The Hortiholic

Tillandsia -- Out of Thin Air

noreply@blogger.com (Karen Geisler) — Tue, 24 Jan 2012 18:27:00 +0000

T. bulbosa belize

They looked like something straight out of the movie Avatar, with their colored leaves and strange flowers. And after the first snowfall this winter, they promised to provide a welcome touch of the tropics.

So I decided to try air plants, or tillandsias, again. I had killed the first ones I bought several years ago so this time around I did a little more research. Turns out they have a fascinating background.

Tillandsias originally were thought to be related to mistletoe as both grow on trees. Air plants, however, aren’t parasites the way mistletoe is. Their roots are only used to anchor the plant. They pull their moisture and nutrients from the air through their leaves, not the host.

They actually belong to the bromeliad, or pineapple, family. The name covers more than 500 different species, mostly in Central and South America. It includes the Spanish moss that hangs on trees in the southern U.S.

T. ionantha van hyningii

The category or genus was established in 1753 by Sweden’s Carl Linnaeus, who set up the current system of botanic nomenclature.

It honors Finnish botanist Elias Tillands (1640-1693) who got so seasick going the eight miles by boat from Sweden to Finland that he traveled 200 miles by land on the way back. Not surprisingly, Linnaeus chose a plant that can not bear to stay wet.

Air plants do need moisture, of course. They just don’t need roots to do it. In fact, putting an air plant in soil is a sure fire way to kill it.

On the other hand, misting alone isn't enough. That's what I had done the first time and unfortunately it's still recommended by several Websites. These plants need to be immersed in water, shaken to remove any excess water and then allowed to dry thoroughly.

Exactly how often they need a drink and how long seems to be (excuse the pun) up in the air.

Some sites say once a week is sufficient while others say two or three times. Some recommend you only dunk it for a short while. Others specify an hour or even longer, especially if you’re going on vacation or the plant looks particularly dehydrated.

It seems to depend on the exact variety of air plant you have, with some varieties needing more than others. Guess that makes sense. The same goes for plants in my garden, at least when there isn’t five inches of snow on the ground.

There is agreement that air plants need lots of bright indirect light. So I’m putting them on a table next to a window that opens onto my westward-facing porch. I'm still looking for some way to supplement the paltry sunlight available this time of year.

T. aeranthos clavelles

Other than that, care seems to be pretty easy. Avoid distilled water. Fertilize once a month using either a special bromeliad mixture or an orchid fertilizer at one-quarter strength.

I’m planning to try various ways of displaying my new air plants. For now, they are in some very small pots, with their leaves suspending them in midair. It still seems strange having plants with no visible means of support, that can get what they need out of thin air to produce such beautiful blooms.

There is one sad note – the flowers mean these plants are in their final stages of life. I’m hoping they will produce babies or “pups” at their base before they die. Those plants should then mature and produce "pups" of their own. Sort of a “circle of life” thing. Not unlike Avatar. Or was that another movie?

Organizing the garden

noreply@blogger.com (Karen Geisler) — Wed, 11 Jan 2012 17:36:00 +0000

My collection of plant tags

I started out with the best of intentions. All I wanted to do is organize my gardening information in one place. Now, I’m back where I started.

For the past five years, I’ve been saving every plant tag, receipt and invoice with plans to eventually set up a spreadsheet or start a garden journal. That has never happened though. Just too many plants, too little time.

With the New Year, though, I resolved to make a fresh start. I would take my bulging file folder with all that information and turn it into something useful. Surely there was a ready-made solution out there for me. I checked out several possibilities: bound journals, three-ring binder systems, computer software and on-line garden tracking services.

None of these turned out to be exactly what I wanted. Most were strong in some areas but weak in others. Many were pricey and/or not that user friendly. And the idea of spending even more time at the computer keyboard than I already do just wasn’t that appealing.

I'm a bit discouraged but a garden organizer still sounds like a good winter project. How else can I track which plants I have in my garden, especially when those baby bunnies nibble on my perennial geraniums? (Let's see. Was that a Rozanne or Johnson’s Blue?)

I’d also like to track bloom times, bulb locations, fertilization, pruning, pests and soil analysis/amendments. A “to do” list and a plant “wish list” would be nice as well.

So I’m now in the process of using Microsoft Word and Excel to create pages like those I found online.

If you're interested, check out the garden journal templates at gardensandcrafts.com and Hobby Farm. Other templates on the Web include Homestead Garden, Gardening Quick n Easy and Northern Gardening. The University of Illinois Extension has an especially nice garden journal page for kids. If you're a seed starter or vegetable gardener, there's Arbico Organics and Blue Boardwalk.

Wish me luck. If I get really ambitious, I may splurge on a customized three-ring binder. It all depends on how far I get before the first plants emerge this spring.

After that, all bets are off.

A Christmas card

noreply@blogger.com (Karen Geisler) — Wed, 21 Dec 2011 15:16:00 +0000

May you be surrounded by

those you love this holiday season

and find peace and joy in your garden

during the coming New Year

Please feel free to copy the photo above and paste it into any emails you send to your friends. It may not show up in the body of the message, but as an attachment, depending on your email program. Try it! (We’ve given the copyright police a week off for the holidays.)

Stay safe and warm!

(Note: The wreath above started out as just plain spruce. I added variegated arborvitae, variegated holly, seeded eucalyptus, pine cones with glitter and a big red bow.)

A Frosty Morning

noreply@blogger.com (Karen Geisler) — Mon, 19 Dec 2011 01:10:00 +0000

Jack Frost visited my garden last night. I was beginning to worry that he had forgotten all about me. It’s already mid-December and I haven’t seen any sign of him. Until now, that is.

When I awoke this morning, the white pine in my back border looked as if it had been flocked like an indoor Christmas tree. In fact all of the evergreens had been touched with Jack's frosty brush.

Jack didn't play favorites, though. Oh no. He spread his magic around the garden, from the tallest tree....

...to the perennials...

...and the grasses as well.

But Jack's magic didn't last long. By midday, the sun had melted all traces of his visit much to my dismay. Here’s hoping you come back soon, Jack. The garden is waiting.

