Wishing for the Green Teens

So long Aughts, you are so out of here. Tomorrow we start the Teens. I wish we could leave behind all the crud from the Aughts, and take along only the good stuff, but it doesn't work that way. So looking on the bright side, I'm celebrating the whole "Green" movement thing that became so fashionable in the Aughts.

The problem with fashion is that it inevitably goes out of fashion, and being "Green" is something that should be with us always. Those of us old enough to remember know that being Green ebbs and flows. Rachel Carson's "Silent Spring" comes to mind, as does the "Crying Indian" commercial from the 1970s.

We as gardeners have a responsibility to ensure that Green isn't a fad. We must do all in our power in the coming year and the new decade to encourage our governmental units, our businesses and our neighbors to make being Green a way of life. Ed Begley, Jr., and Bill Nye (The Science Guy) should be our heroes and role models.

I assure you that I will do my part. I've just been handed a bag of Sun Chips (a Frito Lay product) that announces the introduction of the first 100% compostable chip bag, around Earth Day 2010. I promise that I will rigorously test many of such bags this year (on my own dime), and report on this claim. Yes, I will snack for cause. What will you do to advance the Green cause in the New Year?

'09 Best of the Garden - New Additions

As we kiss off say goodbye to 2009, it's time to look back at the best of the gardening year. Here are the new plants that stood out from the crowd and distinguished themselves here at Squirrelhaven.


Clockwise from top left: Heuchera 'Frosted Violet,' Caryopteris 'Jason' (Sunshine Blue), Geranium 'Bob's Blunder,' Papaver paeoniflorum 'Black Peony,' Dianthus 'Cranberry Ice.' Center: Geranium 'Blogold' (Blue Sunrise) with Lettuce 'Merlot.'

Some of them I haven't mentioned often, such as the Heuchera 'Frosted Violet.' This is now my new favorite, displacing 'Raspberry Ice' in my affections. 'Frosted Violet' may have slightly less showy flowers, but the foliage stays much darker and the plants bloom longer and more profusely.

I didn't expect the Caryopteris to bloom as long as it did, and then I was surprised by how attractively the bracts aged. It is borderline hardy here, so I'm crossing my fingers that it will make it through the winter.

I've raved about Geranium 'Bob's Blunder,' a small plant with small flowers, but such beautiful dark foliage and such an extended bloom time. For latest bloom, it beat out all the other Geraniums here at Squirrelhaven, including 'Gerwat' (Rozanne). Coming in a close second is Geranium 'Blogold,' which is like a bleached blonde Rozanne. The new foliage kept the bright chartreuse, while the older foliage became more green during the summer. On the whole, it is a very striking plant all season long.

I've gushed over the Poppy ad nauseum; it will be making a return appearance next year. Another annual that will be making a return appearance is Lettuce Merlot. Tasty, beautiful and healthy, I couldn't ask for more in an edible plant.

I've never grown Dianthus, so I have no standard by which to compare 'Cranberry Ice.' What I can say is that its glaucous (bluish) foliage looked great all season, and the plant was in bloom until the freeze knocked it out in October.

What were your top performers this year?

Red, Green and Blue

Photographer David Perry has given a new assignment just for fun, a color study of one photo of each color red, green and blue. Here's what I found around the house.




I had so much fun photographing the Paperwhite Narcissus roots in the blue vase, that I got a bit carried away. I'll be posting more of those soon.

A Snowy Saturday

snow on Coneflower (Echinacea purpurea) seedheads

Frigid Friday was given the week off for Christmas, and it wasn't even frigid here in Chicagoland (a balmy 44F/6.5C) on Christmas Day. All the snow melted off the driveway and patio, and in some areas (not in my yard) the grass was visible. Then, late in the day the temperature dropped and the rain changed to snow. It didn't stop for 24 hours. The forecast called for 1-3 inches. Not even close, folks. There was so much snow, after the plow came in the morning, we didn't see it again for another 12 hours. Maybe we didn't get as much as Maryland and Oklahoma have gotten recently, but it was enough to render us snowbound for most of the day, ending up with about 9 inches. Luckily, the snow was of the light, fluffy, easily shovelable variety.

While VIS and I shoveled the driveway (repeatedly), the girl was excited about playing in the snow.

