Have a great weekend and as always, thank you so much for stopping by!

John

I have the same exact feeling each and every year by the end of September.

This year, I got it right.

I spend most of September (and early October), moving plants around to “better” locations, with better companions and also spend a ton of time incorporating newly purchased plants (gotta love the 50% off sales) into the landscape.

With the milder temperatures, it is a great time of year to relocate/transplant said plants in order to give them enough time to establish themselves before frost.

It is a time to evaluate how individual plants performed that growing season and whether or not their conditions allowed them to put on the best show. Those that underwhelmed or failed all together, get a second chance to prove their worth somewhere else.

Maybe they truly needed full sun or in fact, were not deer resistant.

Maybe the foliage colors or shape clashed rather than contrasted.

Whatever the reason, I love the challenge. It becomes puzzle-like and keeps me up at night. It’s invigorating. And I’m always convinced everything is in its right place (awesome Radiohead reference by me … never mind).

But here’s the problem. All the tinkering each fall holds me back from creating new gardens/vignettes/vistas. I can’t move on to new and exciting projects because the old ones just aren’t right. Two steps forward, two steps back (and a not so awesome Paula Abdul reference).

What’s invigorating is also maddening.

So I decided to take a step back and analyze my decision making process to see why I cannot put a ribbon on a garden bed and move on. Some possible reasons for this indecision:

1. Is it simply the nature of plants and a necessary evil of gardening? Trial and error?
2. Do I have gardening ADD and just can’t stop myself from tinkering?
3. Is there some psychological reasoning where I subconsciously never allow myself to see it complete?
4. Am I getting smarter each year and the transplanting is a result of that new knowledge?

To attempt to answer these questions, I took one particular garden bed and traced it from its origins to current day. Here are the results and what I learned from the exercise:

The original garden bed just as I started reshaping it and making it much larger:
                     

A few weeks later it was “completed” (ha). From left to right, there is a Weigela ‘Wine and Roses’, Rudbeckia, Spirea ‘Antony Waterer’, Sedum ‘Matrona’ and a few Daylilies:

Damn it felt good to have that done. But it didn’t last and here is how it unfolded.

• The Rudbeckia (Blackeyed Susan) almost immediately were covered in black spots and I had to cut them down in late summer. They never really came back fully the following spring and those that did, mysteriously reseeded in other parts of the yard: 

• The Sedum ‘Matrona’ were OK into the late summer but were eaten by some combination of deer/rabbits. I eventually moved them to a new location in the spring where they couldn’t be reached by the critters.

OK, we’re back on track … except we’re not. And here’s why:

• The Weigela ‘Wine and Roses’ never really bloomed or thrived and after digging it up, I realized it was just about sitting in standing water. Off she goes to another bed for her second chance.
• The yellow arborvitae just never really fit in. The color was “blech” and just uninspiring. For whatever reason, I went on an Arborvitae spending spree a few years back and now I’m stuck with them and they are underwhelming.
• The dwarf Bee Balms never survived the winter due to poor drainage.
• The so-called indestructible Spirea was covered in poison ivy and upon removal, was also suffering from poor drainage:

• The NSO just seemed a bit too tall for its location and was already showing signs of reseeding heavily. She needed to be in a more natural bed where reseeding was more acceptable.
• The Hibiscus was awesome for a while and I loved the fact that my daughter could see the massive blooms right out our back window:        

But the leaves were getting devoured in a prominent location which frustrated me to no end:

And eventually, I cut them down and relocated them to a spot where I “think” I can enjoy the blooms and they’ll have more space to grow:

After the Weigela was removed, I replaced it with a Salix (Dappled Willow) ‘Hakuro Nishiki’ figuring it would be OK with the poor drainage:

And it was … too much so. It thrived beyond belief but I knew it would soon outgrow its space. So off it went to a new location where I could keep it in bounds with an annual pruning and where it could be a strong focal point:

So now fast forward to today … and I have a new plan or the start of a new plan I should say. The bed looks awful but I have to ignore that and proceed with my plan. The newly added plants are small and look out of place, but I am determined to remain patient.

In the center of the bed, are two new hydrangeas that have been carefully planted and are a bit higher than ground level to improve the drainage. I’m banking on these popping with blooms in the summer (and they are my wife’s favorite so I wanted to incorporate more).

There is a Dwarf Alberta Spruce in the back of the bed as I know these have thrived for me and grown quickly in almost the same conditions in other parts of the yard.

I added a Feather Reed Grass ‘Overdam’ in the middle of the deck where the Dappled Willow was before.

The Spiderwort will soon be moved to a new location as they are too similar to the nearby Daylillies and I need something there that will good between the hydrangeas.

And finally, I divided a few Siberian Irises and added them to this bed hoping they’ll look good with the Panicum and Hydrangeas nearby:        

We’ll see how long this lasts as only time will tell.

As for conclusions drawn, I realize that all of the reasons I listed above come into play but more than anything else, it’s all about trial and error.

Yes, I should have known the Weigela needed better drainage but that individual spot seems to be worse than others in the bed, but who knew.

Yes, I knew the Sedum were vulnerable to deer and rabbits but I figured I would stay on top of the spraying.  Um, not really.

Yes, the Hibiscus needed more space, but I loved the idea that my daughter could see the blooms up close with ease.

This passion will last a lifetime and I know I will learn something new every day. How boring would it be if everything just stayed as is regardless of how good it looked. I’d eventually ignore it completely out of boredom.

I’ll get it right and wrong again but I’ll have a hell of a lot of fun along the way.

I ain’t changing.

John        

But the lettuce, basil and cilantro bombed big time.

And don’t even get me started on the tomatoes. Here is one of the few that didn’t rot on the vine:

I grabbed the already opened seed packets I had stored in the garage back in the spring:

And we were off and planting. Please note the uniform of choice:

The bed looks a lot better, eh? We could actually see the tomato plants, thyme, rosemary and basil again:

I have to be honest, my daughter didn’t make it all the way through as she disappeared in a flash after I sowed all of the lettuce seeds:

And I knew exactly where she could be found (sorry about the bright photo, more camera experimentation):

I figure every time I drag her out into the garden, I am adding a bit to her interest and “planting the seed” for the next time. Just maybe, some day in the future she’ll call me and ask if she can have some of my divided irises.

A dad can dream, right?

**Update – No lie, my daughter ran into the house this weekend to tell me that “our seeds” were starting to grow:  

Good times.

John

Boltonia ‘Pink Beauty’

Helenium autumnale (Sneezeweed)

Others continue to put on a show but are showing signs of wearing down:

Echinacea ‘Fragrant Angel’ (White Coneflower)

Echinacea ‘Fragrant Angel’ (White coneflower)

Blooms on Astilbe ‘Deutschland’

Some have put on a second show, albeit, not as dramatic as the first:

Nepeta ‘Walker’s Low’ (Catmint)

Phlox paniculata ‘David’

Many are just now showing signs of bloom for the first time:

Chelone glabra

Caryopteris ‘Sunshine Blue’ (Bluebeard)

Caryopteris ‘Sunshine Blue’ (Bluebeard)

Hydrangea paniculata ‘Little Lime’

Add to the mix the foliage changes starting to appear (as seen in my last post) and you have a cornucopia of garden loveliness.

Don’t you agree? Of course you do.

John