Less Work

Aug6

Every August there comes a point when I realize the garden is a lot of work, and as I stand there with itchy bug bites, sweat running into my eyes, and dirt all over (with a little blood here and there too) I realize it’s not always fun either. To that end I told the boy that on second thought he’s got to take out a bigger loan for college, and I was going to go ahead and use that budget line to buy some mulch after all. Mulch is a labor-saver, it looks neat, saves on watering, and keeps the weeds down and would be an excellent way out… until it was dumped in the driveway and someone had to spread it. More work, and the boy was oddly standoffish when I suggested he help.

Agapanthus ‘Blue Yonder’ has survived transplanting and division, and I was even able to split a bit off for a friend… although deep down I still wanted to keep it all to myself since it’s such a cool plant!

So for the last week there’s been more sweat and blood given for the garden, and again I’m wondering why I’m allowed to make these decisions without any real adult supervision. It’s obviously my own fault, but in the meantime there’s been more rain (and a relentless blanket of heat and humidity) and even with additional purges for the mulch to go down the garden does look pretty good and at least now the suffering isn’t all a wasted effort.

Holy color! My latest crape myrtle addition (Lagerstroemia ‘Tuscarora’) has burst into bloom and I think it’s the greatest thing. Southerners will yawn but I’m quite pleased. Fingers crossed it can overwinter decently enough to bloom again.

Besides making my life easier by having a well-mulched garden, I’ve also continued on my quest to add an increasing number of border-line hardy plants which will need more coddling than usual in order to do well, and obviously this goes against any less-work initiatives. “Zone Pushing” is what some people call it, but I’m going to go all silly on you and claim it’s just me getting a jump on global warming. Argue any point you’d like but when each ski season is worse than the last I would suggest the zones are creeping North and sooner or later will match my horticultural hopes. Agapanthus have been doing well for a number of years (hardy deciduous forms, not the evergreen types), hardier forms of Crinum lilies have had no problem overwintering for three years, and now I’m trying Crape myrtle again. The ones I planted years ago at my parents’ house on Long Island used to freeze back regularly but are now taking on tree proportions, so I think I can at least get away with them being root-hardy if not top-hardy. The two dwarf ‘Barista’ series shrubs I planted last summer are back this year and full of buds, so there’s hope.

Our hot and dry stretch has singed most of the lawns, but for a sunflower in a crack at the end of the driveway? No problem. I’m stupid for not just growing a yard full of sunflowers.

Something which seems like it should be a lot of trouble and work, but really is not… and is also absolutely hardy as well… are the Cyclamen purpurascens which are coming into bloom now. Unlike the other species of winter-growing hardy cyclamen, these tend to be evergreen and will bloom in August over a nice cover of patterned foliage. I’m tempted to go on and on about them but I’ll spare you the rambling and just say give them a try, and if they’re not happy try them somewhere else since these took a while to find their happy place. The best patches are under the carpenter ant infested cherry tree where it appears the ants have tossed the seeds they collect after they’ve eaten off the sweet coating at the nest, and the seeds happily germinate and grow in what would seem like a terrible spot.

Cyclamen purpurascens coming into bloom in the shade of a weeping cherry. They should continue flowering for several weeks, regardless of drought or heat or humidity.

So that wasn’t bad. I was barely distracted by the first cyclamen coming into bloom, and I also didn’t even mention that I’ve been digging and examining and dividing clumps of snowdrops as I mulch my way through the garden… but I will mention the waste space instead. The weeds were neatly mown for June’s graduation party and then mown again… and again, alongside the rest of the lawn since I guess that’s what one does when you’re trying to keep things neat, but of course that’s boring. And work, and it being work isn’t a deal breaker, but when it’s also boring and pointless as well, then I must object. Better to pickaxe a shallow hole in the horribly poor soil and throw in a few pumpkin seeds. Or ‘maybe-pumpkin’ seeds since they’re seeds which have been sitting in cups on a garage shelf for years and I can’t remember which amazing pumpkin or squash or gourds contributed the seeds several autumns past.

The waste space is now a pumpkin patch. If the rains and heat keep up there might still be enough time for some kind of late season squash to ripen, and if not… squash are always fun to watch grow.

