Bulbs Can’t Freeze

Jan21

Freezing seem like as good enough topic as anything because that’s all we seem to have in the forecast. This is like the third week of real winter temperatures and after a bunch of warm years it seems so…. endless. Realistically three or four months of winter wouldn’t be anything surprising in this zone, so with two more months to go there is no reason to complain. It’s just the warmer years of late had me kind of enjoying witch hazel in January and snowdrops throughout. Toughen up I say! Truthfully I should be grateful for the nice solid cold, and the way it freezes up the soil and tells the bulbs to hold on, don’t be fooled, February and March will be early enough to start your growing plans.

Colchicum x byzantinum bulbs are big, and my soil is shallow, and often they just push themselves up and practically sit on top of the soil. Obviously in this position and with temperatures down to 0F (-18C) the bulb and new growth will freeze

Some of the top spring disasters (off a quite lengthy list) have been the result of warm winters which bring things up way before their time. Hellebores in particular must be an unusually optimistic plant which falls for this fake spring followed by a hard freeze every time, but snowdrops can be fooled as well. Often I’m surprised by how well tender growth can survive brutal freezes but it’s not always a happy ending. Right now a better gardener would be covering some of these goodies to keep the worst of the weather off of them.

We will see how well ‘Godfrey Owen’ tolerates the rest of winter after having already come nearly into bloom. Tonight will be cold, next week looks colder.

I guess that brings me around to the title of this post. I often see claims that hardy bulbs need to be protected from freezing, especially those in pots. I disagree. I used to pot up bulbs and throw them into an unheated shed where they would freeze solid for months without ill effect. I’ve dropped bulbs in the fall and had them root into the surface, survive winter exposed and also do just fine. There’s more to it of course but without exposing my own ignorance I’ll just point out a few ‘excepts’ which I’ve come across. Bulbs need to begin rooting before they freeze. Potted bulbs should be on the dry side before freezing. Exposed pots which freeze and thaw repeatedly will suffer. -and the one which I can’t figure out is that potted bulbs will rot when snow melts and then re-freezes on the surface of a pot of bulbs, especially later in the year. My balcony gardening year was always off to a tragic start when a big pot full of tulip and crocus sprouts would all just stop growing after a cold spell hit with snow or rain freezing on top of the pot. Weeks later I would finally give up and pull the still green and solid sprouts out, leaving a rotted bulb behind. 😦

Well that ended on a sad note. If anyone has some thoughts on this let me know. I find the easiest way around this is to just cover planted pots with autumn leaves and then uncover them as soon as temperatures warm, but you know how greedy I am with my autumn leaves! Maybe a board on top to keep the snow and rain off would be good enough, I just have to remember to try that (again) and make a note of how it works out.

In the meantime stay warm and consider that (here at least) the daylength is getting longer by about two minutes each day and we’ve added about 30 minutes since the shortest day of the year. I’m sure we’ll be in flip flops before you know it 😉

The Winter Garden 2022

Jan14

Monday morning was one of the coldest days of the year and this weekend is also set to drop as low as 1F (-17C), and although we are only 14 days into the year that’s about as cold as Sorta Suburbia has been in a while. The temperatures only last about a night or two and the ground is still barely frozen, but only time will tell how these surprisingly normal lows will work with my new, optimistically mild, global warming planting plan full of autumn blooming snowdrops and zone 7 Crinum lilies.

Happier plantings are sheltered in the garage under fluorescent shoplights. They’re experiencing a few ‘chilly’ nights, but nothing even close to the freezing cold outside.

A better gardener would put this cold-induced break to good use, planning seed orders and organizing planting plans, safe in the knowledge that borderline plantings are well protected, but all this gardener wants to do is eat. Not just hearty stews and roasted potatoes, but more so late night bags of chips and “one more” handful of m&ms followed by a big glass of milk. Then some ice cream. Then maybe another look in the fridge, just in case. Outside just a few witch hazels are fenced, and not a single snowdrop is bucketed, but inside there’s been a lot of attention to sitting around and… eating….

Also safe inside are the plants too precious and too tender to abandon outside. They don’t do much all winter, but they’re something nice to look at while nibbling pretzels.

