Slow Learner

Jan19

I’m not very good at saying no to volunteer plants. Volunteer plants of course are the ones which just step forward to fill spots that you didn’t even know were spots until they volunteered to fill them. I guess they’re generous little things which just want to give… plus they’re free… and require no labor or attention… and that’s probably also a big plus in my book. Some people might say the word ‘weeds’ right now, and I say bite your tongue. If you can call sunflowers and foxgloves weeds, well then you’re probably a little higher class than this blog usually attracts and I suggest clicking on your way before you hold me liable for the time I’m about to waste.

A clump of snowdrops (Bill Bishop if you really have to know) in a photo from last January. Note the tiny rounded leaves in the center of the sprouts. Soooooo innocent looking….

One year later. A big fat rosette of foxglove foliage right where a snowdrop clump wishes to emerge. Please let’s overlook the many autumn leaves scattered about, and the as-yet untrimmed muscari foliage.

Ok, good. Now that we’ve ‘weeded out’ a certain type of reader, I just want to reassure anyone who’s left that you’re entirely high class, but of the type who just is and not the type who only thinks they are. I suspect you all have soft spots for foxgloves and that brings me to today’s dilemma. It’s not just any foxglove, it’s the especially special strawberry foxglove (Digitalis x mertonensis) and of course it’s right on top of ‘Bill Bishop’ and we all know that’s not going to work out.

There he is. Bill is happily sprouting up right exactly where he should be.

Normally a few stray foxgloves don’t even come close to causing a problem. Any other year they’re just a crumbly mess of winter killed foliage by the time the snowdrops arrive, and with just a little brushing aside all is well. This year things are different, and I might have to try a midwinter transplant because obviously I can’t just rip out this trooper, no matter how free she is.

It goes without saying that had I been attentive and moved the seedling last summer none of this would have been a problem. Sort of like had I been more attentive and less lazy for the last seven years maybe my WordPress disk space wouldn’t have reached 99% full with only just the few photos which I’ve uploaded over the years. Hmmm. I should have read the memo a few years ago when I first reached my limit and had to purchase a blogger plan rather than enjoy free access, but noooo, let me put it off a little more. Apparently re-sizing photos is a kind of important thing, which I’m sure everyone else knows but it just seemed like so much extra work at the time… and obviously I’m not one to embrace extra work.

So with a nice snow squall covering up the ground and ending any thoughts of transplanting, I’ve headed indoors and have committed to shrinking my digital footprint. So far I’ve spent hours editing posts, reloading re-sized photos and then deleting the old. Of course it’s my own fault. Ignorance is bliss, but what kind of stupid thinks a 4.2MB (4200KB) cabbage photo would be necessary when a 143KB will do? I’m up to September 2013 in case anyone is wondering.

While on the subject of time-wasting, I reorganized my Cyclamen coum seedlings to see how close seedlings from the mother plant resemble each other. These were all from a purple with mostly green leaves in case you’re wondering.

Every now and then even the most committed data processor needs a break, so with short days, early nights, and plenty of here and there snow, the winter garden has again become my man cave and I’m obsessing about Cyclamen again.

Cyclamen rhodium ssp. peloponnesiacum is a treasure I picked up at last year’s Galanthus Gala. It might be hardy, but that would mean not seeing these awesome leaves all winter, and why risk that!?

I thought I was good, and all last summer I was fully impressed with myself for having more cyclamen than ever before, but then the cold weather hit and maybe I do need more. I would have had more, but some stinkin’ mouse family robbed me of nearly all last year’s ripening seed pods, in a way that I didn’t even know the pods were hollowed out until I turned one and saw the bottoms all nibbled out. “Stinkin’ mouse” isn’t really the term I used, but since only the classiest readers remain I’ll try to keep it civil.

Fortunately I know a guy. A little back and forth with Dr. Lonsdale over at Edgewood Gardens and two new and extremely exciting cyclamen have found their way here. Plus a hellebore!

Two Cyclamen hederifolium with a faint flush of pink towards the center. Also hard to see is the variegation in the Hellebore niger seedling to the right, but it has it and I can’t wait for it to settle in to the garden this spring.

Another area I need to make more effort in is my indoor fertilizing regime. The new additions from Edgewood are so well rooted they put all my plants to shame. Dr Lonsdale has told me before to switch to something more specialized like a tomato fertilizer or anything with a lower first number (Nitrogen) but this blockhead will need a little more hammering, so one step at a time.

