A Gala Recap

Mar5

As promised, my recap of the single gardening event which I most look forward to each year will be brief. I had an excellent time. I took three pictures. I am not a good historian or social media pro and I apologize, but I wanted to assure you that I met up with friends, made new ones and sold a good amount of snowdrops… and bought a decent amount of new plants. That was the goal and as usual the day flew by and too soon it seems the venue was cleared out and rooms went quiet. If I had to name a highlight it was catching up with friends whom I see far too little, but on a sales note I was most pleased to hear that some of my galanthus will end up on the West Coast in Heronswood Garden. I’m sure they keep impeccable records, and the thought that “Sorta Suburbia” will appear in their database amongst some of the greatest names in modern horticulture wows me. That is unless I got the story wrong. You never know. Maybe they’ll be gifted to someone before they make the flight, but for now let me live my dream.

The Sorta Suburbia contribution to the annual Gala auction. A healthy collection of snowdrops which will hopefully flourish for their new owner.

It looks like all the uncertainty and rush in the days prior worked out. Chipping frozen pots out of the ground, dragging plants in and out of the garage to keep them a bit warmer, sitting a few things under lights to push them along, and then a frenzied last day before when a few last plants were potted up and labels and prices went on. Figures this was also the week when I was staying at work until 8pm and one last blast of winter rolled through. I really didn’t know what would look good until the day before the sale, and that’s when I settled on one of the more important decisions, the auction items. A big pot of ‘Diggory’, a full pot of “Belvedere’s Gold’, and two doubles, ‘Celia’s Double’ and ‘Walter’s Double’. I was especially proud of the two doubles, but I’m afraid my little joke of having them both in there was lost on most people. They come from the garden of Celia and Walter Sawyer, and I suggested the couple should always grow together, but as usual this might be another case of my humor not quite landing. Also I had been planning on dropping the labeled plants off the morning of, but when a text to David Culp about which plant to actually include ended with ‘think presentation’ my entire plan was upended. I never even thought of presentation. I don’t do presentation. Presentation is fancy and those two words made me second guess everything! Long story short, better pots were found by pulling a few houseplants out of their quarters, a blanket of moss was scraped off the frozen earth, and a burlap table cloth was cut up for a wrapper for Celia and Walter. The snowdrops were still safe in their growing containers, but they were now tucked into something much more presentable. I was pleased.

‘The Wizard’ did not sell last year so were replanted back into the garden. One good thing to see was that even after sitting on the driveway for two or more weeks before replanting, these and other unsold plants did just perfectly. I’d hate to find out I was selling plants which would not thrive in their new homes.

Come to think of it there were a few instances of awkward moments and verbal duds. I guess people saw the Youtube tour from last summer or remembered me from the sales table at the previous Gala and my cloak of anonymity is officially torn and trashed. Tops was when a wonderfully friendly person came up to me and told me what a beautiful snowdrop garden I have and it almost became an argument because I don’t really, and was sure she didn’t mean me and kept insisting she had the wrong person. She even added that we had a friend in common and of course I can’t remember names either so that turned ugly as well. I really really hope she did mistake me for someone else because at least she thinks they’re a jerk and not me, but I do seem to remember her referring to me as Frank, so…

At home the beautifully warm Saturday brought on full bloom for the snowdrops near the house. In a close-up it looks amazing!

By Sunday I was home again, and safely removed from people other than those who have years of experience dealing with me, and although it was around freezing all day the sun was out and the snowdrops were sprouting… and I was in a panic because the front yard was a mess of dead stems and windblown trash and that all does not translate to an attractive springtime show. I bundled up and cleared a bunch. Monday after work I cleaned a bunch more and after an icy and rainy Tuesday break I finished most of the front yard today. Today was beautifully sunny and I bet if I didn’t check every snowdrop sprout before starting work I’d have gotten much further, but all work and no play is… sad.

So the snowdrops are exploding and the weather just gets warmer each day and of course I will likely not have time again until this Sunday, but don’t feel bad. I’m doing a few fun things and can’t complain… unless it gets too warm and everything goes over faster than it gets started which is a real possibility with still frozen ground today, yet a high next week of 79F (26C). I hope it doesn’t all burn up though, and I hope things are going well where you’re at and things are just as promising for you. Have a great week.

Not. Spring.

