The Garden Buzz

Lucky Shamrocks: Oxalis regnelli

Right now you can pick up these cute little green gems in garden centers, gift shops and the grocery store then pop them in a pot to celebrate St Pat's. They're the closest thing to four-leaf clovers.

When I think of oxalis, (what an ugly sounding name for such a charming plant), I think of the smaller, yellow blooming ones considered weeds in California, otherwise known as wood sorrel. I remember it always growing in orange groves when I was a child, and being told it was bad. I found it endearing. I also found a few four-leafed specimens.

This variety is non-invasive; it can mingle among houseplants inside, hang out on the shady porch come summer and in warmer climes be used as a living mulch for spring bulb flowers. Useful, yes. Lucky? I hope so.

Happy St. Patrick's Day from the Garden Buzz!!!
 

Oops! Correction to Proven Winners Post

In my haste to put out the Proven Winners post for Monday morning's e-mail bag, I left out important information.

"Snow Princess" is a Lobularia hybrid. "Pretty Much PIcasso" is a Petunia hybrid. Although it might seem obvious, those names looked naked without the actual plant species attached.

Sorry 'bout that.

So here's a bonus photo of another Proven WInners plant that is relatively new...

 

Anisodontea hybrid, Cape Mallow "Slightly Strawberry" (you'd think I was naming these, wouldn't you?), is a BIG plant, growing to 3' tall and 18" wide. The plants at the PW Extravaganza were easily that big, hogging the hallways where they sat.

I will admit I grew this last year, and badly. I don't think it was the plant at fault but the gardener. "Slightly Strawberry" prefers a cool night temp and average to dry soil, being drought tolerant once established. I love the mini-hollyhock look and will give it another chance.

If you purchase a Proven WInners plant and it doesn't grow well or dies, they will  reimburse you with what they call an "Oops Check", once. Check their website for further info.

And that's all the Oopsies for today.

Blooming New for 2010 From Proven Winners

The great thing about gardens is that no two are alike; they are as individual as the gardeners that tend them. Well, unless it is one of those fraidy-cat front-yards playing it safe with a formula of green grass, one tree and three foundations shrubs. But then maybe I shouldn't say that, those people might be busy finding the cure for cancer or feeding orphans, and not have the time for something frivolous like flowers.

For the rest of us Proven Winners is in the process of introducing new plants for 2010. They are especially excited about these two:

"Snow Princess" looks like alyssum, but unlike it, This souped-up specimen blooms vigorously throughout the season standing up to summer heat. It forms fragrant mounds of white frothy blooms that work well in hanging baskets, window boxes and all kinds of containers. In addition I'm glad to tell you it attracts butterflies.

"Pretty Much Picasso" is described as violet with lime green edging, although in person I felt it leaned more toward deep pink. You decide. It has a trailing growth habit. Once established it is both heat and drought tolerant and just like an oven, it is self-cleaning. Plant this novel number at the front of borders and containers so as not to lose the green accent. Butterflies and hummingbirds will love it too.

Granted, the Proven Winners Outdoor Living Extravaganza was quite different from the Wild Ones Native Plant Conference last week, but both were fun and informative in their own ways. Of course the PW people were in heavy marketing mode, but hey, plant breeders have to eat too.

Like a horticultural version of the Oprah show, we listened to experts tell us how to "garden our best garden" in between giveaways that had the female-dominated audience squealing with delight. I came home with lots of info, helpful and otherwise, a swag-bag of goodies and three free outdoor plants I have to keep alive in the house for two months.

After my native plant push of last week, you might say, what, how can you promote these flowers that have been monkeyed with and manipulated to bloom to be-jesus all season long without setting seed? Well, many people wouldn't bother to plant anything, if it wasn't easy and guaranteed to grow with minimal effort. And some garden is better than nothing at all.

When you consider it, these plants are "green" in another way. Strong, healthy, dependable, fabulous-looking flowers won't tempt weekend yard-warriors to over-water, over-fertilize and spray when heaven-help-us, a bug happens to land on a leaf for a moment. After some success, getting out in the garden might lead to bigger and better things; any time we can grow a gardener, it is a win-win.