Starting a pumpkin patch wasn’t much work at all but then when the anonymous seed actually started to grow, I felt guilty that the soil was so bad. When it dried out, any attempts to water would just run off, so maybe a mulch of free municipal compost could help. Then another two runs for compost happened because there’s no sense in being skimpy with free compost… and might as well scratch in a little 10-10-10 since this is all just construction fill and even maybe-pumpkins need some help to not look anemic… and then when you’re not mowing the weeds they grow tall and might shade the maybe-pumpkins, so better pull a few… and here we are. I don’t suggest you reduce your workload by starting a pumpkin patch.

And with a pumpkin patch to distract, and maybe even a few more spur of the moment crape myrtles ordered and in need of planting, you can see how well the mulch is reducing my workload this summer. Tomorrow marks one week of it sitting in the driveway and all I did yesterday was buy another bromeliad, and all I did today was repot a begonia. I guess I’ll have to get back at it tomorrow. Or not. There are just a few more snowdrops to attend to before I can mulch, and snowdrops can’t be rushed. It will all be worth it though, no more weeding and I’ll finally be on easy street… right?

Oh those lazy days of summer. I hope you’re enjoying them as well!

Love and Hate

Jul25

We went on a little trip a few days ago and were gone for barely two days and the garden fell apart. It was mostly the fault of the weather as temperatures sat in the mid 90’s each day (35C) but it didn’t reflect well on my plantings and I was generally disgusted to see them all go to pieces in such a short time. This post would have had a much more one-sided title had I put it together that next day, but fortunately things move slowly here and I’ve had a few days to reflect and recover before putting things into words (and pictures). Plus it rained. A summer rain storm can change everything, and between that and some directed culling and chopping and fertilizing, there’s a slight air of positive vibes drifting through the yard again.

Pots of succulents can withstand quite some abuse, so are perfect for the roadtripping gardener. Tools scattered about can also make things look busier than they really are… until someone asks when the last time they were used was…

As usual much of the problem is the gardener’s fault. Normally drip lines on a timer nurse nearly all the potted plantings throughout the summer, but “I think I’ll just rip them all out since I should probably re-think the layout” happened when the deck was worked on, and re-thinking doesn’t really get water to plants as well as a drip line does. So once the gardener chose to continue gardening for the year, the first thing on the list was watering containers. It should have been repair the drip lines, but it wasn’t, and it also wasn’t the second thing. The second thing was to either cleanup, repot, or toss any of the succulents which weren’t already out on the summering wall. I’d been holding quite a few back because they weren’t quite display-ready, but after seeing how they were the only things not complaining about summer I decided to reward them with a little attention. It worked, and things look better, and best of all anything which looked sad or filled with complaints was tossed. My theory on the last succulent pots was the same as what normal people apply to their wardrobe. Anything you don’t use or love or haven’t worn yet this season goes on to the ‘goodwill pile’ and gets recycled as compost 🙂

The sloppy little stone wall is again topped with various potted succulents and somehow I’m short on pots again. That could be an easy fix but the gardener is not allowed to visit the terracotta isle any more.

Purging the pots was a relief, and then trimming the box hedge and mowing the lawn were also excellent jobs for improving the gardener’s outlook. The lawn doesn’t really need mowing, but the weeds in it do, and trimmed up they look so much better.

Then I looked at the flower beds and purged them as well. Mid summer should be a lush highlight for the garden, but the heat has taken a toll and in the mood I was in there was no room for tired plants. So now I have empty spots and need mulch, but who doesn’t like spreading mulch in the middle of summer? Fortunately that same day we also opened the envelope containing the bill for the boy’s first year of college, and seeing that ‘realigned’ how much of the budget was going into mulch purchases!

Tulips (and plenty of weeds) finally came out of this bed early in the month and all the leftover cuttings and roots and tubers from the garage went in. There is a new crape myrtle, and it’s so full of buds I don’t even care if it’s hardy or not!

Summary so far: Most of the garden has been composted, but at least it looks neat. A good rain has helped.

A few of the ‘toothy’ daylily seedlings which have been added to the garden. They’re interesting and I think I like them, but I’m more of a craftsman style, and less Louis XVI.

