A Budding Buddleia

Woah. I knew nothing about buddleia until I found one growing in the monarda order received from High Country Gardens. The story started in early February after it began springing up ahead of the new monarda clump planted in the fall, as detailed in my [09.03.2012] post entitled "Name That Plant."

Growth was fast with a number of vertical stalks reaching toward the sky. In their comments, Janet and eu.phorbia were spot on in identifying the mystery plant from the few leaves displayed in my pictures. Once I was convinced it was buddleia, it was moved to an area where it could spread its wings. I have seen some sprawling specimens that were out of control. After its first season of growth, this one is about 4-feet high (1.2 m).

Not wanting a sparse wild plant, I began strategically trimming it several times to encourage some branching and infill. It worked, sort of, but the trimming also delayed flowering so I did not know its color until last month. It still looks a little gangly.

So where are the butterflies? None here. They sure like my zinnias, though. I did not know the buddleia flowers were fragrant (to humans).

I discovered that the plant keeps on blooming since I have been trimming the dead blooms off. I also discovered that this is important to keep the plant from becoming an invasive. King County Washington outlines its Class B Noxious Weed classification.

"It can grow in very challenging conditions, such as cracks in the pavement and along railroads. Invasion of butterfly bush along riversides is especially problematic, because it forms dense thickets, crowds out native vegetation, and disrupts natural succession patterns. A study at Longwood Gardens in Pennsylvania found that a single flower spike produced 40,000 seeds. The germination rate of several cultivars was 80 percent or higher. Seeds remain viable in the soil for 3 to 5 years. Butterfly bush can re-sprout from the rootstock after it can been damaged or cut down to its base, and the cut stems can grow into new plants."

For The Record:   • Heavy clay soil with gypsum & organic amendments   • Partial sun   • No serious pests/disease   • Mildly sweet smelling blooms   • Continuous blooming Garden Calendar:   • Blooming: pink cosmos, mexican zinnia. zinnia, cleome, rudbeckia, rose, green coneflower, green nicotiana   • Harvested: 1 pepper, 12 tomatoes, 5 cucumbers

July 2012 Flowers In The House

In July we hosted Dinner on (the) Deck. It was a hot evening, and the garden was melting. A few greens and cool colors were used on the table to chill down my guests without turning the garden hose on them. White buddleia adds some sweetness. Coconut Lime echinacea join a few purple coneflower seed heads with loosetrife greenery.

Dinner consisted of spiedies, chopped Mediterranean salad, and grilled vegetables with seasoned potatoes. A guest brought homemade pickles. Raspberry sorbet with fresh berries and a Ghirardelli raspberry chocolate wafer topped off dessert. Better living through food.

Visit and bring your vase to Flowers In The House at Jane's blog Small But Charming.

One Bourbon, One Scotch, One Beer

One tomato, one pepper, one cuke. Singing the gardener's blues. With all the work in the garden thus far, that's all I got. It's enough to drive you to drinkin.

One Bourbon, One Scotch, One Beer came to mind when picking the first tomato and first pepper this morning to join the one cucumber - before the temperature climbs above 100 (38° C) again for the sixth time this summer. I was not looking for the weather to grill my vegetables while still on the vine.

It's the middle of summer and there's not much to show yet. Thankfully we don't have the drought conditions here that a good part of the country has. Rainfall in our area is way down for the year, but there have been a few quick storms that left a little in their wake.

The surprise cucumber was accidentally discovered yesterday evening. I have been watching the tomato for the past week as it tried to ripen and held my breath that a squirrel would not take a chunk out of it.

The pepper is new to me. Seeds were touted by a lady at the February seed exchange [posted 2012.02.11] as a 'Hungarian Pepper' grown every year because it was the best. The internet tells me there are oodles of peppers with this name; some hot, some not. Fast forward to last month, and a few long yellow peppers appeared on the plant. They were left to see how large they would grow, and if they would turn red or orange. This one started to turn, so I brought it in today with the tomato. My 8-inch long (20 cm) Hungarian pepper's appearance is not unlike those infernal red Thai peppers - let's hope not - I don't need peppers to go along with the weather.

PS - The pepper was not hot. It was very flavorful but there's not a lot of pepper.