A Gardener's Night Before Christmas

noreply@blogger.com (Karen Geisler) — Mon, 12 Dec 2011 14:54:00 +0000

Twas the night before Christmas and all through the yard,

Not a plant was left standing, the ground it was hard.

The tools were all hung in the garage with care

A well deserved rest now that the garden was bare.

The bulbs were nestled all snug in their beds,

While visions of springtime danced in their heads,

I in my Snuggie, my husband with our cat

Had just settled in for a long winter’s chat.

When out in the hydrangeas there arose such a clatter,

I dropped my seed catalogs to see what was the matter.

Away to the front door I quickly dashed,

Half expecting to find my yard had been trashed.

When I opened the door, it was suddenly clear.

Here was a sleigh and eight tiny reindeer

With a little old gardener so lively and quick

I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick!

More quickly than crabgrass his coursers they came

And he whistled and shouted and called them by name.

“Now Holly! Now Ivy! Now Daisy and Rue!

On Rose, On Petunia, Fern and Lily too!

To the top of the trellis! To the top of the wall!

Now dash away, dash away, dash away all!”

So up to the housetop the reindeer they flew

With a sleighful of gifts and St. Nicholas too.

I closed the front door and was turning around

When he slid down the chimney, hitting the ground.

He was dressed all in red, with Wellies on his feet,

And a poinsettia on his cap made him look really neat.

He stood up quite quickly and went straight to his work

With a composter for Cathy, a Dutch weeder for Dirk.

There were asters for Ann, a pine tree for Paul

And a garden design book for use by us all.

Next came a rain barrel. This was for Rob.

And finally, for me, a ginkgo key fob.

Then laying a trowel aside of his nose

And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.

He ran to his sleigh and gave a quick whistle

And away they all flew like the seeds of globe thistle.

But I heard him exclaim as he drove out of sight,

“Merry Christmas to all gardeners and to all a good night.”

(With apologies to Clement Clark Moore)

Holiday greens

noreply@blogger.com (Karen Geisler) — Fri, 09 Dec 2011 22:01:00 +0000

This was done by a professional but you can (and should) try this at home.

Nothing says Christmas to me like fresh evergreens. Having them in a pot near the front door or putting a fresh wreath on the front door provides great color, great texture and a heavenly scent.

I’m no Martha Stewart, but I love decorating a front door wreath differently each year. I’ll add a plaid ribbon bow one year and a shiny red one the next. My holiday pots also vary from year to year. It’s a good creative outlet once the garden has gone to sleep for the winter.

Incense cedar

Variegated arborvitae

Some people, of course, prefer artificial trees, wreaths and other greens. I realize this works better for some people inside the house, especially those with allergies. But putting artificial greenery outside, not too far from real evergreens in my entryway garden, somehow just doesn’t seem right to me. To each their own, though.

I started out just using the trimmings from the bottom of our Christmas tree. In recent years, I’ve graduated to a mixture of greens including cedar, incense cedar, variegated arborvitae, blueberry juniper, white pine, Noble fir and/or Douglas fir. (One of my friends insists the latter smells like whiskey!) Each type has its own unique texture.

Winterberries

There’s also a whole host of materials that can add color and texture. These include pine cones, lotus pods, holly, variegated holly, huckleberry (with lovely red tones), eucalyptus, seeded eucalyptus, pepperberries, canella berries, holly berries and even the white tallowberry..

Variegated holly

To add height, you can use curly willow, pussywillows and the wonderfully contorted fantail willow. Plus there's always an old standby -- red dogwood twigs.

Be sure to use plastic pots, either on their own or as a liner. Clay pots can break if the soil in them freezes.

There are a few tricks to using fresh evergreens. Mash the ends of the woody stems as this allows the branches to draw in more water. Then soak the branches overnight in a bucket or other container filled with water. Arrange. Spray with an antidesiccant if the pot will be in an exposed or sunny area.

The final result should carry you into January and possibly beyond. The pots on my covered porch typically last into February, depending on the weather.

I hope you’ll trying using some fresh evergreens on or near your front door this year. It will make your entry uniquely yours.

Happy Holidays!

Gifts for Gardeners

noreply@blogger.com (Karen Geisler) — Wed, 30 Nov 2011 18:09:00 +0000

If your family is already pestering you for holiday gift ideas, join the club.

Non-gardeners always seem to be stumped when it comes to their gardening friends and relatives. I can't begin to count the number of times I’ve gotten garden gloves that are two sizes too big or cheap pruners that fall apart after only a few uses.

So here, in no particular order, are a few Christmas ideas you can leave lying around on a table where your loved ones will see it. Here’s hoping they take the hint!

Christmas tree ornaments: These are fun, especially those in the shapes of flowers, birds and butterflies. You can also find fruits, vegetables, hand tools, watering cans, wheelbarrows and even garden sheds. It all depends on what your gardener is into.

Really good tools: These can last a lifetime if taken care of properly. They also are the perfect gifts as they are not something most gardeners would buy for themselves. (I’d much rather spend my money on plants, but that’s why I’m a hortiholic.) For lefties only: Pruners and hand weeders specifically for left-handed people are hard to come by and very much appreciated. As a leftie myself, I know.

Hand cream: For those gardeners who either don’t like using gloves or prefer to use their hands. Dirt is really drying! And if they don’t use gloves, it’s a good bet they’ll also need a good nail scrub brush.

Birdhouses: What is a garden without some wildlife, especially birds? Every garden needs at least one birdhouse.

Gnomes: Okay, these aren’t for everyone. But there are some really cute ones out there, and I don’t just mean the Roaming Gnome either.

Memberships: To either the Chicago Botanic Garden or the Morton Arboretum if your gardener doesn't already have one. This is a gift that will keep on giving the entire year.

Garden books: These are great way to keep that gardening spark alive during the long, cold, snowy winter months. It’s hard to go wrong with a garden book, even if it’s mostly pictures. A few suggestions follow. All were published in the past year and have received good reviews. I haven’t read all of them, but have browsed most of them.

“Gardening for a Lifetime: How to Garden Wiser as You Grow Older,” by Sydney Eddison. We’re all getting older and she has some good suggestions on how to keep the garden looking good.

“Contemporary Color in the Landscape: Top Designers, Inspiring Ideas, New Combinations,” by Andrew Wilson. Absolutely gorgeous photos!