Feb26

So for a few days last week it warmed up, and the snow melted and there was even the sound of rain on the roof, and I’m always surprised by how odd that sounds after months without, but it’s not real. Snow came again, temperatures dropped, and thankfully we don’t have the 2+ feet of snow which my parents had to dig out of… well sort of… my 91 year old father was scolded for trying, but somehow his youthful bride went on to shovel paths to the birdfeeder and compost pile and fortunately called it quits when it came to the mailbox. She reluctantly called in a plow who did the rest of the digging out for them in exchange for a well-earned wad of cash. I held back a laugh when she said she wasn’t sure if my brother would be ok with the plow since he said he would come over and tackle it with the snowblower, but I know how my brother really feels about that job so was glad when things worked out as they did.

Welcome back to ‘Potter’s Prelude’, typically a late November bloomer, but due to a late start and then a couple months in the freezer, he’s only just now thawing out and coming back to life. Snow is a great insulator. Temperatures down to 0F and these delicate blooms are still perfect.

It was great to see plants again and poke around a bit and even clean up a few snowdrop patches, but it does not feel like spring yet. That’s a surprise from someone who will declare the season as soon as possible, but things are still sleepy even with a string of above freezing temperatures and a steady melt. The witch hazels were convinced a little after the fourth day without frost, but even then it was just a few tentative blooms which opened. The rest are still cautious. Caution is a good thing for witch hazels in this garden because it’s a dangerous land, full of witch hazel-eating bunnies who just wait for a fence to shift in the snow enough so they can get in and “severely prune” all the exciting new witch hazel grafts which I purchased last winter. They weren’t cheap by the way. To be on the safe side though, I ordered a few more. It’s an investment I told myself.

I would never be brave enough to give these young grafts such a hard-prune, but the bunnies had no problem. Perhaps this is just what they needed to branch out perfectly with strong new growth this summer… said with a mix of optimism and sarcasm…

Speaking of investments, I spent Saturday digging any snowdrops which looked remotely close to blooming, and potted them up for this Saturday’s Galanthus Gala in Downingtown Pa. I thought last year was a stressful, locked in cold for the Gala year, but this year tops it! There are a few trays filled. They’re up by the garage where it’s a little warmer, drug in when it’s cold and back out when it’s warmer and I hope they look well enough for the sale. I’m still hoping to add a few winter aconite if anything opens, but the clock is ticking down faster than the thermometer clicks up and I don’t think it’s is enough to inspire them to bloom.

Flats of snowdrops ready to head out to their new homes. Many average things, many I love, and a few treasures which I’m forcing myself to offer for sale in order to support my habit.

Saturday looks to be beautiful. Warm temperatures, bright sun and I shall be amongst fellow plant lovers and table after table of early spring goodies for sale. I’m excited. There will be engaging speakers, a fun and oftentimes dramatic auction, and from what I hear there might be a ticket or two which have become available to the in-person Saturday afternoon talks, but that opportunity may have already passed, so check this >link< before you get your hopes up. Even without a ticket to the talks, virtual tickets are a thing, and with that you can watch at your leisure and still take in all the plant sales and the auction, and if you skip tickets altogether the sales area and auction are still worth the trip, all for just the price of showing up.

I hope to see you there, and promise to take plentiful pictures and give a full report for those who can’t make it. -Sorry, just kidding. I get caught up in the day and never remember to snap a photo until it’s cleanup time, so I’ll apologize ahead of time. Hope you are having a wonderful week and hang in there. Spring will come, and for us it might be as early as next week which would be nice.

The Recap

Mar8

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

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

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

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

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

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

Edgewood Gardens warming up and coloring up with Adonis amurensis

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Off to the Gala!

Feb28

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

galanthus snowdropfevers Nell's Birthday

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

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

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

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

Brrrrrrrrrr

Feb15

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

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

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

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

An icy frosting to the garden

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hang in there and have a great weekend!

Winter Solstice ’24

Dec21

Somehow it’s already the Winter Solstice and when you’re focused on making it through the busy weeks before Christmas these things can sneak up on you. Not that the timing changes much from year to year, but with all eyes focused on food and gifts and vacation plans, this celestial switch from shortening days to lengthening ones can slip by. Winter has a timer running now, and although here we are plunging into a few days of cold again, on this longest night of the year we start climbing back out of this winter darkness.

