The Garden Buzz

Props to a Great Shrub, Daphne "Carol Mackie", Literally and Figuratively

What an awkward but accurate title for this post. 

You see, it's been almost a year since the "oatmeal snow". That's how I heard it described when I came back into town after a short trip last November. And then I looked out the bathroom window and wondered why I could see that white house across the pond better than ever before.

This early snow had been wet and heavy, with a consistency like concrete. It crushed the beautiful lilac tree that graced the space out my bathroom window, whose arching limbs formed an umbrella of lavender blooms every spring. With its limbs cracked and splayed from the center, there was no coming back.

But what about the daphnes? Five shrubs, partly the shrub backbone of the courtyard garden, their light gray limbs bent and broken. I imagined digging them out and waiting for something new to fill in the holes in this very visible garden.

Daphne "Carol Mackie" didn't start out as one of my favorites, actually finding her way to my garden by way of a local garden designer. But then I came upon scenes like this..

And this...

How could you not love foliage like that? Blue-green with a gold band that became more cream into the season. Just enough variegation to define itself from the green uni-blob of summer. But enough variegation to light up a shady spot. Oh, and the flowers, not insignificant, not inconsequential, but more lke a bonus, pale pink to white fragrant clusters in early to late spring. 

Closeup daphne blossoms

As the winter went on and became the fourth snowiest one on record, the snow continued to pile up. And without anywhere else for it to go, the damaged daphnes disappeared under the growing heaps. 

When I first moved here I was intrigued by trees that were bowed to the ground. How I wondered could a tree just lean over and form a semi circle with itself. While some snap with the weight of snow and ice, others bend until they meet the earth again making arboreal arcs in the forest. 

When the snow finally melted mid-April, I could see the daphnes were nowhere as near as charming as these curving trees. In fact they dragged down the entire garden design with their crippled posture and lack of leaves. I made plans to replace them. Often labeled as hardy to zone 5, maybe they weren't meant to be in Minnesota.

I'd like to say it was a "wait and see" approach that saved them, but it was more like a "didn't get around to it" reprieve. 

Then two things happened. As the time came near to have the lilac tree removed, a few faint blossoms appeared on the daphnes, the pink flowers the same shade as apple blossoms I thought. Tired of being impaled by the lilac branches across the path, I got out the pruners and started trimming. I lopped off one that formed a perfect "Y". And then I thought, why not. Why not make crutches like the ones they use in apple orchards for ancient trees?

Y-Shaped "Crutches"

I loved the idea of recycling one plant to help another, but in this case, one tree to help five shrubs. It seemed fitting. Even though at the time I didn't think it would work completely.

Nonetheless I fashioned a number of these crutches, little ones and big ones, short one and tall ones, and positioned them under all the daphnes at various points, forcing the branches upwards but not too far. 

Lo and behold as the summer progressed, it became evident my little plant support operation was a success, and one of the more gratifying gardening experiences I've had lately.

Coffee No, Cappuccino Yes, Rudbeckia That Is

I'm not at all about coffee, no matter how macchiato, but I'm all over this new perennial, Rudbeckia "Cappuccino". 

Rudbeckia "Cappuccino"                                                  The Garden Buzz

Every year Renee's Seeds offers a selection of free seeds to garden writers, it's a generous gesture with no strings attached. They do hope if we find something that wows us, we will write about it. Well here goes...

I planned to get back into seed starting in a big way this year. Going back to my roots you might say. As life has gotten busier and more complicated, I've turned to nursery-grown plants more and more. Yet I missed the thrill of coaxing tiny seeds into beautiful flowers and vegetables.

I asked my husband to construct a simpler version of my old seed starting set-up. He put together an inexpensive metal shelf with flourescent lights and voila, I was back in business.

Of course, I tried to restrain myself but as always my eyes were bigger than the time and space I had in the garden. This is nothing new to gardeners growing from seed. Furthermore I had to leave town several times and ask my son to water the seedlings. Although he watched over them faithfully some suffered from overcrowding, but this Rudbeckia was unfazed. 