“The Artful Garden: Creative Inspiration for Landscape Design” by James van Sweden and Tom Christopher. Van Sweden designed Evening Island and several other projects at the Chicago Botanic Garden.

“Landscapes in Landscapes,” by Piet Oudolf and Noel Kingsbury. Latest book from Dutch plantsman Oudolf, who designed the Lurie Garden at Chicago’s Millennium Park.

“Designing with Conifers: The Best Choices for Year-Round Interest in Your Garden,” by Richard Bitner. For those who want to move beyond yews and arborvitae in the home landscape.

“Wicked Bugs: The Louse that Conquered Napoleon’s Army and Other Diabolical Insects,” by Amy Stewart, who also wrote "Wicked Plants." Not for the squeamish.

“Continuous Container Gardens: Swap in the Plants of the Season to Create Fresh Designs,” by Sara Begg Townsend and Roanne Robbins. How to keep your container looking good throughout the year.

“Garden Up! Smart Vertical Gardening for Small and Large Spaces,” by Susan Morrison and Rebecca Sweet. Arbors, trellises, living walls and other vertical options. Especially good for urban gardeners.

“Tomorrow’s Garden: Design and Inspiration for a New Age of Sustainable Gardening,” by Stephen Orr.

“Founding Gardeners,” by Andrea Wulf. For those who love gardening as well as politics and/or early American history. Most of our Founding Fathers were gardeners as well as farmers. They spent a lot of time thinking about the fledgling nation’s native plant life as well as compost. (See July blog).

“The Bad Tempered Gardener,” by Anne Wareham. This is written by someone who loves gardens, but hates gardening, which she claims is akin to doing housework outside. She’s witty, irreverent and always entertaining.

Gift certificates: If all else fails, get a gift certificate at your gardener’s favorite nursery. It’s sure to be used up quickly.

Here's hoping your holiday shopping goes smoothly!

A Look Back

noreply@blogger.com (Karen Geisler) — Tue, 15 Nov 2011 16:17:00 +0000

Fall is a great time to review and plan next year's garden

It’s time to hang up that trowel, make yourself a cup of tea and review this year’s garden. Here’s a quick quiz.

My garden was:

a) Awesome! I wouldn’t change a thing.

b) Good, although I lost some plants during those 100-degree days.

c) Okay. There are some sections I need to rework next spring.

d) Well, there’s always next year.

If you’re like most gardeners, you probably checked b) or c). After all, a garden is constantly changing. Trees and shrubs grow larger. Some plants turn out to be too aggressive. Others just don’t make it or aren’t thriving in their current location. Maybe your tastes have changed and that old design just won’t do.

Regardless of the reason, fall is a great time to review because you can still remember this past year fairly accurately. It’s a lot harder in the spring when several months of snow and cold have caused “gardener’s amnesia.”

So what worked? What didn’t? Need more color in the spring? Summer? Fall?

Make a to-do list. I'm still working on mine, which will be a long one this time around. The trees I put in five years ago are starting to create shade and some shrubs need to be moved as a result. Several of my ornamental grasses have reached their mature size and need to be divided. I’ve expanded a few beds. Plus I’m always on a quest to better balance the bloom in my borders.

For some reason I still don’t understand, my front yard looks best in mid- to late summer, while the back yard peaks in spring and early summer. Maybe it’s because I really enjoy looking out at all my spring bulbs in the back yard from my kitchen table after a long winter. And they are always too long.

This year, I’m also trying something new. I’m taking pictures of the sections that need work, printing them out on plain paper in black and white and making notes in bold black marker. Sort of a visual version of a to-do list. I’m hoping that will inspire me to get into the garden earlier and organize my time better.

Of course, there always will be the usual spring transplanting/moving which my husband refers to as “rearranging the furniture.” He didn’t understand until I put it in terms that he, as a roller coaster enthusiast, could understand.

“It’s like Disneyland,” I said, jokingly. “It will never be done.”

The Final Fall Bouquet

noreply@blogger.com (Karen Geisler) — Mon, 07 Nov 2011 00:06:00 +0000

From the fall garden

The frost is on the pumpkin and the last blooms of summer have faded. You still have time, though, to bring a little bit of the garden inside. Use dried flowers, ornamental grasses, colorful leaves and seed heads from your border to make a long-lasting bouquet.

Hydrangeas, of course, are the most obvious choice. These work best if you plan ahead. Cut them in September, strip off most of the leaves and put them in a vase. Add water once and only once. Let the water evaporate and the flower will dry out slowly. If your hydrangeas are still on the shrub, don't despair. These will be a bit more brown, but they can still be used.

Ornamental grasses also are a must-have. While almost any variety will do, I'm especially partial to switch grass (panicum virgatum) because of its light and airy seed heads plus the thin narrow leaves. Prairie dropseed (sporobolis heterolepsis) also is a good option.

Other than that, let your imagination run wild. Anything that you might cut as part of a fall clean up is a possibility. In the bouquet shown above, I've used stems of cone flowers, sedum, ornamental oregano, perennial geraniums, panicum, veronicastrum and Queen Anne's lace as well as leaves from spireas, maples and abelias. Other candidates that may be in your garden include rose hips, black-eyed Susans, yarrow, clematis and grapevines.

Once the colorful foliage fades, consider replacing it with lotus pods, curly willow, bittersweet vine or even floral picks with some fresh flowers in them. Ribbons or raffia tied around the container can dress it up when company comes.

Don't fuss over the arrangement too much, though. The purpose of a fall bouquet is to celebrate this past year's garden. Enjoy!

(If you want to see where the phrase "the frost is on the pumpkin" originated, click here.)

Weird, Wacky & Warty

noreply@blogger.com (Karen Geisler) — Wed, 19 Oct 2011 16:27:00 +0000

Pumpkins don't just come in plain orange any more

They’re weird. They're wacky. They’re warty. And they’re all the rage for Halloween.

Unusual pumpkins in a variety of colors and shapes can create a collection worthy of the most ghoulish ghosts and goblins. With names like Red Warty Thing, One Too Many, Peanut and Full Moon, there’s sure to be one that fits your fear factor.