Just a few days ago ‘Faringdon Double’ was just beginning to nose up. A couple days of warm weather later and he’s been tricked into bloom. We will see how he holds up to the cold.

On the plus side the warm weather thawed the soil and allowed me to plant the last couple hundred tulips which have been sitting in the garage. The garlic should have also gone in as well, but maybe eating it isn’t the worst solution along with a year off from garlic growing and buying a few new cloves for planting next fall. Who says that just because you can, you must?

The arriving cold brought more snow than expected which should act as a decent cover for all the autumn/winter snowdrops already in growth. This is ‘Potter’s Prelude’ in case your ID skills are iffy 😉

Actually I use the ‘because I can’ logic all the time, so maybe during our likely January thaw they will still get planted… or not… since there’s always plenty of other things which need doing around here, like things which flood the basement with water and need unplugging and cleaning up, which fortunately didn’t happen on Christmas Eve but there’s still time.

Also, since this blog rarely offers useful or timely information I guess now might be a good chance to point out that there’s still time to blow on an ember or throw gasoline on the flames of obsession, if those flames are for snowdrops. One of the first, and one of the longest running purveyors of named snowdrops in the US, Mr Hitch Lyman, should be sending out his list during the first days of the new year. You can’t request it online and you can’t dilly dally since once the list goes out it sells out, so dust off that stationary and get a note off to him asap if you want your own copy.

Mr Hitch Lyman, Box 591, Trumansburg NY 14886. Years ago I believe $2 or $3 was added to cover the cost, but I’d play it safe with $5 these days, and in my opinion the art and the read are worth it even if you don’t fall for the drops. I may be biased of course.

The front porch is ready for the longest night. A few more inches of snow have fallen since and it looks absolutely seasonal now.

I apologize for again drifting into snowdrops but another timely note is that the date for this year’s Galanthus Gala has been set. Snowdroppers from near and far will be descending upon Downingtown Pa Saturday, March 1st for a day of lectures, sales, and camaraderie. There will still be ups and downs this winter, but the date will be here before we know it, and what better promise on this longest night than the promise of a new season and a Gala. Of course I’ll mention it again once tickets go on sale. I’m sure you would expect no less from someone who does tend to go on far too long about those little white flowers.

Enjoy. If it’s cold where you are, I hope for warmth, and if you’re ramping up for celebrations I wish you a blessed holiday season.

**Hopefully no one is too upset that the longest night was actually the Friday night before the solstice, but I started the post yesterday and just didn’t feel like changing everything today 😉

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.

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 😉

A Gala Comes and Goes

Mar10

Last weekend Downingtown Pennsylvania played host to a ‘Galanthus Gala’, an American version of the late-winter gatherings which have tended to form amongst growers and admirers of the brave little snowdrop. As a grower and admirer I felt it was my duty to attend, and true to form I arrived late and stayed too long. Also true to form I forgot to take pictures, which really cuts into the the basis for any of my posts, but content and quality have never stood in my way before so here goes!

My only photo of the vendor area. Thank you Timothy for this one, when he stopped talking for a second to take a photo, I was inspired to do the same. The crowds have thinned and there’s bare table. This is several hours after the frenzy of the doors opening.

I was glad to be there talking to friends, going on and on about plants and snowdrops, listening to talks, getting expert advice, soaking in the atmosphere, enjoying the auction… it was the return of the gala I had missed during the two year pause from Covid.

A little bit of celebrity at the Gala with the famed author David Culp alongside a friend who came to join him. Many thanks to my friend Bridget Wosczyna for this photo, she has enough sense to photograph people as well as all the plant treasures.

So to stick with the important highlights let me just mention that David Culp has read my blog but I don’t think his friend Martha has. But… David’s partner Michael Alderfer admitted he had read the last post about our visit to his garden and that’s one of the highlights of my day for sure. I hope I wasn’t too awkward when he said it though, because for a few seconds I thought he was joking with me and so I of course tried to change the subject pretty fast. Fortunately the Galanthus Gala’s artist-in-residence, Gerald Simcoe, was also there and we started talking about his amazing gala centerpiece. I don’t know if Gerald reads my blog, but I do know that if you click the link for his name you’ll not only access images of some of his artwork, but you’ll also be able to find your way to his online snowdrop listings. All the galanthus in his display are out of his own woodland, and to add to the fun he’s listed some for sale on his site.

