When a Gardener Hosts a Party

An Osteospermum takes advantage of a microclimate to rebloom.

The boy's birthday fell over the Thanksgiving holiday weekend, so even though we didn't host Thanksgiving dinner this year, we found ourselves joining in the annual cleansing of the house event in anticipation of a family gathering. While vacuuming and washing the family room floor, I noticed that my large Pelargonium was shedding dead leaves all over the floor. I was about to simply sweep them up, when I realized that if I didn't remove all the dead leaves still on the plant, it would continue to shed them, so I pulled out my pruners to clean it up. I then had an acute attack of Indoor GADS (Carol's acronym which stands for Garden Attention Distraction Syndrome).
The next thing I knew, I had brought in the bag of potting soil and was potting up a rooted Coleus cutting and moving a Kalachoe to a larger pot.

Somehow, the floor got cleaned, I got dressed for the party just barely on time, and all was the better for it. Am I the only one who needs to clean up plants as well as the house before a party?

Mason Jar Photography

Professional photographer David Perry has demonstrated on his blog A Photographer's Garden Blog, how easy it is to take macro photos using a mason jar, and has invited everyone to try it and then leave him a comment about it. Here are my first photos using this technique.
This first image has a narrow depth of field. I think I prefer the second image, with a greater depth of field.

I'm pleased with the results, but I think it would look better if I got all the label glue off the jar. Next time I'll also crop the photos more, like this:
I didn't crop them because there's no way to do so and include the papery skin with the wonderful texture.

This morning, I was going to throw out the old Hyacinth from last year's forcing to use the pot as a cache pot for a new plant, but I noticed that the old bulb had new bulblettes that were starting to sprout. It got me thinking about the resiliency of bulbs, and also made me wonder how the bulb growers coax a plant to produce one large bulb for sale, rather than a bunch of weak little bulbs. Does anyone know? I find it hard to pitch anything that is making such an effort to grow, so I'll be planting these in a container and allowing them to grow at their own pace. They won't bloom this spring, but I'm hoping they'll bulk up some.

Small Blessings

The other day I noticed that a Campanula persicifolia 'Alba' is reblooming. During the summer, I often forgot about this plant, as it is out by the street, underneath a Physocarpus. But with only five other plants in bloom now, I cannot take it for granted. This little plant is like so many things in life, good but not exciting, only missed when it's gone, but highly valued when all else is faded.

Now at Thanksgiving, it is a good time to remind ourselves of all the small blessings we too often take for granted: our health and the health of our loved ones, a roof overhead, heat for the winter, food for the table, peace in our land, the comfort of friends, joy in our hearts, beauty in the garden.

Happy Thanksgiving, my friends, and safe travels!

Adventures in Welding

I finished my garden welding class, and I wish it had been longer. I have so many ideas I'd like to try, but I had to concentrate on my project, which is an abstract free-standing sculpture. It's simple, but it wasn't easy to do, and I do not recommend anything with circles for a first welding project. I knew it would be tricky, but I had a vision, and I felt compelled to bring it to life.

Today I placed it in its permanent position in the garden. While the welding and painting parts are finished, the piece is not complete.
I'll have to wait until midsummer, when the yet-to-be-planted ornamental grass, which is an essential element of the sculpture, reaches its peak.

Welding is a lot like tree pruning: it can be dangerous if you don't use proper tools and safety equipment and don't know what you're doing, you have to be able to visualize the end result before and during the process, it's easy to lose track of time while doing it, and what you end up with might surprise you. When I started the class, I was envisioning a single silver hoop. It morphed into a cluster of smaller hoops, then it became blue, before ending up blue and silver. I can't wait to see how it looks with the grass growing through it.

A Gardener's Wish List

Dear Santa* -

I've been a very good gardener this year. I put down organic fertilizer for all the plants that needed it, and I mulched everything well. I sowed seeds pretty much on time (it's not my fault I was sent Nicotiana seeds in Zinnia packages). I tried to plant in groups of three, and I am expanding a couple of beds to make them more attractive. I put up hummingbird feeders and changed the syrup often, I shared plants with other gardeners, I sifted compost, and I pulled lots of weeds. Can you please bring me one or more of the following items, listed in no particular order:

1. The book "The Garden Visitor's Companion" by Lisa Jones
2. The book "Understanding Perennials" by William Cullina
3. A long handled Cobrahead weeder
4. A fold-down potting bench, but I can't remember where I saw it, so if that's too hard to find, a potting tidy from Gardener's Supply would be okay.
5. A plasma cutter
6. A MIG welder
7. A welding helmet with self-darkening eye shield
8. A pair of Ethel gardening gloves, preferably in Snakeskin or Port Royale (I've worn a hole in the free trial pair I received at Spring Fling)
9. A pair of Rose gloves. Now that my Rose is growing I need to prune it, and, while I'm thinking about it
10. A gift certificate for a David Austin Rose
11. A Haws watering can (which can be seen being demonstrated by Carol here)
12. A trowel (somebody got foam insulation all over it and never replaced it)
13. Large Tub Trugs in green or blue
14. A digital SLR camera, preferably a Canon
15. Photoshop

Best wishes,

Mr. McGregor's Daughter

(*Hint, hint - for whoever pulls my name this year, you need look no further. I've posted this early to give you plenty of time to order online.)

