An Overwintering Experiment

The tiny, yellow-foliaged plant in the blue pot is a seedling of Talinum paniculatum 'Limon'. The pot is in my family room, by the patio door, nestled amongst other containers filled with plants that I hope to nurse through the long Midwestern winter. This is an experiment, as I have no idea whether this little plant will make it. I almost didn't bring it in before the killing frost because I had thought that Talinum paniculatum (Jewels of Opar) was an annual. What a delight to learn that it is actually a tender perennial. But before we get ahead of ourselves, let's go back to the beginning of the story.

Two years ago, I hadn't even heard of Jewels of Opar, until my friend and garden designer Mary Ann Newcomer (Gardens of the Wild, Wild West) mentioned that she loved this plant. I saw a picture and thought, yawn, blah, tiny airy-fairy thing. Fast forward to this spring, when I was wandering through my favorite local garden center, The Growing Place, when I spotted Talinum paniculatum 'Limon'. It was love at first sight. Lime-green, fleshy foliage, hot pink flowers, it was just what I needed to play off the magenta petunia and 'Electric Lime' coleus.

the pot just after planting

Perfection in a pot. I left the container on the potting bench for several days, during which one of the seed capsules must have burst and dropped seed onto the gravel below,

bloom and a ripening "jewel" on the potting bench

because in the middle of September, I spotted a couple of tiny, chartreuse sprouts. In the meantime, the container spent the summer out front.

The Talinum bloomed for a long time, but eventually, the heat, drought and my frequent absences signaled its decline. In October, I noticed that it was starting to stage a revival, but by then the seedling was a good size, so I replaced the original plant with the seedling. Somehow, my subconscious mind must have registered the fact that this plant wasn't acting like an annual, and the seedling looked so healthy and fresh, that I decided to bring it inside for the winter.

Note how the foliage is more yellow at the end of August.

I don't know if the seedling's foliage is more yellow than its parent because it is receiving less light, or because it might be the result of a cross with a yellow-foliaged cultivar. Hopefully, time will tell. For now it's fingers crossed and hope for the best.

Baptisia at the End

The Baptisia show is over for the year. After the foliage turned this lovely charcoal, the stalks broke off and blew away. I managed to catch them before they turned tumbleweed into the neighbors' yard.  Even without leaves, the stalks make an interesting dried arrangement.

This post is part of Wildflower Wednesday, sponsored by Gail of Clay and Limestone.

I'd normally do a Thanksgiving post, but I've run out of time and into computer problems. Happy Thanksgiving!

November Bloom Day in the Year of Endless Autumn

Campanula 'Sarastro'

Happy Bloom Day! Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day, hosted by Carol of May Dreams Gardens, provides the opportunity for showing what's in bloom on the 15th of every month. Normally, for November Bloom Day, I show a picture of everything that's still in bloom, as it is generally the last outdoor Bloom Day of the year here at Squirrelhaven. This year, however, so many things are still hanging on, that there are too many post. Despite several frosts and freezes and a few snowflakes, the afternoon temperatures have soared as high as 68F/20C in recent days, which is about 15 degrees above average. Among the sorely confused plants is this Campanula 'Sarastro,' which just started blooming again after a several-month sabbatical.

Campanula persicifolia 'Telham Blue'

This peach-leaved bellflower also decided to get in on the reblooming action.

Quite a few annuals are stubbornly refusing to go quietly into that long goodnight, including Diascia,

Last year at this time, Diascia had only a few blooms and yellow foliage.

Osteospermum,

and petunias.

Petunia 'Phantom'

In the "I'm not dead yet" category:

Hylotelephium species

this mystery sedum which was growing here when I bought the property, continues to bloom despite the coloring up of its foliage.

Malva sylvestris 'Zebrina'

The Malva are still forming buds and blooming, which is typical behavior, as are the continuing blooms of my favorite Geranium, 'Bob's Blunder'.

Geranium 'Bob's Blunder' is a wonder of orange and neon pink.

The last of the ex-asters, Symphyotrichum oblongifolium 'October Skies', still has a few buds waiting to open amidst the fallen leaves.

Symphyotrichum oblongifolium 'October Skies'

For the grand finale, in full bloom are Aster tataricus

showing bright autumnal tints in its foliage, which I can't recall it ever doing so vibrantly, and the mum.

Chrysanthemum 'Sheffield Pink' with a still-blooming Heuchera 'Citronelle' in the background.

What's still blooming in your garden today?


Also in bloom:
Anemone 'Andrea Atkinson'
Antirrhinum majus (snapdragon)
Callibrachoa 'Blackberry Punch'
Callirhoe involucrata
Dianthus 'Cranberry Ice'
Eurybia divaricata (white wood aster, with a few blooms left)
Geranium 'Blogold' (Blue Sunrise, with just one bloom)
Heuchera 'Raspberry Ice'
Knautia 'Thunder and Lightning' just starting to rebloom
Lavandula 'Hidcote'
Lobularia maritima (sweet alyssum)
Osteospermum 'Soprano Purple'
pansies
Rosa 'Carefree Beauty' (albeit damaged by frost)
Sedum 'Razzleberry'
Sutera
Tricyrtis 'Gilt Edge', 'Gilty Pleasure', and 'Tojen'
Viola hybrid
Viola labradorica
Viola sororia

The Last Garden Chore

Have you got all your leaves picked up and all your outdoor bulbs planted? That's great, but don't rest on your ... uh, laurels just yet. Not until you've tackled those weeds in the back corner of the garden or under the shrubbery. Here in Chicagoland, we've had an extended fall, with a few freezes, but many days of warm weather and periods of rain, the perfect conditions for weeds to make that last surge of growth before winter.