The gardener should stop complaining. Flowers abound, the pool is perfect, the agapanthus are starting, and nearly every evening is filled with fireflies.

A few seeds were collected off the hardy agapanthus a few weeks before they were bulldozed into oblivion and now two years later we again have blooms. I’m quite happy with them.

Maybe now we will finally get to the stupid drip irrigation. It’s not hard at all to set up, but the gardener hates crouching under the deck to run the lines, and he knows he has to do a nice job this time since everything else looks halfway decent and a bunch of lines thrown around would not show well.

Have a great week and I hope your summer garden is doing well. If not I suggest a purge, a little mulch, and maybe a new succulent and things may improve immeasurably 🙂

The Daylily Farm

Jul7

Summer is going swimmingly, and although it’s been hot we’ve been fairly lucky with rain so the plants are holding up well and the gardener is glad he doesn’t have to drag a hose around any more than he has to. Not that he would, since our gardener tends more towards lazy than to ‘an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure’, but he does feel guilty every now and then when the same plant cries out for help each time he passes and he has to mumble a “sorry, I know this wasn’t part of the deal when I brought you home”…

The daylily farm

One plant which does seem to take all the neglect in stride is the daylily (Hemerocallis). Like dahlias and cannas, they’re not everyone’s cup of tea, but since the gardener is a coffee drinker anyway, it was just a matter of time until problems developed. A visit to a real daylily farm two years ago triggered the problem and of course with no friends willing to step in and squash it, things escalated. Actually friends suggested more visits, friends dropped daylilies off, friends invited the gardener over to ‘dig a few’…

Some goodies in the beds of the daylily farm

A few friends shook their heads and recommended counseling, or more finishing up of home improvement projects, but the gardener enjoyed visiting these daylily farms and with new plants rolling in left and right it seemed only logical to start his own. Sensible people pointed out there’s no room for a farm. The gardener laughed.

A friend gave me ‘Hawkwoman’ and she’s a star. A heavy bloomer with flowers nearly a foot across!

So now I have a daylily farm. A friend implied madness when confronted with several beds of daylilies filled with dozens of varieties in a garden which recently held only three, and I had to somewhat agree although he’s not one to talk with his house full of thrift store finds. Mine is clearly a business venture, so it’s ok. Small businesses are ok and so are entrepreneurs, and although the flow of daylilies is still only a one way stream into the garden I’m sure it will be turning a profit in no time. Think of how many farmers you know buzzing around in expensive sports cars and sipping lattes all summer. That could easily be me.

‘Nona’s Garnet Spider’ in one of the production (not sales) beds.

But until I decide to sell something the ‘sales beds’ are still just an excuse to line out daylilies in big blocks just because it’s cool as well as the other big plus. Having a daylily farm in your very own yard also keeps the gardener in the garden, since apparently it’s frowned upon for him to be off visiting other daylily farms every weekend in July.

‘Cosmic Struggle’ is another reliable, heavy bloomer who reblooms later in the season.

Maybe I will have a sale day this summer. Even after just two years they’re multiplying and maybe I don’t love every one as much as the next or I don’t need a row of ten plants of the same variety. It would be nice to have visitors at least since they do look nice this year and I think other plant nuts would enjoy it. In the meantime here are some more pictures of the madness. Not to single anyone out, but a blogger in Germany who might be named Cathy may have said they would welcome photos of daylilies a bit more than snowdrops and I didn’t know how to take that. How can you compare the diversity of shapes and colors and inherent grace of the snowdrop to that of the daylily? I don’t get it but here are a few more daylily photos with a little less babbling.

From a local breeder, ‘Brookside Mystery Date’ is a good growing, shorter plant with deliciously colored and textured blooms. I begged a friend to stop by the grower on their last open weekend to grab it for me since I was tortured by regret over not buying it earlier in the year.

Also from a local breeder, one of the unnamed Brookside Beauties which the farm offers. They’re seedlings they chose to leave unnamed, but couldn’t bear to toss out onto the compost pile.

