Petal Talk

May Flowers Can't be Stopped!

noreply@blogger.com (Jean) — Thu, 16 May 2013 00:16:00 +0000

Primula sieboldii

Happy Garden Bloggers Bloom Day - the day that blogger extraordinaire Carol Michel invites bloggers from around the world to share what's happening in their gardens.
So what's up in my garden this mid-May day? The bad news is that the mosquitoes are back.
But the good news is that, this time of year, plants are popping into growth spurts on an almost hourly basis.

Primula sieboldii is one of the easiest primroses to grow. If given plenty of moisture (mine are in a low spot), they will take quite a bit of sun.

Rhododendron 'Ken Janek'

Rhododendron 'Ken Janek' is one of my favorites, with nearly spotless foliage and consistent blooms in mid-May. I love how they pop open slowly, one bloom at a time until they resemble a frilly party dress.

When we first planted it many years ago, it was beneath a sizeable pin oak tree. When the tree fell down, it eventually came to thrive in its new, sunnier situation. It's backed up by Rhododendron fortunei, a Chinese species that has nearly reached its stated size of 10 feet tall. Last year, the three Rhodos in this grouping all bloomed at the same time, but the R. fortunei isn't even trying to bloom yet. Oh well, it's not a bad thing to stretch out the bloom sequence.

'Princess Chiffon' is the earliest tree peony to bloom in my garden.

I'd just been thinking how nice it was that the tulips were carrying on for awhile until the early tree peony opened up when I noticed it had.
From yesterday's tightly furled bud with a hint of pink at its tip to a full-blown show of compressed petals in a 24-hour period is what a May garden is about.

Both lilacs--'President Lincoln' and 'Beauty of Moscow'--are gifting our noses with the epitome of May fragrance, but Viburnum 'Aurora' is no slouch in the scent department. We moved it to its current location last fall, but it's still managed to throw out a few blossoms.

Viburnum carlesii 'Aurora'

If you have a spot with great drainage and lots of sun, I hope you're considering Dianthus. While some of the newer hybrids are not known for their fragrance, 'Red Beauty' won't disappoint. It's a sport of 'Firewitch' but more heat tolerant.

Lilac 'President Lincoln'

Dianthus 'Red Beauty'

Promising bud of peony 'Roselette'

As for the mosquitoes, the people at ThermaCELL sent me a portable mosquito repellent appliance last year and it really works! I used the appliance that covers a 15 by 15 foot square area, which was perfect for use when relaxing on the patio. I liked that there was no strong chemical scent that I would have to wash off when I got inside. These appliances are available at lots of chain retailers for under $30, well worth the price for enjoying the outdoors without those buzzing, biting little blighters.

It's Geum Cocktail Time!

noreply@blogger.com (Jean) — Sun, 12 May 2013 14:48:00 +0000

Geum 'Tequila Sunrise'

I love these little plants for their cheerful blossoms and healthy-looking summer foliage. They typically open at the same time as mid-season tulips, perennial bachelor's buttons (Centaurea montana), many deciduous Azaleas and short, mid-season Iris.

Last year Brent Horvath of Intrinsic Perennials sent me some of his newest Geum cultivars from his Cocktail Series, and this year, they're doing swimmingly! Named for adult beverages, they include 'Tequila Sunrise', 'Alabama Slammer' and 'Mai Tai'. And if you ever thought all Geum are orange, you should take a look at these little marvels.

Geum 'Mai Tai'

Depending on the stage of bloom,Geum flowers of the Cocktail Series start out with a deep coloration that contains varying degrees of red and yellow and then fades to a beautiful shade of peach, pink, or gold with subtle highlights. Each flower is a work of art and, if possible, the plant should be as close to eye level as you can get it or at least near a well-traveled garden path.

Geum 'Mai Tai'

Geum 'Alabama Slammer'

Plant Buying Trip Part One

noreply@blogger.com (Jean) — Sat, 11 May 2013 22:33:00 +0000

Once again, Lake Michigan is providing us with some April-esque weather, and I don't mind it a bit. We've been on this seesaw before--cold and dry, then cool and wet, and finally warm and sunny. This sequence of weather patterns seems more than a little schizophrenic, but I'll take it over a sustained heat wave any day.

Dicentra 'Burning Heart' planted with Galium odoratum.

Last Monday, my neighbor Lesley and I drove to Sunrise Greenhouse in Grant Park, IL and drove home with a little space to spare in my Saturn Vue. I'm happy to say I found some real gems, including a little bleeding heart I fell in love with called 'Burning Heart', with cherry red flowers hovering over blue fern-delicate foliage.

In keeping with my lifetime goal of trying everything once, I purchased a single pot of each plant that caught my eye. (If I still love it after an entire calendar year, I will buy more.)

The little bleeding heart's placement beneath Magnolia 'Pink Charm' is to eventually provide a wonderfully layered color echo. If the Dicentra remains in leaf throughout the season, I can't think of a better match for the deep pink of the Magnolia flowers.

Magnolia 'Pink Charm'

I considered planting Rodgersia 'Cherry Blush' beneath the Magnolia, but it might grow a bit large for that and possibly upstage the Magnolia. I'd tried growing Rodgersia before but had no luck with it. Persistence pays off in gardening, however, and the Rodgersia henrici I planted last year has come up and even looks as if it will bloom!