In the meantime, again let me say I’m pretty excited about the new additions. The cyclamen are cool, but the hellebore will probably rank as one of the rarest things in my garden. Take a look at a picture or two of >mature plants< and I think you’ll agree this little year old seedling is going to grow into something special.

Not as special as re-sizing thousands of photos and editing hundreds of posts, but close I’m sure. Have a great week!

Our Days Are Numbered

Nov6

There’s an impending air of doom hanging over the garden, and the threat of next week taints everything. The Cubs winning the World Series was likely the first sign of the apocalypse and now I can only imagine what next Wednesday could bring. Our current stretch of warm weather has me even more nervous since as we know from high school science, freezing is an exothermic process and on the chance that Hell has indeed frozen over science would predict that things up here on the surface would warm up as a result. I’ve never hoped for a cold snap more, even if it means losing the last of the autumn flowers.

The latest of my seedling chrysanthemums. This one’s not as hardy as the rest but does well enough up near the foundation.

The last of the autumn leaves are really hanging on in the warmth. This red maples along the fence is always my favorite with its sunset blend of reds, oranges, and yellows. As the days go on it will hopefully fade to pale yellow with red highlights before finally covering the lawn with a carpet of next year’s mulch and compost.

For most of the year I resent the greedy water stealing roots of this pesky red maple (Acer rubrum), but for a few days in autumn I forgive it and soak up every glowing minute of its final foliage show.

Closer to the ground the earliest (or latest, depending on your perspective) bulbs are beginning to show signs of growth. My absolute favorite right this moment is the fall blooming snowdrop a friend of mine brought back for me from Nancy Goodwin’s Montrose Gardens in Hillsborough, North Carolina. I love a plant with a story and this one has a good one. Its full name is Galanthus elwesii var. monostictus Hiemalis group ex. Montrose and to be honest I love writing that one out. It’s the nerdy Latin way of describing a fall blooming snowdrop with a single green mark that comes to me via Montrose Gardens. This one and its thousands of sisters are all the descendants of a handful of bulbs Mrs. Goodwin purchased decades ago at a local hardware store. They say the rest is history, but in this case it’s a history which required years of division and transplanting as the bulbs were slowly spread across her acres of woodland. The bulbs now make an unparalleled show each autumn around Thanksgiving and I wouldn’t rule out some day making the eight hour trip to see it in person. Such are the dreams of the obsessed, but if you’d like more information have a look at this NY Times article on a visit to the gardens, and also consider looking up Nancy Goodwin’s book “Montrose: Life in a Garden” for a monthly chronicle of the gardens. She was also a big fan of the Cyclamen family and grows thousands of them as well. That’s my kind of gardener.

Galanthus elwesii var. monostictus Hiemalis group ex. Montrose. Yeah.

Besides fall blooming snowdrops, there was also an October surprise here when my two auricula primrose insisted on sending up a few autumn flower stalks. I’d rather they waited until spring since the flowers don’t look nearly as big or nice as the could, but my hope is they really liked their repotting and are only just ramping up to an even more amazing show in March under the growlights…. unless they’re planning on dying, which is always another possibility for plants in my care.

A pair of primula. Primula auricula hybrids to be exact. The yellow had bloomed before but this is the first flower for the brownish one, and I’m pleased with the color.

Some other final color in the garden is the Aster oblongifolius ‘Raydons Favorite’. It waits until the very end of the season and carries it out with a clear lavender blue color and attractive dark eyes as the flowers fade. I should really give it a little more room and respect next year, and not let it suffer all summer crowded and untended while the summer annuals steal the show.

Amidst the mildew decay of fading peony foliage and frosted zinnias, Aster ‘Raydons Favorite’ offers up fresh color for this part of the border. I think more would be a good idea.

I can’t do a late fall post without slipping in a cyclamen or two. They’re sending out more and more of their beautiful foliage and while other parts of the garden are fading, these go from strength to strength. I may have to talk to John Lonsdale about adding a few new ones since you can never have too many of these treasures and he always seems to have a few special ones for sale at Edgewood Gardens.

The hardy Cyclamen hederifolium starts flowering without foliage in late summer. I love it even more when the leaves begin to come up and there are still plenty of blooms to accent them.

The range of foliage types in Cyclamen hederifolium is really outstanding. The dainty and distinct flowers are almost more of an afterthought.

A pale pink form of Cyclamen hederifolium with a leaf pattern which I love.

