look uncomfortable once the leaves start falling and everything goes to sleep, but the marigolds are still going strong. A good frost moves everything along and puts the lingering things out of their misery while reminding the gardener that there’s a due date approaching for his project, and things need to wrap up before a solid freeze locks everything down.

I still haven’t found the perfect spot for this salvia, possibly a form of Salvia splendens van houttei, but it seems to enjoy a bit of shade to grow best around here. Cuttings have been taken again regardless and it always makes a nice show under the lights… even if it looks a bit cramped in there.

I guess this gardener is ok with an early November first frost. Tender things are mostly indoors and now just a few heavy pots remain to be considered. Having a few extra weeks to bring in pots two or three at a time is so much less stressful than running around the night before an early frost and making the hard decisions all at once.

The delphinum is a lingerer. From a decrepit, summer-weary husk a few perfect flowers are up and open. Had the gardener trimmed it down a few weeks ago, the husk might have been cheerier, but I’ll take this.

The downside to a lingering autumn is that the number of plants saved goes up with each frost-free week. Oh well. Have faith in me that I’m quite capable of killing things off with neglect during the winter 😉

The lingering autumn and on and off gloomy skies have the evening primrose (Oenothera biennis) open all day. It’s a lovely weed which fits in well with the verbena.

Besides the annual ‘to save or not to save’ questions there’s also the ever-too-long ongoing dirt moving projects. I’ve reached the point where backyard fill has reached the meadow, and I’m into the phase where fill is being graded down to the level of the meadow, and basically that means I’ve filled in as much as I wanted to and there’s an end in sight for this back part of the yard.

There’s almost enough level ground so that I can run a grass path from the house all the way back to the berm. That was an important thing back in the day, but as I look at it now I’m not sure why… maybe it was more work than it was worth…

If the back part of the yard is leveled and almost done, does that mean the hill of construction fill in the middle of the yard is gone? Haha, of course not! There’s still a nice bit sitting in the middle of the yard, just waiting for a poor soul to dig it all up and wheelbarrow it to other far reaches of the garden. The last few tons of dirt and rock are destined for the side of the yard, to level out along the fence and around the coldframe area, and hopefully provide a nice spot for the homeless camellia seedlings.

There’s only a little bit of the mountain left. We are almost at the two year mark for when the digging first began, and I am hoping for less strenuous days ahead.

So besides impending frost and ongoing earthmoving there’s still the small matter of a test. I really did have a point in that title and it refers to new lighting ambitions for the always expanding winter garden. We are going LED and moving on from the fluorescent shop lights which have served their time.

The product. Four foot LED shoplights from Harbor Freight. On sale for $43 but I see they’re up to $54 again, and that’s not in the budget for additional sets….

It seems like everyone has an opinion on using LED lights for raising plants, and I blame the basement growers of ‘medicinal’ crops for all this info and interest. There’s the science of specific wavelengths for the efficiency of photosynthesis but then there’s an avalanche of weakly proven theories on what’s best for what kind of growth and how ideal certain setups are and and and…. I tried to follow along but after numerous attempts came to the conclusion that LED lights specifically for plants were far outside my budget, plus many were a pinkish sort of light, and even with the current mania for Barbie and pink, I was not down with that. I finally stumbled across someone with some growing experience who stated that general LEDs, although they don’t emit light at the wavelengths specifically matching the preferred wavelengths for chlorophyll peak efficiency, emit light which is good enough for the range, and with that in mind just get something bright enough. So that’s what I did. The price and brightness were there but my confidence wasn’t, so I decided that a simple test might be a good idea before full commitment.

Corn, arugula, and calendula seedlings grown under LED (left) and fluorescent (right). If anything the LED seedlings look better, if not at least they’re on par with results from the old system.

The test was a few pots with corn, arugula, and calendula seedlings sown and grown completely under the two light sources. It was an experimental setup which would make a real scientist cringe, but conditions were mostly similar for both lights and they were just a few feet apart in my garage workshop but not close enough to overlap. Without making too much of the results it looks like the LED worked just fine in growing the seedlings. The corn was indifferent but the arugula and calendula actually seemed to grow faster and more strongly than the Fluorescent plants. I’d show the calendula but of course a slug found the pot and trimmed them back to the size of the other pot before said slug was dispatched. I guess I shall consider that when analyzing my experimental error.

Snowdrops? Yes! It’s that time of year again and Galanthus bursanus is leading the way. Please ignore the slug damage, I first blamed rabbits but when all the rest of the blooms disappeared with near surgical precision I think the bunnies are innocent for once and slugs are the true culprits.