In the meantime, the place I had planned to plant "Cappuccino", a new berm, wasn't finished yet, so as they grew bigger, stockier and full of buds, I put them in temporary holding pots that received sporadic care while other life-y things happened. 

With more traveling to do, I decided not to do any fall containers. But a trip to the nursery for shrubs found me wandering into the discounted tropical plant area, you know, those 75% off, sad-plant, orphanage-like, no man's land populated with crispy bougainvilleas and yellowing ficus trees (I bought one and now it's thriving).

Looking perfectly healthy and happy, some Heavenly Bamboo with alternately blue-gree and apricot foliage beckoned to me, and I could swear I heard them saying, wouldn't we look great with those rudbeckias and that millet you bought too many of too?

Cappuccino with friends                    The Garden Buzz

I had never bonded with my large summer entry containers, so I was easily swayed. Keeping the helichrysum and huecheras, then adding the bamboo, millet and rudbeckias, gave me a late summer to autumn transition that makes me smile each time I pull in the driveway now. And eventually they will get planted in the new berm.

The point of all this:

Rudbeckia "Cappuccino" is a gorgeous large-flowered rudebckia that comes in a mix of lovely russet, gold and mahogany with a chocolate brown center. The compact plants are dominated by the prolific blooms. It is drought tolerant, and in my yard, even neglect-tolerant, holding up to wind and less than regular watering. Butterflies love it. Best of all, they are in the easy category for seed starting, and that isn't always the case with perennials.

A much better value than Starbucks and calorie-free to boot.

Pleasant Surprises and News of the Strawberry Fields Project

Pulling into the driveway on Saturday I expected to find my garden all turned to black mush after the predicted freeze. Instead I found the garden much like I left it, only a little more mellow from autumn's first chilly weather. And other pleasant surprises...

The rampant Virgin's Bower had draped the William Baffin roses and Tollymore spruces with thousands of white star-shaped blooms. That wine-red dahlia finally flowered.The PeeGee Hydrangea panicles had taken on more of that soft shade of vintage rose. The zinnias were still blooming and taller than ever, and without any deadheading, lots of those spent flowers with that yellow corona to lend interest. Best of all, Monarch butterflies fluttering all around them.

With frantic cross country instructions for my husband to pick all the tomatoes left, I had a counter full of Costoluto Genovese, Cherokee Purple and Clear Pink heirlooms. 

Down in that low spot where the Heritage raspberries thrive on benign neglect I spied ripe berries, enough to fill a good-sized bowl. 

If you've been following the great strawberry growing challenge of the summer, you know no one can pick a strawberry without keeping count. Even though the contest ended, my husband reported 30 more smaller berries from the three, now tattered and exhausted  Stark Tribute plants. Enough little gems to combine with the raspberries for a rustic berry tart.

And...speaking of the Corona Tools Strawberry Fields Project, the most pleasant-est surprise was the small white box waiting for me. YES! I won the iPad. I found out at the GWA conference but was afraid to say anything until I saw it. I can't wait to get it "initialized" and start exploring all of its iPadian wonders.

I thought for sure my formidable competition, fellow garden blogger, Shawna Coronado would be the winner. With her winning smile, abundant energy and huge following, she is a force to be reckoned with. The Corona Tools people tallied all the criteria and found us in a dead heat. They flipped a coin and I got lucky. So here's a tip of my gardening hat to Shawna.

Thanks so much to the good folks at Corona Tools. What a fun challenge, I learned a lot myself while teaching others to grow food in the smallest of spaces.

Thanks to Stark Bros for donating the Tribute strawberry plants as well. For many years I drove past Stark Bros in Louisiana, MO on my way to visit family. On the hill is a white barn with a painted black bear, proclaiming Stark Trees Bear. That's so true.

And damn, if those strawberry plants don't have a dozen more larger berries (and many babies) ripening as I write!

