Some photos I’ve taken the past few weeks.
Monthly Archives: November 2012
Some “Before and After” pics after our recent snowstorm:
Joe Pye Weed
Viburnum
Purple Coneflower
Purple Fountain Grass
Miscanthus
More grasses
Last week I riffed on my frustrations and failures from this past gardening season and it reminded me, yet again, how frickin hard it is to grow a damn flower. I think my pass/fail rate is at about 50% and shows no signs of improving.
But enough of the negativity …
Upon further inspection/reflection, there were also a number of successes this past year. Since I am a “glass mostly/kinda empty” type guy, it can be difficult for me to admit to things that went well. Not to mention, the failures are funnier and wonderful fodder for my self loathing.
But sometimes, things work out alright. It may have been luck, a green thumb, the use of “fool proof plants” or a combo of all three; whatever it was, let us celebrate a bit today, OK?
Here are six positives, dating back to early spring of 2012:
1). New plant introductions to my landscape: This is a given each year as we all add to our ever growing plant collection. As I scoured through my incredibly complex plant spreadsheet and sorted it by month purchased and then read the corresponding comments, I found that most of these plants actually thrived in year one. How you like me now?
Without diving into any level of detail, here are my winners.
Bulbs first:
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| Daffodil ‘Kokopelli’ |
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| Daffodil ‘Double Beauty’ |
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| Allium ‘Purple Sensation’ |
And the perennials:
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| Iris versicolor |
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| Geranium ‘Karmina’ |
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| Astilbe ‘Amethyst’ |
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| Astilbe ‘Amethyst’ |
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| Bee Balm ‘Colrain Red’ |
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| Northern Sea Oats ‘River Mist’ |
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| Geranium ‘Espresso’ |
And one shrub in the mix:
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| Hydrangea ‘Little Lime’ |
We’ll see how things progress in 2013, but for now, I’ll bask in the initial glory.
2). Blooming trees in spring: For most of you, this is a given. But for me, this has been a struggle since I moved into our home back in 2004. There wasn’t a tree of any significance on the property, so it has been a slow climb to make it more tree-mendous.
Nothing beats those first tree blooms of spring and this is the first year where I felt like I was invited to the party. Here is what I had going on back in April and May:
Serviceberry ‘Autumn Brilliance’:
Plum ‘Thundercloud’:
I hope to add more in the near future but unfortunately, money doesn’t grow on …
3). Existing plants that exploded out of nowhere: These are all plants that had been progressing decently the past year or two, but then put on an awesome show like never before. Or a better way of putting it:
“Plants I some how managed not to tinker with too much so they actually had a chance to establish themselves”.
They include:
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| Panicum ‘Northwind’ |
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| Mountain mint |
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| Salix ‘Hakuro Nishiki’ |
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| Salix ‘Hakuro Nishiki’ |
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| Iris siberica ‘Snow Queen’ |
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| Iris siberica ‘Snow Queen’ |
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| Miscanthus ‘purpurascens’ |
4). The benefits and fun involved with experimental pruning: Back in June, I created my “Prune in June” series (I’m a killer rhymer), which was all about strictly following the pruning for size/delay in bloom laid out so beautifully almost a decade before by Tracy DiSabato Aust.
I picked four different perennials to experiment with and all taught me something unique.
I like the look of a sedum when cut back as it produced more flower heads and delayed bloom later into Fall when color is at a premium:
By cutting back significantly in early June, I was able to keep my Boltonia upright into September:
I really like the layered look achieved when pinching back the lower blooms on a mass of Joe Pye Weed:
And finally, despite all of my efforts to keep Sneezeweed standing at attention:
I realized it may be an impossible task, even after pruning for size control along the way:
5). Get to know your weeds as well: Back in the summer, I wrote a post on Red Sorrel and through my own research and reader comments, I realized I went about its eradication all wrong:
Remember, weeds are plants too and they all have unique traits that change how you confront them. Hoping to do more of the same in the new year.
6). Got to know my camera much better: My wife gave me a lesson with a local photographer and it completely changed how I look at photography. While I still rely on the “Auto” function a bit too much, at least I have an understanding of shutter speed and aperture.