That’s especially true in Illinois, the nation’s largest pumpkin-producing state. It grew more than 40 percent of last year’s crop, twice that of its nearest competitor.

This year was especially difficult for pumpkins in many states because of drought conditions and Hurricane Irene. For a while, it was even touch and go locally.

“Every time we planted, we got two to three inches of rain,” said Kevin Heap of Heap’s Giant Pumpkin Farm in Minooka. The third planting finally took, he said. Then came this summer’s extreme heat, which put the plants under a lot of stress.

Heap said many of his giant pumpkin varieties, which can reach 500 pounds, didn’t get quite as big as they usually do as a result.

“The rains in August and early September really helped a lot of things,” said Heap, who grows about 30 acres of pumpkins annually. “I got a lot better crop than I had expected.”

George White of Country Bumpkin in Mundelein had a similar experience.

“It was really a roller coaster ride,” he said. “The pumpkins did ripen a bit early but the night temperatures have been mild so there haven’t been any problems locally,” he added.

More and more unusual pumpkins are being grown every year. Most people use them whole, without carving, as a way to add color and texture to their traditional Jack-o’-lanterns. If you do want to carve one of the wartier pumpkins, though, be careful. Their skin is tougher than you might think.

“It’s tough but do-able,” White said.

When asked if they had a favorite pumpkin, both men were diplomatic. “I really don’t have a favorite,” Heap said, although he does have a bit of a soft spot for Knuckleheads. “They’re all special to me,” White noted.

For the record, all of the unusual pumpkins are edible, although some are better than others.

If you’re perplexed about these peculiar pumpkins, don’t panic. Below is a primer to help you pick out the perfect pumpkins for your porch this Halloween. Enjoy!

Cinderella
This reddish orange French heirloom
pumpkin is also known as Rouge Vi
D'Etampes. Thought to be the inspiration
for the coach in the popular fairy tale.

Full Moon
New. The biggest white pumpkin. Especially
striking with black stenciling on it.

Green Warty Thing
A variation of Italy's Marina di Chioggia.
Blue-gray and very warty. Soon to be
a classic.

Knucklehead
The warts on this pumpkin change color
after the skin, often resulting in green
warts. Particularly scary.

One Too Many
Looks like a bloodshot eyeball. Orange
stripes and speckles on a cream background.

Peanut
Pinkish-salmon with tan peanut-like warts.
It's a French heirloom named Galeux
d'Eysines. And yes, it's real.

Queen Anne's Lace
This blue-gray pumpkin is a more elegant
version of Australia's Jarrahdale. Its bottom
is sloped, like an upside down pyramid.

Red Warty Thing
Exceptionally bumpy. This new red-orange
variety is a cross between a Red Hubbard
squash and an unknown pumpkin.

Speckled Hound
Orange with blue-green splotches. This is
technically a winter squash but passes
for a pumpkin.

A Tough Nut to Crack

noreply@blogger.com (Karen Geisler) — Fri, 07 Oct 2011 18:11:00 +0000

The American black walnut tree

For anyone with black walnut trees, fall can be summed up in three words – duck and cover.

Sit or stand below one of these trees and you can be bombarded. Sometimes by nuts randomly dropping off the tree, but more often by the squirrels. They nibble at the hulls surrounding the walnuts and then drop them as they skitter away, chattering all the while.

Actually, I think they save up their “leftovers” during the day to use when hapless victims pass underneath. At least it seemed that way when I had two black walnuts in my back yard and a third one that stretched over the fence from one of my neighbors.

Black walnuts on the ground

We hadn’t realized that the mature trees in the back yard were black walnuts when we bought the property and built a deck. It took only one party before we threw in the towel on fall entertaining.

The back yard had been quiet all afternoon.When the guests arrived, though, the walnuts rained down on the only person wearing a very white shirt. As anyone who’s been hit by a walnut hull knows, the resulting brown stains don’t come out. Ever.

These black walnuts were majestic trees that must have been about 100 years old. They were late to leaf out in the spring, allowing plenty of time for bulbs to bloom and recharge. They provided great shade in the afternoon which helped keep the house cool.

I also felt somewhat of an obligation to keep them since they were among the last walnuts in theWalnut Grove Rearrangement. There were times when I thought about it, though, given all the problems growing plants under their canopy.

The American black walnut (juglans nigra) emits a chemical with a distinctive smell called juglone. It instantly kills roses and tomatoes. It's also toxic to horses and possibly dogs.

Not all plants die. Many just didn’t thrive. I found several lists of juglone-tolerant plants but ended up more confused than ever. Each list was different.

One list said peonies wouldn’t work but I had a lot of peonies at the base of my tallest walnut tree. In fact, they had grown under a chain link fence from my neighbor’s property. The old-fashioned version of Jacob’s ladder (polemonium) did well, as most lists suggested. A cultivar with variegated leaves died after a month.

My planting style became one of trial and error. I’d buy one plant. If it survived, I bought two more. I learned that wild flowers, leopard’s bane, spiderwort, hostas, astilbes and toad lilies were my friends. In fact, the older the variety and more vigorous it was, the better the plant seemed to do.

Black walnut leaves

At times, it was hard to determine whether juglone or shade was the reason why a plant didn’t do well.

Don’t count on using your walnut crop as food unless you’re willing to do some major work. The hulls are so caustic that you need solvent-proof gloves to handle them. The shells are hard to crack. It's a lot easier to just buy walnuts at the grocery store.

Whatever you do, don’t call a tree service and ask them to cut down a walnut tree for free. Although walnut is an expensive wood, they will only laugh. They generally need an entire grove to make it worth their while and most urban trees aren't suitable.

Walnuts don’t reliably produce a crop until they are 30 to 50 years old, making them very big and very expensive to take down at that point. Also, some years the walnut crop is very light. We tried, but during the 15 years we lived there, we never were able to determine why some crops were heavier than others.

Even if you cut the tree down, juglone remains in the soil for a long, long time. One of my neighbors, a major rose fancier, unfortunately found this out after moving in and cutting down her walnut tree. All of her roses instantly bit the dust. Their replacements a few years later also died.

In my book, it’s definitely better to learn to live with walnuts. Focus on the other three seasons. Try wildflowers. Whatever you do, don’t give up. Black walnuts can be a tough nut to crack but you can still have a beautiful yard.

