Gaillardia: My favorite yellow in the garden

POSTED BY KIM — Do you see why I love this flower??  It is mid-November and this plant is going gangbusters.  This particular cultivar is ‘Oranges and Lemons,’ my favorites.  It blooms like an annual — this flower is never *not* in bloom.  And there’s no need to deadhead — the seedheads provide fantastic interest all in themselves.

The secret to successfully growing blanket flower is well-drained soil, so if you live in St. Louis, watch your clay.  Also, it blooms best in full sunlight.

I dare you to not love it!

See? Little seedheads...

 

What is the weirdest thing you’ve ever unearthed in your yard?

POSTED BY KIM — I do a lot of digging in my yard.  I install plants.  I move plants.  I move plants again.  Dig dig dig.  And over the years, I’ve unearthed some pretty interesting things.  The quartz thing in the picture above was found in the bed by my front door.  I was removing ROCK that had been spread several inches deep over the entire bed, and as I reached real soil, I stumbled on to this gem.

I don’t know what it is, but it’s kind of sparkly, so I cleaned it up and now it’s in my living room as a bookend. 

I’ve also uncovered, over the years:

• Coins (mostly pennies)
• Nails (lots of nails!)
• Army men
• Metal toy cars
• A small statue of St. Joseph (head down, natch), I assume buried by a past homeowner who was trying to sell the house (FYI, I reburied it)
• A golf ball

The golf ball was one of my favorite finds, because I was digging underground about 10″-12″ when I first spotted it and thought it was a turtle egg!  We have an active turtle population in our neighborhood, and I’ve been lucky enough to watch a turtle lay eggs in my backyard and see the babies hatch.  So I was quite surprised, then disappointed, then tickled when I realized it was a golf ball, because I know exactly who buried it there. My 10-year-old goofball son!

What is the weirdest thing you’ve ever unearthed in your yard??

‘Abraham Darby’ goes out with a bang

POSTED BY KIM — Is this not the most beautiful rose you’ve seen in your LIFE?!  ‘Abraham Darby’ is the only climbing rose I have at the moment, and right now, it’s spectacular.  I could see this bloom from my bedroom window and I had to take a picture of it.

‘Abraham Darby’ is a David Austin rose.  Mine is 3-4 years old, and it’s always bloomed wonderfully with much neglect from me.  In fact, I hadn’t even staked it until this year — I just let it sprawl where it wanted to.  (Now I have a pretty obelisk and I’ve tied it up — like I know what I’m doing.)  It also has a wonderful fragrance.  Include one of these blooms in a flower arrangement and listen to everyone gasp.

(FYI — this from Wikipedia about Abraham Darby, the man:  “Abraham Darby made one of the first and most important steps in the Industrial Revolution. His method of smelting iron provided abundant supplies of the raw material that the Industrial Revolution needed most. Iron from his process went into steam engines, bridges, all of the inventions of the 19th century. Smelting coal with charcoal would not have supplied iron in sufficient quantities to meet the requirements of the Industrial Revolution.”) Who knew!?

I did have a ‘Zepherine Drouhin,’ known for its thornless qualities and its ability to take some shade, but it only blooms once a year — for a week or two in the spring — and then it gets heavily infected with black spot.  What a train wreck!  So I pulled mine out and replaced it with a Mutabalis rose, also known as the Butterfly Rose, because as the pink flowers open and age, they turn different colors — pink, salmon, apricot, yellow — and it gives the effect of butterflies around the plant.    It’s quite happy — but just to be sure it STAYS that way, I’ve fenced it off with chicken wire.  The rabbits eat my roses in the winter, so I have to stay vigilant.

Here is info on the Missouri Botanical Garden website about winterizing roses.

The beautiful — and frustrating — corydalis

POSTED BY KIM — Have you ever planted a perennial that died, so you planted it again, and it died again? So you planted it again?…  How many times are you willing to buy the same plant before you realize that no matter *how much* you love it, this plant just isn’t going to make it in your garden?

Some customers refer to this phenomenon as the “Three Strikes You’re Out” rule of gardening.  If they really love a plant, they’ll give it three tries before finally wising up — and giving up.