I can think of no better place to sit (while snacking) than the winter garden. When it’s dark out I can almost convince myself that this array of shoplights in the just-above-freezing back of the garage is actually a greenhouse or uber fancy conservatory. When the weather is cold it’s a room filled with green to hang out in, watering, puttering, pruning, plucking… doing all the stuff that the cold makes uncomfortable outdoors.

My official coffee drinking, seed cleaning, label writing, phone browsing, beer sampling, winter patio seat in the winter garden. I heard a crack last weekend and that’s got me slightly concerned about all the m&m’s, but that’s something to worry about in May.

There have been a few watershed moments in this year’s slightly excessive winter garden adventure. Ooops. I admitted that the winter garden is a little “extravagant”, but I blame it on last winter when I killed off a shameful amount of potted cyclamen. Cyclamen have been the stars of my winter garden for a few years, but then suddenly a winter of lazy, careless watering did in a bunch of them. This fall I needed backup plants. A visit to an open garden and a cutting swap started me off. The Amish country and various nurseries added a few more. Friends helped. Cuttings for overwintering added to it all. It’s all reaching a quite pleasant crescendo in my opinion.

Blue streptocarpella and flower buds on a red salvia. The salvia is being overwintered, and the buds should probably be clipped off… but I do like flowers 😉

Recently on Facebook a friend shared an article about the “dark side” of plant collecting. The home time and isolation of the pandemic had set unprepared gardeners off on a vicious binge of buying and collecting, and people were amassing hoards that amounted to hundreds of plants. “amateurs” my friend commented, and we laughed. I read the article myself and to be honest it made me smile to read about these plant collections and see the smiling faces of such happy gardeners. I think I might have missed the dark in it all.

A cool aloe which I couldn’t resist. ‘Snow Fox’ will join my other potted succulents next summer but for now just sits dry and mostly dormant on the dimmer end of the bench.

Just out of curiosity I counted pots in the winter garden. Normally anything under 6 inches doesn’t count, but this time I just went ahead and easily reached 150 pots back there. Hmmm. Then I took a few more cuttings and made it 152, just to slip a little further into the dark side.

This succulent comes in off the deck and spends the next three months flowering. I love it. Every little bit of leaf off the flower stems will try to root, so of course I made another pot of cuttings with those.

At least taking cuttings keeps my hands busy and out of the chip bag. I joke about not having the garden prepared, but at least my hoarding skills have me ‘winter gardening’ prepared. You can never have too many saved pots, and emergency bags of potting soil on hand. It’s awkward sneaking out into the frigid outdoor lot of the box store to try and wrestle a frozen bag of potting soil into your cart, so have it on hand in August so that you don’t have to make up some lame lie about ‘I don’t know, my wife told me she needed potting soil tonight’ when the cashier asks you what in the heck you’re doing. At least I can plan ahead in one area.

I’m quite pleased with how the cane begonia cuttings are doing. They’ll need bigger pots soon enough, but of course I’m prepared for that when the time comes.

Sometimes a rare ray of good fortune may shine upon you. A friend shocked me last year when she informed me they were officially downsizing and leaving their mature garden behind. “I think there will be a few things you’ll want” she said, and of course I agreed, but it was really all the accumulated trash like leftover pots and soil, bits of twine, scraps of fencing, pottery shards, opened bags of soil conditioners that I really wanted. Of course she knew that already. Only another gardener would want this stuff, and when I picked up a carload a few weeks ago I had to agree that I did want it.

More begonias and a cool Oxalis triangularis (maybe ‘Fanny’) which I was given a couple rhizomes of. I’m halfway tempted to pull out and plant a few of the purple leaved ones stored dormant under the shelf as companions to this one.

She gave me a box of terracotta pots which she may have never used. They’re small and there are a bunch of them and they’re much more trouble to move than lightweight plastic but I’m far more scared of them than I am of hundreds of hoarded houseplants because I really love them. What the *heck* is wrong with me that I’m staring at a box of clay pots thinking they’re so nice. I could understand if they were antique cloches for protecting delicate snowdrops during an ice storm, intricate wire topiary forms, but they’re stupid clay pots. I’m worried about what might happen if I start cruising garage and estate sales. I think I might buy every one I come across.