For the moment I may have resisted adding any new Cyclamen but don’t be under the false impression I’ve resisted all the other goodies which can be found during fall planting season… or even better found during autumn clearance sales. For some reason I found the Santa Rosa clearance sale (still going on btw, and don’t miss out on the additional 20% off coupon code) and discovered I needed more grasses and a trio of carnivorous pitcher plants. Who knew?

Three new bog plants (Sarracenia) for the bog I don’t have. Hopefully I can keep them happy elsewhere since they’re so absolutely cool with their sinister insect trapping pitchers.

As I go on and on about new plants I won’t even mention the tulips which need planting, the daffodils which need replanting, and the projects which need finishing before the bottom drops out of this pleasant autumn weather. Let’s hope that’s the only thing which the bottom drops out of this week.

Have a good one!

Goodnight Cyclamen

Jan3

There’s royalty in some plants, and I’m pretty sure cyclamen carry these bloodlines. Obviously (to me at least) the queen of the family is the tender greenhouse cyclamen (from the c. persicum line), with her bright fancy flowers and her holiday appropriate bright colors, but the other members of the family all deserve equally elite titles. Lets start with the king who lives in my garden and goes by the name of Cyclamen hederifolium. His crowning glory is the diversity of exotic patterns and varied shapes which his winter-hardy foliage takes on.

A kaleidoscope of hardy Cyclamen hederifolium foliage.

The round corms of this plant sit dormant underground for most of the summer until about August when the first flowers start coming up to dapple the shaded bed where they grow. The pink or white flowers are nice enough, but as soon as they fade the ground begins to grow a covering of the beautiful cyclamen leaves. They love the cool temperatures of autumn and as the rest of the garden drops its leaves the cyclamen bed takes on its winter silver and green foliage blanket.

cyclamen hederifolium narrow silver foliage

Leaf shapes for the king vary from wide to narrow, rounded to more of an ivy (Hedera) leaf shape. Here’s a nice narrow leaved silver form.

The leaves will stay for the winter, and with a good snow cover look as fresh as ever when the snow retreats. It’s only in late spring that the leaves die back and the plant goes dormant again, and because of this it’s a plant I think is perfect for filling in those dark, boring mulch beds under deciduous trees who’s shade is too dark for anything else.

hardy cyclamen hederifolium foliage

If the king likes the spot he’ll form a nice colony as seedlings fill in. Any winter-vacant spot is fair game for a clump of C. hederifolium seedlings, and I’m beginning to see them come up in all sorts of spaces, even the lawn.

hardy cyclamen hederifolium silver foliage

The tiny leaves at the center of the clumps are new seedlings from last year’s flowering. Even on the smallest seedling leaf the foliage patterns begin to show off.

I’d like to give different parts of the garden over to some of the more unique foliage patterns and see what shows up. In the far back of the yard I have this white blooming, green and silver leafed form.

This Cyclamen hederifolium has a brighter green color when compared to its relatives. It’s always nice to have something a little different.

Another form which could be really interesting (and I think already is really interesting) is this purple tinted foliage form. When fall temperatures drop, a purple wash bleeds through the foliage and the plant takes on an entirely new look. I’ve only got a few weakly colored examples, but some I’ve seen have a bright pink and purple color which looks great.

cyclamen hederifolium purple tinted foliage

Pink highlights on Cyclamen hederifolium foliage.

The bold C. hederifolium dominates the shade right now, but other hardy cyclamen also carry on the family name throughout the garden. Princess coum will grow in the same beds as the king, but in the long run is crowded out be his overbearing ways. Her waterlily shaped foliage is less intricate than the king’s but still shows off the silver marbling of the family and as is befitting of a princess she is covered with jewel like blooms as soon as the snow melts.

Hardy cyclamen coum, a princess of the cyclamen family.

For the past two years as snowpocalypse has hit the east coast the delicate princess coum lost all her leaves and nearly all blooms, but has always bounced right back. King hederifolium suffered a bit but mearly shrugged it off during the summer, but there’s a third family member in my garden who didn’t skip a beat. Prince (or maybe Duke, I’m kind of losing my way here) purpurascens seems to be the hardiest of the bunch. I’ve seen Cyclamen purpurascens listed as less hardy than the other two, but in my experience he’s never been bothered by low temperatures (although we usually have some snow cover) and although he’s the slowest of the bunch (even seeds take over a year to mature) C. purpurascens is reliable. He doesn’t even lose his leaves in the summer.