The Tough Keep Going: November Bloom Day

Is this Helleborus 'Pink Lady Strain' very, very late, or very, very early?

Welcome to weird, brought to you by El Nino, that warming of the waters of the Pacific Ocean, which causes warmer and drier than normal winter weather for the Midwest. A series of freezes have knocked out the usual November bloomers, Monkshood, Campanula 'Sarastro,' Geranium 'Gerwat' (Rozanne) and Geranium nodosum 'Svelte Lilac.' Yes, it's warmer now than it was throughout most of October, and it hadn't rained in over two weeks (there was a trace amount last night). Is it any wonder some of the plants are confused?

While there are no new plants blooming, here is the Bloom Day debut of a plant I put in the garden last spring, Geranium 'Bob's Blunder.'For Bloom Day, I don't usually include plants that haven't spent an entire season in the ground, as I feel it isn't representative of the plant's performance in my garden. I'm making an exception for this nifty little plant, as it is the very last Geranium still blooming, even beyond its neighbor and fellow recent plantee, Geranium 'Blogold' (Blue Sunrise). If this plant is a blunder, I can only imagine how fantastic one of Bob Brown's successes would be.

And now, Squirrelhaven's toughest plants (if you are curious about how these plants manage to bloom despite freezes, check out "Understanding Perennials" which I've reviewed here):

The porch has provided enough protection for the Petunia to spit out a few final blooms.
Say goodbye to Symphyotrichum (Aster) laeve 'Bluebird.'This is the very last bloom.

The Mum that was just starting to open for last month's Bloom Day, is nearly done, with only a couple of buds yet to open. The last of the pollinators appreciate it. (Click on photo to see the insect.)

Aster tataricus is nearing the end of its run (the yellow foliage behind it is a Thalictrum).

This Wallflower continues to bloom, even as its foliage has started to turn.

Showing no sign of stopping is Malva Zebrina. It wouldn't surprise me if they are still in bloom a month from now.

With an El Nino winter it's possible that the Sweet Alyssum
and these Pansies will also bloom through December. The leaves are gone from the trees, and the only shrubs still showing autumn colored foliage are the Hydrangea quercifolias, Cotinus coggygria 'Nordine,' and the Tree Peony. But many of the perennials still have colorful foliage, so the garden remains attractive for a little while longer. It will be interesting to see what December brings.

Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day is the brainchild of Carol of May Dreams Gardens, where this month's participants have left links to their posts. Take a virtual tour to see what's still blooming in your area and in climates dramatically different.

For a Good Time, Read This Book

Move over Mike Dirr and Alan Armitage, you've both been replaced in my heart by William Cullina (of the New England Wild Flower Society fame) and his new book "Understanding Perennials."
I saw it in the new book area of the library and nearly didn't pick it up. I thought to myself, "Not another book about perennials!" But this is not just another book about perennials; this is a botany textbook masquerading as a gardening book. From the way he writes, Cullina comes across as the cool, funny college professor that everyone wanted to take, whose lectures were always packed with eager students who not only stayed awake, but came out of class discussing what they heard with their fellow students. Not only are his explanations made in easy to understand analogies, but they are also filled with humor.

In addition to teaching about the workings of plants, Cullina gives helpful, practical advice, such as recommending buying perennials from the bargain table when they've finished blooming or are dormant, as that is the best time to plant them. He also discusses soil and how to improve it to provide what perennials need. I particularly liked the section on propagation, including seed handling. In addition to the excellent prose, the book is full of drool-worthy photos. (Check out 'Semidouble Pink' Thalictrum (Anemonella) thalictriodes shot on page 102.) Cullina's passion for plants shines through and inspires the reader to look at his or her plants in a new light. It's also a very entertaining book which I enjoyed reading just to read. This is the perfect book to curl up with under a warm blanket, with a good red wine on a cold winter's evening. I'm so glad I checked it out.

The Joy of Leaf Mold

Every year it's the same thing, the neighbors stuff their leaves into bags and set them out at the curb to be picked up and taken to the municipal compost pile. This year, in a slight twist, by claiming to be environmentally responsible, the village has discontinued free leaf bags (they're having budget problems). So we've all had to buy the bags this year, despite the village's suggestion that residents compost their fallen leaves or put them in the Big Green Monster.