Painting the Garden

It's the ever changing nature of nature that makes it so precious. It's human nature to want to capture it and keep it; to hold tight to its beauty and wonder.

We attempt this feat with various methods. A photograph can show us the color and texture of nature as light falls upon it. A pantry of jewel-tone jars glows with garden bounty, like summer in a bottle. Pressed plants preserve the shape and form of leaf and bloom in a flat plane. Dried herbs contain the tasty heat of a sunny day. Perfume is a distillation of the ultimate fantasy garden. How many other ways do we seek to save the garden's essence?

Sometimes the short-lived joy is a bouquet brought indoors. Take it one step further and paint it, freezing that moment when a flower is fresh, perfect. Flowers are probably the most oft-painted subject of such still lifes, yet not always done well.

I happened across a talented painter the other day and thought I'd share a sample of her work. Diane Hoeptner is from California but now lives and paints in Ohio. She worked as a digital animator in her past life, and now puts that knowledge to good use with her new objets d'art.

I have a soft-spot for artists, starving and otherwise. You see, my mother was a painter (among other passions) of sorts, selling her "paintings on the sidewalk" so to speak, while as a child, I played nearby. A painting sold meant my new shoes. Diane is selling her paintings on a website sidewalk as artists like her take to the global gallery of the internet.

She participates in a "daily painting" to develop and inspire her work, much like I blog to flex and build my writing muscles. You meet the nicest people while blogging. Enjoy her work and visit her website.

Tiarella: A Wee Bit O' The Green Poking Through the Snow

Ah! Spring in Minnesota; black snow, playing pothole slalom and the smell of hot asphalt in the air. It's a little early this year. I'm betting on one more blizzard, about April. Meanwhile, those of you in more southerly latitudes are posting and tweeting; the crocuses are blooming! the robins are singing! yeah, yeah, yeah, blah, blah, blah.

Me? I'm excited because I just saw a smidgen of green at my door, just in time for St. Patrick's Day. A leaf! Maybe more. The snow is melting, even the sedimentary layers on my deck that tell the story of early storms in October through bigger and better by December, until now. Other than soggy pine straw and anemic patches of lawn this is the first hopeful happening in my garden so far.

When I planted the 7 Tiarellas (Foam Flower) at the back-but-really-front door, it was a troublesome site, backed by a stone wall, probably 10 inches deep and 8 feet long, and not only narrow but a north-facing exposure. The variegated grasses had done a pathetic backwards stair step in height due to the increasing lack of light as you reach the door. Bare mulch or some kind of rock was the non-plant solution, but I thought I'd give it another try.

In spite of their cutesy name, "Sugar and Spice", the tiarellas called out to me in the nursery towards the end of the season. I love the dramatic leaf shape, deeply cut and bright green with a wine-red blotch for  more interest. Even better the pink and white frothy blooms of this native cultivar attract butterflies, while giving some height to the ground-hugging clumps of foliage. Their shade tolerance helped with the difficult place they were planted. Supposedly distasteful to rabbits, squirrels and deer, I think I'm going to like this perennial more and more.

I harrumphed when I read that the foliage is evergreen. I thought, yeah, and how does that work? But there it is peeking out of the snow, among the gelatinous mess of mulch and rotted plant matter, ready to roll. To think they have been sitting there all winter long, hidden.

But that isn't the only thing showing from under the snow. A few ghosts of holidays past, long buried by the Christmas Eve blizzard, have revealed themselves in recent days.

Remember the blue pumpkin from my Halloween posts?

One of the carolers that sat on the front porch by the Spruce Tips Arrangement the had disappeared in the storm.

For more signs of spring, read my "other" blog on the Star Tribune

Forcing Branches to Bloom: A Little Gentle Persuasion

There's nothing like a few sprigs of apple blossoms or forsythia flowers to chase away the last of the winter blues. It's easy to do and does wonders for your spirits. I had been eying the crabapple in our cul-de-sac. I just hadn't figured out how to scale the ice-crusted snow wall coming between us without breaking something. Like me.