That’s the first of what will surely become too many photos of snowdrops, but I’m sure you knew that. There should be more, but in addition to slugs hitchhiking their way into the winter garden they’ve been extremely active in the garden and have mowed down more than their share of the earliest of the autumn flowering snowdrops. Snowdrops in the fall is a new thing for me, I never thought is could be an option this far North, but with every winter less enthusiastic than the last it’s becoming a possibility. I just have to figure out how to grow them. They survive, but there’s still something (other than slug attacks) which doesn’t let them grow as well as the others already here. Don’t you worry though, rather than discouraged I’m even more enthusiastic about them and just keep trying them in new spots until they find something to their liking!

Hopefully we all find something to our liking. Have a great week!

Feeding the Soil

Oct15

So yeah, another day lost to endless rain… I actually cleaned the kitchen and cooked some food for the fam instead of escaping to the garden. Nothing healthy was cooked, I’m a maestro with the deep fryer, but for a gloomy and gray, chilly day it seemed appropriate. Now it’s 9pm and after several apathetic attempts at a blog post throughout the day, I suppose a firmer tone should be set and anything should be posted. Photos were taken yesterday for just this purpose, so maybe something good can come of a day with no garden time.

Allium thunbergii ‘Ozawa’ has finally opened. Although I’m the only one to notice so far, I’ve been checking him each day waiting for just this moment and that’s exciting.

The biggest news is that after years of no Allium thunbergii, I’m suddenly basking in the joy of four separate plantings. One of them really doesn’t count. It’s the miserable patch of seedlings which I’ve been nursing along for at least seven years, and has only bloomed once in all that time. I don’t want to talk about it. I do want to gush on about the two I picked up at a NARGS plant sale, and then the one which showed up a few weeks later when a friend was nice enough to send me a division as well. From a thunbergii desert to a garden flooded with October blooming alliums was more than I could hope for, and now in their second year here I’m quite pleased. My friend sent the cultivar ‘Ozawa’ and the other two are maybe a straight species form, and the white ‘Album’, and all three are putting on a great show.

The small white Allium thunbergii album with another A. thunbergii which was just labeled ‘pink’. These two are showing off just inches away from another patch which rarely flowers… It’s hard admitting that one of your babies is a little ‘lacking’.

Now before I start mulling over the idea that an early fall-blooming snowdrop would complement these alliums wonderfully, lets check off the last of the colchicums. In this garden the long-blooming, double white C. autumnale ‘Alboplenum’ finishes off the season, and this late favorite now comes up in a couple spots around the yard. It should be a couple more, but the colchicum transplanting steam has cooled off, and it looks like these are going to have to wait until next summer to get a little more space and maybe a little more sun elsewhere.

Colchicum autumnale alboplenum looking slightly sparse and tired, but still giving a decent show under a dwarf white pine. I always like how the falling needles blanket the ground for the colchicum, but the dry shade doesn’t always please the colchicum.

The steam on a few projects has cooled down, and maybe that’s where the rain is coming from, but the focus is now turned to embracing the new wheelbarrow and moving dirt again. Pickaxe a few square feet, shovel them out, wheel them back, repeat… and then go sit down for a couple minutes. No sense in wearing yourself out, and absolutely no reason that a gardener should be working so hard as to sweat in mid October.

One of the rest seats faces the end of the front border. Things are beginning to wind down, but as long as frost holds off there’s still plenty of color.

As I’ve probably mentioned way too many times, this garden isn’t built on the deep, fertile soils of a lush river valley, it’s just a few inches of topsoil skimming the top of construction fill, which sits just above rocks and bedrock… and then if you keep going coal mines will be the only other excitement down there. Roots do not go deep, and I’m always trying to improve on that, even if it’s in ways which often do more than they should to avoid anything which seems like real work, or even worse, sound like they could be costly.

At least the newly seeded lawn has been enjoying all the rain. This area was completely dug up and bulldozed and I’m counting on mulches like lawn clippings to bring life back and re-create some topsoil.

Sifting out rocks, double digging beds, working in amendments and soil conditioners, and buying in ‘topsoil’ are all great ideas, and I love seeing other gardeners do it and then watch as their spades slice through a delicious chocolate cake soil to plant things, but there’s about a zero chance that will ever happen here. Here my main method of attack is (1)dump organic matter on top and (2)wait for the worms and other creatures to work it into the soil, and (3)grow lots of things. Growing things have roots, and the roots work through the soil, and when they die they leave a path and organic matter… so let me alter that and say (3)grow lots of things and then kill them but leave the roots there. You can probably guess I’m not one to worry about removing stumps, and pulling things up and getting all the roots? Also not a priority.