 

Garden Bloggers Bloom Day: September 15

There's not a lot blooming here in Savannah on my last day of this working vacation. Here and there you might see some blue plumbago or shrub sized lantana giving it a go. Of course it's still fun to go "courtyard snooping".

Hidden Savannah Courtyard                                                 The Garden Buzz

When I return to Minnesota there will be even less. Tonight there's a freeze, not a frost, warning. I know! Can you believe it?

My husband has been charged with bringing in houseplants and picking those tomatoes I planned to harvest next week. Oh well.

So Savannah is looking a little toasted after the long hot summer and it will be a few weeks before they start adorning it with all the fall regalia. 

Waning afternoon light at the Sorrell-Weed House                       The Garden Buzz

I did do a little gardening here. I helped my daughter pot up all her free sample plants from the Garden Writers Symposium in Indianapolis. Who knows she might be a gardener yet.

Hannah accompanied me to the GWA Symposium for two reasons; she's a food blogger and she wanted to see how garden writers approach their work and second, we were traveling onward to see her brother in Cleveland. The valets at that hotel were probably wondering about the slightly musty-smelling mini-forest in the back seat.

Since I live in zone 4 and she lives in zone 8b, she took both of the Bikini Tini Elephant Ears. They'll be perennials at her little carriage house apartment. This cute little colocasia with dark stems and smaller cupped leaves is part of the Tropi-cool series from Plants Nouveau, hardy to zone 6. Gee, I remember zone 6 like it was yesterday and all I ever did was push that zone. That grass is always greener, no matter where we live. 

But the best part about this petite elephant ear is what happens with rain or even dew...

Raindrop in Colocasia Elephant Ears "Bikini Tini" from Plants Nouveau                     The Garden Buzz        

Can you imagine when there are multiple leaves on a more mature plant? I can't wait to get some of these for next year. Because after that freeze warning, that's all I have left. Next year. 

Happy Garden Bloggers Bloom Day. And thanks as always to Carol of May Dreams Gardens for hosting this great event each and every month.

 

Stump the Garden Blogger: Plant ID Please?

It's not often I run into a plant I can't identify. Especially an edible.

During our visit to the Slow Food Garden in Indianapolis, they challenged us to identify some of the unusual crops growing in this urban setting, no problem though, I know what okra and peanuts look like, even when they are growing with a backdrop of skyscrapers.

Funny, that later on in the trip, it would be a restaurant kitchen garden that would stump this garden blogger.

On our last evening in Cleveland we ate at the charming Lolita in the Tremont neighborhood, an offshoot of the popular restaurant, Lola. There by the patio grows a lovely potager with tomatoes, eggplant and lavender among other things. On the left hand side of this photo is the vegetable (perhaps fruit or herb) in question.

It has large leaves and a small green pod that resembles a small unripe tomato. I'm sure I could eventually ID this mystery plant. However I just returned from visiting my son's new school and still have two more kids and their accompanying crap to leave at schools across the country. I'm hurting for time.

Stay tuned for unexpectedly fascinating garden stories from Cleveland (who knew?) and the Garden Writers Association symposium in Indianapolis.

Meanwhile, what the heck is it???

Mexican Sunflowers: Carrying a Torch for Tithonia

I'm always stumped when asked to name a favorite flower. It's usually whatever is blooming at the moment. Of course, it's kind of like being asked to name a favorite child. And just for the record, I love both of mine equally for their equally different charms.

Mexican Sunflower, Tithonia rotundifolia, "Torch" with bee       The Garden Buzz

However this year, my choice is simple. The Mexican Sunflower, Tithonia rotundifolia, wins hands down, for ease, color, form, foliage and wildlife value. This bright beauty is a member of the daisy family, but it's more bodacious, with flaming orange flowers and striking green foliage. Depending upon your height preference there are three varieties from which to choose; "Torch", the tallest at 4-5 feet, "Sundance" at 3-4 and finally "Fiesta del Sol" at 2-3 feet. There's even a yellow Torch available now.