Corydalis is one of those plants that may require multiple tries before you find the spot where it’s happiest.  Which is ironic — and frustrating — because it has self-seeded at Sugar Creek Gardens and is growing along the foundation of the gift shop.  We can have a dozen pots in the shade house limping along, but walk outside and look under some racks and WOW! the corydalis is so beautiful it’s ridiculous.

Here’s my story: I loved the delicate foliage on this airy little groundcover, and its yellow flower blooms almost non-stop throughout the growing season, so I bought one and put it in just the perfect spot in my garden (MY IDEA of the perfect spot — not the plant’s). And it died.  So I tried it again.  And it died again — but not before re-seeding a few feet away.  The new plant was very happy along the foundation of my house where it’s nice and dry.  So I gave up and just let it be, and for a few years it was okay.

Then a few months ago, I lost a dogwood tree that was very near my corydalis.  When I had the tree removed, it opened up that space quite a bit and allowed in more indirect sunlight — and my corydalis EXPLODED!  So I’m enjoying this happy accident. 

Corydalis is around to keep gardeners like me humble.  And sometimes frustrated.  But I’ll enjoy it more because of that.

I just noticed the bug in there -- ??

Gifts of the Season

POSTED BY CALEB

I was walking back from a music test at 8:30 in the morning a few days ago when I was forced to stop, rub my eyes, and wonder if I was dreaming. A large patch of purple irises was in full flower at the edge of a parking lot. The sun had not yet risen high enough to warm their petals and coax out that marvellous grapey-licorice scent, but when I returned later in the day, the air was filled with their lovely fragrance. Reblooming iris are well-known for failure to perform as promised, but these actually did what they were supposed to. A pleasant surprise – it felt like May in November.

While I usually fit in well with my friends here at school, there are moments when I realize that I have a little different perspective. One such was the moment when I realized that it might possibly be seen as just the tiniest bit odd to be crouched down in the center of the sidewalk photographing an acorn. But isn't it a marvelous object?

I'm not sure what species of oak is dropping these acorns, but they're amazing. That furry ruff has fairy garden potential...

50 Ways to Kill a Slug

POSTED BY KIM — I found this silly little book sitting around the office last week, and after flipping through it, decided it might be worth a second look.  The illustrations are really cute — this would make a great holiday gift for the gardener who has everything (even slugs)!

There are some great ideas in here – and some not so practical.

Some good:

• Dust your plants and surrounding soil with diatomaceous earth.
• Fill a shallow container with beer, cola, or coffee. Check the container the next day and dispose of any dead bodies.
• After you eat a grapefruit, place the halves in the garden. Wait a few days and check — they should be loaded with feasting slugs. Dispose.

Some (in my opinion) not-so-good:

• Put petroleum jelly around the base and tops of your plant containers.  They won’t be able to make it to the top.
• Go out at night with a flashlight and chopsticks and pick them off individually. Dispose.
• Get a bunch of chickens. They eat slugs.

And as page 94 says, if all else fails, go out at night with this book in hand, find a slug, and give it a good wham! with the book. Wipe the cover. Success!

Fall color: Not all hydrangeas are created equal

The majestic oakleaf hydrangea.

POSTED BY KIM — You’ll have to humor me.  It’s one of my last chances to write about hydrangeas this year, since they’re all getting ready to drop their leaves.  I’m always adding new hydrangeas to my garden (and this means pulling out and pitching hydrangea “dogs.” I recently gave ‘Penny Mac’ the heave-ho because it was the ugliest, mildew-iest, least-flowering hydrangea in my garden — and that’s saying a lot).

I’m also embarrassed to admit that I pulled out my ‘Lemon Daddy,’ a much sought-after cultivar because of its lemon-yellow foliage. I threw it out because earlier, I had been working in an area of that bed and I STEPPED ON IT, breaking every single branch. <picture me smacking myself in the forehead.>  It might have eventually recovered, in a few YEARS, but I decided I needed that spot for a new hydrangea (‘Invincibelle Spirit,’ natch), so I just threw it out.

ANYWAY, some of my hydrangeas are *spectacular* right now.  I always love a plant that gives me an extra season of interest, so it’s worth noting those hydrangeas that go above and beyond the call of duty.

Hydrangeas: I salute you. 

Not a shrub, but still a hydrangea! Hydrangea anomala petiolaris, the beautiful climbing hydrangea, showing its beautiful fall color. (Note: this specimen is 4 years old and still hasn't flowered. But it's worth the wait.)

