I Remember Jeep (and Anemone nemorosa 'Bracteata Pleniflora')

The above clump of Cardamine trifolia represents seven years of growth.


I planted three Anemone nemorosa 'bracteata pleniflora eight years ago. Here they are today. Now that is slow! Click on the picture to get a better view of the amazing flowers.

Although I am not a particularly organized person I have had considerable enjoyment from records I kept of the plants I acquired in the twelve years I have been gardening at my current home. I refer back to those records on a regular basis for many reasons. For example, I photographed a clump of Cardamine trifolia this spring that I seem to have had forever, and yet it is still a smallish clump. A quick search found that I bought it from the now defunct version of Heronswood Nursery seven years ago, so look at the picture and judge for yourself, but I think that is one slow growing groundcover! Another photograph this spring evoked a similar curiosity. My Anemone nemorosa 'Brachteata Pleniflora' (which I coincidentally also bought from Heronswood)has finally emerged from the status of a tiny little whisper of plants to an actual clump (see image above). That bit of progress took eight years.

I also enjoy reminiscing over plants that are no longer with me because they didn't survive(it's a humiliatingly large number), or because I had to frantically eradicate them (e.g. Campanula punctata, Salvia forskaohlei, and Knautia macedonica come to mind), because they were taking over the garden. It is also interesting to see the relative success I have had with various nurseries. I recently observed, for example, that while I have acquired some particularly unusual and successful plants from one specialty nursery, which is famous for letting you figure out for yourself where their plants will grow, a large majority of the plants I bought from them did not make it. I decided that their already high cost was too high when the attrition rate is factored in. I have also found the records to be particularly satisfying in reminding me of those special plants that have been given to me and have found a suitable home in my garden. I like to remember the people and the friendship when I think of their plants. Sometimes it is years before I realize I want to buy more of a particularly successful plant, so it is useful to know where I bought them originally, and when I lose the labels I have at least a fighting chance of figuring out what the full name of the now unidentified plants are. Record keeping may be a bore, but these records of mine have expanded my gardening pleasure and success significantly.

Remembering Belly Plants

Primula marginata


Corydalis solida 'Blushing Girl'


Diphyllea sinensis


Deinanthe caerulea

Large sweeps of bulbs and big perennial borders are impressive and something to be proud of if you created them yourself, but there is a special place in my sense of satisfaction for the many small and demure plants that reward looking closely especially in intimate spaces. This spring my thrill for the understated is with a new (for me)primrose, Primula marginata . It bloomed for the first time recently in my rock wall. The color, the survival of a new plant, the successful colonization of my rock wall, and the fact that it was a new species for me all contributed to my pleasure, in addition to its beauty. Last year it was Corydalis solida 'Blushing Girl' and the fruit of Diphylleia sinensis, the year before I recall Deinanthe caerulea.

I am reminded of the enthusiasm my fellow botany students and I had on field trips for what we called belly plants, those plants that were so small we had to get on our bellies to enjoy them. These garden plants aren't tiny like belly plants, but they certainly evoke a similar sort of appreciation.

Secret Pleasures

A sense of humor is essential to the lifestyle garden and I got a good laugh out of the above pictured Galanthus (snow drops). I had long ago lost track of the name and all memory of planting this little patch of snow drops next to my driveway, but I was looking at them this spring and was struck by how the flowers seemed strangely fat. Upon closer inspection I discovered they were doubles. Of course, you can't tell the flowers are doubles unless you turn them upside down. I found this all both gratifying and mildly humorous. It is like a private little secret of mine that I can enjoy any time I want to tip up one of the flowers, and they really are beautiful if I take the time to look.

These Modest Flowers are Eagerly Awaited

Some Brits seem to be over the top for snowdrops (Galanthus). They are certainly one of the most welcome of plants to see bloom but...


Winter aconite (Eranthis hyemalis)is cheap, reliable and a spot of pleasure in an otherwise bleak landscape.


Witch-hazel varieties like this one (Arnold Promise) deliver on the promise of something cheerful to look at early in the spring warm-up.

Winter finally broke. The snow hasn't all melted yet, but it is on the run, and my thermometer says 70 degrees, yippee. People seem to come out of the woodwork on these first warm days of spring and walk around the public garden I work for (Kingwood Center), presumably expecting the landscape to be transformed. I suppose they are disappointed to find the duck feeding with the kids is inhibited by the ice that still covers about 90% of the pond, and there is precious little sign of spring in the gardens. There are a few things blooming and they are the topic of my lifestyle garden homily for today. These first few warm days of March are hugely important to people's spirits. Give yourself a reward on these sorts of days by having those handful of super-early bloomers in your yard like the three pictured above. They may not compare to what is to come, but they are probably some of the most appreciated flowers in the garden.