The Colors of Fall

noreply@blogger.com (Karen Geisler) — Mon, 03 Oct 2011 18:51:00 +0000

Fall is here at last! I love the reds, golds, oranges and purples this time of year. Every autumn I vow to put more color in my garden. I’m not there yet, but I’ll keep trying.

There are lots of options beside the burning bushes (euonymus alatus) that so many people have. I especially love smoke bush (cotinus coggygria), oak leaf hydrangeas and some of the viburnums. Of course, you have to have some sedums and mums as well, just to liven things up.

Here are some photos I hope will inspire you. Enjoy!

Golden Spirit smokebush

Alice oak leaf hydrangea

Prairie Flame shining sumac

Limelight hydrangea

Bloodgood Japanese maple

Autumn Blaze maple

Ribbit, ribbit

noreply@blogger.com (Karen Geisler) — Mon, 26 Sep 2011 21:02:00 +0000

The 'Samuri' Toad Lily has variegated leaves

The name “toad lily” may sound like an oxymoron. But this is one toad you don’t have to kiss to get a princely flower.

Its exotic blooms, often a combination of purple and cream, resemble miniature orchids. They also provide wonderful color in the shade garden this time of year when few other perennials are blossoming.

These Asian natives have been in cultivation for quite a while. They were discovered in Japan in 1784 and have been grown in this country since the 1890s. It was only after the Chicago Botanic Garden published a 10-year evaluation of the plant in 2001, however, that toad lilies started becoming more widely available.

Toad lilies, or tricyrtis, require at least part shade and a soil that is consistently moist and fertile. They keep on blooming for a long time, often until a hard frost, and spread by underground rhizomes. Its arching stems will form a "colony” over time.

If you're a worry wart, they are very reliable. Toad lilies are slow to wake up in the spring like many other late bloomers so be patient. And because their flowers are so intricate, you need to put them near a bench or a path where you can admire them up close and personal.

Exactly how toad lilies got their common name is unclear. The blooms are spotted, not unlike a toad. The plants like moisture, unlike some other lilies. Search the Internet and many articles say that early hunters used to smear it on their hands to help them catch toads. Some sites even link the name to a fictitious tribe in the Philippines during the days of dictator Ferdinand Marcos and his shoe-loving wife Imelda (!?)

Wherever its common name came from, be sure to jump on this plant for some fall color. I promise it won't give you warts.
(Photo by Lynn Dipple)

From Soup to Nuts

noreply@blogger.com (Karen Geisler) — Fri, 16 Sep 2011 19:45:00 +0000

Now Cheesier echinacea

Have you ever noticed how many of the newer perennials have food-inspired names?

Several of the latest coral bells or heuchera have yummy-sounding titles as do many new coneflowers or echinacea. In fact, you could make a whole “meal” with them if you toss in a few old standbys.

Guacamole hosta

For starters, there’s Guacamole (hosta). First course: Tomato Soup (echinacea). Follow that with Mac 'N Cheese (echinacea) or maybe Now Cheesier (echinacea). Have some Fried Green Tomatoes (hosta) on the side.

Want something to drink? There’s Spilt Milk (hosta), Spilled Milk (pulmonaria), Bowl of Cream (peony) and Milkshake (echinacea). You also could enjoy Coconut Lime (echinacea) or Sweet Tea (heucherella).

If you'd prefer something stronger, there's Merlot (echinacea), Blackberry Wine (corydalis), Raspberry Wine (monarda) or Peppermint Schnapps (hibiscus).

Lemon Queen helianthus

Need some fruit to cleanse your palate? Check out Hot Papaya (echinacea), Lemon Queen (helianthus) or Tangerine Dream (echinacea).

If you still have room for dessert, there are plenty of sweets: Crème Brulee (heuchera), Plum Pudding (heuchera), Key Lime (heuchera), Caramel (heuchera), Peach Flambe (heuchera), Chocolate Chip (ajuga), Cotton Candy (stachys) and Raspberry Sundae (peony), just to name a few.

And then there’s chocolate -- lovely, delightful chocolate, good for whatever ails you. You could build a whole garden around plants with chocolate in their names. Two of the best are Chocolate Ruffles (heuchera) and Chocolate Joe Pye Weed (eupatorium).

If you'd prefer something lighter, try Pistache (heuchera), named for the tree that produces pistachio nuts.

Pistache heuchera

Ironically, and perhaps thankfully, none of these perennials with food-inspired titles smell like their namesakes. The only plant I’ve ever found that even remotely smells like food is an ornamental grass called prairie dropseed or sporobolus heterolepsis. Its plumes smell like hot buttered popcorn to me on a good day although my husband can’t smell it at all.

The trend toward food-related perennial names is a bit puzzling, as you don’t see many such names much among annuals, trees or shrubs. The only candidates that come to mind are Chocolate cosmos and Popcorn doublefile viburnum.

Maybe it’s because developing new hybrid plants is a lot like cooking – take a cup of Plant A, add a dash of Plant B, put them together in a warm environment and … well, you get the picture. At least putting these food-inspired plants in your garden won’t pack on the extra pounds the way the real thing would.

All this, however, does leave me wondering what's next. At this rate, it probably won’t be long until someone comes up with a plant named PB&J. Just remember you heard it here first.

(With photos by Lynn Dipple)

Circle Onion

noreply@blogger.com (Karen Geisler) — Sat, 10 Sep 2011 03:42:00 +0000

The circle onion in full bloom

It’s always a bit sad in my garden this time of year. There are sedums and grasses blooming, but the coneflowers are a little long in the tooth and almost everything else looks a bit tired. One big exception is a plant at the end of my front sidewalk – allium senescens ssp. glaucum, better known as the circle onion.

It’s a funny name for a cool little plant. And it has a number of other nicknames as well. Among them are German garlic, Blue Siberian onion, cowlick onion, corkscrew ornamental onion, spiral onion, curly chives and circle chives.

A closeup of the circle onion's flower

One look at the plant, especially in the spring, explains why. Its blue-gray leaves form a spiral, almost a cowlick of sorts. Even this late in the season, when the plant explodes into a bouquet of purple-pink lollipops, the foliage is still a bit twisted and curly.