A sloppy planting of hardy Cyclamen purpurascens. The leaves are similar to C. coum, yet slightly sturdier and have more of a veinier marbling.

This morning marks the last day of Christmas vacation and the first day in which temperatures have dropped low enough to freeze the top crust of soil. Neither of these are something I look forward to but you get what you get, and even if that means a low of 8F (-13C) tomorrow nothing short of an early retirement and move down south will change things. So today I say goodnight to my outdoor cyclamen as they slip under the blanket of their winter sleep.

The royal family will carry on though, and if you want a bigger and more diverse intro give Jon Lonsdale’s Edgewood Gardens a visit. Besides growing and showing many of the other, less hardy members of the royal family, most of the plants are available for sale and I’m certain you won’t find a better selection elsewhere on the East coast.

The Winter Garden 2014/15

Jan25

My winter garden is having a good season so far. Usually I don’t bother setting things up until around New Year’s but this season the shop lights went on in October for some special cuttings, and things have been humming along since. The hardy cyclamen coum which I keep potted up are just starting to put on a show, and now that I’ve dispatched Mr. Mouse the blooms can open in peace.

The “Winter Garden” with cyclamen coum in bloom. I love the flowers alongside the bright variegated leaves of the plectranthus (probably ‘Troy’s Gold’).

For those of you who might not be as up to date with my garden as you’d like 🙂 here are a few statistics on the tiny little patch of plants which serves as my winter garden. Basically it’s a four tube fluorescent shop light set up in an unheated workshop just off the back of the cool (never freezing) garage. The bulbs are a generic T-8 type, usually in the ‘daylight’ or ‘natural light’ category but it really just depends on what I grab the day I’m shopping for lights. That’s it. Not quite a citrus filled orangerie or a warm, sunny conservatory, but it does the trick on a dark January evening. I’m considering buying a few more and lining the side of the room with them in order to grow something bigger and fragrant. A little goldfish pool back there wouldn’t bother me much either, might as well put a fountain in while I’m at it.

hardy cyclamen growing indoors under lights

Another two or so weeks and the cyclamen should really put on a nice show.

Last year I had a bunch of snowdrops and some early spring blooming perennial purchases from Far Reaches Farm. They were awesome but this year I spent my winter treat money a few months too early and had to improvise, so on a warm December afternoon I went out and dug up a clump of almost completely frozen primula vulgaris for forcing.

They needed dividing anyway, which eventually I did…. after letting them thaw out and sit in the dark for a week or so (not a recommended of course, but you know how things can get away from you during the holidays!)

A month later and they’re starting to wake up. They probably won’t have as long a bloom season as some of the newer hybrid types, but I love their soft yellow color and big clumps of blooms.

One of the primula divisions coming along. Fingers crossed for a good show! (please ignore the dying coleus next to it. Cold weather, overwatering and coleus are not a good mix)

I have a new favorite celebration. As any Northern hemisphere gardener will know, the winter solstice marks the shortest day of the year and the point beyond which days lengthen and the march into spring begins. But gardeners also know we don’t rush out in January and start planting. It takes a while for the sun to catch up, shake off winter, and get things going again. According to the ever interesting blog at MacGardens, the turning point for this is the January 21st celebration of ‘post-solstice’. One month after winter solstice and the sun is starting to turn the tide of winter, bringing soil temperatures back from their lowest point (happening somewhere around Jan 21st) back up into the civilized range. Speaking of civilized, check out MacGardens for a special treat of cool plants, exotic alpines, and just plain old interesting gardening.

I’m always trying to get out of the ‘average’ category of photography. Here’s one of my favorite cyclamen coum which I attempted to set up for a nice portrait.

Until post-solstice kicks in and we can again search for signs of life outdoors I’ll stick to the indoor garden. With more snow on the way tonight I think that’s the best plan. Here’s another plant making me happy sheltering from the storm under lights, it’s a variegated ice plant (dorotheanthus bellidiformis, probably ‘mezoo trailing red’). Not to ‘out’ my slacker gardening, but the cuttings might have been hastily thrown on a workbench back in November when the first hard frost hit. They sat there unplanted for at least a month until I got around to potting them up and don’t seem to have minded at all. Surviving rootless on a table for over a month ranks well on my plant-o-meter.

dorotheanthus bellidiformis 'mezoo trailing red'

Variegated ice plant finally living the good life with soil and water (and plenty of roots- I checked)

A few snowdrops weren’t stolen out of their pots or had their heads nibbled off by the late Mr. Mouse, so February should be off to a good, post-solstice, start. In either case I’m just happy that there’s already a bit of light on the horizon when I pull into work, and a rosy glow to the sky when I walk out!