I'll confess I purchased these pre-forced peach branches at the grocery store. I went in for a jar of mayo and they called out to me from clear across the deli. That's often how nice things happen, when you aren't seeking them out.

I think they make an interesting counterpoint to the icicles outside, don't you?
 

Although it does require sharp tools, forcing sounds violent, I prefer to think of it as persuading. Here are a few other candidates for this treatment.

• Honeysuckle
• Vernal Witch Hazel
• Dogwood
• Quince
• Almond
• Cherry
• Spirea

Prune budded branches carefully. Bring inside and trim to fit your container. Split the end about 4 inches, and then place under water to trim another inch. This keeps the branch from sealing, which reduces water uptake.

Place branches in warm water and indirect light, hopefully away from heat vents. It can take one to eight weeks to see flowers. Occasionally it fails, but you'll still get leaves at least. But at this point we can't be too picky.

"Only" 22 days until spring, hang in there!
 

What Does Snowboarding Have in Common with the Burpee Garden Catalog?

Absolutely nothing. But I was looking at them simultaneously yesterday, and I thought you'd appreciate the contrast. These mogul-hopping, mop-haired daredevils were braving the brutal arctic breezes, while juicy red tomatoes and gaudy striped petunias were leaping off the page at me. I wasn't watching the Olympics in my living room but sitting below a "mountain" in Minnesota, leafing through a garden catalog I found in the car, while my husband was kicking the tires on a rust-riddled '88 Beemer.

Now at this point someone might be tempted to say "Long story short".

But as anyone with southern roots might ask, "Now, why would you want to do that?" Besides, what if bloggers always kept their long stories short?  Where's the fun in that?

You see, my husband races cars as a hobby. No, not Nascar. He races old Porsches. Not vintage, just old. And with his globe-trotting job and all, you'd think that would keep him busy. But now he has discovered some "fun" race where you and a team of four, endurance-drive a car worth $500 or less. With this race there is a strong emphasis on frivolity and believe me, on that alone, he's already won the race.

So that brings us to Taylors Falls, MN on a Tuesday night, to the bottom of the ski hill where the car's most recent owner works. As we drove up Hwy 8, I was just tickled to see that every town we went through had a Swedish sister-city, and I loved how Lindstrom had an umlaut over its "o", almost as much as I loved its blue and white, teapot-shaped water tower. I half-listened as my husband assured me that there was only a 30% chance I would have to follow him the 90 minutes back home with this car. Yeah, sure.

 
Unusual offerings of African impatiens in the 2010 Burpee Catalog 

But back to the Burpee catalog...

In my mind I'm already planning the containers for the garden tour in July. Last summer I did a lot with flowers and foliage in orange, coral, yellows and lime greens; and I liked it so much I 'm going to do it again.  So I'm looking for new and exciting as well as old and reliable annuals in these same citrus shades for this upcoming event. However finding these sunset colors in shade tolerant plants is somewhat of a challenge.

 
Citrus colors in sunny containers from last year....The Garden Buzz

I do a lot of seeds usually, but to take out some of the guesswork and anxiety, I''ll work with nursery plants that are good-to-go.

With all the good garden centers in the greater Minneapolis area, why would I need mail-order plants? Well, sometimes when I have needed a large number or specific varieties at a certain time, I have found Burpee to be a source of exceptional quality plants. (BTW, that plug is unsolicited). That said, I am definitely ordering the following plants, and thought maybe you might want to consider them too.

• African impatiens "Blondie": Looking like little yellow orchids with just a touch of red, this a fairly new offering. It's a super-charged version of the jewel weed or wild impatiens I allow to take over the back garden here in late summer. Growing to 24", it should light up the shady spots.
• African impatiens "Fusion Peach Frost": Another interesting impatiens with shell-shaped blooms in variations of creamsicle peachy/orange. The kicker is the variegated leaf just touched with white on the edges.
• Begonia "NonStop Fire": If this grows half as well as Begonia "Bonfire", I'll be happy. Large ruffled flowers in coral/pink tinged with yellow, with triangular foliage on reddish stems.

