On The Road From Asheville

You probably notice I am still writing about my September trip to North Carolina here in December. I am trying to stretch out the posts to cover the winter months. In my rental car from Ashville back to Greensboro for the start of my convention, I stopped off in a small botanical garden in Kernersville. A speaker at one of my Master Gardener classes recommended the place after I told her of my garden trips around my convention trips.

On a sunny day I pulled into the Paul J Ciener Botanical Garden parking lot. There was a large planting along the edge of the parking lot and a new building on the other end. I learned after talking with the attendant in the building that the planting was the botanical garden. There is a master plan and nice map of the five acres planned for development, but at this time, the parking lot garden was it.

The site had been a car dealership. The owner of the business left it with some money to start a botanical garden, so the entire place is relatively new. I thought this was a fitting use for the land after its run as a paved lot selling cars. These are a few of the items that captured my attention, as alien life form never seen before. Excuse my photography in harsh direct sunlight.

Around the building was a walk with annuals and vegetables, and along the path was this pepper plant never seen or heard of before. Yes, one plant had purple, red, yellow, orange, and cream color peppers growing on it like multi-colored candies. I must know what this was.

Colocasia in extra large - not elephant ears, but I would say dinosaur ears is a more appropriate term.

Bananas in variegated leaves are new to me, or were these diseased?

And finally, what in the world is this egg growing out from each cluster of orange star flowers?

Asheville McMansion

Three days in Asheville, North Caroline. The blue isle in a sea of red is what I saw on the local television news analyzing the upcoming the election. I drove out from Greensboro while there for a convention in September. One full day was spent at the Biltmore.

The landmark home held my interest for an entire day. After the architect's tour, the butler's tour, and a lunch with fried green tomatoes (for only the second time in this native New Yorker's life) it was time to head to the gardens and greenhouse. This is a garden blog after all. So enjoy lots of pictures with some little comment and thoughts.

Front
There were no suburban foundation plantings at the front entrance. But MY! Look at the size and contents of some of the planters along the front!

A staff member explained that there were planters at the front originally, but they did not contain the same plants we see there now.

The front lawn was, well, expansive - before riding mowers came along. The original rows of linden trees died out from disease and were replanted with a stronger variety. Notice the small one on the end - the new replacements continue to die in this one location. It's cursed. (By a gargoyle's evil eye?)

Water Gardens
The first stop was at the sunken garden. It featured three water gardens.

Notice the formal plan and shapes of the ponds: Informally arranged plants within the formal outline of the ponds.

Some large tall non-water plants were sneekily planted above the water (bananas for example), looking like they were growing in the ponds, too. I did not know that (what looks like) canna could grow in standing water. They might look better than the ratty cattails in the highly visible stormwater management basins plopped around here after the roads and Potomac River's Wilson Bridge was widened.

Annuals Garden
A path from the sunken garden to the greenhouse crossed what I call the annuals gardens - right down the middle.

Each side of a pleasant trellis-covered walk looked onto a large expanse of grass and beds of mundane annuals. Quantity (of some of my least favorite annuals) rather than quality inspired admiration. Where could one find the largest grasshopper in American but at the largest house in America.

But wait, look at some of the beds along the perimeter walk: Bananas, canna, and castor bean.

Greenhouse

The greenhouse was stuffed with plants - maybe a little overstuffed? --Every cactus and succulent under the sun (or glass.) It's larger than a lot of botanical gardens and commercial greenhouses.

Guarding an entrance was a harmonious combination of purple castor bean plants (Ricinus communis) and elephant ears (Colocasia esculenta) I believe were Mojito. Yellow Brugmansia were in bloom outside on a terrace.

Gone With The Wind

I ventured out in middle of hurricane Sandy to pick fresh herbs for minestrone soup. I must have been nuts, but the oregano, cutting celery, and basil did the soup well. The gardens did not do as well though.

The 8-foot tall (2.5 m) castor bean plants were flattened. These annuals were going to go when we get our first frost, so it's no loss. They were staked up a bit after a thunderstorm in August bent them over.

The Tuscany basil was blown to one side, like someone combs their hair to one side. Zinnias, another annual, were smacked down. The lonely second season sunflower was flattened. The sunflowers were picked and brought indoors for late flowers in the house - along with a few tomatoes still going.

But Sandy left a little new autumn gift in the deck. Some type of fungal growth appeared along the seams in the wood platform steps, probably where dirt and gunk accumulated. In two days (after the rain stopped) it all vanished.