This is the Rodgersia 'Cherry Blush' I just bought.

Last year's Rodgersia as it emerges from the ground.

Great Combos: You Can Grow That!

noreply@blogger.com (Jean) — Sat, 04 May 2013 15:14:00 +0000

The most wonderful time of the year in my garden is peony time. And although I have finally succeeded in having something in bloom or looking colorful throughout the season, it's from mid-May through early June when things get downright take-my-breath-away gorgeous. With more than 40 herbaceous peonies and a few tree and intersectionals, I could concentrate on just the peonies. But every plant, no matter how breathtakingly beautiful, can look even better when partnered with another plant or plants. I've captured these peony pairings because timing is everything and the range of bloom times for peonies is, on average, about five weeks.

Peony 'Mme Ducel' with Iris siberica 'Baby Sister'

Peony 'White Wings' with Dianthus Bath's Pink

Peony 'Paladin' with Helianthemum 'Hartswood Ruby'

Peony 'White Cap' with Penstemon 'Prairie Twilight'

That's it for now, just enough to get you started. Each year I add more to the mix, but haven't captured the happy couples on camera.

Make sure you take a look at what other garden bloggers have come up with for this month's...

Garden Benefits from Refrigeration

noreply@blogger.com (Jean) — Mon, 29 Apr 2013 00:07:00 +0000

Bouquet with Tulip 'Exotic Emperor', narcissus and one
tulip 'Miami Sunset'.

Depending on which way the wind puffs, I'm either donning or doffing my sweatshirt. And I'm sitting inside. I swear I'm hearing a fog horn but we're at least three miles from the lake. It's one of those days when Lake Michigan acts as a giant refrigerator--the old-fashioned kind that comes with plenty of frost. Even three miles away, our spring weather is governed by this huge body of water, the second largest Great Lake at approximately 118 miles wide and 303 miles long.

But you won't find me complaining while the lake temperature hovers at around 41 degrees F--a good temperature for keeping things mild yet still springlike. It's been a great year for spring bulbs, and Lake Michigan can take much of the credit. The first tulips to open, 'Exotic Emperor', are still looking good, while 'Miami Sunset' is as fresh as when it began to open a week ago. I'm glad I planted tulips last fall, even if the deer decimated a good number of them before they'd even formed flower buds.

Tulip 'Miami Sunset'

Maurice the Hammy Cat sneaks
up on the camera.

The bulbs aren't the only plants benefiting from our natural fridge. The Hellebores are as perky as ever, and Pulmonaria blossoms are providing a great blue counterpoint to the warm shades of yellow, peach and orange.

Tulip 'Analita'

And I've promised myself I'd actually weed the whole garden before the peonies start to bloom. It just might happen this year, as I'm governed in summer by mosquito season, which officially begins after just one day of 80 degree temps.

Tulip 'Exotic Emperor' is dramatic inside and out.

Temperatures of late are perfect for my new gardening ensemble - Garden Girl gardening pants and Muck Boots gardening shoes. I'm liking the Muck Boots for their semi-tight fit around the instep for keeping dirt out of my shoes. And no matter the temperature, I haven't felt them to be either too hot or too cold. I had a size conundrum at first, as they don't come in half sizes and I happen to wear an 8 and a half usually. I ordered a size 9 so I could wear wool socks with them in the cold weather. When they came in there was too much slippage at the heel even with heavy socks. I exchanged them for an 8, and while I can't wear heavy socks, I can easily wear thinner ones and still have a great fit.

Muck Boot shoes even look good while relaxing.

As for the Garden Girl pants, they were sent by the company for me to try, which is a good thing, because I honestly would have a hard time paying over $90 for a pair of pants to wear while crawling ab out in the mud. I'm not really sure what size I have, as it says they are roomy. I can say that, if you get the right size, they fit great, especially with the stretchy elastic panels on each side that extends from waist to upper hip. I like that the ankle cinches closed with Velcro so the legs don't get caught on things or admit the occasional creepie crawlie. There is plenty of knee room for kneeling, and they even offer removable knee pads, which are to be inserted from inside the pants. This just seems incredibly awkward, so I don't use them.

Deer Deterrant / Raccoon Restriction

noreply@blogger.com (Jean) — Wed, 24 Apr 2013 16:55:00 +0000

It might look like bare dirt in the VegTrug, but I'm expecting to be eating lettuce and beets some time in the future. I planted Big Boston lettuce, Golden Beets, Flat of Egypt beets and European Red and Green lettuce mix. That's all. Last year, my first with the VegTrug, I tried to plant too much and nothing ended up doing that well.

When the plants start developing enough size to become tempting for the deer, I'll put a cover on it. I have a choice between the greenhouse plastic or a screen.

Raised veggie beds by Leslie and Jeremy

Our neighbors fell in love with our VegTrug last year, and decided to create their own version as part of their deck. When I heard the rhythmic sound of wood staples, I had to go and see what they were up to. This marvel of design using inexpensive materials like chicken wire, is accessible from both sides and features latches on each hinged door to keep out everything from raccoons and deer to the neighborhood cat. Leslie plans to grow tomatoes and zucchini in this, one of the few sunny spots in her garden.