Why wait for spring?

Sep25

I’m halfway enjoying fall this year. Yes, everything is dying, it’s too dry, and we face months of snowy gloom, but right now the fall bulbs are blooming and it’s a little bit of rebirth right before *the end* (sorry but I will never actually look forward to the arrival of winter). The hardy cyclamen, in this case cyclamen hederifolium, have been blooming for several weeks now.

I was ambitious this year and spread a little shredded wood mulch around the cyclamen bed. For a while it looked immaculate under the cherry….. but within minutes the dirty little tree resumed its leaf dropping….

Last winter the polar vortex was brutal on these little guys. Fortunately they’ve shrugged off the foliage loss and act as if nothing at all happened. I wish I had clearer photos, but out of the dozens of cyclamen pictures I took, these were the only two which came out halfway in focus. I need a photo mentor who can begin to point out some of my worst mistakes 🙂

For me the best thing about these hardy cyclamen hederifolium are the leaf patterns, but the flowers aren’t too shabby either….

Cyclamen are the best, but colchicums follow at a close second. Actually the colchicums do put on a more impressive show, but it’s all or nothing with these ladies, and ends more quickly than the slow and steady cyclamen display.

Most of my favorite colchicums are together in this bed. It’s bone dry (the third gooseberry bush actually died this summer) but the bulbs seem right at home.

I’ve devoted the way-too-dry-for-vegetables end of the veggie patch to colchicums and daffodils, and they seem happy enough here, but as the garden grows I’m thinking there might be something better to do with this spot for the other 11 months of the year. Amaranthus once filled the bed, but the soil was too dry for them to survive this summer.

New this year, colchicum ‘‘Harlekijn’ is what I’d call “interesting”. Most pictures show more pink to the bloom, but that might change from year to year. Overall I like the curious rolled (or quilled) petals and they do make for something ‘different’ 🙂

The few colchicums I have planted in the meadow seem just as happy and to my eye look a little more comfortable growing amongst the barely green grass. In fact the only bulb of colchicum autumnale ‘Pleniflorum’ to bloom for me is this one planted in the lawn.

The colchicum autumnale ‘Pleniflorum’ planted in the official colchicum bed don’t bother blooming. This one in the lawn seems marginally more happy and is even gracing us with the sprouting of a second flower bud.

The (I think ) ‘Lilac Wonder’ planted in the lawn is possibly my favorite colchicum. It blooms long, large, and heavily and makes quite the pool of color. I’m thinking next summer might see a lot of these moving around, since they’ve multiplied like rabbits and are ready for dividing, but it’s not something I want to tackle this fall.

Colchicum ‘Lilac Wonder’ growing happily in the (now mowed) meadow.

You might be wondering why I’m even talking about moving flowering bulbs in the fall. According to what I’ve read and heard (and done) colchicums are ok to move while in bloom. It’s probably better to wait till the foliage dies in the summer and the bulbs are dormant, but I’m more of a do it while you remember kind of guy, and it’s much easier (and more fun) to move them while in bloom. You can’t always be a slave to your plants you know, and every now and then they have to just suck it up and deal with things at a less than perfect time.

This unknown clump of colchicums which I call “not the giant” comes from a single stray bulb left behind from the last digging. It’s in full bloom and the roots have just begun to sprout from the base of the corm…. even in soil so dry I could have used a dust mask while digging.

Obviously you want to take a little care with the roots while planting, but to be honest I was more concerned about snapping off the blooms. Instant gardening is what I call this, and the bulbs were planted individually right under the turf without any soil prep.

Two days later the blooms look as fresh as the day I dug them. After being planted into more bone dry soil… and not even watered while transplanting… this will be a true test of how well colchicum handle autumn transplanting. We’ll revisit next fall!

Kathy at Cold Climate Gardening is a truly addicted colchicum lover (I’m just a dabbler), and her recent post on how colchicums know when to bloom asks a lot of the same questions I have. They’re growing in soil so hard and dry I don’t even know how the roots penetrate the soil, yet they do, and cyclamen perform a similar trick. Somehow these bulbs seem to have an odd internal clock that just goes off one day and they start growing. Maybe it’s better I just ignore this heavy thinking and stick to enjoying the blooms, so here’s one last flower to end the post. Not hardy, it’s one of those odd things that find their way into your online cart and then surprise you when you’ve forgotten all about that weak moment with a gift certificate.