Clay pots and grandma’s geraniums. Cool people don’t seem to like pelargoniums but such a nice edging of variegation on the leaf, and the flowers are so delicate.

At least clay pots don’t have any calories… that I know of…. and so that must make a few too many of them a harmless distraction. As of today I only use them for succulents and a few potted bulbs, so even these are too many, but I really need more. A birthday is coming up. I wonder if putting ‘old, dirty terracotta pots’ on the birthday list could replace the usual underwear and socks?

Another aloe (‘Blue Elf’) with a few flower buds forming. I hope a lack of water and cool temps can keep them from developing too fast. Although I love winter blooms, I’d rather see them come up strong outside rather than spindly and weak in here.

So as usual I don’t really know how this post ended up where it has with underwear and socks. Let me try and re-focus with African violets. My mother used to grow them and so did my aunt. My grandmother grew them. They used to be Saintpaulia, but now I see they’re Streptocarpus sect. Saintpaulia and I’m not sure how that changed anything but I also know that about a year or so ago I needed to grow them again. I know these urges, I resisted. I almost made it but then cracked last fall and bought one and then I asked a friend for cuttings. I found online sources but only looked. I found one marked down. I guilted a spouse into buying me one at the grocery store after a few ‘admit it, you’re never going to wear that, I can’t buy you anything’ Christmas returns. I now have three violets plus two cuttings and I think I’m ok but then realized this afternoon I volunteered to stop at the store just because I thought they might have more. Hmmmm.

An African violet. This weekend will be cold and maybe I’ll take a cutting. I don’t need more but whatever.

African violets don’t have calories either. As far as I know adding another would be a victimless crime even if I’m lying to myself about picking up milk for the kids when I stumble across it. So what if I end up in a grocery store that’s 35 minutes away, it’s always good to shop around.

Have an excellent weekend, stay warm, and fuel that furnace responsibly… even if some of the fuel is chocolate, beer, and cheese 😉

Unbucketing Day

Feb26

Wow. What a difference two days can make. We’ve gone from winter to spring in just a few hours, and even though I won’t officially call spring until the last snow has melted, I’m practically spinning with spring fever over the thought I might see some more snowdrops unlocked from the ice this weekend.

If you’re not sick of seeing ‘Three Ships’ yet, well you might have some of the same issues I’m dealing with. He looks pristine even after weeks and weeks under a 5 gallon bucket.

In case you’re wondering, ‘Unbucketing Day’ is a relatively new holiday which I only just declared this afternoon. I’m sure there’s a more formal process to establishing new holidays, but I did have some cake this afternoon, and I’m pretty sure eating cake is at least steps one through four of the holiday creation process.

‘Potter’s Prelude’ has gone by a bit under his bucket. Even weeks of below freezing temperatures and a few feet of snow can’t stop the passage of time, since he has been in bloom for over three months now.

Fancier folk might call for an uncloching day to celebrate the day when temperatures seem civil enough to uncover these protected goodies, but I resort to buckets. Ugly buckets. I can understand the attraction of antique glass cloches sparkling throughout the garden but they don’t come cheap and I’m not sure anyone here would appreciate such an elevated level of refinement when autumn’s decaying gourds still sit on the front lawn and an old washing machine still highlights the far end of the front porch.

Even ‘Mrs Macnamara’ has tolerated her time under the bucket. This is the best she’s ever looked, but even with protection a few blooms were lost to cold, so I don’t think she’s an ideal match for my garden…

So join me in the celebration. A little warm weather and the snow can’t melt fast enough. There are a few thin spots where ground is showing but most of the garden is still under nearly a foot of icy, packed snow. It’s still enough to get into nearly every inappropriate pair of shoes I wear, since of course I slog through the snow right after work and don’t bother changing into better footwear first. I really just need to be more patient.

The witch hazel is late this year. ‘Pallida’ is only just today warm enough to uncurl the first bits of yellow thread. Hopefully by this weekend….