Daffodil Season at Brincka-Cross Gardens

noreply@blogger.com (Jean) — Sun, 21 Apr 2013 13:13:00 +0000

We found some wonderful surprises at Brincka-Cross Gardens in Furnessville. It was cold and wet, but color could be found both up high and much closer to the wet ground. It was well worth it.

White-flowered Pieris blooms on 8'+ shrub

There is no longer a breathtaking swathe of Narcissus once called "Daffodil Hill," but there are still plenty of varieties to enjoy as individuals. The list found in records kept by Bill Brincka included around 300 different varieties of Narcissus--more than enough to enchant both casual observer and passionate collector.

I have no way of knowing which is which, but I am guessing those blooming right now are of the mid-season types. According to Brincka's list, most of the daffodils are mid- and late-season varieties, so there should be at least another week to 10 days of blooms, depending on the weather.

No Comparison - But let's do it anyway...

noreply@blogger.com (Jean) — Sat, 20 Apr 2013 17:03:00 +0000

Narcissus 'Passionale'

My husband is always accusing me of being cavalier with my plants. Ok, so maybe I'm not a sentimentalist when it comes to saving something just because it grows. The anniversary daffodils are another matter, however. The Narcissus variety called 'Passionale' bloomed in our garden on our wedding day - April 25, 1987. They happened to again be in bloom on that day the following year, which sealed the deal on our name for them. When we moved to a temporary location in August, 1999, I dug them up and planted them in my parents' garden, where they bloomed the following spring. I marked them and moved them to our new home garden in the fall of 2000.

Last year, however, they were in full bloom on March 31. Today, five days before our 26th anniversary, they're in tight bud. But they'll at least be blooming closer to our anniversary than they were last year, which happened to be our 25th.

I couldn't resist picking one of my favorite tulips, 'Montreux' from the raised bed on the south side of the house.

Tulip 'Montreux' in early April, 2012

The one I picked hasn't even begun to show the coloration it's capable of. This is a flower that gets better as it opens up, providing us with several days anticipation. I have to plant tulips close to the house, as they're just too tempting to the herd of marauding deer that have been coming by twice a day.

If this were a painting, I'd call it "Insult and Injury."

Tulip 'Montreux' today

My pronouncement about snow last month has come back to haunt me. It snowed last night, and was still lingering on little shady patches and plants. I was happy to see the lettuce seed I'd planted in the VegTrug had sprouted, and even happier to see it wasn't slowed down by the snow. The catmint has grown quite lush on the east side of the house and took the little snow dusting in stride.

Spring Brings Promise of Blooms

noreply@blogger.com (Jean) — Sun, 14 Apr 2013 16:47:00 +0000

It's not the latest I've had Crocus in bloom. But comparing anything with 2012 makes everything seem late. This huge crocus stood out, surrounded as it was with brown, crisp winter leaves. It was all alone, having arrived most likely in the company of a relocated shrub or perennial. If it had been planted in a group I probably wouldn't have paid much attention. And I wouldn't have learned that the stigma of the flower is such a vivid orange it's hard to photograph.

Cornus mas lures me into the woods to get a closer look. Even the tiniest flowers stand out on bare stems. As the flowers of the dogwood open, clumps of daffodils will provide a perfect counterpart.

At least the Hellebores are finally opened up and visible throughout the garden. Most are a version of deep pink, but one lonely white-flowered plant provides the most bang for th buck in the midst of a brown landscape.

Promises for future flowers pop up almost daily, with bulbs running the gamut from Eremurus (foxtail lilies) to Hyacinth. Eremurus is the tallest plant going and, for me, blooms along with the latest flowering peonies.

Eremurus, or foxtail lily emerges amidst the mums.

Whether or not you recall my pronouncement about the last snowfall, I'm admitting here that I was wrong. It snowed yesterday, and I photographed the icy pellets as they landed on Peony 'Rose Gnome'. Luckily it didn't last and it didn't provide even a hint of cover, so I'll revise my March 15 premonition to state that "it won't snow measurably."

Peony 'Rose Gnome'

A pair of black-capped chickadees seem to be preparing a nest in a decorative birdhouse in my garden. It's looking a bit rundown and I'd planned to replace it, but they apparently don't mind.

Olly olly oxen free!

noreply@blogger.com (Jean) — Thu, 11 Apr 2013 00:02:00 +0000

The only difference in the use of this hide and seek catchphrase is that I am both the hider and the seeker. I planted 336 bulbs last fall. Where the heck are they? This is what I asked myself in a semi-audible way as I scratched the surface of dried leaves from the partially-frozen ground. “We had six inches of snow just a few weeks ago,” my husband reminded me.(I accused him of blatant hyperbolic behavior and then apologized when I remembered he was right.)

Muscari 'Superstar'

Oh sure, I can see signs of some of the 115 tulip bulbs here and there, but I’ll have to wait until they bloom to know which is where. If they bloom. The extravagant nature of the purchase was driven home when I noticed deer footprints in the midst of one clump.

The trouble with planting spring bulbs is that, in order for them to look their best, some thought should be given to their surroundings.

