I’ve been doing some critical thinking (OK, more like daydreaming) of late and had some thoughts I’d like to share with you today.

In true fashion, I haven’t come up with a clear cut decision on any of these things:


How is it that I have yet to transplant a single shrub/perennial this year? 
This is a fascinating development for me. By this time last year, I had completely overhauled my front bed after doing the same the prior year.

I think there may be multiple, potential reasons for this non-activity. Let’s explore, shall we?:

• Laziness – nope, still have that same drive I’ve had for the past decade. 
• The weather – the wet soil is not ideal for planting and transplanting, but that has never stopped me before.
• Time – yes, this is always a hurdle, but I managed to find the time the past few years.  
• Patience – again, nope. I am always in analysis mode and will take swift action when required.
• Satisfaction – is it possible? Maybe I kind of like how things look right now? I think this, gulp, may be the case. While a true gardener is never satisfied, I am finding that maybe, just maybe, I’m getting better at this design gig. We’ll see how long it lasts. 

Do I need to develop a game plan or determine where I want to take this blog in the future?
I’ve been reading quite a bit on the state of garden blogging and where it is headed. There seems to be a discord between those who write for traditional media outlets and those who blog. Bloggers are often accused of being uneducated and inexperienced in the world of horticulture and guilty of spreading misinformation. While I am relatively new to the world of blogging, I have been a regular reader of garden blogs over the years and have found that very few, if any, have given out bad information. What I have found, is that garden bloggers are full of passion and love to share their own experiences with others. These bloggers are a great mix of designers, farmers, plant geeks and backyard gardeners and I find all of their writings to be an inspiration.

Which leads me to the question I posed above. Where am I going with this blog? Is it simply a collection of photos of my gardens along with my own commentary? Am I targeting beginning gardeners or those who like using Latin names? Am I trying to impress my friends and family? Or show off the fact that I have some decent plant knowledge? The truth – I have no idea at this point. I’m just enjoying the ride and writing about my true passion.

I won’t kid you, I closely analyze the traffic to this blog and have educated myself on how to up my rankings in the Google search listings. I also have become fascinated with social media – my Twitter page can be accessed here and yes, I even created a blog Facebook page here.

At the same time, I find myself enjoying the personal posts and simple tours of my gardens more than any other entry I typically write. Would I ever consider advertising? I don’t know, but I wouldn’t rule it out if I were to be so lucky to receive that opportunity.

Should I feel dirty when I purchase plants from one of the “big box stores”?

This applies to all sorts of purchases (produce, appliances, etc.) and not only plants. Should I be willing to pay a bit more at my local garden center knowing the money will be staying local? How do I turn down how cheap Home Depot and Lowe’s can be on certain plants? There is nothing better than a visit to my local nursery and I want to support them in any way I can. I’m still working out this one in my wallet, my head and in my conscience.        

How do I extend my gardens beyond the perimeter of my home?
I have spent the better part of six years trying to get the garden beds that surround my home/driveway right. Now I’m ready to extend out. The problem (and blessing) is that I have a large property and don’t know where to begin.

Ideally, I want to get to a point where I have many garden rooms or “places to chill”. All of these rooms would be attached with interesting and meandering garden paths. In my head it kicks ass but in reality I feel like I’ll never get there. Beyond the typical issues of time, money, deer and … time, I don’t know where to begin. I don’t like the look of island beds so I want to some how transition from my yard to the woods that border my property. OK, fine, this isn’t a problem at all and damn exciting, I just need to start it and see where it leads me.                                          

John

Two color combos I’m sort of digging this Saturday:

We recently hosted my in-laws at our home and had a few great days together. The weather was perfect (sunny and low 70’s) so we sampled the local parks, ate like mad, enjoyed some beverages and just “chillaxed”, as the kids like to say. I’ll include some of these photos in a future post, but for today, I wanted to share one specific experience with you.

On Saturday morning, my mother-in-law asked me “Can you give us a tour of your gardens?” Innocent enough request, right? Um, no! No one ever asked me to actually bring them up close and personal with my plant collections.