Potato-leaf shaped foliage is attractive too.

Tithonia is an annual flower that's easy to start from seed, growing best in full sun. It makes a great cut flower or container specimen as well. 

Artsy image of black swallowtail and tithonia                The Garden Buzz

Beyond it's dramatic beauty and statuesque shape, the greatest thing about Tithonia is what it brings to the garden...butterflies, bees and hummingbirds! Not many flowers draw all three in such numbers. And don't forget the goldfinches that perch on its sturdy branches to munch on the attractive seedheads.

Sturdy stems with raindrops

Plant Tithonia and I guarantee you will have a garden buzzing with lively visitors.

Another swallowtail visitor on Tithonia "Torch"         The Garden Buzz

 

Welcoming wildlife into your garden is so rewarding, you might want to check out my latest Star Tribune article, Planting for Pollinators, for more tips toward making a wildlife haven. 

Garden Bloggers Bloom Day: August 15, 2011

I'm going to go off the garden path this Garden Bloggers Bloom Day and do it a little differently. Usually I'm guilty of the same game the garden catalogs play, lots of colorful closeups and no full length views of the subject at hand. It's tempting to go in tight for the beauty shot. Maybe get out the macro.

I thought you might appreciate it a little less edited this time. I won't show all the warts and weeds, but you'll get a better idea of this garden I'm trying to make my own out here in the water, woods and wetlands.

My "office chair" on the porch

Across from the porch, I watch butterflies and hummingbirds on these zinnias

 Pee Gee Hydrangea blooming with courtyard beds in the background

Oops, I couldn't resist, Zinnia "Cool Crayon Colors"

Looking back towards the porch, Nodding Onion blooms attract bees and butterflies

Alliums along the path looking out to docks

Pole bean tower in the "hot mess" garden; a freeform, oft self-seeded veggie potager including Italian parsley, nasturtiums, signet marigolds, kale, beets and strawberries.

Beyond the beans, Joe-Pye weed blooming

Over the fence, the blooms of aquatic Duck Potatoes

Purple elderberries on the path by the pond

Further along Rudbeckia "Herbstsonne", phlox, and fading blooms of Invincibelle Spirit hydrangea

 Hang in there, we're halfway through!
Lots of bees browsing native Culver's Root

Reliable beauties, Annabelle hydrangeas with Nepeta Souvenir D'Andre Chaudon

Clethra "Ruby Spice" smells sweet

Swallowtail on lily

 

Black swallowtail on Mexican Sunflower, "Torch"

Rudbeckia "Cappuccino" started from seed with ornamental millet

 Warm sunset colors 

Out front, the blank canvas where my pine trees stood before a violent windstorm felled them. Check out my funky new stone wall. I'm studying the spot while I wait for it to "speak" to me and tell me what to plant. Any ideas?

 

 Uncommon annual, Cerinthe with blue-green foliage and dangling blue-purple buds

Not blooms but a beautiful combo, maidenhair fern and coleus

(Note the large mosquitos on wall above the container, it is Minnesota after all)

And finally, the blooms of Persicaria "Firetail", Joe-Pye Weed and Rudbeckia planted just outside my son's bedroom so that he might glance up from his laptop and perhaps see a hummingbird or butterfly. What a nice mama he has.

Hope you enjoyed the tour!!!

Strawberry Growing Tips: Corona Strawberry Fields Project Update

If we always took care of our plants with the thought their success might win us an iPad, I wonder what our gardens would look like! Make sure to leave a comment (VOTE) if you find this post helpful or inspiring or you think I could really do some great garden blogging with a shiny new iPad!

You can read all about the Corona Strawberry Fields Project on my original blog post. But just to remind you, the folks at Corona Tools challenged garden bloggers from Garden2Blog with this...

The goal of Corona’s Strawberry Field project is to demonstrate to everyone that even in the smallest of spaces, we can all make a difference by growing fresh, nutritious and organic food.