I'm beginning to think perhaps I should make an attempt of cleaning up the garden in the fall. If I'd at least cut back the skeletal remains of the Japanese anemone and the now soggy strands of Siberian iris leaves, it would at least be easier to rake. My excuse has always been that I have more motivation in spring. As I age, I'm finding it doesn't matter how much motivation I have if there is a lack of momentum. So in order to negate the brown on brown surroundings, I'm left no choice but to plant more bulbs.

Scilla mischtschenkoana

Compared with my existing Muscari, the hybrid 'Superstar' is blooming very early. Of course, I planted it in the raised bed on the south side of my house, which is always a week or so advanced.

The 50 Scilla mischtschenkoana make attractive clumps that accompany fat little Hyacinths planted over the years. A clump of deep blue Hyacinths have apparently reverted back to a simpler structure. They're not the chubby little floret-packed stems, but they're still pretty and fragrant.

Simple hyacinth patch

A new bulb for me this year is Bulbocodium vernum, a Colchicum relative that's also referred to as spring saffron. If ever a bulb cried out for a tidy environment it's this one. It has no stem, and simply pops up out of any old scrubby pile of leaves and other leftover winter detritus without any warning.

Bulbocodium vernum

Impatiens Imperiled

noreply@blogger.com (Jean) — Tue, 09 Apr 2013 16:08:00 +0000

It's kind of scary when a bullet-proof plant starts acting up. Impatiens have been the top-selling bedding plant for at least a decade, starting its rise in the mid 1980s and skyrocketing to fame for its many colors, range of heights and ability to turn a dark and shady spot into a kaliedescope of color.

As ubiquitous as Impatiens walleriana has been, it's hard to imagine a world without them, but it's really not looking good for this colorful standard. The villian in this tragedy is downy mildew of Impatiens, or Plasmopara obducens. It affects standard Impatiens including hybrids of I. walleriana, I. balsamina, I. pallida and the native jewelweed, I. capensis. New Guinea impatiens are resistant to the disease.

Experts in the horticulture world have provided growers with recommendations that include the use of a fungicide to prevent the disease's spread. However, even if a batch of disease-free Impatiens arrives at a retail location, there could still be contamination via windborne spores traveling more than a mile. There are also concerns about spores that overwinter in the soil.

The father of the impatiens was Claude Hope, who hybridized it in Costa Rica after WWII. His first impatiens breakthrough was the Elfin series. It was in 1966 that Hope was satisfied with the pink F1 hybrid he devised. His breeding stock consisted of hybrids and hybrid varieties from seed. The first samples of Hope's impatiens were sent as trials to Michigan State University and Purdue University. By 1969, his Elfin impatiens were introduced to rave reviews in the U.S.

The State of New Jersey Department of Agriculture has a fact sheet that explains the issue. Michigan State University Extension offers details about managing impatiens that are suspected to have the fungal disease.

Colorful alternatives to Impatiens include Begonia, Coleus, and Torenia, to name a few.

I saw a post recommending Vinca (Catharanthus roseus) as a good Impatiens substitute, but that's not the case, as the Vinca needs full sun to bloom well.

Ball Seed offers a list of alternatives for use in shaded garden beds. Michigan State University also recommends several plants to use as Impatiens Alternatives in this standard and mobile list.

Amaryllis 'Pavlova': You Can Grow That!

noreply@blogger.com (Jean) — Thu, 04 Apr 2013 15:20:00 +0000

After last year's success with three varieties of Hippeastrum (Amaryllis) from Eden Blooms, I had hoped perhaps I could repeat or even improve upon their performance. The results were somewhat unexpected.

Hippeastrum 'Pavlova'

Out of the three, the one with the most impressive number of blossoms was ‘Pavlova’, a white double I had ordered as an afterthought, as I’m not big on some of the doubled blooms of many types of flowers. I can now recommend 'Pavlova' as a great Amaryllis to try for beginners. Not only did Pavlova bloom after just seven weeks fromplanting, she bloomed from a bulb of a size from which I didn’t expect much.
While 'Razzle Dazzle' taunts me with one fat bud, and 'Sweet Lillian' has yet to send up a blooming stem, 'Pavlova' is in danger of being passed along to anyone with an interest in successful Amaryllis culture. Perhaps I'll give her the opportunity to perform for the Christmas holiday by planting her on Halloween.

Hippeastrum 'Pavlova' - two stems.

Depending on how well the bulbs increase and grow in summer, I might just have one or two to share here with my readers. Stand by and check back in September. I'll mark it on my calendar. Meanwhile, check out all the other "You Can Grow That" blogs here:

A Cactus of a Different Color

noreply@blogger.com (Jean) — Sun, 24 Mar 2013 23:22:00 +0000

So how bored must a plant-lover be to want to get the latest in (artificial) color couture? Euro Cactus out of the Netherlands has come out with a wide array of colorful succulents. And in order to leave nothing to chance, they have been spray painting them to make sure people notice.

A friend of mine who is well-versed in horticulture, picked up an unusual succulent with absolutely no tags or signage while shopping at Alsip Nursery in St. John, IN. It was the novelty, obviously. What plant sports leaves of this color? And as a gardener who has picked out thousands of plants in her lifetime, why couldn't she find any sign of a tag that would tell her about the plant?