Trying to capture action shots became a hell of a lot easier:
What does that have to do with gardening you say? Well it helped me identify the beauty of movement in the garden and hopefully these pics are only the tip of the iceberg:
Camera upgrade in the future? All depends on the Powerball results Wednesday night.
So there you have it.
Me singing my own praises.
Feels a little dirty. I need to screw something up real quick.
John
As I reflect on this past gardening “season”, I find it easy to recall a lot of what I did wrong or what annoyed me to no end.
Now the key is to turn those moments into something educational. A learning “opportunity” if you will.
With that said, here are ten of my “opportunities”, in no particular order:
1). I need ANY Anemone to thrive for me. I have tried for years to successfully grow a Japanese anemone. And each year there is promise early on in the Fall, only to see it all fall apart soon after.
I have relocated ‘September Charm’ three times in the past two years (yes, I am in denial) and they looked to be good and healthy and on their way back in September:
And all I ultimately ended up with was one friggin bloom:
Anemones should work for me based on their requirements and I would kill for that late season color and unique leaf shape. But 2012 was yet another failure. So logically, I should give up and move on, right? Nope. I added an ‘Honorine Jobert’ this Fall and will try yet again.
2). I am not physically capable of growing tomatoes in containers. With all of the deer roaming my property and with the soil draining so poorly, I never entertained the idea of growing fruits or vegetables. To combat that, I figured why not grow them on the deck in containers. Can’t be all that difficult.
Here are the wonderful results:
This one can be chalked up to laziness on my part as I tend to forget how cumbersome the watering schedule is in the dead of summer. Throw in vacations where we are gone up to a week at a time and you have a recipe for failure.
But I’ll do it again …
3). Tropical plants and me do not mix. I tried to mix it up a bit this summer and added a few “tropical” plants and they looked out of place from the get-go:
Maybe some day I’ll figure out how to incorporate these annuals properly, but for now it is not worth the time, effort and cash.
4). Keeping up with the weeds. Nuff said:
5). Taking things blooms for granted: I swear I have no memory of enjoying these blooms for even 10 seconds. I just assume they will bloom each and every Summer and move on to other problem areas. Bad job by me:
6). I let my guard down and as a result, the mutha f’n deer ate every peony bud:
This was a first and one I’ll never forget. I went out to cut a few buds/early blooms for my wife and almost fainted in shock. Next spring, I vow to sleep outside with a shotgun in hand.
7). Poison Ivy is slowly taking over and I am terrified to try and stop it. I have three Russian Sage plants that are slowly being strangled to death:
I am brutally allergic and fearful to try and save them. Maybe a blow torch?
8.) Collapsing/sprawling perennials. I get it. It happens. Even after I’ve taken the time to cut back earlier in the season or pinch a bit along the way, it is still inevitable. Especially with a lot of the native perennials. I should just grin and bear it, but there is no denying it doesn’t look good:
I’ll continue to tinker with ways to control it (more appropriate conditions, staking, leaning on neighboring plants) but I guess I have to come to grips with the reality that this is going to happen no matter what I do.
9). I hate pink flowers on yellow foliage. Time to eradicate this problem:
10). It may be time to label my plants. It is at the point where I can’t tell what is a weed or what is a native plant I stuck in the ground months ago:
I was confident for years that I could memorize where every plant was placed even when they were dormant in winter. Those days are gone as my memory gets worse with age and the number of plants has reached an extraordinary level.
There you have it. I could come up with ten more if I had the time, but this will have to do for now.
Coming soon – “What I did right this year”.
Prepare yourself for a short read.
John
One of my favorite things to do is purchase small plugs of plants online late in the season, stick them in the ground and forget about them. By the time spring rolls around, I pay little attention to them or don’t remember that they are even there.
If they don’t survive, I figure it was worth the risk for such a small financial investment.
But most of the time, in the spring, I’ll notice something, that isn’t a weed, is growing and I’ll have to jog my memory to remember what it actually is. Once I am able to recall said plant, I get all excited and consider the purchase a “win”.