Begonia "Bonfire" on fire next to "Tomaccio" cherry tomatoes

But my most fervent wish is for the local Home Depot to mistakenly stock a plant called Thyrallis glauca again. This zone 9 plant was labeled perennial and I'm sure it is....in Florida. With a shrub-like habit and pretty sprays of yellow blossoms on red stems, it was the serendipitous star of my front porch pots last summer.

.........As for the rest of the story, well, it's sitting in the driveway.

Am I Wrong About Amsonia: Great Native Plant or Perennial Flop?

The other day a popular garden blogger was lamenting not being able to grow amsonia in her garden, mentioning that it was to be the 2011 Perennial Plant of the Year (from now on known as POTY). All I could  remember was how liberated I felt the day I took a shovel to the amsonia growing all over the garden I had just acquired with our new house. So I jumped on that comment box, asking, "Am I the only one who hates amsonia?" Apparently so.

In my little mini-rant, I went on about amsonia's insignificant flowers of creepy blue and its floppy foliage. In minutes, impassioned gardeners were defending amsonia's honor and credentials as a worthy perennial and valuable native plant; citing its adaptability and drought-tolerance but mostly the gorgeous fall color that marks the season finale of this plant.

So I dug a little deeper so to speak. And then I felt a little silly. As an extension master gardener I am always preaching, "right plant for the right place". Could it be the amsonias in my garden were simply in the wrong place? Well, probably yes.

We bought this house with a foot of snow in the yard. But the brochure said, "Award-winning perennial garden". After buying houses (gardens) from people who planted silk flowers in the yard, and after selling houses (gardens) to people who didn't know a daisy from a dahlia; that was all I needed to hear. What they didn't tell me was that the award was probably given 20 years ago! When the landscape thawed I was literally up to my ears in Joe-Pye Weed (don't get me wrong, I love Joe, but enough is enough), while whatever perennials left were overshadowed by this overgrown plant I had never encountered. It turned out to be amsonia.

A little strip of it was planted in a long narrow bed by the back door, that is really the front door, in a northern exposure. This amsonia failed to bloom and flopped to the ground mid-summer, long before the foliage could turn any color. But the bulk of it in the backyard had bullied the astilbes and astrantias into submission and was threatening to take on the lawn. This area sees only slivers of sun at varying times as the light falls behind the woods in back and then the cottonwoods to the west.

As with many gardens, as they age, shade encroaches, change is inevitable. I am sure the original owners did indeed have an award-winning perennial garden. Shame on the last owners for neglecting it. Shame on me for bad-mouthing amsonia.

Amsonia does grow in partial shade, but it grows best in full sunlight. And therein was the problem. Not only does it bloom more bountifully, but the unusual shade of blue shows better in bright light. And when positioned just right, the sun illuminates the fall foliage until it glows golden.

 

In addition, the POTY Amsonia hubrichtii is a variety called "Arkansas Blue Star", selected for soft blue flowers and bottle-brush bright green foliage that turns into a rich golden yellow as fall approaches. Check out "Blue Ice" as well.

Since I had, in a feverish frenzy, dug up and disposed of all the amsonias in my garden, I had to borrow a few photos. How embarrassing.

So I stand corrected, too bad my amsonias are long-gone to the municipal compost heap. But meanwhile, repeat after me...Right Plant for the Right Place.

It's easy to subscribe to The Garden Buzz, just enter your email in the FeedBurner blank and it will be delivered to your inbox, rain or shine. Your email address will not be shared.

 

Garden Blogger's Bloom Day: February 15, 2010

Kalanchoe "Petero"     The Garden Buzz

Although I am only growing snow, I decided to participate for the first time in Garden Blogger's Bloom Day. On the 15th of every month, garden bloggers around the world post pictures of what's blooming in their gardens. It seems like the neighborly thing to do, now that I feel like a full-fledged garden blogger. Plus, there's the alliteration, and you might have noticed, I'm all over that.

I had to find something blooming inside this time.  My indoor collection has grown this year; normally not fond of houseplants, I've allowed a few ivies and a feather fern to live with us, and beyond that I have to say the terrariums are terribly fun.