For local people, the Brookside hybrids are the work of June and Dick Lambertson of Lambertson’s Daylilies. They were the farm which (unknown to them) started this all, and as they move into full retirement, Joann and Brad Lamberton (a coincidentally similar name but not related to the Lambertsons) of Garrett Hill Daylilies are picking up the legacy. And just to support my main supplier and dealer, I’m glad Garrett Hill has taken this on. They are building a beautiful spot and although I’m sure they question jumping in with both feet like this (on top of their day jobs!), a visit to their farm outside Honesdale Pa is a treat worth the trip.

Unnamed daylily seedlings purchased mailorder from Petal Pusher Daylilies in Fort Wayne Indiana. Some really cool forms came in my mixed box!

Green throated flowers are always interesting. Also an unnamed Petal Pusher seedling.

And “blue”? I’m not sure how I feel about this type since the color varies so much depending on the weather, but on this morning I was a fan!

One last unnamed seedling, possibly my favorite from Petal Pushers.

I could go on but I shall not. Just two final daylily confessions, the first being the Facebook page which was created to pollute the internet with even more daylily photos straight out of the farm here, and the second being the fact I’ve grown a few of my own seedlings here just to see if I could. You’re more than welcome to ‘like’ the Facebook page but the seedlings thing is a shady endeavor. With just a small patch of seedlings in bloom I realize I lack the vision and passion to produce anything which amazes anyone but myself, and of course I’m pleased with them, but they’re nothing special. Good news for the farm I guess, since it lacks the room for rows of seedlings, but on the down side it doesn’t stop me. I have dozens of new seedlings which need planting out this summer and I’m already eyeing pods forming on this year’s stalks 😉

One of the Sorta Suburbia seedlings

Gosh did I go on this morning, and still the house is quiet and breakfast has not been served so here’s the rest of the garden:

The potager is looking inviting and even a little under control. Vegetable plantings are sparse this summer, but you know something is always brewing 😉

The entry arch has clematis ‘Sweet Summer Love’ in full bloom. I was lukewarm the first year, but now that it’s hit its stride I’m a fan

I’ve finally managed to get a few nigella (aka love in a mist) seedling going, I don’t know why it took so long but I’m liking the airy look and the interesting seed pods which follow the bloom. It should be an easy reseeder now.

Blue hydrangeas are in bloom everywhere this year, since the non-winter failed to kill them back and a lack of late frosts spared the flower buds, This is hydrangea ‘Tuff Stuff’ which claims hardiness but has never bloomed like this before. I wouldn’t mind if this happened again some time.

The meadow garden is too shady now that the Aspen suckers have grown, but the rudbeckia is having a good year regardless. This area will be mown in August and kept cut until the fall.

I’ve been dabbling in red hot pokers and finally have a few which bloom reliably and for more than a week or two. Kniphofia ‘High Roller’ is just starting with several later buds still to come for an extended show.

The oxeye daisy season is getting a little messy and floppy, so out they come. The mower will take care of this mess, and hopefully the lawn can overwhelm the seedlings which this mess shall produce.

Still no sounds in this house, so I’ll end with just one more photo. The gardener added a few concrete blocks to the deck supply delivery and now it looks like there will be no new raised beds, rather a set of steps leading up the berm. That of course will involve more blocks, more leveling, more digging, and far more work than the gardener will consider on a day of rest but it’s going to sit in the back of his mind as a new source of guilt over an unfinished project which wasn’t even a project the week before. I’m sure it will be an excellent way to reach the top of the hill for weed control purposes.

That hill isn’t even safe. You almost broke your ankle last time you were strimming it.

So that’s pretty much the update from here. I shall now make some noise so someone feeds me and then spend the rest of the day either immersed in cooling water, hidden in the shade, or comfortable in the embrace of an air conditioning vent. Summer is pretty good and I wish it didn’t race by.

Enjoy your week!

Bring it on

Jun25

So if you see this post and think it’s been a while you’re right. Two months of silence is an unprecedented void on this blog, and I’m a little annoyed with myself that this winter the blog review will go straight from early spring bulbs right into summer… but that’s something to worry about in January. Today we’re just past the summer solstice and it’s midday with the thermometer at 95F (35C) and apparently that’s just what it took to get me inside and in front of the computer again.