I've bought leaf bags too, but only to store some of the leaves to use as winter mulch. I won't give away my precious leaves, oh no. While many gardeners wax poetically about the wonders of compost, I am enamoured of leaf mold.

Compost, which is pretty much anything that can rot, is the thing for feeding plants, but for improving the condition of soil, leaf mold, which is solely rotted leaves, is the best. I've posted about how my soil develops gaping cracks every summer, regardless of the amount of rainfall. Leaf mold is my weapon of choice against the clay that causes the cracks. It's also what native woodland plants want to grow in.

Making leaf mold is easy. If your leaves are small, thin, or not plentiful, leaving them where they fall in the garden is a good way to let nature make leaf mold. If, as in my garden, the leaves are large, thick or smothering the plants, the leaves should be removed, shredded and then returned.

For leaves fallen on the lawn or when there are too many to leave in the garden, the patient/lazy way to make leaf mold is just to pile up fallen leaves in an out of the way corner and let them rot for a couple of years. (While storing them in black plastic bags has been recommended, that's not an eco-friendly way to do it, as you end up with plastic bags that can't be reused.) That's too slow for me, and, besides, I'd run out of places to store them all within a year. Instead, I shred the leaves, either with the lawn mower or a leaf blower/vac set on vacuum mode (a chipper shredder would be ideal), then put the shredded leaves in a bin. Depending on the weather, I can have usable leaf mold in a couple of months.

The bin is full to the brim in autumn, but by the end of winter, it has already broken down quite a bit. Then, as I remove the shredded leaf-mulch I've put down for winter protection, I put it in the leaf mold bin. The stuff on the bottom from the previous autumn is ready for use in the spring in beds and in container plantings, and by midsummer, much of what I added in spring is ready also. The last of the finished product in autumn is used to cover Sanguinaria, which invariable pushes itself up out of the ground, and as a top dressing over dormant spring ephemerals. Not bad for something that grows on trees.

The End of the Line - Picture This Photo Contest

The theme for this month's photo contest at Gardening Gone Wild is "The End of the Line," and guest judge Joshua McCullough is looking for that to be shown literally, symbolically or metaphorically. I've tried to combine all three into one, along with a touch a humor.

This headstone is from a cemetery a short walk from my house. The oldest graves, such the subject of my entry, date from the late 19th Century. There's even the grave of one of the former owners of the land of which Squirrelhaven was once a part.

It's a charming little cemetery, but easily missed by busy commuters passing it by every day. November is the month of remembrance, with All Souls' Day and Veterans' Day. It's a time to reflect on the transient nature of life, and to give thanks for the wonderful people in it and the joys we so often take for granted.

The Late Roses

On Halloween, I took the kids in their costumes over to my parents' house. I was shocked to find that two of my mom's Roses were still blooming, despite several freezes. (My Rose hasn't bloomed since August, and the Roses in the main garden at my parents' house are done blooming.) The towering orange one pictured above is in a decent microclimate against the brick wall on the east side of the house. The David Austin Rose 'Sharifa Asma' (below, paired up perfectly with a Mum) is in the coveted position of tucked beneath the bay window on the south side of the house.With such microclimates, these Roses can continue churning out blooms until the real cold sets in.

The concern is that the serious cold won't arrive on time. That seems like an odd concern, but my mom and I recall the year, not so long ago, when we had an extended fall, and the Roses were blooming into December. Mom lost nearly all of her Roses that year because when the cold suddenly hit in January, their tissues hadn't hardened up and they froze. 'Sharifa Asma' and 'Zepherine Drouhin' (on the east side against the house) were the only survivors. The microclimates protected them that time. I hope it will again. It would be a shame if these became late Roses.

Do They Know Something, or Are They Just Confused?

What's wrong with this picture? (Prairie Smoke, Geum triflorum)


While planting some bulbs today, I thought it was a good time to divide and replant some spring ephemerals while they were dormant. Only they weren't exactly dormant. Am I confused, or are these Dutchman's Breeches (Dicentra cucullaria) sprouting prematurely?

Is this a sign of a mild winter, or will this Trillium grandiflorum be in for a rude shock?I've never noticed it sprouting in fall. Maybe it just needs more soil on top of it.

But then, poking around a bit, I saw that the Snowdrops (Galanthus elwesii) are sprouting, and that a Daffodil I dug up accidentally was also sprouting.

And then there's this Hellebore that has never really stopped blooming.Now it's got its color back and, frankly it's starting to look like spring out there. I know the weather's been a little strange lately, but really, isn't this a bit much?