Along with some other succulents I'm overwintering in the laundry room with the lovely light, this kalanchoe has been recuperating. He's had a rough winter; during the holidays, he was sitting on a fern-stand in the bathroom, minding his own business, when my husband startled the dog, who likes to chew on our socks there in private. (I hope I got that punctuation right, if not, please note, the dog was the one chewing on socks) When all the commotion had ceased; the fern stand was in pieces, my favorite green pot in shards, and the kalanchoe up-ended with all his potting soil askew. 

I had to trim off all the orange flowerlets and prune off the damaged leaves. Then I took him to the laundry room to let him regain his composure. So a month later, the blooms were a big surprise. Granted they are only on the lower lateral shoots, but still.

Kalanchoes are succulent plants native to Madagascar, discovered in the 1700's by some brave but anonymous plant explorer. More popular as a potted plant in Europe than America, I think they deserve more consideration. They come in yellow, orange, red and many shades of pink. I like that when the  clusters of flowers are gone, the fleshy, scalloped leaves are still attractive. Being a succulent, they tolerate the desert-like dry conditions of our house in winter. And unless they are thrown to the ground, seem to thrive on benign neglect.

There are all sorts of convolutions necessary to get light sensitive plants, like Kalanchoe to re-bloom. It involves covering them at night with a dark cloth among other things. I mean, really? Instead, this summer I plan to place the Kalanchoe on the porch with all the other succulents. They thrive in the eastern exposure and afternoon shade. I find that this and/or bringing them back indoors in fall seems to trigger blooming in quite a few. As for the timing, heck, I like surprises.

Something Old, Something New for Valentine's Day: Bleeding Hearts

I hate to disappoint anyone. I was going to title this post with some of the quaintly descriptive names of Dicentra spectabilis, otherwise known by the tragically romantic moniker, "Old-Fashioned Bleeding Hearts". But then I remembered the unsavory search words that appeared in my referrals when I did a blog about appreciating and harvesting rose hips. It seems some people that like Big Hips aren't seeking out gardening advice.

I guess we've all had it happen. You look up "juicy fruit" and get more than apple trees and gum. You fancy raising poultry and google "baby chicks" and get a different type of scantily-clad bird.

I can see the reason for names like "Chinese Pants". Nonetheless, I can't wait for my bleeding hearts to bloom again so I can check if you really see a "Lady-in-the-Bath" when you turn the purse-shaped flower upside-down and pinch the puffy part.

Bleeding Hearts is an herbaceous perennial, hardy to zone 3, a beloved garden flower that comes back again and again, blooming faithfully in late spring.

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY from THE GARDEN BUZZ!!! 

However in Kansas I only had a nodding acquaintance with them. Like dainty women of yesteryear, they get the vapors at the slightest hint of hot summer-heat, their fern-like foliage going dormant and doing a disappearing-act. There they bloomed in those few weeks they call spring,( you can tell by the tornadoes). Then it was "quick, get me a fainting couch" and they were done.

In my northern garden, they are a much more prolonged presence; I can see why they are recommended as a long-lasting cut flower. Their only downfall, the hollowish brittle stems that fail to stand up to the watering hose, my own heart breaking every time I turned to see another fatality. Note to self: Plant them further back in the border. Although the chains of locket-like blossoms did look adorable dangling over the path.

A native to Asia and certain parts of North America, Bleeding Hearts does well in moist, humusy but well-drained soil and partial shade, making it the perfect flower for lighting up woodland plantings and shady spots. Plan for its annual leave-taking by pairing it with later emerging hostas, ferns and geraniums.

Consider also Dicentra spectabilis "Alba", this white version is a little less vigorous but deserves a place in the garden. Beyond these basic varieties:

• Candy Hearts, with longer flowering, stronger pink blooms
• Burning Hearts, almost red with a white outline
• Gold Heart, with lime/yellow foliage and reddish stems
• Fringed Bleeding Hearts, white fringed blooms with gray-green lacy foliage
• King of Hearts, prolific but sterile flowers

We sometimes pooh-pooh popular plants, thinking they are too easy. But sometimes easy is just what we need. And then there's the 1898 catalog description of Bleeding Hearts; "cheap, common but very charming". What will the search engine do with that?