Sure, some of my friends and family have limited interest in my “landscaping” passion but they never actually want to touch the plants or get to know the names. Could I present my gardens in an interesting way? Do I know the common names of the plants so it doesn’t sound like a lesson in Latin? Are the gardens even worthy of a visit? Answers: No, No and No.

Some day, I envision garden tours at my home that are majestic and life changing. I’m talking t-shirt vendors, scalpers and wine tastings. I want buses to pull up and I want to hand each camera toting tourist a map so they can navigate the grounds. Well, that is my romantic notion at least.

At this point in time, however, I am lacking skills. I almost put myself to sleep. And I couldn’t have sounded more snobby using only the Latin names for the plants since those are the only names I actually know (in my defense, I still find this the easiest way to know what plants I’m actually dealing with). I also climbed into the fetal position a few times when spotting weeds the size of small children.

Here’s a sampling of the cringe worthy tour:            

I wisely started the tour where there were some actual blooms and a bunch of buds. Below is a Campanula that I so deftly called “Um, something ending with ‘bells’.”

I tried to sell how the green shade of this Chasmanthium … I mean Northern Sea Oats… really stood out. Even I wasn’t buying it.

I kid you not, I used the term “dainty” describing the foliage on this Astilbe. I still hate myself two days later.

I truly love boxwoods but I really need to better prepare and identify why. “Because the deer ignore them” and “they’re evergreen” doesn’t inspire all that much.

I’m still trying to determine if “delicate” foliage sounds worse than “dainty” but more importantly, is a geranium’s foliage really “delicate”? I need to consult my thesaurus a bit more.

I was proud of the fact that I could recall that Monarda (the Bee Balm name escaped me at the time) belongs to the mint family, but I spent way too much time all excited about this tiny mound of growth.  

OK, I managed a “strapping foliage” when describing these irises. I was proud of that one but when I went into my contrasting foliage speech, it would have been nice to have these actually next to some contrasting foliage. And maybe not have them surrounded by weeds.      

Admittedly, I purchased this ‘Alabama Sunset’ coleus an hour before the guests arrived, which is OK, but removing the tag would have been a nice touch.

I really need to come up with something I can successfully grow underneath all of my river birch trees.

Home boy threw out a great nugget letting my guests know this Hakonechloa was Perennial Plant of the year two years ago. I also shared how it lights up a shaded area and I have mine in a container so I could meet it’s good drainage requirement. Maybe there is hope yet?  

I called this an “ice plant” trying to keep it real with the common name and no lie, my mother in law correctly stated it was Candytuft. I pretended like I never heard her.

As painful as the tour may have been, I am determined to get it right in the future. It will take a lot of work, but I’ve got the dream already played out in my head.

Time to get to work on it.

John

What a fantastic time of year this is. Everything brown has turned to green, foliage is emerging at a rapid pace and flowers, yes flowers, are here to light up our world:    

Nothing can go wrong, we just let nature take it’s course and soak it all in. I mean look at the color on the blooms of this Ajuga ‘Chocolate Chip’:

And the small divisions of this same groundcover have matured and look great at the front of this garden bed:

But you know what? I’m fixated on the 3-4 plants that have huge holes smack dab in the middle of them:

I really try to keep it as positive as possible and it works some days. But when you’re as neurotic as I am with my garden (Interestingly enough, I am not the least bit neurotic in “real life”. Interesting. Discuss amongst yourselves), the negativity eventually creeps in and takes over. I have even come up with a formula that accurately nails my garden mood for each day:

If 10X < 1Y then I am OK
X = plants in bad shape
Y = plants in good shape

So for example, if there are 2 plants in bad shape (X) and there are 21 in good shape (Y) the calculation is as follows:

10 x 2 = 20 and is less than 1 x 21 = 21

I am therefore happy. Trust me, I’ve fine tuned this formula the past few years and it is definitely spot on.
         