I was feeling smug, I am nearly done with planting the bulbs, and the leaves have been managed, but for some reason, I wandered down the short path to the fence that abuts the common area of the home owners' association next door. And what to my horror should I find? Not just flourishing weeds, but garlic mustard. But not just garlic mustard, oh no, this garlic mustard was in a healthy rebloom. Garlic mustard is an invasive exotic weed that crowds out woodland wildflowers and degrades habitats.

On the bright side, I could have used this image for tomorrow's Bloom Day post.

As the photo shows, the garlic mustard was on the other side of the fence, but within reach of my CobraHead Weeder. First, I whacked off the top and pulled it through the fence. Then I dug up as much of the roots as I could. It's possible that no pollinators have visited these flowers, but it's better to avoid the risk of more seeds. Even though some of the roots might remain, the weed has been weakened, and will be that much less vigorous come spring.
While I was at it, I removed arm fulls of creeping charlie and wild strawberries that had invaded from the other side of fence. The garden is now in good shape for winter, and my battle with the weeds will resume a little later next spring.

11/11/11: Happy Nigel Tufnel Day!

Geranium 'Gerwat' (Rozanne),  with foliage cranked up to 11.

One of my favorite films is the mockumentary "This is Spinal Tap."

image from IMDb

In one scene, Nigel Tufnel (Christopher Guest) shows off the one of the band's guitar amplifiers, the settings of which go up to 11, saying, "Look, right across the board, eleven, eleven, eleven."

image from Wikipedia

This is the source of the phrase "turning it up to eleven."
Here's wishing everyone a weekend that's one more than a 10.

The Last Rose

I don't understand all the fuss about "the last rose of summer." Because of the heat and periods of drought, this year the last rose of summer for this 'Carefree Beauty' was in June. No, for me, it's the last rose of autumn, the very last rose of the gardening season that is the one, and here it is. Tonight's forecast calls for a freeze, a 28F/-2C killer. This act may be ending, but the show goes on.

Why Would Anyone Want to Grow Hostas? Reason #7

Hosta 'Candy Hearts' in full autumn color with Corylus avellana 'Red Majestic'

I know there are native plant snobs out there, who would rather pave over their garden than plant Hostas. I am not one of them. It's hard to knock a plant that survives drought, deluge, heat, humidity and Zone 5 winters. It also has wildlife value, which I wrote about last year for Beautiful Wildlife Gardens.  As if all that isn't reason enough to grow them, they shine like beacons in the fall garden.

All year long, I mostly ignore Hosta 'Candy Hearts', but in October and November, it demands attention as its plain green leaves morph into sold gold. (See above image.) Even before the leaves fully turn, the rising autumnal hints of Hosta foliage coloration are entrancing.

Hosta 'Krossa Regal' reaching its full color potential.

Even chartreuse-foliaged cultivars turn a spectacular color.

Hosta 'Maui Buttercups' at peak coloration

While this is pretty special, the variegated Hostas can be even better.

Hosta 'Dream Weaver'

Hosta 'Olive Bailey Langdon' at peak color

Hosta 'Sweet Home Chicago'

There is one caveat - these leaves have been around all summer, so any damage from hail or slugs can mar the show. (None of these images have been altered.)

Hosta 'Striptease'

Although from a distance, the damage is easier to ignore,

Hosta 'Striptease in bottom right, with Cornus alternifolia in back

this is just another reason to see out slug-resistant cultivars, such as the unbeatable 'June',

among the last of the Hostas here at Squirrelhaven to start the autumn transformation. Some years, the show lasts longer than others, but inevitably, they all collapse to be tidied away for next spring.

Hostas 'Krossa Regal' in front and 'Olive Bailey Langdon' 

Helping Nature

While most gardeners are busy planting tulips and daffodils, I dug up and divided a congested clump of the native jack-in-the-pulpit,  Arisaema triphyllum. They had become too congested,

May 30, 2011

and were growing on top of one another. I could have just left them, and let Nature take its course, but this is a garden, where a little tweaking of nature is often necessary.

First I removed the fallen fruit stalks, and deposited them in an area where I'd like to have Arisaema growing.

I had neglected this task in previous years, which allowed the seeds to germinate too close to the mother plants.

Having ascertained the location of the plants from the fallen stalks, I then carefully excavated the area.

Only a few corms were damaged in the process, which yielded a good crop (top photo). I replanted only the largest of the corms in the hole.

The rest were stuffed into the ground in various locations throughout the woodland garden.

While the display next year will probably be anemic as the corms have been placed further apart, in future years, the display will once again be a spring and summer focal point.

June 16, 2009 with Hakonechloa macra 'Aureola'

Wordless Wednesday: Autumn Morning