Starting with three bare roots plants we all came up with our own growing styles and solutions. The most surprising thing? It was so much FUN!

Strawberry Project 8/2/11

Now that we're getting close to the finish line, I thought I'd recap what I did and how anyone could apply these ideas for growing delicious strawberries in their own garden. But don't stop at strawberries, these tips are great for growing other container garden goodies.

• For planting I recycled a wooden box measuring just 11' x 13", originally used for shipping Dow's Vintage Port. A rustic container like this blends well with any garden style. Re-purposing containers requires no extra expense or waste. See what you can convert into a growing vessel.
• With a depth of 91/2" there's plenty of room for good root development. It also has good drainage, which is important, in addition make sure to plant with the crown at soil level to avoid rotting. The three bare root plants were spaced about 4 inches apart.
  
• For the planting mix I combined potting soil and compost, enriched with Jobe's Organic Fertilizer. 
• Periodic fertilizing was done with Moo-Poo Manure Tea and naturally formulated Bonnie's Vegetable Food.
• Any supplemental watering was done with rain water (saved in clean trash cans) from roof runoff.
• The container was set on a patio table (you could use any high surface) for good air circulation and also to deter chipmunks and other pests.
• The location was chosen for its beneficial microclimate; morning and afternoon sun while protected from wind, and lots of warmth radiating from the blue slate patio pavers.
• Japanese beetles were hand-picked and disposed of every other day. 
• Growing them by the front door meant that I could appreciate their charm while making it convenient for picking.

The strawberry planting was dealt the usual setbacks and challenges that most gardeners face: Wet spring, cold weather, extreme heat and humidity, pests, and vacation neglect. However...

Drum roll please:

 As of August 10.... Total ripe berries: 34  Unripe berries: 41 Runners: 18 with 3 baby plants on each for future plantings. And lots of flowers still developing.

You might not have the makings of strawberry jam with just three plants but you will have tasty, healthy berries to snack on in the garden, mine rarely make it inside. Those that did found their way onto cereal or ice cream. Bon apetit from The Garden Buzz!!!

 

State of the Garden Address

"Show me your garden and I shall tell you what you are"...Alfred Austin; British scholar, politican and "plein air" poet.

Weedy and a bit overwhelmed.

Every week I tell people how to garden. However my own garden is having a bit of an existential crisis. I'm not sure I know how to garden anymore. At least for myself. 

In Kansas I was on the cutting edge with my front yard kitchen garden. And now I feel like I'm running behind all the exciting horticultural trends while living in this conventional, often snow-covered, cul de sac somewhere in the suburbs of Minneapolis.

It was more than weather and climate that changed my gardening goals when we moved to Minnesota. Our famiy was changing. And those all-important family dinners from the garden that I orchestrated with such aplumb are now just delicious memories.

With a short season and shade, not to mention the curse of the cottonwood tree, I struggle to harvest a tiny increment of what I did before. And even when what seems like a thousand cherry tomatoes ripen before my eyes, I wonder why I even planted them. Hopefully I'll make my favorite roasted cherry tomato pasta. (Click to read the recipe in the post Do You Suffer From Cherry Tomato Guilt?)

But will anyone be home to eat it? 

My son's schedule is mercurial at best, fluid with the whims of the latest text. Then two weeks from now he'll be moving to his new school, excited to be transferring to Case Western Reserve University in Ohio where he hopes to have a more fulfilling experience after "feeling like a number" at the U of MN just across the river. No more impromptu Sunday dinners at home for awhile.

My husband's schedule is frequently set in stone by the powers that be six months ago. But more often than not he just wants to go out, that same need for novelty and adventure that makes him so successful in business makes dinner at home for too many days, not so appealing.

During summers home from grad school, my daughter, an enthusiastic cook and food blogger, loves fresh produce; radishes to rhubarb and all things in between. Lately she's the one who rattles pans and rustles up dinner, that is, when we can get everyone on board. We come back from the farmers market with bags bigger than our ambitions. 