Hydrangea 'Angel Smile,' a catalogue buy. Again, it's never bloomed -- it's probably a zone too cold in St. Louis. But I keep wrapping it in burlap hoping! And look at that fall color!

A mystery hydrangea, maybe 'Tokyo Delight.' When we installed the new rock wall along the drive at Sugar Creek Gardens, the girls took home a lot of the plants in the bed. There was a small stub of root from a hydrangea, and Roxanne handed it to me and said "Here, take this home and stick it in the ground." Voila!

A close up of 'Tokyo Delight.' Yes, that is a flower bud!

Again, the oakleaf hydrangea. Can't get enough of them...

Hydrangea 'Lady in Red.' NASTY! I don't know what happened here -- it's normally one of the most beautiful fall hydrangeas, but it looks more like 'Skanky Lady.'

I have a rogue crocosmia

Blooming in early November -- *watch out!!*

POSTED BY KIM — I love crocosmia.  When my husband and I went to England a few years ago, I was surprised to see it all over the countryside.  It has such a tropical look — it was kind of funny to see it in the middle of these English cottage gardens.

I’ve got a few different varieties in my garden, but this one is ‘Lucifer.’  And it’s blooming *right now* — about 3 months after its first set of flowers.  Shocking!

A close up.

Crocosmia — which actually start as bulbs — bloom best in full sun, with well-drained soil.  ‘Lucifer’ grows to about 3′ tall, and it’s a real hummingbird favorite.  They are somewhat prone to spider mites, so pre-treatment is recommended.

Another really popular crocosmia we sold this year was ‘Limpopo.’  (Below.)  The picture doesn’t do it justice!

For gardeners with money to burn: The time-lapse video camera

POSTED BY KIM — My husband sent me this link some time ago, and I return to it occasionly when I consider how I would spend any money I win in the lottery (note: I don’t buy lottery tickets, so I assume I will find the winning ticket on the ground or something — I haven’t worked that part out yet).  This is a time-lapse video camera developed by Hammacher Schlemmer.

It can be yours for only $159.95! (An additional $6.95 gift wrapped.)

Mounted on a post, you put it in a fixed place in your garden, and it snaps pictures throughout the season so you can see flowers open and close, rabbits eating your roses, kids tromping through your vegetable garden, etc.

Here’s a video clip to whet your appetite.

It can take and store up to 18,000 images!  Withstand temperatures between 122 degrees F and 14 degrees F!  A light sensor that turns the camera off at dusk, and back on at dawn!

I’ll let you know as soon as the lottery committee contacts me…

Amaryllis care and feeding

POSTED BY KIM — It’s amaryllis season!  I asked my neighbors Peter and Renate yesterday about the status of their beautiful red amaryllis, which they had in their front window last year (and I enjoyed for several weeks from the view at my kitchen window).  They weren’t familiar with the forced dormancy period required to stimulate new blooms, so let me pass along what I’ve learned:

1.  When you get a new amaryllis bulb, as many people are doing right now, plant it according to the illustration below.  Instead of compost, regular potting soil will work fine.

 

2.  Place the pot in bright, indirect light. Water sparingly. After the bulb blooms and the flower withers, cut it off just in back of the bloom, removing the green lump in back of the blossom.  You don’t want the flower to waste energy forming seeds.  

When all blooms on the top of the main stem are spent and removed, cut the main stem off 2 inches above the bulb. Keep the pot in the same light situation and allow leaves to grow — this will send nutrients to the bulb.

3.  In the summer, the bulb can be moved outdoors.  Either pop it in the ground, or let it remain in the container.  Amaryllis like to be root-bound, so don’t worry about repotting.  Water and fertilize as you would any flowering plant.

4.  Lift the bulb or bring back indoors *before* the first frost of season.  Remove any dead leaves.  For the bulb to flower again, you must force the plant into dormancy.  Put the potted amaryllis in a cool (55 degrees F), dimly-lit place such as a cellar or heated garage for 6-8 weeks. Don’t water.

5.  End the dormancy period 6-8 weeks before you want the flowers to bloom.  Bring it out, water thoroughly the first time, then sparingly after that.  You start the bulb “life cycle” here, treating it as you would a newly purchased fall amaryllis bulb.

6.  Enjoy!

For more detailed amaryllis growing instructions, you might want to check out this article.