Garden Calendar:   • Blooming: zinnia, rudbeckia, cleome, cosmos, sunflowers, nicotiana, echinacea, platycodon, cardoon   • Harvested: 1 pepper, 1 tomato, 1 cucumber, several cherry tomatoes

Addition To The Manscape

Cardoon (Cynara cardunculus) became one of my new additions to the manscape, joining the canna, sunflowers, knipophia, castor bean, cactus, and large leaf hostas. Plants in the mascape make a statement. They have big in-your-face thick foliage and rugged unique flowers. There is nothing dainty or subtle with their imposing architectural stature. They are tough, mostly tall, need their space, love to compete and win. They don't need constant attention or tender loving care, easily surviving winters, summer droughts, pests, and harsh soil conditions. You don't find a lot of neutrals, pinks, or lavenders.

On a visit to Wililamsburg a few years ago, I stopped at the colonial garden plot. There was a 8-foot tall (2.5 m) cardoon with intense blue flowers on the top, and large 1-foot long (30 cm) leaves. When my landscape architect friends offered a few cardoon plants to me last fall, I eagerly accepted and planted them in the south-facing side yard against the brick house. They stayed green all winter, began growing in March, and reached 6-foot (2 m) in height. Now they are blooming atop the artichoke bud.

The 4-inch (10 cm) spherical cardoon flowers look like a thistle on steroids - ten times as large and with an ice blue color. Cardoons are members of the artichoke family and are a type of thistle. I find them big attractions for pollinators like carousing bumble bees who spend the night on the flowers, and awake in morning sleepy and lethargic as hangover victims.

One source states "I've found that cardoons offer excellent habitat for Ladybugs to breed and multiply in, so our cardoon patch not only serves as a food crop, it's also an insectary that benefits the rest of our more common vegetable crops." I have seen ladybug nymphs on my cardoons this spring.

Native to the Mediterranean region, the stalks have been a food for centuries according to ancient Greek records, and were even cultivated by American colonists. Some sources claim they are an invasive species - so I guess they fit right in with my gardens. They are sold in a handful of farmer's markets today, and can be found in French, African, and especially Italian cuisine. Recipes for Cardoon Gratin, Sauteed Cardoon with Thyme and Pine Nuts, Cardoon-Pasta, Pureed Cardoon Soup, bechamels, and stews can be found on the internet. So can growing instructions.

I was intrigued enough to look into harvesting them for grilled pizza. The stalks (resembling celery) are blanched while growing for about two weeks before harvest - and they are harvested before they bloom. One method for blanching includes include wrapping the stems with straw and manure, which unfortunately (or fortunately) I don't have a lot of on hand. It is too late in the season to harvest my cardoons, but maybe next year.

For The Record:   • Heavy clay soil with a few amendments   • Full sun, normal water   • No fertilizer   • Pests include leafhoppers, black aphids, spider mites Garden Calendar:   • Blooming: pink cosmos, mexican zinnia, rudbeckia, cleome, echinacea,     lavender, cardoon, zinnia, platycodon, echinops, nicotiana, monarda, liatris   • Harvested: 28 cherry tomatoes

Greenie Beanies

This post was written 6/30 but because of the nasty storms then, could not be posted until power and internet access was restored today.

The goodie bag I was handed at the February seed exchange had a packet of seeds for green beans, "Contender." String beans are not my favorite vegetable (yes, I love broccoli) but I can eat them. Because of this, the limited space in the vegetable plot is usually reserved for only most-favored status.

I planted all the seeds (about two dozen) and fertilized with hope, but not with expectation. If I got a harvest, I needed to dig out the bean salad and almandine recipes I never made. If not, the plants could party in the annual compost pile with the radishes. But at least the legumes could fix some nitrogen to the soil, right?

The Contender bush beans sprouted first as food for the night stalkers. After a little treatment with Sluggo and diatomaceous earth, they were off to the races.

Some very hot days and some nice cool days passed and I quickly got my first harvest. Some of the beans were curled into C-shapes. I asked a farmer at a local farmer's market how he grows nice straight beans while my beans were naturally curly. I was told that some varieties do that better than others, and that dry spells between watering can also contribute to this. He grew a variety called 'Valentino' and found "Contender" not to his liking. My green beauties eventually ended up in a 5-bean salad with some of the farmer's yellow beans. (After cornering the market on every type of canned beans in the grocery store, I saw the fine print on the recipe that it could be a 4-bean salad, or 3-bean salad...next time.)