In the Fall of 2010, I bought three tiny Panicum ‘Northwind’ ornamental grasses from Santa Rosa Gardens at a deep discount. I planted them and put them through their “test”. In year one, they didn’t do much but they looked healthy enough for me to know that they were going to be a keeper.
Fast forward to Spring of 2012 and these puppies kicked some major tail. They emerged in mid spring once the temps warmed up (hence they are “warm season” grasses) and I immediately fell in love.
As promised, they are extremely upright and I love the blue/green color of the leaves:
This US and Canadian native grass absolutely thrived in a full sun bed that is riddled with clay soil and drains poorly. These “switch grasses” worked well with other native perennials and grasses with their upright stature taking center stage:
By mid July, they began to show signs of blooming:
Within days, the blooms turned a pinkish shade and absolutely covered the grasses:
When in full bloom, they lent an awesome “airiness” to the their surroundings:
By mid Fall, the leaves began to turn yellow but the gentle blooms still persisted:
Good times, eh?
This grass typically reaches a height of about 5′ (6′ in bloom) with a spread of about 2′. From what I’ve read, it survives as cold as zone 4 and as warm as zone 9.
They held up OK after our recent storms and will hopefully do the same as we move into Winter.
Why not give ’em a try? And let me know about your successes and failures.
John
There is nothing better than getting outside this time of year to plant your spring blooming bulbs. It’s cold as hell, snot drips from your nose, the hands become borderline numb and the sky is overcast. Sweet!
And while it is fun to brave the elements, nothing beats trying to strategically determine where to plant the bulbs. I carry all of my bulbs around in a wheelbarrow and survey the landscape like a detective. This is work to be taken very seriously. A few questions that need to be answered:
Where can I get the biggest bang for the buck?
Where are the best views from inside the house to see these bulbs?
What color schemes can I create between the bulbs and early blooming perennials?
How can I hide the decaying foliage of the bulbs once they are finished blooming?
That last question can be the trickiest of all and one I take very seriously. While the spring bloom display is sensational, I don’t want to then have the spent foliage take away from other plants that are then ready to put on their show.
The key is to hide the dying foliage because you don’t want to cut it down. That dying foliage is what feeds the bulbs for the next year and is key to their survival. And there is no better way to hide the foliage then with perennials that are putting on their heavy growth in spring.
Case in point:
Here is a spot where I decided to plant some daffodil bulbs between the sedums:
I knew that sedums are quick to grow in spring and would be perfect for disguising the spent daffodil foliage.
Fast forward to spring and the daffodils were in full bloom: 
After they were done blooming, you can see the foliage still looks OK (top right in photo below):
By the time late summer rolled around, you wouldn’t even know they were planted there:
Which takes me to today.
I found another spot for more daffodils (‘Ice Follies’):
They would planted between a Spirea ‘Snowstorm’, a bunch of siberian irises and a few grasses. I figured the irises would shield the dying foliage from the most common view and eventually, everything else would crowd out the foliage all together.
And so the hole was dug (and did it ever feel good to do so): 
Bulbs placed accordingly (I usually plant just a few to test drive a new bulb I’ve never had before):
And then boom, the soil is back in, the mulch is raked back over and we are good to go:
Now we just wait until spring and hope the floral display delivers as promised.
John
It has been a little over a week since Hurricane Sandy came thrashing through and while life has returned to normal in some ways, I think we all know life will never quite be the same.
There are still reminders everywhere around us, and this is an area that was not nearly as devastated as places like the Jersey Shore, New York City and Long Island:
On a personal level, this is all I had to contend with:
The potential loss of the arborvitae above may be a blessing in disguise as its neighbor will be on its way out as well, due to the dreaded bagworm:
My ‘Winter King’ Hawthorn is leaning a bit, but I’m hoping it will correct itself without much intervention:
All in all, I am blessed to have not suffered any other damage. We have so many others still without power and with temps in the 20’s last night, that ain’t so good. We were thrilled to have helped out our friends and family over the past week by simply providing warm beds and hot showers.