Like all alliums, or ornamental onions, it likes a well drained site with plenty of sun. The plant tops out at 10 inches tall when in bloom and spreads about 6-10 inches wide. It’s deer- and rabbit-resistant, a big plus.

You can easily divide circle onion. In fact, you need to divide it to keep the plant vigorous once it gets large. I’m going to have to divide some clumps this fall that have been in the ground for about three years. Just make sure you keep the “bulbs” intact.

Circle onion's foliage

What separates this plant from its cousins is that the foliage is nice before and after it blooms. Many alliums that flower in the early summer go dormant after they bloom. In other words, the leaves die. That can leave a bit of a hole in your border unless you put it near other plants that will grow and cover the spot.

Circle onion, though, keeps on giving the whole season long. So if you want some gorgeous color in the late summer and some fantastic foliage, consider putting some circle onion on your plate.

Metallic Blue Lady

noreply@blogger.com (Karen Geisler) — Thu, 01 Sep 2011 20:27:00 +0000

Hellebore orientalis 'Metallic Blue Lady'

The foliage of 'Metallic Blue Lady'

I'm not easily impressed by a perennial, but I recently saw one that knocked my socks off -- a hellebore or Lenten rose called 'Metallic Blue Lady.' The leaves this time of year have a wonderful silvery sheen. In spring, it has a dark, dark purple flower.

It reminded me that fall is a good time to plant, especially when it comes to spring-blooming perennials like hellebores. Planting now allows them to develop a strong root system. The soil is warmer now than in spring, making it easier for them to get established. And cooler air temperatures (believe me, they are coming) will further encourage root development instead of growth above ground.

The same thing applies to a lot of other plants as well. Peonies, for example, are best moved in the fall. Also, if you plant mums early enough, they have a better chance of coming back on their own next year. So if you want to brighten up your garden next spring, doing a bit of planting this fall can put you ahead of the game.

Hibiscus

noreply@blogger.com (Karen Geisler) — Tue, 30 Aug 2011 01:54:00 +0000

'Cranberry Crush'

Say the word "hibiscus," and most people think of the colorful tropical plant that's parked on countless patios every summer.

What many don't realize, though, is that there's a hardy perennial version that blooms from this time of year until frost. Its large flowers are a welcome addition to the garden at a time when few other plants are still providing color.

That is especially true this year when our extensive stretch of 100-degree weather prompted many long-blooming plants to stop earlier than usual. Heat exhaustion, I guess.

Hardy hibiscus flowers can be very large, 8 to 12 inches across, and the plants need to be staked as a result. Some people unfortunately avoid them as a result and that's a shame. The plant has come a long way in recent years and are worthy of a second look.

Initially, hibiscus moscheutos only came in red, pink or white and had rounded leaves like hollyhocks, another member of the mallow family. The latest hybrids come in a broader array of colors and have much more intersting leaves that provide year-round interest.

The leaves of 'Cranberry Crush'

Cranberry Crush, for example, has reddish-green lobed leaves and almost black buds that open to a scarlet red flower. Copper King has leaves that turn a copper color in the fall.

And then there's Blue River II, which despite its name, has the purest white flowers you've ever seen. It would be fantastic in a moon garden.

'Blue River II'

Because these beauties are late to bloom, they also are late to wake up in the spring -- as late as early June, depending on the weather. One of my former neighbors who had these in her yard was constantly fighting the urge to dig these up every spring because she feared they had died.

Hardy hibiscus are hybrids of native wildflowers, though, and they returned reliably, year after year, even with the cold Minnesota winters. They especially work well with spring bulbs as the bulbs are finished blooming by the time the hibiscus starts growing.

These plants started out in swamps so they like consistent moisture for the first year. But once established, they can withstand drought. They need at least six hours of sun and keep blooming despite sweltering temperatures.

Hardy hibiscus don't have the same insect problems that tropical hibiscus can, although be on the lookout for Japanese beetles. Hibiscus should be cut back after a hard frost to about 12 inches and mulched.

'Peppermint Schnapps'

So if you want some color in your garden when all the kids (or grandkids) are back in school and the temperatures outside are a bit more comfortable for lounging, take a look at hibiscus. You don't need to move to a tropical isle to enjoy them.

Daylilies

noreply@blogger.com (Karen Geisler) — Sun, 24 Jul 2011 19:20:00 +0000

'Bela Lugosi' daylily

Nothing says summer more than daylilies.

Coneflowers may come close, but I’m always thrilled when the first daylily breaks into bloom. That’s when I know summer is in full swing. Time to break out the lemonade and barbeque sauce.

The botanic name of daylilies, hemerocallis, comes from the Greek words for day (hemera) and beautiful (kalos) as each flower lasts only one day. They generally bloom from sunrise to sunset, which makes their beauty even more precious.

'Lavender Deal' daylily

There are literally thousands of colors and shapes to choose from: the traditional or diploid ones, tetraploids with thicker petals and larger blooms, doubles, triples, spiders, those with ruffled edges or “diamond dust,” even some with fragrance.

That’s a far cry from the orange daylilies (hemerocallis fulva) that grew in my backyard when I was a kid. My father mowed over them not once but twice, claiming they were a "weed.” Of course, they bounced back better than ever.

Ironically, many states now agree with my dad’s assessment. These lilies -- also called tiger lilies, ditch lilies, roadside lilies and even outhouse lilies -- are considered an invasive weed in several states including Wisconsin. They spread by rhizomes, or underground roots, and are almost impossible to get rid of once they’re planted. While that’s good if you have a problem spot in your yard, it can be a problem if you ever change your mind. You need to remove every little bit of root, and I mean EVERY bit.

'Spiritual Corridor' daylily

The newer varieties, for better or for worse, aren’t quite so vigorous. They need the same care as any new perennial, at least for the first year. You can’t just plant and forget about them like the fulva daylilies. One of my husband’s college friends unfortunately learned that in a big way one year when all of his new daylilies died.

And modern daylilies aren’t exactly low maintenance. They eventually will shade out most weeds that try to grow underneath them, but you need to break off the spent blooms, or deadhead, for them to look their best. That’s especially true with the larger, darker blossoms. The old blooms will eventually fall off, but they make the plant look messy until then.