Yet there's something about walking out the door and having that hand-picked moment. So I keep planting.

Meanwhile the trees, shrubs and perennials are overgrown and weighed down with bindweed and "morning not-so-glorious". The weeds are Jurassic this summer after the tropical heat and torrential rain. I realize the garden is too big and too hilly to remain sustainable in my gardening future. I long for a smaller, flatter lot in a real neighborhood where people walk by and stop to chat about what's blooming. 

Too bad that faint whistling is the sound of Minnesota home prices dropping and not a benevolent breeze. After so many moves that weren't my idea, I can't move when it is.

Cul de sacs are coveted for their quiet and privacy but I should have taken note of the other terms used for such an arrangement. Dead end. Impasse. 

Thank goodness the turkeys and other critters pass through, at least I can still feed someone by planting wildlife habitat.

This blog is one way I'm able to continue sharing my garden in spite of the non-existent traffic in front of my home. On this two year blog-aversary, thanks for turning around in my cul de sac, even if only online.

 

 

 

Alpine Strawberries: A LIttle Sumpin' Sumpin'

This is not the first time I've blogged about Alpine Strawberries and it probably won't be the last. They are the little berry that could. That certain "je ne sais quoi" in your cereal. A little sumpin' sumpin' for your Cheerios.

And so much more.

Otherwise known as Fragaria vesca, woodland strawberry or fraises des bois (frays-day-bwah), the Alpine Strawberry was first transplanted from the wild in Europe and into domestic gardens centuries ago. 

Thomas Jefferson brought these plants in his baggage on the ship back from France in 1789 and later wrote to James Monroe that the Alpine strawberry was "one of three objects you should endeavor to enrich our country with". I don't know about the other two objects. But you get his drift.

These are not strawberries destined for the jam jar. They are small and delicate fruits that you cup gently in your hand or balance in your berry basket as you pick. They are prolific but not meant for massive yields like conventional strawberries. As Jefferson also wrote "it would take acres to yield a dish". There he sounds a bit cynical, and overstates their tiny aspect.

Although once they start producing, you can find enough of berries to include them in tarts, salads, baked goods and such.

I err on the side of abundance when I grow these easy little plants. I started them from seed when I used them for edible edging in my Kansas kitchen garden. I loved combining them with the dark fruits of our mulberry trees on top of lemon cheese tarts back then as well.

Their exotic perfumed taste is not as acidic as a regular strawberry keep in mind. They are most delectable showcased where you can appreciate them for their ephemeral nature. Or just eat them every time you pass by the plant like I do.

The 18" wide and 12' tall mounded plants have fresh green foliage and dainty flowers similar to regular berries. Here in Minnesota I dot them among perennials in my courtyard beds. Because they are runnerless, the landscaping possibilities are numerous. They have few pests and require just average water and a bit of fertilizer. They are easily divided to make more plants as they get fuller.

One word of caution: There are numerous cultivars available with all shades of delicious nuance in their flavor profile. There are even white ones with deep flavor. Be sure though, that whatever type you try, the berries are the small but long conical shape.

Unnamed varieties with small round berries are completely flavorless and produce runners, pretty useless plants. Make sure you see or ask about the berry shape and origin before mail ordering plants. As they become better known more local sources show up. 

Starting them from seed is not difficult but advanced, the seeds need prechilling in some instances, I remember starting mine in a flat outdoors in spring where they received the fluctuating temps that help some seeds to germinate. You should consult individual seed packet instructions. They are worth the effort.

Alpine strawberries can tolerate a little shade and also make great container plants.

Mine are self seeding this year with all the extra rain. I'll be nursing them along and then transplanting to good locations, increasing my quantities this way. I may not get an acre, but I'll have plenty of berries, Mr. Jefferson. Thanks for endeavoring to stow them in your luggage!

Breakfast blogging...                                                  The Garden Buzz