I'd been talking to Dan Biernacki of Ted's Greenhouse in Tinley Park, IL about succulents in general, and he mentioned the insurgence of fancifully-colored Echeverias and other plants that have been coming out of Europe. By the time I'd gotten home I'd forgotten about it, but the next day my friend showed me this Echeveria of a different color that she'd purchased.

Dan Biernacki said: "The company doing it claims it is a 'special' paint, but in my youth I made many a delivery to florists who had a plethora of "floral" paints that they sprayed on open blooms to achieve various effects. I would gather that if you can spray the delicate tissue of a rose, you could most certainly paint a succulent as well. The paint does seem to remain adhered to the plant quite well but as the cells elongate and the plant grows, the new growth will be the original color of the leaf, usually some shade of green. Also, I have noticed that the growth tends to be "soft" looking, perhaps due to the fact that with the paint on the leaves, the plant cannot perform photosynthesis through the painted areas?"

So now we know how it was done and why the plant actually looks nearly natural as it grows out. But here's the thing that bothers me. Nowhere in the pot or on the plant does it tell the consumer that it has been artificially colored and that the new growth will come out green. It won't stay that color! And let's face it, the color is the reason it was purchased! If you look closely at the photo you can see overspray on the rim of the pot.

Weigh in on whether you think living plants should be spray painted in order to be noticed, and therefore purchased!

The Last Snow - Or Am I Jinxing It?

noreply@blogger.com (Jean) — Sat, 16 Mar 2013 00:19:00 +0000

Like pancake make-up or a fresh coat of paint, snow covers a myriad of messes. The perennials I left to cut back in spring didn't look bad in October, but by late February they started to look more than a little haggard. As of today, I'm declaring the six or so inches that blanketed northwest Indiana ten days ago the last snow.

The last snow made creamy cones on top of the Tiki torches left out from our New Year's Festivus. It made long-empty seed pods look like dangling ornaments on the skeleton of an aster, put a new roof on our dilapidated shed, and made my view so peaceful I could feel the muscles loosening up around my neck.

The last snow that's pretty much gone today even made the girls' yard look pretty. The girls' yard is the fenced-off area open to the doggie door from which our three girl dogs, Olive, Abbie and Poppy emerge whenever they feel like it. It's partitioned off by various degrees of wire fencing in order to try to re-grow some grass (long story involving short-legged digger).

The last snow is the one we'll think about when it's too hot to go outside to deadhead. It's the one that we'll turn the clock back to when we realize it's gardening season and we have so much to do. And as it melts, the last snow, combined with lengthening daylight, will be the first in a series of gentle nudges to let the plants know it's time to wake up.

Happy Garden Bloggers Bloom Day!

Lowly Leek Loses Out

noreply@blogger.com (Jean) — Fri, 01 Mar 2013 18:29:00 +0000

According to legend, a monk who would later be named Saint David, helped out in a sixth century battle between the Welsh and the Saxons. The Welsh were struggling to maintain their ground against the Saxons and the monk saw that part of the problem was that the men were not able to differentiate between their own and the other side. The monk found some wild leek on the battleground and told all of his fellow Welshmen to put a piece of the plant in their helmets so they would know who was who. The Welsh army won the battle, and the lowly leek became part of a legend.

The monk who would be named the patron of Wales died on March 1 some time in the sixth century, and that date each year is called Saint David’s Day. Based on historical literature, Saint David lived a monastic life and therefore it was unlikely he was out in the midst of a battlefield handing out leeks. However, leek legend number two occurred 800 years later when the Welsh battled the French in a field of leeks. So if a plant cries out for legend status in Welsh history, it most certainly is the leek.

Gardeners know leeks are in the onion family, and have a flower that is rounded, a bit bigger than a golf ball, and resembles a pale purple sphere.

Leek relative, ornamental Allium

Its beauty is visible up close, as it’s not a particularly showy bloom in color or size. It wasn’t until 1911 that the daffodil was embraced by the Welsh as their national flower. The rationale at the time seems to have involved the fact that on Saint David’s day, March 1, daffodils were usually in bloom. And that they don’t smell as out of place in social circumstances as leeks.

UK Supreme Court emblem

Fast forward to 2008 when the official emblem of the new United Kingdom Supreme Court was unveiled, and Welshmen took offense at the daffodil’s absence. While flowers of the other nations—the Tudor rose for England, the Scotch thistle for Scotland and flax for Ireland—are represented in colorful renderings, the leek shows up as a set of three leaves between the thistle and rose. From a design perspective, three focal points are more artistic than four, so it makes sense to use only three spots of color in the layout. Also from a design perspective, the leek flower rendered in a simple design in keeping with the other three flowers would likely be too similar to the thistle in both color and form.

Scotch Thistle


Stylized version of the four flowers

I've written about how Indiana chose the peony as its state flower (It revolved around politics), and now realize just how widespread and prevalent the practice seems to be.

England - the Tudor rose
Ireland – the flax, orange lily, or shamrock
Scotland – the Scotch thistle, Scottish bluebell (harebell) or heather
Wales - the daffodil, leek or sessile oak

Garden Bloggers Bloom Day Tropical Paradise

noreply@blogger.com (Jean) — Fri, 15 Feb 2013 16:53:00 +0000

If I squint my eyes and sit near the heating vent I can almost imagine I'm in a tropical paradise. My Brunfelsia jamaicensis has accommodated me with its first open bloom. I've had the plant for a few years now and it hasn't grown that large, a good thing because I'm running out of room for indoor plants. It's pretty potbound but I think I will try to do a root prune on it to keep it in the same pot. It's a woody plant that blooms on old wood.