A fascinating flower shape, bessera elegans also comes in a rare deep purple. Mine are just blooming and I love it. Keep in mind though that the foliage is a floppy mess of green. Imagine thin dark green daffodil leaves so spineless they can’t lift themselves up off the ground and you have an accurate picture.

So fall flowers are off to a strong start. I wish I had an autumn snowdrop to go with them, but I fear I’ve killed off my one bulb. Obviously I don’t want to talk about it

A new cyclamen

Aug6

I can hardly call this a new cyclamen, it’s been growing in this spot for at least a year and a half and prior to that spent about three years in a pot, slowly growing along. But it’s my first cyclamen purpurascens to bloom from seed, and that’s big and new, and of course I’m pleased 🙂

Cyclamen Purpurascens is the only one of my hardy cyclamen which keeps it’s leaves year round and blooms mid summer. I’m looking forward to seeing more leaves and flowers in the future as these little guys settle in.

I can’t blame the plant for its tardiness, it was all me when it came down to trouble with this species, mostly because I think I over-pampered the poor thing. C. purpurascens is one of the hardiest of the cyclamen and I think when I put it under lights for the winter it would have rather just sat out and braved the cold.

So I finally followed some advice and they all get the tough love now. Seed pots go outside and even potted plants sit out somewhere sheltered from the snow. No complaints yet although I have little hope for the other 4 year old who froze away last winter in a more exposed location and hasn’t been seen since. Four years down the drain, but that’s how it goes sometimes.

Hope for spring

Mar16

Last Sunday was a big day. The first snowdrop managed to pop up and drop the first pure white bloom of the 2014 season. Since then the not-so-pure snow has been on the retreat and temperatures have been almost seasonable! One night temperatures didn’t even drop below freezing, and if you ignore the 9F night (-13C) you could almost imagine spring is close.

I don’t know how they do it, but somehow even from the frozen earth, under a layer of snow and ice, the snowdrops (galanthus elwesii) are growing. I can’t imagine I missed this one in January during the last thaw. It must have continued to grow as melting snow trickled down through the ice and then voila! Spring 🙂Other old friends are reappearing from beneath the filthy snow remnants. Cyclamen hederifolium doesn’t look half bad after having spent the winter under a driveway snow pile.A few feet away cyclamen coum is a different story. The melting snow is leaving me with a mat of sloppy, rotting foliage. Just for the record, you won’t get these pretty pictures on just any blog. We’re here for the good, the bad…. and the ugly.

But spring is a fountain of hope, and even here I was able to find the first bloom coming up! I think they’ll be ok but it’s a different look without the backdrop of healthy foliage (and I hope the tubers are able to prep for next year without their leaves)

Here’s a standard pussy willow shot. Another one of my favorite plants. Not much to look at most of the year, but I’d never be without it 🙂The “solid” winter of 2013/14 has tied up the Northeast in longer than average snowcover, and as a result even the snowdrops are running late. I got this postcard from Hitch Lyman of The Temple Garden Nursery in upstate NY, and what a relief that I won’t be stressing over the long range weather report. By April there should be something! and even if some freak warm spell comes along there are enough other bulbs and hellebores to fill a garden visit. But change your calendars, the new Garden Conservancy open date is April 5 from 11 to 3.

Here’s how my first snowdrop (an anonymous galanthus elwesii given to me by a friend) looks….. and notice another dead cyclamen coum leaf right at it’s base. This spring they all look this way 😦 I’m going to go on about snowdrops now, so tune out if you’ve already had your fill. This week I’m struggling through my attempts to get better pictures. So far I’ve learned nothing, but out of the countless blurry and overexposed pictures I’ve taken, the law of averages has let me bumble into one or two acceptable shots. Here’s my nicest clump of galanthus nivalis (or most likely a hybrid thereof) which was rescued from the edge of a bulldozer rut during a local dairy farm’s gentrification. It’s the last survivor of what used to be swaths of snowdrops…. And here are three new treasures 🙂 -all variations on white, and all making me happier than a sparrow in spring (I’m assuming they’re happy, I finally hear them singing in the mornings). The first is galanthus “Gerard Parker”.
The next, with much smaller blooms and a more average snowdrop look, is galanthus “Chedworth”.and finally (with a drumroll implied) is galanthus “Primrose Warburg”. It’s a little thing, but special enough to make me happy I was able to finally get a non-blurry portrait.
Yesterday I noticed the first winter aconite is out. They’re still tiny and lack confidence, but I’m hoping spring is really on its way (although it’s snowing as I write this and a storm is predicted for tonight). Happy Sunday!