One of the opium poppies (Papaver somniferum), probably a ‘Laurens Grape’ seedling, is looking exceptional in spite of the heat. The opium poppies are safe, but the Shirley poppies (Papaver rhoeas) became rabbit food once the bunnies developed a taste. They were looking so promising…

So where was I? Here of course. Partially busy, partially lazy, going to work, and then off to Iowa for a week at the end of May (also for work). Things were transplanted, things were weeded, regular rains helped everything immeasurably, and then a load of mulch helped me immeasurably in keeping the weeds from returning… once it was spread of course. I think the garden looks nice, and if you can remember one of the reasons I wanted it to look visitor-nice was for a high school graduation party that would take place here. It did take place. Last weekend when the weather was cooler and excellent we had food and fun and about 70 people over to celebrate. Last minute projects went until the last minute of course, but overall the scars and construction of the last few years have been erased and the garden is finally back.

All the rain was a blessing for the lawn, with newly seeded areas sprouting well, and zero-topsoil areas growing as if their roots actually had something healthy to live on. This is the side of the house where two years of concrete trucks and work vehicles had been accessing the addition. I now call it the daylily walk.

To be honest the garden has been here throughout, but there was a lot more ‘interesting’ than anyone but myself would appreciate. Buggy borders filled with weeds and waste spaces overflowing with seediness are the first things I’d check each morning, but others would likely hold a different opinion. The fact that there were little to no complaints about the mess and in particular the lack of steps down from the deck for several years is quite amazing now that I think on it. I should really do some before and after posts.

Currently the beds on the side of the house are overfilled with the common oxeye daisy. It’s a weed but it’s a weed which I’d take over empty mulch beds any day, and until better things get planted… or the heat wipes them out… I’ll take it.

A before and after would be great for one of the big surprises this summer. Little seeds sprout and grow and suddenly one afternoon you’re amazed by a huge flower on your baby Southern Magnolia (M. grandiflora). Yes, trees have been growing from seeds for eons, but when it’s by your own hand that’s something else. I would have to check, but I suspect the tree is somewhere around ten years old.

The first of five flowers which this Magnolia grandiflora has set. This and one other seedling have flower buds, the third still has some growing to do.

Perhaps the mild winter helped the Magnolias along, since they’re borderline hardy in this zone, but I’ll take it regardless. Another thing I’ll take is the nearly 100% overwintering of all the purple Verbena bonariensis which has come up just in time for the party. There are seedlings (still too small to flower) as well, but for the party a few big patches of purple really make things look much better than they are!

The path sloping down to the backyard and potager.

In between small talk and second helpings a few people noticed the garden. “Wow, that’s a lot of plants”, “it looks nice”, and “that must be a lot of work” were some of the comments and they were all quite nice to hear but I kept shooting myself in the foot by pointing out how many of the plants were actual weeds. For the oxeye daisies I kept telling people to look alongside the highway later and notice the same exact flowers, and for the verbena I pointed out that they’re all self-sown seedlings, and for the milkweeds I just highlighted the ‘weed’ part of the name. I do like the milkweeds though. They are a weed, but an interesting one and not as unattractive as many of my other “interesting” plants.

Alongside the driveway the showy milkweed (Asclepias speciosa) is flowering for the first time. It struggled to get started but apparently all the growth was underground since it’s sprouting everywhere this year!

Right now it’s the showy and the common milkweed which are putting on the best show. They’re somewhat similar but the common is much taller, especially this year with all the rain. Once they finish blooming I’ll wack em back since a six foot tall clump of m’weed by the front door is not the curb appeal our mailperson needs to see every day.

Common milkweed (Asclepias syrica) pops up throughout the garden because its roots go everywhere. In okay spots it will be cut down to about three feet after bloom, in not-okay spots I pull them out, and usually they break off neatly at the root and I can ignore what must be a massive root system.

So as usual I started this post with high hopes, but now it’s six days later and still not done. Let me try and get moving. A short summary (which is what I should have started this all with) is party was good, garden was decent, massive projects were finished enough, and summer is off to an excellent (although slightly exhausting) start.

No one complimented the Japanese iris but I thought they were nice. Please note the brick piles which still remain. I can’t do everything!