Now this is a gardening blog (or a weak imitation of one … see, still haven’t lost the self deprecation) so I’m back to my calling (slight sarcasm still here too).
One thing that has been capturing my attention, post hurricane and now that we have super cold temps, is this planter:
Not elaborate or dramatic by any means, but it is hard to take issue with seeing anything green and alive this time of year. And I think I may have nailed the thriller, spiller, filler equation.
I originally created this container back in mid summer as a space filler in shade on my front porch. I threw it together without much thought and stuck it in the corner. It was cheap and low maintenance.
Prior to Hurricane Sandy, I brought this container in the garage so it couldn’t operate as a missile during the storm.
After the storm, I put it out on my back deck, right in view out of the kitchen:
It’s amazing how something so simple can provide such pleasure. But then again, that is what drew me to gardening in the first place. It is a constant reminder to enjoy the little things. Good times.
I think this container, from this point forward, will serve as a reminder of all that transpired with Hurricane Sandy. And a reminder to enjoy all that we have, because you never know when your world can be rocked.
In fact, I may keep the “Leaning tower of arborvitae” as a backdrop to this container. It is too symbolic to remove it:
Later my friends.
John
I feel … not right.
Maybe it is “Survivor’s guilt”.
Hurricane Sandy has come and gone and we made it through pretty much unscathed. We even got power back last night while so many around us are still in the dark.
You’d think I would be ecstatic, but it doesn’t feel that way.
While I am enjoying all of the benefits that electricity has to offer, I feel like I’m not supposed to. It’s too soon. I should be suffering or “grinding it out” a bit more.
In an odd way, I felt more “connected” as the storm unfolded and in its aftermath. All of the nonsensical day to day “stuff” was pushed aside and there was a singular focus. We were all in it together and there for each other. Even tonight, I’m loving having our friends over so they could shower and enjoy the warmth.
I spent a lot of time on Twitter while the storm was in motion and was overwhelmed by what was going on at the Jersey Shore and in New York City. It was heartbreaking and put my situation in perspective. Having to flush the toilet with buckets of water is nothing compared to what others were dealing with.
At the same time I was reading tweets about the destruction in the dark, while frightening wind gusts pounded against our house, I was also reading tweets about yummy cupcake recipes and cute decorating ideas on Pinterest and over the top, completely partisan political tweets.
I found myself getting more and more annoyed by these inane tweets. How dare you tweet about recipes when there is a disaster up and down the entire East Coast. Show some respect you a-holes.
But then I realized how damn hypocritical I was being. How many times had I gone about my business, without a care, when there was a tragedy somewhere else in the country or the world. Is there some sort of rule book when it comes to tragedy? If we were to follow it, wouldn’t we all be paralyzed by sadness?
I still haven’t figured out how to reconcile it all, but I know I will teach my children to appreciate just how lucky they are and to be compassionate for all those who weren’t so lucky. You never know what hand you are going to be dealt and you need to be able to adjust along the way.
Which brings me to another “storm” thought.
I’m pretty sure the kids will remember this week as one of the most fun of their lives. As scary as it was, they loved huddling together in the family room while the storm wreaked havoc outside. They loved eating ice cream for breakfast before it melted. They loved making shadow puppets on the ceiling with the flashlights. They loved not going to school and staying in their pajamas all day. A grand old time.
There were some complaints about not being able to watch TV or play their video games but for the most part, they loved “roughing it”. And dammit if that isn’t a lesson for us as parents. Keep it simple more often. Make the kids create their own fun. Boredom can lead to creativity.
I need to apply that same lesson to me as well. Maybe that is why I wasn’t ready to get my power back. I enjoyed the simplicity and the camaraderie with family, friends and neighbors. It reminds me of how we felt after 9/11. It was a brutal tragedy and it felt wrong to feel good about how it brought everyone together. But you couldn’t deny that emotion.
Now I’m back online blogging, tweeting and reading my emails. And the kids are watching TV.
I don’t want another tragedy to bring us back to what we just went through. It’s my job as a parent to figure out how to create that same sensibility in our day to day lives.
John