Still hiding indoors

Feb22

We’re into another warm spell, with temperatures predicted to peak at a balmy 50F (10C) this afternoon. I would pull out the shorts and T shirts, but the weather forecast also has a low of 5F (-15C) listed for Wednesday, so maybe I’ll wait another week. For now the indoor garden will have to do while we wait for the snow to melt. Cyclamen coum are at their peak. hardy cyclamen coum indoors under lights Sure they would be hardy outdoors under the snow, but to see them blooming now is twice as nice, even though they have suffered more than ever this winter under my neglectful care. Most are unnamed mixed seed, but the darker, smaller bloom is from the Meaden’s Crimson seed strain.I have some whites outdoors, but only this one under lights. It’s got nice foliage, a decent sized flower, and a nice blackberry smudge on the nose. Also, according to the original listing this seed comes from a wild collected plant of cyclamen coum ssp. causasium, which to me means its mom comes straight from the wilds at the edge of the Black Sea near Turkey and Western Russia (and may also be slightly less hardy than other c. coum). A cool pedigree as far as I’m concerned, but based on the mixed variety of colors and forms that came from this seed batch I’m guessing dad was a local.This one is still my favorite. No fancy reason, just like the color.The snowdrops (galanthus elwesii) which I potted up in December from a late Van Engelen order are doing fine, but just not as well as last years order. There’s just not as much variety in bloom shapes and markings this year, and to me this says it might be time to move on from my bulk snowdrop purchasing days. I’m sure I’ll still pick a couple up here and there, but no more bags of hundreds. Just the other day a friend suggested I try Brent and Becky’s since they usually supply a higher quality and larger bulb…. (so maybe I’ll still have to try one more year of bulk orders) Eventually I hope to bring in a pot or two of my own garden’s clumps and force them indoors, but for now my clumps of just one bulb aren’t ready for that. So until then I’ll have to take what I can get.You might recognize the pinkish primula vulgaris ssp. sibthorpii from my Far Reaches Farm order in January. It’s lookin’ good! I can’t really take any credit for this since all I did was keep it warm and under lights, but it’s a nice treat here amongst the permafrost. Rumor has it that sibthorpii should have a white ring around the yellow center star or else it’s a mixed hybrid, but since mine has been grown under artificial lighting, it may not yet be showing it’s true colors. To save on indoor light space I placed another dormant primrose in a cold spot near the door to keep it asleep…. then the polar vortex and little vortices came through and before I knew it the poor thing was a block of ice. After a slow thaw I have it under the light too, and other than a few freezer burned rosettes of new growth, I believe it will be fine.Another objet d’hope is this group of overwintered geraniums I potted up last week. I had a free afternoon and the strangely bright sunshine made me antsy to get something growing, so after another 25 pots of seeds were sown and placed outside to get a taste of winter, I took pity on the stray geranium cuttings sitting in the dark garage, repotted them and set up the second shoplight.I had been of the opinion that my tropicals under a shoplight experiment was a waste of lighting, but last year’s hanging pots of geraniums look much better for having been under the light. I suspect this will be the year of the geranium (pelargonium) since I now have room for nothing else (other than this sad looking cane begonia- which believe it or not will recover very quickly from this wintertime abuse).The succulents are much less bother. Dim lighting, a cup of water in January, and they look as good today as when I brought them in. As long as they only get enough water to hold off death, they’ll be fine until May. overwintered aloe

May sounds good right now, but I’ll be happy enough when March gets here. It’s scheduled to come in like a lion, but hopefully by the end we’ll see some signs of life outside. Onion seeds were planted last week so even if the ice outside says winter, the calendar will soon start to argue that…. I hope.

Opening day for the winter garden

Jan5

There’s only so much I want to do outdoors while the snow is blowing and the temperatures drop. It looks beautiful and we have plenty of cozy winter gear but unless I have a snow shoveling job to do I’d rather just admire the whiteness from inside the house. So instead of bundling up, I dusted off the shop light and set up my little winter garden. These cyclamen coum and cyclamen hederifolium are hardy enough to overwinter outdoors easily but I’m sure I’d miss them too much under the snow, so it’s nice to have them under lights and in the garage. Plus with blooms starting, it’s time to give them a nicer spot than the dim, dusty windowsill.The snowdrops also need more light, I try to keep them back by holding them in the coolest corner of the garage but they have their own growing timetable. The first of this bunch bloomed in November and now I’m happy to see the rest starting. My apologies for the mess and dirt and less than attractive cardboard backdrop…. no Martha Stewart gardening here.Last winter’s cyclamen seedlings also appreciate the lighting. They didn’t sprout until temperatures cooled in the fall but will now grow and reach a decent size for planting out next spring.