And speaking of old wood, the prickly Bougainvillea has never bloomed so much--even when it's outdoors in the middle of summer! It apparently is getting enough light in the back room and seems to be moving toward the window. I pruned it up to avoid the repeated stabbings I usually sustain throughout the winter from this thorny tropical.

Perhaps next month I'll be able to report on Amaryllis blooms. But until then, I'm happy with my little and limited indoor tropical paradise.

Magical Surprises: You Can Grow That!

noreply@blogger.com (Jean) — Tue, 05 Feb 2013 00:26:00 +0000

Maybe it's a bit early in the season to traipse through the garden looking for magic. At least that's what I call the little surprises you can never fail to find if you know how to look. They come in the form of plants you'd forgotten you'd planted, bulbs you don't recall digging into the block of thyme in that sunny patch of ground.

One cool thing about fairy houses is their ability to garner
a second (or perhaps a third) glance.

The worse my memory gets the more I embrace surprises. Why not go along with it instead of beating yourself up over not remembering those hundred or so Crocus bulbs you (must have) painstakingly placed in the lawn? Take it just a bit further and you've entered the realm of magic. And why not? It's your garden!
I (and my 60 million or so colleagues in the Baby Boomer group) shouldn't mind being pleasantly surprised once in awhile. And if that surprise turns out to be one of our own making? Consider it a gift made magical by the fact you were able to surprise yourself!

Hamamelis 'Diane'

Of course, self-made magic requires preparation. Using plants that bloom on the cusp of the seasons makes magic more likely. Hamamelis 'Diane' is a hybrid witchhazel that breaks into her colorful show as soon as the right opportunity comes along.

Juniperus h. 'Mother Lode'

If you think conifers are stuck in their own color rut, think again. Juniperus horizontalis 'Mother Lode' puts on a show in the cold of winter. It's called bronze in the conifer world, but it looks more like a heathery coral to me. If you have one in your garden, surprise yourself by a closer inspection of this great groundcover.

Meanwhile, if you've decided to overwinter those citrus plants you couldn't resist in the spring, you might be wondering what that wonderful scent is.

Citrus Clementine Fina Mandarin

If you don't happen to live in Florida or California, you've probably forgotten (or never realized) how good citrus flowers smell, or that it bears fruit in winter.

You can head outside and look for the magic, or plan on surprising yourself in the future by adding something uncharacteristic to your garden. (Besides, planning in the dead of winter will make it all the more likely you'll be surprised.)

What could be more romantic than to surprise yourself with some magic? Besides, it will take the pressure off that special someone in case he or she doesn't get it quite right on Valentine's Day.

A bit anal, you say?

noreply@blogger.com (Jean) — Sun, 20 Jan 2013 22:34:00 +0000

Ok, so I actually spent sime time compiling these bloom dates, but it wasn't really that difficult. The earliest peony to open in 2012 surprised the heck out of me in April. And since I always snap photos of my peonies (they're such prima donnas, you know), and I've made sure the date stamp on my camera is current, it really was simple.

Peony Bloom Season 2012 is a date listing with photos of almost all of the peonies in my garden.

(Almost) Weed-free: You Can Grow That!

noreply@blogger.com (Jean) — Sat, 05 Jan 2013 02:43:00 +0000

For a gardener, weeds are like death and taxes -- one of the only sure things in life. Despite our efforts, weeds will find a way to benefit from the wonderful conditions created for desirable plants. I say it's time to put an end to their easy lives.

While garden entrepreneurs have tried to make weeding fun, it's not always easy. I've heard of more than one person who has tried to save some money and use what's handy to do the deed. But here's a clue: if a method to get rid of weeds seems simple, it's either not safe, not effective, or will prove lethal to all but the weeds you wanted to kill in the first place.

Ignore the flowers--look at the weedy patio cracks!!

If you are completely against chemicals, here are some more benign methods of weed banishment:

Cook them: Boil a pot of water and douse weeds in driveways, between pavers and along paths.
Cover them: "Practical Science for Gardeners" author Mary Pratt recommends covering any bare ground as thickly as possible with a layer of some suitable material such as manure, chopped bark, old carpet or porous plastic membrane.
Crowd them out: Pratt suggests growing desirable plants as close together as possible and immediately mulching areas cleared of annuals in fall to prevent weeds from gaining a foothold in mild winters. This one is my personal favorite, however, it seems to invite "Zelig" weeds.

In a 1983 Woody Allen mockumentary, Leonard Zelig was a nondescript man with the ability to transform his appearance to that of the people who surrounded him. Some weeds have adopted this very behavior, usually outgrowing the very plants they emulate. It's where the well-worn saying, "If it looks too good to be true, it's probably a Zelig weed" comes from.

How you deal with weeds is a personal choice, and there are dozens of gadgets with which to do it. Garden entrepreneurs have been reinventing the hoe, coming up with dozens of incarnations of the original tool. It all boils down to the job at hand, soil condition, age of the weed and the gardeners' physical strength and stamina.