'Wayside King Royale' daylilies

Many people think daylilies are native, but they’re not. They started out in Asia and came to the U.S. via Europe. Early settlers bought two types of daylilies with them -- orange (fulva) and yellow (flava). The latter, also known as the lemon lily, is much more well-behaved than its counterpart. It doesn’t bloom as much as the yellow Happy Returns daylily you find everywhere nowadays, but it blooms early and has a great lemony fragrance that I love.

Daylilies started getting fancier in the 1920’s and 1930’s and have been going strong ever since. I currently have mostly purple daylilies in my garden. There’s Lavender Deal, Wayside King Royale, Bela Lugosi, Fuschia Dream, Chicago Arnie’s Choice, Prairie Blue Eyes, Swirling Waters and Little Grapette.

Other daylilies that I’ve grown include Catherine Woodbury, Lilting Lavender, Cherry Cheeks and Joan Senior.

'Charles Johnston' daylily

My wish list includes Charles Johnston, a great-looking red flower, and one of the late-blooming varieties such as Autumn Minaret. I saw the latter planted in some containers in Minneapolis one fall and it was spectacular at more than 5-foot tall.

What are some of your favorites?

The Founding Fathers

noreply@blogger.com (Karen Geisler) — Fri, 01 Jul 2011 11:30:00 +0000

Happy Fourth of July!

One of my favorite quotes about gardening is by Thomas Jefferson, the third U.S. president and principal author of the Declaration of Independence.

"Though an old man, I am but a young gardener," he said. For me, his comment perfectly sums up the appeal of gardening -- one is constantly learning and growing.

He wasn't the only Founding Father who was an avid gardener, however. Others who planted extensive landscapes included George Washington, John Adams and James Madison, our first, second and fourth Presidents respectively.

Gardens, for them, were often a way to cope with the pressures of political life.

"As much as I converse with sages and heros, they have very little of my love or admiration," John Adams wrote to his wife Abigail in a letter dated July 3, 1776. "I should prefer the delights of a garden to the dominion of a world."

Washington retreated to his Mount Vernon estate when he wasn't fighting the British or running the country. Alexander Hamilton, the first secretary of the U.S. Treasury, did likewise when he left office.

"A garden, you know, is a very usual refuge of a disappointed politician," he wrote to a friend. "Accordingly I have purchased a few acres about nine miles from town, have built a house and am cultivating a garden."

Gardens with native trees and shrubs also inspired the Founding Fathers, giving them hope that the rich and diverse plant life of their fledgling nation would help it remain independent and prosper.

According to a new book, "Founding Gardeners: The Revolutionary Generation, Nature and the Shaping of the American Nation" by Andrea Wulf, Washington and others radically changed their gardens after the Revolutionary War to be almost exclusively native trees and shrubs. It was a political statement of a sort.

Ironically, Jefferson and Adams also discovered in 1786 that the "hottest" garden trend in England at the time used native American plants. It was easy for Americans to duplicate that look because it involved their own country's plants arranged in a naturalistic style.

Wulf, a British garden historian, noted that several members of the Constitutional Congress took a short break from their deadlocked deliberations in July 1787 to tour the Bartram Garden in Philadelphia. The property included plant material from all of the 13 former colonies, all growing in harmony. The visit may have helped break a stalemate over the structure of Congress, she said.

"It can only be speculation that a three-hour walk on a cool summer morning among the United States of America's most glorious trees and shrubs influenced these men," Wulf wrote. "But what we do know is that the three men who changed sides and made the Great Compromise possible that day had all been there and marveled at what they saw."

So if you find yourself in or near a garden this Fourth of July, take a few moments to reflect on the diversity of America's native plants. It played an important role in the formation of our country.

Have a safe and happy Independence Day!

Worts and all

noreply@blogger.com (Karen Geisler) — Sat, 25 Jun 2011 14:08:00 +0000

Hark ye, m’lords and m’ladies, while I tell a tale of worts. That’s worts with an “o” and not with an “a.”

Their names are many. There’s spiderwort, barrenwort, masterwort, St. John’s wort and others – almost 200 in all.

“Wort” stems from from the Old English word “wyrt,” which means plant, herb or root. It hasn’t been widely used since the mid-17th century, so any plant with a common name ending in “wort” has been recognized as being worthy of cultivation for a very, very long time.

Masterwort (Astrantia major 'Roma')

Most are found in or at the edge of the forest. Many were originally selected because of their reputed medicinal properties.

Spiderwort, for example, was thought to treat spider bites.

Barrenwort supposedly would prevent pregnancy.

Lungwort was reputed to help lung problems because its silver spotted leaves were thought to look like a lung.

And masterwort? Well, according to Monrovia’s ye olde website, it was recommended to treat "the bite of a rabid dog"!

While time – and medicine – have marched on, these plants have endured because their ornamental qualities. Barrenwort (epimedium rubrum) and lungwort (pulmonaria) are both good in dry shade, always a difficult situation for gardeners

Barrenwort has wonderful heart-shaped leaves that are topped with dainty flowers on wiry stems. Make no mistake, however. It’s as hardy as they come. Ditto for lungwort, which now has pink and rose-colored flowers in addition to the original blue.

Barrenwort (Epimedium rubrum)

Spiderwort, which can take part sun but loves moisture, is a bit of a quirky plant. It has an almost zig-zag growth habit and the three-petaled flowers last for only a day. You’ll find it blooming in drifts in the roadside ditches of north central Illinois. It will even thrive under black walnut trees.

Ironically, spiderwort (tradescantia virginiana) is being touted nowadays for a health problem other than spider bites. According to preliminary studies, its blue stamens turn pink when exposed to nuclear radiation or chemical pollution. It’s all the rage on survivalist websites.

Spiderwort (Tradescantia virginiana)

St. John’s wort, of course, has long been thought to help with depression. If you want to grow it because of its nice yellow flowers, however, make sure you get the “Hidcote” shrub version. The actual herb, hypericum perforatum, is classified as an invasive plant by both Wisconsin and Michigan.

All of these plants are time-tested, to say the least, and very worthy of consideration when you’re planning a garden. Or maybe that should that be “wort”-hy…

What's your favorite "wort"?