With the lights on, these cyclamen will get more regular watering and we’re going to pretend it’s spring 🙂 There are new blooms just under the gravel waiting to come up, and if it’s between looking outside and looking at this, I’ll take the flowers.Not a bad way to start off the new year. It sure beats the -9F (-23C) I saw on my drive to work the other day. Stay warm!

Cyclamen on the move

Oct22

Rather than do the right thing at the right time I like to test the limits of my plants, so if you’re looking for good advice you might want to move on to your next search result 😉 but if you’re like me and can barely get around to half the stuff you want to (even at the wrong times), well then I say “Tally Ho!”

Cyclamen should be transplanted when dormant if possible. It’s easier and probably less stressful for the plant. I’ve found they don’t really care all that much and do it whenever the mood strikes, so when the mood struck last week (about two months too late) my little guys got roomier quarters. Winter blooming cyclamen coum was my target and this replanting is to get them ready to come indoors and brighten up my winter garden.C. coum is perfectly hardy outdoors around here (zone 5/6ish) and I only keep them potted because they’re so easy to grow and bloom in the back corner of our semi-heated garage. They’ll bloom throughout the darkest days of winter, unless for some reason one decided to start now.

For repotting, a gritty good draining mix is perfect, but mine do well enough in a blend of 3 parts purchased potting soil mixed with about 2 parts sand robbed from the kid’s sandbox. Sometimes the kids complain, and the mix gets less sand. Replant the round bulbs with the top of the corm just at the soil surface and then cover it up with about an inch or so of gravel or grit. I prefer chicken grit since it’s easy to find around here and was the topping first recommended to me by Carol, my cyclamen mentor and enabler.

Finished product.A few of the plain green ‘Meadens Crimson’ went into garden beds since winter garden space is limited, but this was a good start, and not as many plants as I thought, so it inspired me to take a leftover c. coum pot and bring them in too.

How could I resist? I love the one with the ring of pewter patches, and the silver leaf with the small Christmas tree center….. also a favorite. It’s been a few days and the plants have settled in well outside. I feel like the cooler temps and good air circulation help avoid any rot or fungus, and I think the fact they are actively growing helps too, but untangling the leaf and bloom shoots is like separating Velcro.

Most of the fall blooming cyclamen hederifolium will stay outdoors. There are still a few blooms coming up, but from now through winter it will be the foliage which steals the show.

In this dark dry spot under a weeping cherry I’ve been putting a few of the too-large or excess cyclamens.

They might be too close together. I think I’d prefer to be able to enjoy each different leaf pattern separately and some of the smaller plants don’t compete well with the bigger guys. I’ll just have to put that on the to-do list.

Also on the to-do list is finding homes for all the cyclamen hederifolium still in pots. Last year my brilliant idea was to pot them up individually so I could get the full effect of each separate plant and maybe take them all in under lights. Not enough room, so I tried to find a sheltered spot, dug in the pots and gave them a little winter cover and crossed my fingers. Most died either over the winter or during the summer, so I will not test that method again. These surviving treasures will either enjoy a winter garden spot or find a permanent planting bed. The plants near the center are from (like nearly all the other cyclamen) Green Ice seed, these were from the ‘fairy rings’ strain.

I like how this one’s more silvery leaves stand out.

Here’s one that develops a pinkish center as temperatures drop. This one will get a windowsill spot for sure.

I do like my cyclamen…. addiction might be a word you could throw around here…. Just wait until the c. coum start to flower this winter, you’ll be avoiding this blog for sure as the entries fill with the same blooms over and over again. I will try to show a little bit of restraint, but I don’t think I’m the only cyclamen fan out there 😉

If you’re craving more examples of great foliage, check out the garden blogger’s foliage day (GBFD) hosted over at Christina’s Hesperidesgarden. It’s a great chance to check out each month’s best foliage plants from all over the world (and a great blog every other day of the month too!)

sorta like suburbia

more than you ever wanted to know about my garden

Tag Archives: hardy cyclamen