A corner of this year’s centerpiece featuring ‘Walrus’ and ‘Blewbury Tart’ behind. ‘Walrus’ struggles here, and to hear Gerald say he divides it and spreads it around just in case a clump decides to pick up and die made me feel a bit better about my own clump’s failure to thrive.

At times during the Gala events there was an air of sadness, as the recent death of Alan Street was still fresh on the minds of many. Alan was Head Nurseryman of Avon bulbs and is one of the great names of the snowdrop world. He was one of the featured speakers at the last in-person gala, and to hear him talk of special drops and the stories behind them, peppered with references to art, literature, and mythology, was a treat to everyone in the audience. I didn’t know him personally, but he struck me as a fun person with a spark of mischief, but also a plain nice soul. At the last gala I stumbled upon him and his friends eating lunch, and tried to be unobtrusive on a bench in the corner, but he spotted me and insisted there was still plenty of room at the table for another chair or two. And that’s how I ended up eating lunch next to Alan Street. I don’t think he ever read my blog, but he was so polite that day asking about my little backwater garden and what I was growing, that I felt like a brilliant grower, on par with one of the greats, and it was my highlight of the day.

A growing legacy in the Downingtown Friends Meeting House cemetery. Each gala, attendees are encouraged to bring and plant a few snowdrops in memory of loved ones. It has been heartwarming to see the plantings of past years begin to grow and flourish.

Of course these things end too quickly and before I knew it I was back in the mountains spending the evening taking kids for ice cream and dropping them off at basketball games. Just for the record these kids do not read my blog.

The Gala haul, a mix of trades and purchases but all purely excellent. For some reason I bought one more pot of gravel which claims to be an expensive peony seedling, and it’s things like that which you never see coming.

All the hardier purchases were planted out the next day, which is unusually prompt for me, because it was such a nice day (in spite of being just 24 hours after the latest slush and ice storm).

It took me a number of years, but I can finally appreciate ‘Modern Art’. This is after several years of a ‘just meh’ opinion.

‘Armine’ is particularly large this year. Here it usually colors more yellowish than deep green, and as it gets paler, takes on the airs of a much more expensive ‘color changing’ irrlicht drop.

Galanthus ‘Lapwing’ in front with his distinctive inners, and ‘Erway’ behind with his odd ovary and overall paler foliage and stems. I don’t know if ‘Erway’ looks the same everywhere, but here he’s pretty consistent in his pale coloring.

As you’ve probably guessed, the rest of this post is just random snowdrops around the garden. It’s been a long, drawn out season with few destructive cold spells, and no loads of heavy snow, so the drops have never looked better.

‘S. Arnott’ clumping up from his original single bulb. This is one to divide and spread around, I can’t imagine ever having too many.

‘Good Blue Leaf’ is one of my favorite forms. Everything about it is perfect and I’ll divide this one as well, more so you can enjoy the uncrowded blooms and foliage.

If all goes well I’ll be investing some time this spring into dividing and moving crowded clumps, and addressing wayward seedlings. I can’t possibly complain about volunteer plants, but I don’t want them confusing the names of my purchased bulbs.

Yellow snowdrop seedlings are marching away from the original mother clump of ‘Primrose Warburg’. I’m surprised by how consistent the seedlings are, nearly all of them could pass themselves off as the original… which they are not.

Perhaps I shall start a ‘good’ seedlings and an ‘average’ seedlings bed, in addition to my North Pole bloodbath bed and my white trash bed. Last weekend a friend traded me a ‘Beluga’ to swim with ‘Narwhal’, and threw in a ‘Polar Bear’ to see what happens. Hope it doesn’t get too ugly adding such a predator to the mix.

Lest you become too impressed by this year’s snowdrop photos, this view shows something a little closer to reality. Closeups and careful cropping make things look far lusher than an in-person visit would show.

Speaking of visits, the dog has become a regular even though he’s always a regular, and a total of two children have toured the garden. Although they haven’t mentioned being impressed by the snowdrops, I’m sure they are and that brings this year’s tour total to three. Perhaps this is the reason I enjoy the Galanthus Gala as much as I do. It’s always nice to escape the eye rolls for a day!

sorta like suburbia

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