Gnomes

noreply@blogger.com (Karen Geisler) — Sun, 19 Jun 2011 15:35:00 +0000

Maybe it’s because I saw Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs at an impressionable age, or maybe it’s my German heritage, but I’ve always had a secret love of garden gnomes.

For years, I’ve fought the urge to buy one. They were, after all, considered the height of tackiness when I was growing up in the ‘60s. Practically every garden seemed to be bursting at the seams with one too many of these little creatures.

Still, I read with interest in the late 1990’s about the Gnome Liberation Front which “freed” garden gnomes in France. Then Travelocity’s “Roaming Gnome” came along in 2004 with its cute little pointy red hat and made gnomes respectable again.

The Roaming Gnome

Now that the movie “Gnomeo and Juliet” is a box-office hit, 2011 is definitely shaping up as the year of the gnome.

Garden gnomes – a kinder, gentler version of the dwarves featured in childhood fairy tales -- have a long history. They date back to the early 1800’s in Germany where, according to legend, they brought health, wealth and happiness to their owners.

Gnomes became all the rage in England in the 1840’s after Sir Charles Isham ordered 21 terracotta models from Germany for his Lamport Hall. Unfortunately, things haven’t gone so well since then. The prestigious Chelsea Flower Show in London went so far as to ban gnomes and other colorful garden creatures in 2006 from its featured gardens.

Lowbrow? Maybe, if you’re talking about cheap and cheesy plastic models that quickly fade. But gnomes – when well done – can add a sense of whimsy, of magic to a garden.

There’s no better place for that, especially if your garden is visited by children. And in this day and age, who couldn’t use a little more health and wealth?

Of course, garden gnomes have changed a lot since I was a kid. Most, like the Roaming Gnome, still wear red hats. One website, though, offers “hipsters” wearing purple, blue and all the colors of the rainbow. There also are bikers, both male and female, dressed in leather jackets. (Harley-Davidson, are you listening?)

If you’re a sports fanatic, you’re in luck. Gnomes are now available in the uniforms of your favorite football, basketball, baseball or hockey team. And they aren’t always G-rated. You can get "naughty" gnomes holding a beer can or mooning garden visitors.

With such a broad range of choices, how could I decide which gnome to get?
I finally bought a little gnome couple for my husband on our 25th wedding anniversary. I’m planning to put it out in the garden on June 21, International Gnome Day. While critics may say that there’s gno fool like a gnome fool, I will display it with the same pride as any flower or shrub.

Peonies

noreply@blogger.com (Karen Geisler) — Fri, 10 Jun 2011 03:17:00 +0000

One of my earliest memories is of smelling a peony for the first time. Of course, as a child, all I knew is that it was the biggest, whitest, most frilly flower I had ever seen. It had little red dots in the middle and a fragrance that was sweeter than anything I had smelled before.

Festiva Maxima peony

The peony was one of several we had in a row against the back of our house. My mother also had a shrub rose, irises and a lilac but she generally didn’t bring those into the house – mostly peonies. I guess to her they brought back memories of a day in June 1946 when they filled a little country church for her wedding to a World War II Army Air Force veteran.

Although my mother has added a few gray hairs since then, she still loves her peonies. If I don't get her plants cleaned up early each spring, she's been known to get out there and do it herself, despite her advancing years and my admonishments to the contrary.

Peonies, without a doubt, are a great plant. They love clay soil, asking only for an occasional top dressing of composted mature. Many are fragrant. If the blooms aren't already big enough, you can pinch off some of the smaller buds so the remaining flowers become incredibly huge. They make great cut flowers.

Kansas peony

And peonies are long-lived. I’ve gone back to look at my previous gardens and much of what I had planted is now dead and gone. The peonies remain.

My decision to plant peonies in all of my gardens, though, hasn't been made with my head. It was made with my heart.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m as enthusiastic as anyone about new plant cultivars. I've grown some of the new coral-colored peonies (prompting a lot of oohs and ahs from my neighbors). I'm also dying to find a place in my garden for one of the new Itoh intersectional peonies.

Still, my garden will always have some of the time-tested peony varieties like Festiva Maxima, Kansas and Sarah Bernhardt. They're sentimental favorites. Every garden should have flowers that hold a special meaning for its owner. After all, that's what makes a garden uniquely yours.

An introduction

noreply@blogger.com (Karen Geisler) — Mon, 06 Jun 2011 02:52:00 +0000

I started out as an accidental gardener.

It all began when my husband and I bought our first house, a 75-year-old, two-story brick-and-stucco charmer in St. Paul, Minn., near Macalester College. It was winter and we realized it would eventually need some landscaping work. There was a blue spruce trimmed up almost beyond recognition and an especially nasty juniper on the front sidewalk that threatened to engulf anyone who ventured too close.

Then the snow melted.

Suddenly, the walk to the garage was crunchy. The whole backyard was crunchy and there was no grass. We consulted our new neighbors and learned that the legal description of our property, the Walnut Grove Rearrangement, was quite literally true. We had two of the four remaining black walnut trees in the area.

This made us very popular with the squirrels, especially in the fall. It also made us very unpopular with landscapers because such trees emit a chemical, juglone, that instantly kills roses, tomatoes and a host of other plants.

I started taking classes and learned what plants could be grown under walnuts or in shade. Garden tours became my pastime of choice during the summer months. The dirt in the front of the house, once so hard we needed a pick axe to dent it, eventually yielded to the constant application of composted manure.

Gardening was my “therapy” after a hard day of writing about the world of finance and commerce. So after we moved to the Chicago area, I added a certificate in ornamental plant materials from the Chicago Botanic Garden to my resume. Gardening is now my vocation as well as my avocation. I’m in my third summer as a nursery concierge for Chalet.

A scene from my current garden

I’ve learned a lot along the way from more experienced gardeners who have generously shared their time. I’ve also learned a lot about patience. Last year, for example, I had major surgery during the winter and didn’t get to my “spring cleanup” until well into June. I was fighting weeds all summer.

I didn’t realize it when I put my first trowel in the dirt, but the saying “There’s always next year” is as true for gardeners as it is for Cub fans.

I hope to share my experiences and thoughts with you in the coming weeks. Your comments and suggestions are welcome.