So in the week since the party I’m less focused on plumbing and deck reconstruction and more focused on finishing up on the garden to-do list. I’ll hopefully get another post up one of these days because the daylilies have started, the tulips have been dug, the annuals planted, and things look even better, especially since the heat broke yesterday and we had a nice downpour to water things.

The weedy end of the potager. More milkweed and still a few beds of bulbs to dig, but a mown lawn goes a long way in making any corner of the yard tolerable.

The cooler weather has been a nice break from the smothering heat and humidity, and yesterday I was able to work outside without the waterfall of sweat and overall homeless in Florida look which has been the rule for the last two weeks.

Part of last year’s ‘waste area’ became a firepit. It looks so much more purposeful than a patch of weeds but with the hot nights there have been no demands to give it a try.

When I said the garden looked good enough I wasn’t kidding. We were focused on other things, and other things always end up taking longer than expected and you don’t always get around to yanking out the dried up tulip stems. Weeds can wait when it’s a couple hours before the party and you’re setting pavers at the base of the new deck stairs while someone else is asking if she could powerwash the stairs so that she could set up tables and chairs since she thought that would be an important thing to do as well. She was right. It all came together and no one openly questioned the plethora of exceptionally healthy no-doubts-they’re-real-weeds and the embarrassingly undug tulip beds.

Someone with more sense might have focused on this bed in the very center of the yard, but…

Let me reassure you that in the days after the party the tulips have been (mostly) all dug and some of the biggest weeds are gone. There’s hope, and in another week or so I won’t need the distractions of food, beer and lawn games to keep people from looking too closely since hopefully there will be far fewer ‘ouch’ parts of the garden!

This driveway loudly announces ‘projects not done’, and no one said a word about it. I guess we have some decent friends, or at least friends who know better than to get me started on some long sand moving explanation.

So summer 2024 is off to an excellent yet tiring start. There shall be droughts and bugs and deer attacks but with any amount of luck there will also be garden harvests, bird-filled mornings, flowers, fragrance, and fun… and daylilies. I’m still kind of into the daylily thing, and with them opening up new blooms every day I have to make a decision on the daylily farm plans. It started as a joke, people were enthusiastic, and now I fear they were just joking along with me! We will see.

Thanks for reading and it’s good to be back!

A Weekend in Spring

Apr15

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Corydalis Solida

Apr2

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Have a great week 🙂

Spring on Pause

Mar24

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A Little Weird

Mar13

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And Then it Was Over

Mar9

So it’s raining again and it’s been raining and there’s more rain in the forecast. It’s warm, well maybe not brutally warm but at least unusually warm for March, and things are sprouting all over. Snowdrops are in bloom and won’t last long with all this going on, and the Galanthus Gala is over for another year. Just so you’re prepared, this promises to be a lukewarm post, kind of like going back to work after New Year’s and Christmas have passed and you’re completely in holiday mode yet it’s over and you’re back to waking to the alarm clock rather than to excitement for the day. I’ll try to rekindle the excitement just for this post, and perhaps tomorrow will be a drier, cheerier, snowdrop-filled day!

‘Augustus’ in the bright, deliciously warm sunshine of Paula Squitiere’s garden. Almost too sunny for photos, but too much sun is absolutely not a complaint!

Great highs are often followed by a lull and I believe it’s hitting me. I had an excellent time, and to make it even more excellent we rolled together Snowdropping ’24 wand Gala ’24 all into a single two day event of snowdrop-overload. Sadly I don’t have any decent pictures of the morning and the hours spent touring my friend Paula’s garden, or the visit to the still dormant (yet showing great promise) Bondville Mill Park, but I did click a few photos at the afternoon destination. I hope you don’t mind me re-living the day 😉

The Cyclamen coum were at their absolute peak when we visited the greenhouses of John Lonsdale’s Edgewood Gardens.

I’ve been to Edgewood Gardens a few times before but there’s always something new, and for this visit it was the Cyclamen coum and hellebores, both at their peak. They were amazing. If the seedlings weren’t already all destined for the Gala sales tables I could have really done some damage to my wallet, so as a plan B, I convinced myself that I could replicate this at my own place by sowing plenty of seed this summer and waiting a couple years and…. well I can at least imagine being able to replicate 🙂

Dr Lonsdale on the right, Timothy Calkins to the left. John is no doubt extolling the virtues of his newly named Cylamen coum ‘Sophie’ strain, it’s the pool of heavy-blooming, dark purple plants at the corner of the bench.