Who am I kidding? This is no time to be patient. I guarantee by tomorrow afternoon I’ll be shoveling snow off things, poking through mulch, and being far more nosy about my plant’s personal lives than I should be. I’ll probably even plant a few seeds!

Have a wonderful weekend 🙂

Happy Solstice

Dec22

It’s a rare day that snow pictures end up on this blog, but some people seem to be into this kind of stuff so I figured what the heck, they are kind of pretty, sort of like microscopic virus photos or the closeup of a horsefly’s eye… so here they are. As we enter the longest night of the year it’s a taste of cold sunshine from Saturday morning.

I love Pinus densiflora ‘Burke’s Red Variegated’. It’s supposed to resist winter browning, but here it is with some winter browning.

The polished buds of European beech surrounded by the russet glow of Panicum ‘Dallas Blues’ seedheads.

More Panicum virgatum ‘Dallas Blues’, a switch grass who’s bluish summer foliage is followed by a winter long reddish foliage which holds up fairly well to lighter snow loads and winter winds.

Silly rose it’s winter, and you’re deciduous.

We ended up with about a foot of snow. Faced with cyber school the kids didn’t even get a day off.

It’s been a good year for Amsonia hubrichtii. The yellow in autumn was better than ever and now there’s even some color left for the first few weeks of winter.

A gentle snowfall marks off the hedges and beds of the potager.

The bright sunshine and cold clear air brings sparkle to just about everything.

I had been itching to strimmer the stray weeds and wild asters on the berm, who would have thought the juncos would flock in to enjoy the tiny aster seedheads.

It’s always hit or miss as to how the Southern magnolia seedlings make it through the ups and downs of a NEPa winter.

Now it’s a slow wobble back to summer as the days again increase in length and the ground slowly soaks the heat back up. Eventually, towards the end of January, our average temperatures should start to rise again and if this winter is anything like the last couple a few witch hazels and winter aconite might dare open a flower or two. It’s a fun ride.

All the best for a nice, long and cozy solstice night 🙂

A Touch of Spring

Feb7

Early February is not spring but the plants don’t seem to know, and even if the weather has drifted cooler since these photos were taken, it’s still an unusually mild “winter”.

The first winter aconite (Eranthis hyemalis) have opened. These are a pale yellow version which is always a bit earlier than the straight species.

Although the days are getting noticeably longer we’re still just barely into the upswing of winter. It takes a while to shift from cooling to warming and these should still be some of the coldest days of the winter, but they’re not, and the weird season has some plants behaving oddly. Some are ahead, some are unconvinced, and others still think it’s fall.

Up and blooming earlier than ever, these giant snowdrops (Galanthus elwesii) are showing a bit of green on tips which have never shown green before. In 14 years of growing this one, I think I would have noticed.

In the end it’s out of my control so no sense in too much hand wringing. Saturday morning I threw on a sweatshirt, pulled out the hedge trimmers, chopped down and raked out the front bed, mowed it all up, threw it back on to the bed and called it ready to go for 2020. Spring cleanup before getting any advice from the groundhog is unprecedented but the spring bulbs do need a clean slate to show off against!

Not the neatest look, but by May it will look fine and I’m sure I’ll find plenty of other things to do now that spring cleanup here is complete!

It was a slow start. A head cold had me second guessing the work, and the weeks of couch sitting didn’t exactly have me feeling any younger, but it was nice to finally burn off a few Christmas cookies. That and there were snowdrops to enjoy 🙂

Galanthus ‘Godfrey Owen’ is usually up and blooming during our first warm spell. It’s a favorite of course.

So now begins the usual forecast watching which has me worrying about every ice storm and polar blast which could stomp these early joys. Fingers crossed it’s not the usual flower frying blast in March and instead is a gentle and gradual warming that encourages the most amazing show of spring bloom that we have ever experienced. One can hope. If all else fails I’d like just one sunny dry perfect day to enjoy the drops. Having it happen on a Saturday wouldn’t hurt either 😉

You Call That A Cleanup?

Jan27

So here we are in late January and winter still hasn’t put up much of a fight. I fought the urge last time and took the Christmas lights down instead, but this weekend’s rain and above freezing weather was too much and it broke me down. The snowdrops are coming up all over the front foundation beds and of course I need to see them clearly… plus the ski season stinks.