I took a couple of photos after round one of shoveling in the morning, and then, because it was snowing so hard, I had the bright idea to take photos of the same thing throughout the day.

There was no snow on the patio the day before, but the garden was still under snow. In fact, I haven't seen the little plants in the garden in a few weeks. For all I know, the Snowdrops (Galanthus elwesii) might be in bud. The last time I saw them, they had sprouted and, as this photo from December 1st shows, the Christmas Rose (Helleborus niger) was starting to bud.

Now they're completely buried. It'll be a long time before I see any blooms outside again. Have you had any snow lately?

A Christmas Card from Me

As a gift to you, here's video of some of my Christmas ornaments.


I don't have many garden-related ornaments. Excluding the pear in the video and an apple, here they are.

Update: by request, here's the set of gardening tools that just arrived yesterday. (I was inspired by Carol's ornaments.)

And Christmas wouldn't be complete without a slice of my mom's fruitcake.

I wish you peace and joy for the New Year!

A Festival of Lights: OOTS

In honor of the Winter Solstice, here are some lights shining out in the darkness. As promised in my last OOTS post, my family and I ventured out of our town to nearby Arlington Heights, IL, for displays with a bit more zing. The house above, on Dun Lo Drive, is featured in both a book and a newspaper article on Christmas decorations. There is a lighted Christmas tree in every window, and an inflatable snowman and Santa, which is synchronized to music. Around the corner of the house, there's even a large, inflatable Tigger.

On North Windsor Drive is a new display which made the local paper's list of the best in the area this year.

We were just driving through the neighborhood when we spotted it. (Which wasn't hard to do.) It also has music. Most houses don't have quite this many lights, but they are well lit in this, the darkest part of the year.

These houses are typical of those in my area.

Squirrelhaven's modest display. One strand of solar lights on the tree is not working, but more on that in a later post.

I feared that the kids might be getting too old to enjoy the light display at North School Park. We haven't been there in a couple of years. I'm happy to say that I was mistaken. I didn't get to take many photos there because I was being pelted by snowballs.

That's the boy, heading for the wagon at the entrance. Long camera exposures at night are so interesting.

If you look carefully, you can see the headlights and tail lights of passing traffic behind the moving display of the rocking horse.

My favorite part North School Park was the different colored lighted Christmas Trees.

I can't decide which color I like the best.

For more holiday decorations, check out OOTS at Veg Plotting. And remember, from now on, the nights get shorter, and we're one more day closer to spring. Happy Solstice!

Frigid Friday: A Holiday Story

Cherry the squirrel munches on frozen crabapples after another night with with lows near 0F. The Mum has finally given up the ghost without its protective snowblanket. It's not as cold today, with the snowflakes dancing past my window.

Here's a bit of irony: deer tracks next to my wooden reindeer decoration.

I suspect the deer was looking to snack on my Hydrangea quercifolia 'Little Honey,' but was put off by the deer repellent I sprayed on it.

Out back, I found blood in the snow. It looks like some creature swooped down and scooped up and carried off some other creature for a meal.

I'm imagining one of the owls I hear occasionally, descending on some poor mouse, shivering in the cold. Death on a whisper of wings.

Seeing blood in the snow reminded me of Terry Pratchett's "Hogfather," a holiday story for those tired of sickly sweet, heartwarming holiday tales. The book is wonderful. If you don't have time to read it now, you could watch a DVD of the TV miniseries. In addition to poking lighthearted fun at Christmas (there's a wonderful send up of "A Christmas Story"), it also has a deeper message (several, in fact, including what it means to be human). But I don't want to spoil it. Read it or watch it. It makes a nice change of pace from "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer," or (heaven forbid) "Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer."

A Festive December Out On the Streets

VP, of Veg Plotting, has asked for festive photos Out On the Streets (OOTS), including one of the municipal Christmas tree. My town has two. This is the official one, complete with handmade ornaments. It looks like a real one to me. I find appalling the lack of bad taste in the local Christmas decorations. Not an inflatable snowman in sight, only tasteful containers outside businesses,

and greenery all around.

Here's a the flashiest bit I found.

I suppose the garlands are lit with tiny white lights at night, to match the lights on the streetlamp post containers.

No flashing neon lights, no Santa on the roof.