Hobby arsonists might want to try a flame weeder. These are propane-powered torches that kill weeds with fire. Manufacturers suggest keeping a water source handy and staying away from conifers, poison ivy or other plants that are flammable or if burned, can cause lung injuries. (And they don't recommend it for creme brulee.)

Perhaps not as much fun as a flame thrower but certainly safer is the Water-Powered Weeder, distributed by Lee Valley. The tool shoots a high powered stream of water alongside the root of weeds like dandelions, effectively making it easy for you to pull the whole root out.

CobraHead Weeder

Radius Garden Weeder

I usually turn to my CobraHead weeder or my Radius Garden weeder.

Dealing with weeds can be expensive if you like gadgets. It can be dangerous if you like fire, and back-breaking if you don't stay on top of weeding chores no matter which tools you use. Make a resolution in the dead of winter that you'll stay on top of weeds before they can sneak up on you and gain a major foothold. And check out other helpful gardening tidbits here:

The Perfect Gardening Pants

noreply@blogger.com (Jean) — Tue, 01 Jan 2013 17:18:00 +0000

This is the time of year when we eat too much, look back too far and, perhaps, think way too deeply. Happy New Year! And welcome to what I expect will become a foray into comfortable innovations in the garden world.

If I were to design a pair of pants in which to garden, they would be a cross between sweats and jeans. They would be soft against the skin but tough enough to withstand a nick or two by semi-sharp pruners. Buttons would be replaced by Velcro, and pockets holding anything extending below the hip would be detachable. Quickly. You see, while women over a certain age might not concede to loss of flexibility, recalcitrant joints, or thickening middles, they will admit to having demanding bladders.

I don’t know about you, but when I’m busy in the garden, the last thing on my mind is going inside for a pit stop. Until that need becomes immediate. My husband knows better than to come between me and the bathroom during gardening season. He runs for safety when I rip off my gloves and hurtle toward the door yelling, “Coming through!”

The perfect pair of gardening pants would be “off-able” in an instant yet contain enough substance to protect me from thorns and branches. They’d be strong enough to stay up with the added weight of a pair of pruners and even a trowel or weeding implement, which are the only two items I’ve consistently needed at the same time at the furthest point away from my tool stash.

The perfect pair of gardening pants would have optional ankle cinchers so I can easily don a pair of boots while I’m wearing them. I wouldn’t need a pocket in the pants for knee pads, but double fabric or a tougher fabric at the knee would be a must. The Velcro closure would be adjustable at the waist so as to avoid an uncomfortable gap upon bending. And here is the biggest selling point of all for whomever designs and/or markets these women’s gardening pants. THEY SHOULD RUN AT LEAST A SIZE LARGE! That way, if we want them really baggy, we could just order our regular size, or even a size smaller if they have enough extendable perks!

By virtue of the fact that the largest consumer group consists of those born between 1946 and 1964, and that 40 percent of us are obese*, what self-respecting size female baby boomer wouldn’t want to buy a pair of gardening pants in a size down from what they normally wear? (Just sayin'...) What do you think?

Microclimate: You Can Grow That!

noreply@blogger.com (Jean) — Tue, 04 Dec 2012 17:04:00 +0000

Gardening requires both long- and short-focus in order to determine your garden’s “neighborhoods.” Close to the house, you have Phoenix, or the warmest region in the land. It can take the form of early-sprouting bulbs, tiny plants in low places, or blooms that don’t seem to realize it’s winter.

A bit further away you can either plunge right into Siberia or glide into a zone made warmer by surrounding trees and structures. Our garden’s former caretaker wanted privacy from the neighbors and installed a line of yews and arborvitae along the entire eastern edge of the property line. When we moved in we put up a five to six-foot wooden fence along the western edge of the lot to keep our dogs safe.

Another game-changer in pushing the zone envelope is concrete and its relatives, cement and brick. An interesting article about Heat Islands explains the concept in a much larger scope.

Rosa 'Popcorn Drift' takes on a different coloration
in cold weather

I’m not saying I’m the only one in the Midwest to have enjoyed a last-minute bask in the warmth of an unseasonably balmy December weekend. But I did notice the closer I was to the house and the brick patio, the warmer it was.

Today's my birthday, and the warmest since I can remember. The best gift of all are the plants still hanging on in the garden. I'll take them over a bouquet of florist roses any old day.

Gifts for Gardeners

noreply@blogger.com (Jean) — Sun, 25 Nov 2012 14:58:00 +0000

As gardeners, we know that just because it's winter, we haven't stopped thinking about our next season. If we've gotten all of our bulbs into the ground and given thought to the first flower even as we've cut back the last, it's what we anticipate after the holiday hubbub is over.

Do you have any budding gardeners in your lives? Or gardeners on the fence? Gardeners on the fence can include:

Soccer moms currently spending most of their time shuttling kids around in between home and work.
Those who pin pretty flowers onto their virtual boards but assume if they can't afford minions they can't be bothered actually growing them.
Closet gardeners who put real gardening into the yard chore category.
Kids you suspect don't have a clue about where their food comes from.

I've compiled a list of items perfect for gifting to any true or potential gardener.