Recently I harvested some red romaine after arriving home from work one sunny 90 degree (32° C) afternoon. It was beginning to grow a stalk, and begging to be eaten. Thank goodness it was not bitter for leaving it in the heat, so for companionship, I gave it some red cherry tomatoes (Sweet 100) and a red 'nonion' (marble-sized onion) all from the garden. Other store produce was incorporated too. The resulting salad was intensely relished. The rest of the red romaine will be picked today after yesterday's 104 degree record (40° C).

Since this is a garden blog, I usually don't photograph food, but maybe once in a while I can show the final outcome of the garden goodies.

For The Record:   • Good garden soil with good drainage   • Full sun, 90% of day   • Small amount of organic fertilizer   • Munching insects in early season Garden Calendar:   • Blooming: pink cosmos, mexican zinnia, zinnia, rudbeckia, monarda, hosta, loosestrife, cardoon, daisy, echinops,     platydcodon, cleome, echinacea, daylily   • Harvested: lettuce, cherry tomatoes, green beans, 1 red onion

June 2012 Flowers In The House

You can stop in for breakfast on the deck to catch the morning sun with our hydrangeas. They are a few days old from the al fresco dinner this past weekend, but with a little hydrangea left in them.

Finish a lazy coffee - come inside and leave the dishes on the dining table next to the vase in the precarious corner position to get good light for the photo. It's got some extra items found around the yard this weekend - coconut lime and purple coneflowers, crazy daisies, and lavender.

Visit other gardeners Flowers In The House at Jane's Small But Charming and maybe show off what you have.

St. John's Wort Treats Garden Gloom

As many know, St. Johns Wort (Hypericum calycinum) is used as an herbal remedy for mild depression. Around my garden, it treats the gloomy, sad area also know as the space beneath the photinia shrub - the dry, shady, clay, snail-infested territory. Snails are slow-paced fellows and have no need for anti-depressants.

I picked up my one St. John's Wort 'Brigadoon' at our neighborhood plant swap three years ago. Its chartreuse leaves were a cheery pick-me-up for the dark depressing spot where the photinas prevented any happiness from growing. It put out a few new shoots in year I while continuing to allow soil to wash into my lawn (excuse me - since I am a master gardener, the term is turf.) In year II, a few more shoots and one flower was all it could muster. I began to think the internet lied about an easy-growing perennial. Now year III sees it filling in nicely and maturing to the ground cover and erosion control it was born to be.

Besides its slow growth (good because I already have ample invasive plants to control), it is only about 6-inches high (15 cm). Yellow flowers are not very abundant. The leaves darken with age, but remain light enough to brighten up a shade.

Now the interesting facts. The name comes for is bloom time around June 24 when the birthday of St. John the Baptist is celebrated. It is believed to be native to Europe and Asia, and maybe western US, and has been classified as an invasive noxious weed in some countries, especially where cattle and livestock are raised. Ingestion by livestock can cause photosensitization, central nervous system distress, depression, spontaneous abortion, and can lead to death. How can you tell if a cow is depressed? All cows seem depressed to me. Maybe I am confusing depression with laid-back.

It was used by early Greeks for ailments including nervous disorders. Studies have proven it as effective as Prozac in the treatment of mild to moderate depression, but are inconclusive for severe depression. The major downer for taking St. John's Wort is its dangerous side effects from interactions with other medications and herbs.

For The Record:   • Heavy clay soil with gypsum & organic amendments with small amount of fertilizer   • Full light shade   • No serious pests or disease   • Slow growing Garden Calendar:   • Blooming: echinacea, daisy, lily, daylily, nicotiana, cleome, hydrangea, loostrife, hosta, astilbe, lavender   • Harvested: radish, beans

Full Figured Frances Williams

I did have a few moments last week to photograph and write about the Frances Williams hosta (Hosta sieboldiana), between a national convention, picnics, and happy hour in a whirlwind weekend. One of my only two plants from the 'famous Walmart collection' is now in its third year, and it continues to improve and impress. This year, Frances Williams is larger than life and reaching her full figured size. Look at those ginormous quilted 1-foot (30 cm) leaves! No slug can gnaw through that thick hide.