This is the after picture, and is probably as good as cleanup gets for this bed. The keenest eyes may spot a few snowdrops 🙂

I have a tendency to do my spring cleanups early but this winter you barely know if it’s a really late fall job or if this already qualifies as spring. Time will tell. One thing you can be sure of is that my need to tidy up every last stray leaf and twig has evaporated as I get older. Older and wiser maybe? The leaves disappear quickly as new sprouts come up and hide them, and they’re small enough that they break down into the soil again before summer is too far along. If they were bigger and tougher leaves like oak or sycamore I’d rake them off and run over them with the mower before throwing them back on the beds, but they’re not and that makes for a quick tidying up. The twigs and stems and cut back hellebore leaves were carted off to the back yard, I didn’t want to attract too much attention running them through the mower in January since I just recently made fun of my neighbor for doing the same.

Verbena bonariensis and lettuce seedlings, both surviving the cold just fine. It will be interesting to see what all makes it through the winter this year… assuming we don’t get slammed in March.

Maybe I’ll run all the trimmings through the mower in February. The ten day forecast shows a dip in to the teens and then another warming trend through Groundhog Day and beyond, so early February doesn’t look any more promising for snowy slopes than January was. I’ll try to cope 😉

Fake News!

Jan19

Spring arrived last week. There it was right in front of me, the thermometer was roaring to the top and everyone was thrilled by the high numbers. Records keep breaking and coats were thrown aside as ridiculously overcautious and we embraced the sun. Surely that weak, orange sun was the reason things were so warm.

Galanthus ‘Potters Pride’, typically in bloom for the end of November Thanksgiving table, has only now been coaxed out of the ground.

The neighborhood was bustling. Nearly everybody had a job as garages were swept and litter was cleared and the last of the holiday decorations were secured. It sure looked good. My brother in Law even pulled out the leaf blower and cleared all the riff-raff which had blown in while our backs were turned. Back into the woods it went, and a quick round with the lawnmower has everything returned to that bland, uniform, suburban look which all my neighbors seem to love.

Nothing like a freshly cut lawn in January. Mid January. In Northern Pennsylvania. For those who have let the 63F (17C) high get to our heads, our normal lows for this time of year should be closer to 17F (-8C).

The last three months have been filled with erratic ups and downs, but the ups are all we care about. I have snowdrops sprouting and in full bloom outside and it’s the middle of January and that must be good.

Galanthus ‘Three Ships’ up and blooming last week. Although ‘Three Ships’ hails from milder climates and is known for its Yuletide arrival, here in the colder zones it struggle to reach port by the end of January in a “normal” winter.

But in spite of the early sprouts and premature color something still feels wrong. The sun keeps claiming it’s perfect, and he deserves all the credit for this unusual warmth but most everyone else can see it’s near the lowest point of its year. I wish my plants would check this out, but no they just keep fixating on these temperature numbers. Who cares about tomorrow.

The first of the witch hazels to open here is Hamamelis ‘pallida’. Full bloom and it’s about a month early.

Oh well. When it gets cold I’ll just shelter in place and ride it out. As usual the weather will take out the most vulnerable and either kill them outright or set them back for a few years, but it happens and in spite of warnings the plants never learn.

I’ll protect my favorites though. Some plants just agree with everything I do and even if I’m the most incompetent gardener they always make me either feel good or look like I’m winning. Right now with colder weather and snow briefly returning it’s the winter garden that’s got all the good stuff.

The Cyclamen coum growing under lights are starting their show. Hardy enough to survive outdoors I just like keeping a few inside to enjoy.

My winter garden in the garage is a nice escape from the real world. Under the fluorescent shop lights I have a few plants pretending they’re not part of this Pennsylvania garden and also a few that are just too tender to make it on their own. This year’s wunderkind is the pot of galanthus seedlings I have coming up. A friend gave me the seed last winter and although a few sprouted then, the bulk have waited until now to start coming up. Realistically they would be better off in the garden, but here I can admire them endlessly and imagine the hundreds of blooms which are sure to follow… in three or four years… assuming I don’t kill them… just like I’ve killed all the others…

Snowdrop seedlings. They still have a long way to go but just think of the possibilities!