Of course some roots have to come out, but wherever I can I try to smother weeds with a layer of mulch first. Lately lawn clippings have been my mulch of choice, and from snowdrops to daylilies to boxwoods, they’re all getting a nice inch or two.

The lawn alone doesn’t give enough clippings, so this is when the meadow gets a scalping as well. All the rain has it pretty lush so hopefully it’s more clippings than weed seeds, but even a few weeds are worth it.

A cleaned out bed is easier to mulch, so chopping back has started and where better to throw the spent stalks and fading foliage than on the lawn? It all gets mowed up and thrown back onto a bed elsewhere and all that organic matter stays around the plants which produced it. Things doesn’t look 100% fancy, but is so much easier than hauling it to the compost. It’s only the hellebores which don’t get their own shredded foliage returned to the same bed, and phlox stems also go elsewhere. These are the only plants which give me any kind of build-up of disease concerns. Everything stays in the garden, it just moves to a different part with other plant species.

Isodon effusus, formerly rabdosia, formerly plectranthus, is flopping all over the snowdrop bed and in full bloom. It’s impossible to photograph, and the name is impossible to remember, but it does bring in some excellent color, even better when the red maples begin dropping their leaves alongside the blue.

Golly does the rain have me chatty. I’m moving dirt, building soil, and the only other thing I still want to mention is power washing. The spotted lanternfly is into its third year here and is about as bad as last. They’re mostly annoying with their clumsy hopping and bumbling flight, but their honeydew pee is beyond annoying and enters irritating. The sweet pee is gross, but the black mold it grows is disgusting. The black mold is the reason you haven’t had to endure endless succulent wall photos, since most of my succulents are blackened by the drizzle they get under the aspens. Pretty much anything around the bases of trees is sticky and black, and of course the white birches don’t show well either when they’re dripping with pee and mold.

Hopefully a November once-over with the power washer will clean this gunk off.

According to most Lanternfly information I should be stomping and spraying and controlling the beasts as best I can, but I’m not. When the mold started getting bad I briefly considered pulling out the shop vac and making a brush attachment to sweep the trees clean, but you can guess where that ended up. Cracking open a beverage, pulling up a lawn chair, and vacuuming up a wasp nest is fun, but running the vacuum up and down trees for the lanternflies seem like work, so no thanks. I’ll take this first hit in stride and hope it balances itself out similar to the Asian ladybugs, Japanese beetles, stinkbugs… hmmmm there’s quite a menu of invasive pests which have come this way over the years…

Spotted lanternflies beginning to lay eggs at the base of the tree, alongside the blackened foliage of a peony.

Let’s leave off on a good note… as the patter of rain on the roof has picked up yet again…

Each fall I keep wanting to transplant a few of these hardy garden chrysanthemum seedlings to more spots around the garden and each spring my attention is elsewhere. Today this double orange is my favorite. I should collect seeds when they’re done and play that game again 😉

So that’s a post, for better or worse. I hope if anything it entertained, and I also hope that your Sunday is sunny and enjoyable!

Summer Blinks

Sep22

For a minute it was summer and then not. Our warm weather has faded and we’re getting a taste of autumn, with chilly nights and dewy mornings, and temperatures which make a gardener think about what’s to come.

The bulldozer path to the back of the house is fading away as new lawn sprouts and the new daylily border fills in. A purple mound of Lespedeza ‘Gibraltar’ fits in nicely with the pink and purple theme.

What’s to come? Snowdrop season of course, but not until a thousand things get done and a million plants move indoors, and a billion weeds get pulled.

I went to a snowdrop gala in March and of course ended up with a daylily, in this case ‘September Sol’, off the sales bench of Matthew Bricker. It does indeed come into bloom during September and brings a nice shine to the purple verbena masses.

So those are the good intentions, and hopefully they still amount to something because although I need more hardscape in the garden, I don’t want my paths to be paved with the good intentions which never became. Walking down that path would not make for a nice garden tour and I’d rather just stick to gravel if that’s the case.

The new grass path behind the potager is officially over-run with verbena bonariensis. I think this is far nicer than lawn would ever be so obviously I’ll wait until November at least before running the mower through.

Perhaps it’s obvious, but thankfully this will be a brief post rather than the usual babbling on about all kinds of unrelated topics. These photos were taken last week, and I hate to not remember these last joys of summer just because I was too distracted by other nonsense to get a post up. So come February hopefully a thrown-together post from a lush September will at least be better than nothing.