The resale shop is so subtle, it's nearly underwhelming.

There used to be a creche by the gazebo at the corner of Main Street,

but there is only a tree this year, and ribbons and lights. I wonder if they got tired of having baby Jesus stolen out of it every year. They always managed to get him back.

Even the residential decorations around here get no gaudier than lighted wire reindeer and polar bear figures. One must travel to Palatine and Arlington Heights to see truly entertaining Christmas displays. The updated edition of Mary Edsey's "The Best Christmas Decorations in Chicagoland" is out now, with photos and directions to see some truly awe-inspiring displays, including one in South Barrington with lights synchronized to music. I'm sure it's very tasteful. I hope to get out some evening to take photos of some residences, they really need to be seen after dark.

A Christmas Miracle for Bloom Day

On the 15th of every month, Carol, of May Dreams Gardens, asks everyone to show what is in bloom in our gardens, so we diligently search for signs of flowers. This is my first time in two years of blogging that I have blooms to show for a December Bloom Day, but that's not the miracle. The miracle is this (remember, a few days ago it got down to -2F/-19C here at Squirrelhaven):

it's the very last bloom on the Mum*. No, it's not super-Mum, and this isn't actually a "miracle"; it's overwhelming proof of the insulating power of snow. After a couple of days above freezing, the snow melted off the Mum, and I found it only slightly worse for the experience yesterday. Had the Mum not been covered by a good layer of snow during the sub-zero weather, it would now be a Mumsicle. (While the Mum is in a nice little microclimate, benefiting from the heat escaping the foundation of the house and the radiant heat from the bricks, that would not have saved it without the snow cover.)

Now that it's December, Chicago area gardeners move indoors for the season, to fuss over their houseplants. The Oxalis I brought in from an outside container has bloomed twice since it has come inside, but predictably, it is resting now. The big Pelargonium that survived last winter inside has just this single pseudo-umbel of blooms. (Thanks, Rose for that word. I told you I couldn't wait to use it.)

Considering my track record with houseplants, it's doing very well. It generally has at least one pseudo-umbel on it. Come on, say it with me: pseudo-umbel, pseudo-umbel. Isn't that fun? (Sorry, got a bit carried away there.)

I'm also impressed with a Coleus cutting I took from the one that grew in a front porch container. It rooted in water, so I potted it up. It is now starting to bloom.
I know, pretty paltry, and I'm probably going to cut the bloom stalk off now. But, hey, it's a bloom. It is December, after all.

What's blooming in your garden or house?

*I swear, this is the last time I will have the Mum in a Bloom Day post until next October at the earliest, and maybe not even then.

Frigid Friday

I have been guilty of minimizing the cold weather woes of gardeners in warmer climates. I apologize for my insensitivity, and promise never to use terms like "wimp" again, or make comments such as "You think that's cold? You should come to Chicago in January."

This change of heart occurred yesterday morning, when I was shocked to awaken to -2F/-19C. That's ice on my window.

I'm wearing two pairs of socks, leggings under my jeans and a wool sweater with a turtleneck underneath. That's in the house.

A little over a week ago, it was 55F/13C and the low was above freezing. The human body (at least this human's body) has difficulty adapting to such sudden temperature shifts. This made me realize that colder than normal feels mighty cold regardless of what one's normal is. Hearing about the damage caused by the cold and snow in Texas last week (see, e.g., From My Corner of Katy, Digging, and Zanthan Gardens), I also realized that a plant killed by 28F/-2C temperatures is just as dead as one killed by -20F/-29C. So if you need to commiserate, I'll be happy to listen. I will be sympathetic. I will be understanding. I will virtually pat your hand. I will be shivering. Leave me a comment or a link to a post about your bitter experiences.

I don't know what happened, this was supposed to be an El Nino winter, which are warmer and drier than normal around here, but it sure doesn't feel like one. Imagine me (or Rosemary Clooney and Bing Crosby if you prefer) singing to the tune of White Christmas:

I'm dreaming of an El Nino winter,

Just like the ones I used to know.

Where the Pansies flowered

under rain showers,

and I didn't have to shovel any snow.

hardly any snow

I'm dreaming of an El Nino winter,

one where my down coat won't be seen.

May your temperatures never be mean,

and may this year's Christmas be green.