Click the photo for a slideshare compilation of gift ideas.

A Gardeners Wish List Part I

noreply@blogger.com (Jean) — Fri, 23 Nov 2012 16:01:00 +0000

Okay, so it's time to make my wish list! (I'm having trouble re-setting my holiday clock, and cling to the old traditions of waiting until after Thanksgiving.) So, beginning with things I've always wanted, and assuming there are other gardeners out there who share my wishes, there is:

A heated birdbath or birdbath heater. I found out there are lots of heaters out there, from solar-powered to electric, so I found a site that lists the Top 10 Bird Baths. The site made it clear that I'll need to put my birdbath in a location that doesn't require me to trudge through three-foot snow drifts to refill the vessel when it's empty. It also made me realize I'll need something extremely stable to hold up to the rigors of non-bird parties who will be using it.

My waterproof gardening gloves have finally worn out after four years. They were West County Gloves, and I want another pair. I love the fit of these gloves: Warm, waterproof, and not so bulky that you can't maneuver your hands!

There is Still Time to Plant Bulbs

noreply@blogger.com (Jean) — Sun, 18 Nov 2012 16:59:00 +0000

It’s a double-edged sword, a blessing and a curse, and for me, another excuse to procrastinate. I don’t know how or when it happened, but November has been added to “gardening season.” Tacked on at the end as it is, the penultimate month has become a time to plant bulbs. It also happens to be a great time for bargains. Bulbs are less expensive this time of year. Yes, they’re picked over and the most coveted bulbs are sold out, but if you just need a couple hundred Puschkinia for instance, November is the month to place orders.

Puschkinia bloom early to mid-April, just as Fritillaria
are beginning to perk up.

My fall-planted bulb purchases have come full circle—beginning with an optimistic naïveté in my early gardening years—and returning with a vengeance as my heat tolerance wanes. My first “bulb garden” consisted of three dozen tulips, 24 daffodils and 100 Muscari. If I hadn’t yanked it out after the first year, it would consist of daffodil leaves and a solid clump of Muscari. It taught me that some bulbs were less generous about increasing than were others.

The next year, going for a naturalistic look, I planted a row of tulip bulbs near a rustic fence at the back of our yard. When the early spring came with a foot of rain, my bulbs came floating up toward the house looking for rescue. I learned bubs’ need for good drainage.

I finally got it right the third year, planting four five-bulb clumps of ‘Apricot Beauty’ with some Muscari at their feet. It was also the year that rabbits discovered our yard. I’d no sooner noticed how cleverly the rabbit avoided our Cairn terrier, Piper than it was time for the tulips to bloom. I learned two things that year: how to time bulb companions, and that there is nothing cute about rabbits.

I've thrown caution to the wind this year and ordered a bunch of tulip bulbs. Only two varieties are left to plant along with Muscari botryoides ‘Superstar’. Tulip ‘Exotic Emperor’ (mid-April, 20”) and Tulip ‘Montreaux’ (mid-April, 20”) will go in my favorite evening spot.

Tulip 'Montreux' blooms in my garden mid-April. I'd
forgotten I already had it, so I'll be planting 20 more.

I’ve discovered how pleasant it is to sit in my favorite sunroom chair and watch the light fade. What makes it the most enjoyable is the placement of white or pale-colored flowers within viewing range. I’ve watched Phlox ‘David’s Lavender’, Lilium ‘White Tycoon’, Lilac 'Beauty of Moscow' and Oso Easy ‘Honey Bun’ rose increase their glow as the sun goes down. Next year this feature will begin in April.

Have Your Hands Survived the Season?

noreply@blogger.com (Jean) — Fri, 16 Nov 2012 00:35:00 +0000

Hopefully your hands have survived the season and are still in good working order. Mine seem to get shorter, stubbier, and nearly to the point of resembling Harry Lauder's Walking Stick as the years roll along. My pinkies bend inward, my thumbs have lost their muscle, and the middle finger of my left hand has formed its own dowager's hump. After a day (or even an hour) in the garden, they crack when I bend them, hurt when I lift stuff and look generally like they've done a little more than dabbling at field work.

Each evening I undergo Netflix therapy, during which I massage my hands with emollients containing the highest grease content I can find. I really like The Naked Bee products, including the Hand & Cuticle Salve and the Hand and Body Lotion, both of which I smear on my hands as I lounge in my lazygirl watching movies.

I recently received a pair of gardening gloves to try from Garden Girl USA. They are quite the beauties, no? Ruffled lace and a delicate pink color belie their durable feel and well-constructed constitution. And one of the first things I noticed shortly after putting them on to dig and plant some bulbs? They actually feel good on my hands! According to Petra Maison, founder of Garden Girl, Garden Gloves are midway between the Weeding Glove, which will likely last a season, and the Working Glove, which is a heavy-duty glove made with leather. I have to order a larger size than I used to wear because of my Quasimodo hands. The Large fits very nicely, has a bit of stretch to it, and disguises my bumpy digits quite handily.

When I decided to take a break after planting, I took off the Garden Gloves, and I'll have to say, they looked a lot fresher than I felt. But after a tasty rum and Coke I didn't let it bother me.

Cheers! And Happy Garden Bloggers Bloom Day!