The potager has officially gone to seed. We’re down to a few rotting vegetables and the flowers have completely taken over.

For obvious reasons my garden never reaches the well-tended, beautifully curated stage which many of my friends’ gardens become at this time of year. There are no clumps of shapely mums and vignettes of asters and ornamental grasses, instead it’s a weedy wave of viny tangles and seedy remains… and it really suits my tastes 🙂

The ferny tendrils of cypress vine (Ipomoea quamoclit) go from soft and innocent to smothering within days if the heat and humidity are there for it.

Or perhaps it’s possible I’ve convinced myself over the years that this is how I like my garden to look by September. There’s just no time for immaculate care when thoughts are turning to the bulbs which need planting and the cuttings which need taking, things end up getting neglected, and for the sake of the gardener’s sanity it’s better to just think all is as it should be.

This year the ‘Terrace’ was almost tame in how many pots ended up there. A summer of dirt-moving has a way of dampening the urge to pot up hundreds of cuttings…

So with everything going according to plan maybe a few considerations towards the future are in order. Lots of things should come in for the winter… but there’s only so much room…

Fuschia ‘Gartenmeister Bonstedt’ does very well in the cool winter garden but needs to be watched for spider mites. Blue Streptocarpella will also come in, and is carefree if kept on the dry side.

Going around the garden and making a plan for it all is a terrible idea. Better to start small and ignore the scope of it all until a sudden cold night forces your hand. Nothing like going around with a flashlight on a 33F night and making on the spot decisions about what you can and can’t live without. The desire to lug in a 100 pound pot filled with sharp agave foliage drops quickly when your fingertips are numb and your pajamas are soaked.

Maybe the passion flower ‘Kew Gardens’ deserves one more year. The flowers seem to only open in the evenings and I often miss them, but they are pretty cool, and I always have a weak spot for vines.

Coleus cuttings in water will be first, and then maybe I’ll drag a few caladium pots in closer to the house so they can dry off a bit. Maybe. Some lantana cuttings is another option. Eventually…

For all the effort some things get, it’s often a stray seed or corm in some leftover potting soil which does best. A handful of Bessera elegans corms were carefully potted up and then promptly rotted. Here a stray corm in some re-used potting soil is thriving.

Bah, it’s still the middle of September, there’s plenty of time. Let me just enjoy the summer flowers while I can.

This ‘Sun Parasol’ “original dark red” mandevilla or whatever they’re called right now is surprisingly easy to overwinter. Cool spot, some light, easy on the watering, and it will even try to flower all winter… unlike others (do you hear me ‘Alice DuPont’?) who promptly drop all their leaves and go dormant…

Enjoying the lingering summer flowers is even better when you can enjoy a few colchicum blooms at the same time. This month I started an incentive program where the gardener gets to transplant a few colchicum on each day he reaches his to-do list targets. To-do list targets are obviously less fun than transplanting colchicums, and they include debris hauling, concrete setting, and the endlessly boring task of lawnmowing. I think it goes without saying that my teenage children are essentially worthless for everything on the to-do list…

The always fun, tesselated flowers of Colchicum x aggripinum. It’s a neat and long blooming smaller type and I wish I had as many as I used to, but one year they decided they didn’t love it here anymore so far I’ve been unsuccessful in winning them back over.

Here’s just one un-glamorous view of the colchicum progress. The no-rocks rockgarden along the house is becoming a rocky colchicum bed, and before each new clump gets moved and planted the truck ruts need digging and loosening, and the rocks which were dumped in the ruts so the trucks could make more ruts, needed prying out and hauling off. Just to be clear, this is the reward part and not part of the to-do list, so having this fun has been a slightly drawn out process.

After division and some compost I’m expecting great things from ‘Nancy Lindsay’ and her friends. I hope to get the whole bed mulched this autumn, and maybe in the spring add a few sedum and thyme starts to fill in the bed while the colchicum go dormant.

The colchicum project seemed much more innocent when the first bulbs were getting their new spots, and it still seemed fun after the second and third clumps, but today while replanting ‘Spartacus’ a little tinge of concern came over the gardener. There appears to be a colchicum collection developing. For years I’ve been adding one or two, just to see how they compare, and as you know one or two little bulbs really don’t amount to much, but one day they do… assuming (and this takes me out on a limb) they don’t die, and apparently enough haven’t. Maybe a more honest confession would be excitement rather than concern, but let me just say next autumn should be colchi-rific and that’s a good thing, not a medical condition.

Hope your September days are full of good things and you enjoy the weekend!

sorta like suburbia

more than you ever wanted to know about my garden

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