Frances Williams was an American hosta connoisseur and breeder. This was one of the first big leaf hostas, so it became very popular despite its shortcomings. What are they? First, like the best vampires, there is an intolerance to sunlight and summer heat. Second, it is slow to grow and mature with age. I read that the less green on a host leaf, the more sun tolerant it is.

He or she? Frances was a she. And she has 17 hostas to her credit, along with a notable impact on the American Hosta scene. This particular plant was given one name by Ms. Williams, but renamed in honor of her at a later date. Two different stories emerge about its origins. Did she breed this or find it in a batch of seedlings in the 1930s? Regardless, it was one of the most popular hostas for a very long time. Newer varieties improved on its deficiencies, but it is still around as an original.

My plant was purchased from Walmart and split into two after my infamous shopping trip there three years ago. I have been back a few times since, and have never seen anything like the selection available then.

Each year, the colorful leaves emerge bigger than the last. Flowers are on sturdy stalks, about 18-inches tall (45 cm). And each year, the plant develops crispy burnt leaves toward mid summer. In truth, it gets direct morning sun for about 3 hours. Its size has increased in direct proportion to the organic amendments I add to the clay between her toes.

Growing between the two gals is Gold Standard - a perfect companion. It has chartreuse leaves with green edges, as opposed to Frances with her green leaves with chartreuse edges. Goldie is lower growing with more-pointed leaves that gradually change over the growing season from chartreuse to gold yellow. Flowers are unimpressive, but we don't grow them for floral arrangements. I lucked out with another pair of plants with great complimenting colors. Tell them I planned it that way.

For The Record:   • Heavy clay soil with lots of organic amendments   • Mostly moist shade, a little direct morning sun   • Small amount of organic fertilizer   • Slugs and something else eating small holes in Goldie   • Burnt leaf edges in summer due to heat and direct sun (I think) Garden Calendar:   • Blooming: Echinacea, nicotiana, daylily, peony poppy, hosta, tradescantia   • Harvested: Radishes

Mastery Over The Radish

There's nothing like a crisp, crunchy, sweet, solid, mildly tangy radish. I looked forward to this every spring for the past ten years. But, a master gardener with landscape architect friends growing up with a gardening mom could not grow radishes. They were supposed to be easy. School children grew them. Master gardeners in my class either looked with pity on me or laughed when I told them of my inadequacy.

Every year my radishes (Raphanus sativus) sprouted. Every year they grew beautiful green foliage. End of story. As you can tell from the photos, this year was fulfillment. Break open the champagne and strike up the hallelujah chorus: it's time to celebrate! I was so excited to document the proof that I didn't even wash them before their photo shoot.

This is the only plant that I refused to give up on. I was going to grow radishes one way or another. I am not sure what did the trick this year, but here is my experience, failure by failure.

After successive seasons sans radishes (in truth, I would eek out maybe two or three from the batch):
• I tried a different variety, moving from Cherry Belle to Champion for the next two years. It was not a champ.
• From there, I moved to Japanese white icicle radishes. The seed companies got richer.
• I read that radishes bolted when the weather got hot. So, I planted early. Instead of 30 days, they took 60 days to mature (again in warm weather).
• I tried slow release fertilizer next year.
• I read that they should not be fertilized, so I left off all fertilizer and soil amendments.
• I read they need more sun than my back garden might be providing, so I moved them to the side garden with lots of sun.
• I read they can't have too much water, so I did not water them when the weather became dry.
  
• This year, I tried them in the front cottage flower garden, and got radishes.

So, the front yard had the right stuff. And best of all, they contributed to the cottage garden. My 2012 radishes created a green leafy border while the zinnia and alyssum volunteers mature enough to take on their border duty. They join the spinach, pepper, onions, lettuce, and basil planted among the blooms. (The green nicotiana look so great because they overwintered. Anyone need a seedling or two?) Tidbits of information: written history shows the Greeks grew them, but no one is sure where they came from. They are planted as a companion crop because of their ability to attract flea beetles that go for the leaves (and not other plants) while not harming the crop below ground. Is there a plant that is your nemeses - everyone on the planet can grow except you? Update: The variety this year was Crimson Giant

For The Record:   • Variety: Crimson Giant   • Drained, fairly good loose soil   • Full sun   • No fertilizer   • Some slug (or flea beetle) damage to foliage Garden Calendar:   • Blooming: Echinacea, nicotiana, coreopsis, peony poppy, geranium, cactus, asiatic lily   • Harvested: 5 radish

Dueling Red Hot Pokers

OK. Que up the music from Deliverance. The red hot pokers (Kniphofia uvaria) are playing out a duet yet sparring with each other. Here's their updated story.