Another vision which I will not even imagine replicating were the clumps of Christmas rose (Helleborus niger) which were in peak flower throughout the gardens. Some had already been blooming for months, but the main show had come on in the last few weeks. Of course they were all of a large-flowered strain, some fading to pink tones, some variegated, and even a double, and all amazing. They were thriving and most had seeded in on their own and of course I didn’t bring up that I’ve killed these plants three times already and the fourth was likely thinking about dying as well… but with eternal optimism I know there will be a fifth try. How could I not be with visions like this!?

Helleborus niger scattered about in the beds of Edgewood Gardens.

Besides dozens and dozens of H. niger there were many other species and crosses of Hellebore. One which I have yet to try killing is the H. thibetanus which has also clumped up and sown around. Unlike many of the other evergreen hellebores, H. thibetanus is one which goes fully dormant for the summer and seems to be a little more critical of growing conditions not entirely to its liking. Maybe if I can ever stop killing off the cute little H. niger seedlings I’ll give this trickier one a try.

More H. niger with H. thibetanus behind. They were quite nice…

Oh and other hellebores. Fancier species and hybrids fill the lower slope but even the commoners which fill the upper portion of the hillside were nothing to complain about. Hmmm. There’s a slope behind our house going down to the industrial park. Native plants might be ideal, but thousands of hellebores? That might also be a nice option.

Hundreds of self-sown hellebore at Edgewood Gardens. With other treasures galore these plants are a little more prolific than one might like, but in bloom it’s an excellent sight.

Besides the show stoppers there were thousands of other things coming along such as peonies, trillium, trout lilies, hepaticas, snowdrops, winter aconite, corydalis… even the paths were peppered with treasures.

This bunch of full-bloom troutlily surely ended up in every visitor’s camera roll. It was perfect. Erythronium caucasicum for those who need to know these things.

So Friday was a great pre-game. A day filled with thousands of snowdrops, multiple gardens, beautiful weather, and then an evening of great food, friends, and the first Gala talk (an online presentation) covering the work of Nancy Goodwin and her amazing Montrose Gardens. I was now all set to tackle the Galanthus Gala the next morning.

As the crowds gather outside, David Culp and Andy Schenk work out last minute strategy. Hellebores fill the sales tables and Gerald Simcoe’s Gala display graces the center of the space.

This year I offered to carry a box and thereby managed to sneak in past the crowds. Quite a slick move if you ask me but once my box carrying skills were revealed I ended up with a bunch of other tasks which almost interfered with my scoping out the sales tables before the opening bell rung. It was worth it though. When the doors opened and the crowd swarmed in I had the chance to see the excitement first hand. Excitement and also a good bit of crazy in some of those eyes. You would be wise not to put yourself between some of the more determined shoppers and the target of their obsessions, and as always it’s a relief to know that in some crowds I can still come off as somewhat not-completely plant obsessed.

About 45 minutes in and the rush has subsided enough to get a picture.

The rest of the day was filled with additional talks, more plant browsing, meeting up with friends, more plant browsing, braving the rain, more plant browsing….

Matthew Bricker and his table-full of perfectly blooming snowdrops. The plants look fresh, Matthew looks fresh and then the crowds came. By the end of the day a total of four pots remained, and I was still considering taking ‘Sentinel’ home and making it three.

In all it was a great trip and event and of course I’ll be there again next year, and maybe then I’ll make a stronger effort to be more social, since for some reason I felt a little talked-out by lunchtime. Maybe carrying a jar of Nutella to boost my energy throughout the day is a good plan since being talked-out is no excuse on a once a year chance to swim through the biggest pool of snowdrop nuts in the US, and a full year is a long time to wait when an opportunity is lost.

Thanks of course to all the organizers and planners who put so much time and effort into getting this together each year. I can only imagine since to me it always seems to go off without a hitch and I’m sure in reality there are quite a few bumps along the way. All the best until next year!

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.

sorta like suburbia

more than you ever wanted to know about my garden