1st Snowfall at Squirrelhaven

The first snowstorm of the season here in the Northwest suburbs of Chicago wasn't very impressive. The 1/4 inch that fell was barely shovelable, unlike the mess outside today, which I don't want to talk about. The Mum still had one last bloom, despite the snow, but even if I could find it now, I'm sure the show is all over.

The snow was so light and fluffy, it didn't stick much to the deciduous trees and shrubs, but it did look pretty on the Thujas.

This is 'Spring Grove,' hiding the compost area. Thujas are the Rodney Dangerfields of conifers, they get no respect, which is a shame. I value them for their individual beauty as well as for the backdrop they provide.

The Hakonechloa has faded to tan for the winter.

It always looks good.

The light snow made for clear tracks.

Can you tell who made them?

This post is part of Nancy Bond's First Snowfall Project at her blog, Soliloquy. Join in, it's even more fun than shoveling.

Why I Garden - Revisited

Although I wrote a post on this subject last year, I wanted to revisit it in light of a contest being held by Mary Ann (formerly of Idahogardener and now of Gardens of The Wild, Wild West). There will be prizes, so make sure you enter before December 21.

It's good to stop occasionally and ponder the why of it all, what is it about gardening that keeps me interested, involved, dare I say committed, to gardening after all these years, with no end in sight. It could be because the garden is always new and different, day to day, year to year, with changing conditions (e.g., suddenly more sun from a downed tree), new styles of planting and new plants to try.

Double black Peony-flowered Poppy, making its first, but not last appearance at Squirrelhaven

It never gets old and boring.

Gardening is my favorite form of exercise. Believe it or not, I'd rather spend all day pulling weeds or digging up concrete than go to a gym and walk on a treadmill or lift weights.

Gardening is an act of defiance against a mechanized world that increasingly disassociates itself from nature. It's about nurturing life: plant, animal and human.

It's about trying to compensate for the damage inflicted on our fragile, precious planet.

It's emotional therapy. Just wandering in the garden raises my spirits and heals my soul.

Gardening refreshes my sense of wonder. There's always something new and miraculous happening in the garden from the tiny sprouts pushing their way out of the earth from the seeds I've sown,

to a plant suddenly blooming out of season.

It's a connection to God, through the beauty of creation.

I can't paint or draw, so the garden is my way of expressing myself artistically, as a sculpture in a fourth dimension: time. Now that I've started welding, I want to make sculptures that function as a part of the garden, not something plopped into it. The garden is also my studio for photography. Plants don't complain that they don't want their picture taken, they don't make faces or get embarrassed when you show off their portraits. They don't run off to bark at a squirrel.

the neighbor's puppy, Stout

It's an act of faith in the future. Anyone who plants a tree is an optimist.

Gardening is a way to connect with other people. I may have nothing in common with someone other than gardening, and we can talk for hours. How else could I have flown across the country by myself to a place I'd never been (Austin, Texas) to be with people I'd never met (Spring Fling 2008) and had a fantastic time and made so many friends?

Diana (Sharing Nature's Garden), Layanee (Ledge and Gardens), Carol (May Dreams Gardens), Dee (Red Dirt Ramblings), Pam (Digging), Cindy (From My Corner of Katy) from Spring Fling 2009

How else could I correspond with people in other countries I've never visited, whose lives are so different from mine that they even use different words for things everyday things, like cookies?

I garden because I have to do so. I can't stop myself from gardening. I've actually found myself about to pull weeds in public gardens. I'm seriously addicted to plants, the acquisition of plants, the placement of plants, and the experience of plants. I like to smell them and touch them. I like to groom them, prune them, deadhead and dead leaf them. I can get into "the Zone" more easily while gardening than doing anything else.

But more than anything else, I garden for the anticipation. Looking forward to something is always better than the reality of having that thing.

Tree Peony (Paeonia suffruticosa) 'Ofujinishiki'

With gardening there is always something for which to look forward. It's what keeps us Northern gardeners going through the winter. That's reason enough to go on living, even when I get old and frail. I want to be like Katharine White, planting spring bulbs while dying of cancer, knowing she probably wouldn't live to see them flower, but hoping that she just might. And that's not a bad way to live a life. Why do you garden?