They were planted from seed about four years ago after I saw them and thought they looked really cool and different. (I'm a sucker for those botanical attributes.) Three plants took and grew and bloomed in their second year. And grew. And grew. I wrote about their first bloom two years ago [posted 26.06.2010] and the reasons I fell out of love with them:
  • they bloom a very short time
  • they look like a tangled mess for half the year
  • they take up too much space

I moved them to a new location in the side yard last year. These things required no finesse during the transplanting, and this year, are blooming better than ever.

I found, however, that one of the plants is different from the other two normal ones, although they all have spread into a giant blob of leaves. The redneck plant has flower stalks that are taller than the others and with a greater diameter - about the size of a silver dollar (4 cm). The flowers are longer at about 9 inches (20 cm). The flowers are a different red-orange color with no discernible yellow in them, and the leaves are bigger and lighter green. They appear to be fighting with the two normals in the background, which are now spreading out with new shoots.

So in two years they have grown into yet another mess, only this time they are right along the walking steps to the back yard. I think that once again I must move these brutes to a new location (maybe to the neighbor's yard). They can't seem behave themselves.

For The Record:   • Heavy clay soil with gypsum & organic amendments   • Full sun   • No fertilizer   • Leaves partially die back in winter   • Needs lots of space   • Short bloom time Garden Calendar:   • Blooming: salvia, calendula, nicotianas, coreopsis, cactus, eschscholzia

California In Virginia

A month earlier than last year, the California Poppies (Eschscholzia californica) are blooming their pretty little butts off. These are the same that were planted from a free seed mixture last year and overwintered on the south side of the house in my protected micro climate. As reported earlier, these annuals can survive a winter if there is no severe ground freeze (as in last year's mild winter.)

There were yellow, orange, and creamy white last spring and grew about 6-inches tall (15 cm). The white ones disappeared this year, and the plants that overwintered are a bit taller at a foot (30 cm). There are also some interesting variations in the remaining oranges and yellows. Some yellows have an orange halo on the interiors. Some of the oranges have a deeper orange blush within the petals.

I like a plant that requires a second look. From a distance, my California Poppies are solid yellow and orange. Closer, the details in the color variations of petals are evident. Foliage is feathery blue-green. The seed pods are long tubular spikes, some evident in the photo.

They make a poor cut flower since they open in the sun, and close at night and on cloudy days. That's a bummer when trying to photograph them. Bright direct sunlight is too harsh and contrasty for plant photography.

I learned that these are native wildflowera to the Unites States, and have been introduced in Austrailia, Chilie, and Europe. In Chilie and the US, they can be behave like an invasive species.

They are drought-tolerant and do best in poor soil. That explains why they love my garden - in my clay without a lot of organic material. They like cool weather and disappeared during last year's summer.

For The Record:   • Clay soil with good drainage on a slope   • Full sun, south side of a brick house   • No serious pests or disease Garden Calendar:   • Blooming: nicotiana, salvia, allium, calendula, bearded iris

April 2012 Flowers In The House

Indoor flowers on the last Monday of the month
I brought in a few rhododendrons from the tangle of rhodies in the rear corner of the yard - otherwise known as the last frontier. This area has yet to be tamed, while the rest of the front and back have been cultivated. "Anything grows" is the motto for this dark inaccessible jungle. I keep promising myself to explore it someday, and eventually tame the savage plants that make it their home.

We can't have rhododendrons indoors without something to tickle the olfactory senses since with rhodies you just look, not smell. Thanks to a two month head start from the mild winter, the white nicotiana now blooming add a little bit of perfume to the arrangement. (Did I just call it an arrangement? I don't arrange - just stick in a container that holds water and plants.)

Now, if I can only work on lighting for these indoor shots.
Find other garden bloggers' Flowers In The House at Jane's blog Small But Charming.