I’ve been off my seed-starting kick for a few years now but stuff like this is still irresistible. There’s so much variability in these seed grown bulbs that I’m excited just thinking about what could be. I guess that’s what optimism looks like when the nights are still so long, since there’s still bound to be a three year wait at least. In the meantime three years can pass quickly, and three years ago I started some narcissus seed, and three years later I have a bloom!

Some type of hoop petticoat daffodil. The seed were labeled as narcissus romieuxii something-something but they’re not the pale yellow I was expecting, so I’m not committing to a full name yet.

Non-hardy daffodils growing under lights is practically a gateway drug to greenhouse thoughts, so fortunately I don’t have much access to more seed but in these unsettled times you never know. An offer for more seeds would be much better news than what usually shows up.

In the meantime this winter could end up anywhere. History shows that these fake warmups always end up badly but maybe I should just hide out in the winter garden and hope for the best. Maybe this time we’ll only get the tornado rather than the tornado, hail and lightning storm.

December Arrives

Dec1

A stroll in the garden last Thursday reveled only one thing. It’s boring. Boring is probably not the worst thing since there have been tours which brought on anger, apathy, or disgust, but the tour did not bring on wonder or excitement, and for me that daily change or new surprise is what makes the yard so interesting.

The hardy cyclamen (this one is Cyclamen hederifolium) is pretty exciting now that the foliage is up, but I’ve seen it all before, and should really give a few of the cool new seedlings some room to develop.

I suppose I could find something to do and give the garden a scorched earth cleanup, rounding up every stray leaf and eliminating every dead and dried stalk, but that’s even more boring. The birds will need something to pick through, and in January a few old seedheads holding the snow will give a little more interest to otherwise dull drifts. So instead I cut and placed a few chicken wire cages to protect the most treasured shrubs from their annual bunny shearing.

Previously the rabbits around here were as lazy as I am, and if they had to even push aside a tuft of grass to get to a carrot they wouldn’t bother. But now they’ve become empowered, and I have to protect things like this ‘Diane’ witch hazel with these attractive wire cages.

My friend Kathy was right. Deer may not like witch hazels, but bunnies do, and if you’re thinking good for me to put this protection in place before any real damage occurs, you’re being excessively optimistic in regards to my laziness. The new witch hazels should have been caged up weeks ago as more tender things in the garden dried up, but no, it wasn’t until the first one was nipped off at four inches that I figured it was time. Fast forward another week when the second hazel was nipped to the ground that I finally got moving.

One last succulent has earned its right to a winter spent inside. After Echeveria runyonii ‘Topsy Turvy’ survived a few heavy frosts and downright freezes I could no longer turn my back on the pot and into the garage it came. I wonder just how hardy this thing really is?

I actually did find one bit of excitement while planting some not-really-wanted colchicums (they were supposed to be white… not pink). The excitement wasn’t the tulip bulbs I sliced through when digging a hole, the excitement was a stray snowdrop in full bloom in a spot where I’ve only ever planted spring varieties.

A November snowdrop. Two years after planting bulk Galanthus elwesii here, this one decides to beat the neighbors and open a few months and a whole season early. I’ll be curious to see what it thinks next year.

Not to end on a down note, but this little November snowdrop is now encased (hopefully not entombed) in ice just waiting for the first larger snowfall of the season to happen. I’d show pictures but would prefer to keep this a family friendly blog and will instead show a photo from the Thanksgiving trip which the impending storm cut short.

Deer along the beach of the Long Island Sound. The wide open blue skies of the beach always recharge my outdoor batteries in a way the woodsy mountains and valleys of Pennsylvania don’t.

Things can’t be all that bad when you’re cozy inside and the weather happens on the other side of the window, so I can’t complain, but what ever storms come your way I hope they’re easy on your neck of the woods, and even if they’re snowy, I hope you have a great week!

Happy Post-Solstice

Jan26

A few years ago I was introduced to an excellent new holiday. Maybe holiday is a bit strong but January’s a pretty dull month and coming off of a three day warming spell has me optimistic that winter might not go on forever… even if it does feel that way most of the time.