But enough of the calculus lesson, here are my frustrations in pictures:

What wonderful cherry blooms, so dainty:

And I’m now left with a weeping “ugly” tree:

And it’s all the deer’s fault:

The Prunus Cistena (Purple Sandcherry) is blooming and looks great with the foliage:

Too bad it is shoved in a container trying to hide the utilities. If I set this in the ground, the deer will chow down on it in minutes and the wet soil will make it whimper in pain:

I’m convinced this was destruction at the hands/paws of some deranged friggin deer. They destroyed half this euonymus which is just enough to make me consider trying to nurse it back to life:  

Um, what do I do with this? This hydrangea is in a prominent location near my front steps and it wants to pull a stunt like this? Be dead or be alive please. Pick one and go with it.

Have any of you ever tried rabbit stew? Is it any good? Any particular rabbit better than others? I could sell gallons of the stuff with the number of rabbits I’ve got under my deck and all over the yard. When I pull into my driveway at night, they scatter like drunken teenagers running from the police.  

I kid you not, I’ve now successfully killed 5 of these ‘Bennett Compact’ hollies in the past 4 years. You absolutely have the right to question my sanity. This is an end of an era and I vow to never even consider them again. Although they are the ideal foundation shrub, evergreen, nice shape …    

Tune in next time to see how much more I can bitch and moan about something I love doing more than anything else.

John

Some times all it takes to get me fixated on a gardening “item” is a walk to the car in the morning. Or taking the dog out at night. Or taking the garbage out to the curb. It is fun and maddening at the same time. Sort of like garden design OCD.

Here are a few of those “items” that I’m obsessing over today:

I love the foliage color on the Carex ‘Cappuccino’ (many will disagree). This grass fits the required criteria of handling the wet clay soil, being deer resistant and providing multi seasonal interest. The struggle is with what to pair it with:

Right now, if I could only choose one plant to use in the landscape, it would be any cultivar of Calamagrostis (Feather Reed Grass). The rapid foliage growth on this cool season grass is tremendous, as is it’s shape, as is it’s “early for a grass” bloom time of July. I am now hunting obsessively for every possible variety that exists (the photo below is ‘El Dorado’). Can I have too many of these? Do I like them in mass plantings? Or just as a specimen?:

Spirea ‘Goldmound’ looks great as the foliage emerges early in the spring. The chartreuse/yellow color is a great color contrast against plants with red/purple/green foliage. The problem is that I actually do not like the pink blooms and I find that the foliage color fades to an OK yellow later in the season. I can’t just chuck it in the compost pile so I need to locate them to a better location. Give them more shade and sheer the flowers off immediately? Hmm …      

Have a great weekend!
John

I think I’m really pushing the limits of uninteresting today.

My apologies ahead of time for providing weak content.

Consider yourself warned.

Today’s post is a mixed bag of odds and ends from yet another self guided tour around the yard. As we all know, dramatic changes occur daily outside in garden-land this time of year. Here is what I found during my most recent trek.  

“Leaves of three, leave them be.” Now I know where I got attacked from when I had poison ivy two weeks ago. It is growing right in the middle of one of my Russian Sage plants. The RS has already been cut down so no need to travel back here any time soon.

A few weeks ago, I wrote about pruning my Weigela ‘Wine and Roses’ and I just saw the first signs of growth on the severely pruned shrub. If the foliage remains as dark as it looks now, color me mucho happy.

I think Hypericum ‘Albury Purple’ is a way under utilized small shrub because of it’s fantastic foliage color and that color has emerged like mad the past few days. Throw in the yellow flowers and berries and you’ve got yourself one versatile shrub.

New growth on the Dwarf Alberta Spruce – riveting stuff, huh?

Hydrangeas are showing signs of life – told you this wasn’t going to be super exciting.

Years ago, I gave on tulips in the ground and started overwintering them in containers in my garage. These are a super bright orange and I cannot wait to see the blooms. Amazing what a good draining soil and protection from the creatures will do.  

And finally, a photo that sums up the condition of the yard right now. Can you say “bog gardens”?

John