Enduring Snow

Its been a long winter (albiet pretty as the above image of my driveway suggests). I can't recall having such a long period of continuous snow cover; and its not just some snow; its been mostly a foot or more. I lost patience a few of weeks ago and went out to a grove of young black locusts that I like to call my "coppice" in order to do some "forest management." This is how I have fun when I'm not digging in the dirt. Just walking around in the deep snow was about as much exercise as I could manage. I couldn't even bring a wagon to haul anything away. I like to stay active in the garden and landscape throughout the year. Typically there are plenty of things to do in the winter that are productive and that will reduce the work load in the growing season. I have to admit to being largely thwarted this winter. Today is March second and the snow is only ever so gradually melting. Instead of borrowing a log splitter I have been splitting my wood by hand, since I had the time, the energy and the glorious luxury of a barn to work in.

Common Cowslip

Late winter is the time for ordering new plants, and I have recently placed a flurry of new orders, each of which I am very excited about, of course. I also plan to order several primroses but haven't yet. Several years ago Tom Buchter moved to Ohio and the Holden Arboretum (he has since moved on)and quipped that he looked forward to growing lots of primroses now that he was in Ohio. Ever since, I have been wondering why I didn't grow more. Over the last few years I have been acquiring several very satisfying species and varieties of primrose including what seems to be generally regarded as "that common old cowslip" (Primula veris). I once blogged about the joys of esoterica in plants. Today its the joys of the "taken for granted" or the perceived mundane. As I have been casting about to see where I might pick up a few good primrose candidates I have been looking to expand my successful planting of cowslip. While I am not challenged to find a source, I am surprised at how seldom it is offered for sale given its beauty, versatility and reliability. I'm almost embarrassed by how much I relish the plant, but only almost. Come on, its a great plant, and actually it is not very widely used. Why isn't there more enthusiasm for it?

Built for Outdoor Living

We visited Beaufort, South Carolina shortly before Thanksgiving and everywhere we went people commented on how wonderful the weather was and how great it was to live in the South. (Perhaps they were playing to my Midwest accent.)At any rate, we had fun walking around town and looking at some fabulous old homes, all built with outdoor living in mind. For example, the front porches on the house pictured above anticipated people spending a lot of quality time escaping the heat of the house during the summer and, in this particular case, catching cool breezes from the bay. Air conditioning has changed our connection with the outdoors. It is easy to retreat into an air conditioned home and forget completely about the weather and the outdoors in general. I think that causes us to miss something important in life. Sure, escape uncomfortable weather when you can, but come back out every now and then to sit in some favorite retreat on the porch overlooking the garden, or sit in a spot with the garden all around you like the bottom picture. Part of the lifestyle garden is keeping in touch with nature and you can't do that holed up with air conditioning. Those front porches evoke romantic nostalgia for a reason. They were and continue to be great places to spend time.

Your Friend the Potato

Internal brown spots on Elba potato

I find potatoes to be one of the most gratifying of the annual food crops to grow. I know they can be purchased very inexpensively at the grocery store, but I do enjoy the bounty just the same.(And did you read what Michael Pollan said about pesticide usage on Idaho potatoes?) There is something especially satisfying about sinking a spade into the soil and unearthing a clump of potatoes. I also like the fact that I can store them. When I have grown crops with short shelf-lives like lettuce the eating opportunities came and went too fast, especially for those unnamed members of the household who found it more convenient to buy lettuce at the grocery store than to walk out into the garden and cut some. Aaarg.

One of the varieties of potatoes I have grown for the last two years is Elba. They are quite satisfactory, but they do have the curious propensity for brown spots in the middle of the largest of the tubers. (see picture above) Apparently not much is known about why this occurs, although most seem to think it is a physiological response to some sort of environmental stress. Anyway, it hasn't bothered me particularly. The spots are easy to cut out, and while they are said to reduce shelf-life I just use the largest potatoes first. They are the only ones with the spots.

I will be taking at least a year off from growing potatoes. 2009 was a horrific year for late blight. Fortunately I only had a small percentage of my crop damaged, but in order to avoid a major crop failure next year I think I will get out of potato growing for a while. I have not been very careful about removing all potential sources of inoculum; I don't want to spray; and I don't have a fresh bed available to rotate them into. Not to worry, I won't be lacking for other things to grow.