I first heard about ‘Post-Solstice’ over at the always inspiring macgardens.org, and it’s described as that unofficial point where the earth has tilted back towards the sun just enough to start warming this hemisphere back up again. It takes a while to get things moving on this big old planet of ours, and although December 21st was the shortest day with the least amount of solar warmth hitting the Northern half, it’s not until one month later around January 21st that we start turning the tide back to warmer days. To help with the celebrations this year there was a special treat. The first snowdrop is up, popping out just hours after the rain melted the last snow and ice away from this spot.

A surprise in our January thaw, the first of this winter’s snowdrops. Galanthus ‘Three Ships’ in case you’re wondering.

A lone snowdrop doesn’t make spring, and I’m sure I’ll be out there covering it up during the next arctic blast, but for now it sure does give a little bit of hope. There are other sprouts as well but I’ll only bore you with one more photo.

More snowdrops showing signs of life. I wish I could say the same for the winter-burned hellebore foliage but I’ve long given up on worrying about things like that.

It’s nice to see things as anxious as I am to start the new gardening year. We have already added just over thirty minutes of daylight to each day and that goes higher with every sunset and before we know it the whole adventure will start anew!

Enjoy your weekend 🙂

That Wasn’t Smart 8.0

Dec8

In hindsight this is the time of year when winter interest should take center stage, and the addition of conifers to the winter garden is probably the best way to keep the yard attractive during the bleakest of winter months. I’ve heard that and have seen it in print as well, and even the most reluctant gardener will throw a few evergreens around the house as the first step in crafting an attractive landscape. The message is out, and the majority of houses around here have a sensible foundation planting filled with neatly trimmed yews and junipers and whatever else can snuggle up to the house for year round appeal.

Our own slightly less neat foundation plantings, with respectable holly, juniper, and chamaecyparis plantings lined up along the foundation.

Why this gardener would chose December to remove a large juniper from a prominent front-of-the-house location is foolish enough, but to replace it with a small ninebark (Physocarpus opulifolius ‘Amber Jubilee) is over into the not so smart category. Reliable evergreen replaced with small clump of deciduous twigs… maybe you can understand that ‘uh-oh’ feeling I had as I stood there holding the saw and staring at a pile of juniper branches.

If you look closely you might be able to see the newest addition to this foundation planting. It’s right there at the center of the gaping hole which was created when the juniper was removed.

In all honesty I never liked the juniper. It made me itch and bored me and even though there were a thousand better things which I could be doing I suddenly needed to plant that ninebark at that minute even though I was right in the middle of putting up the Christmas lights. As long as we’re opening up here, the Christmas lights were turning into a whole other project in themselves.

A Longwood inspired twig archway with lights. Lots of lights.

The reason I had the saw out in the first place was because I needed to take a walk in the woods and cut down and drag back enough birch trees to make a decent arch leading onto the porch. I’m pretty sure a twig archway was what our holiday decorations have been lacking.

Speaking of things lacking, this blog has been lacking a snowdrop photo for months and since so many of you have been asking how the snowdrops are doing I guess it’s time to jump back into that world. Here’s a batch of fall bloomers which my friend Paula shared with me a couple years ago. They’re out on the driveway for this photo but have since moved into the garage in anticipation for the approaching cold… lows for next week show numbers around 10F (-12C) and that’s just not appropriate for such an innocent little flower… or for the box of tulip bulbs which just showed up on the doorstep this afternoon.

Fall blooming giant snowdrops (Galanthus elwesii) with a nice green pattern to the inners.

If pushed I’d have to admit that no one has actually asked about the snowdrops, but I’m sure they were wondering and I didn’t want to rudely ignore that.

Now I’m off to check out something I can’t even ignore for a minute. Pamela at Pam’s English Garden has put up the post detailing her own recent visit to Longwood Gardens. I knew she was there within a few days of my own visit and I’ve been looking forward to seeing her own impressions of the decorations. I hope she doesn’t point out a bunch of cool things which I missed!

sorta like suburbia

more than you ever wanted to know about my garden

Tag Archives: winter