Fortunately, there were no power outages beyond a few minutes. No one in my neighborhood was flooded, although the low lying areas were evacuated because of flooding in the past five years. We await more surprises climate change may bring in the future.

Fall Tower of Sunflower

Dwarf sunflowers (Helianthus annuus) are always found in my summer garden, because, well, I have a very small house on a very small property. In addition, tall sunflowers are too overwhelming and gangly for my taste (although I have admired a tight grouping of them.)

Just about every winter, I comb through the garden catalogs searching out the shorties to try during the upcoming summer. Altogether I have tried about a half dozen varieties [posted 2009.08.25]. Last year, I never ordered any and can't remember what the reason was.

With no seed for the summer, I made a panic purchase at the local home improvement store when the tulips were blooming. Burpee's Big Blush came home and a spot was reserved along the front driveway. But, I could not find the seed when it came time to plant. "Did I really purchase them?" I wondered. I instead planted the same variety as before that I found in my tin of leftover seed, Waooh [posted 2010.09.02].

I eventually stumbled across the seeds I bought earlier in spring. The summer sunflowers were done blooming for the season in August. After they were ripped out, I thought, "Why not plant some more? Time to start another experiment." So a second crop of dwarf sunflowers (actually 3 seeds) were planted in the same spot; one came up.

I have good results to report from last week. With the frost holding off, one tower began its run. One could guess the dwarf varieties could do this since their growing season is a little shorter than the tall ones. A 40-inch high (1 m) stalk with all sorts of side flowers is blooming. Big Blush flowers are not unique, but the size of the side flowers and their associated stems is, resulting in great cut flowers from one plant.

Was this an anomaly? If not, this could become a habit from now on - something to replace the old sunflowers once they finish their summer blooming. On a second note, the Waooh sunflower seeds were harvested and are most appreciated by chickadees.

For The Record:   • Fertile soil & organic amendments   • Full sun   • No fertilizer   • Chomping pests during summer germination Garden Calendar:   • Blooming: Mexican zinnia, zinnia, sunflower, echinacea, pineapple sage   • Harvested: 1 pepper, 1 tomato

October 2012 Bloom Day

Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day
What's blooming in the garden on the 15th of the month

Gosh, everything seems to be red, yellow, orange this time of year (or brown.) And gosh, I haven't participated in a Gardnen Bloggers Bloom Day since April. So, here are a few noteworthy stragglers hanging on as fall is teetering on the first frost.

Note the sunflower beginning to bloom. There is a story here that I will tell in a future post. You can find other garden bloggers' bloom days at the blog May Dreams Gardens.

Acidanthera		Zinnia elegans 'Canary Bird'
Castor Plant (Ricinus communis)		Zinnia elegans 'Canary Bird'

Zinnia augustifolia
Zinnia agustifolia with dwarf sunflower
Salvia elegans 'Pineapple Sage'

Radishes Forever

Why is there another post about my radishes?
  a. There is a radish fetish
  b. These are special radishes
  c. Getting old and senile, forgetting radishes were
      previously posted
  d. All of the above

Here's the story. You may have previously read about my problems with radishes [posted 2012.05.29], and my good fortune this year. I had the best radish crop yet this past spring.

However, some of the plants did not produce anything, so I let them grow and flower. The blooms attracted a small army of bees over a long period into summer.

I thought these scrawny plants would never die. They formed an ugly border for months in the front yard cottage garden for all the neighborhood to notice. Cool weather radishes appear to be rather tough and hold up to droughts and summer heat. Finally the flowers turned to plump seed pods in the middle of July.

I harvested the seeds and planted them in early September for a fall harvest - first time I planted for a fall crop of anything. Only about half the seeds germinated, either because I went on vacation just as they needed water to sprout, or many of the seeds were not pollinated. My new fall crop was pulled up (30 days just like on seed packets) just as the first frost is predicted. View one, along with some of their Hungarian buddies.

Pineapple Rag

So I found myself in Delaplane Virginia for the annual spring strawberry festival. Disappointed that the strawberries bering sold were Driscoll's imported from California (and higher priced than the same in the grocery stores), I headed for the craft booths. I wandered down Booth Row and through the endless assortment of hummingbird and butterfly stained glass, country dolls, soap, and banners (I am probably insulting some readers here), and found a corner vendor selling plants.

The herb table was most interesting. I picked up a Pineapple Sage (Salvia elegans) and chatted with the owner who pointed out its virtues and its growing requirements. So it will grow into a small bush, cuttings can be taken, and it will die in the fall.

It was planted in my hillside, side south-facing garden and pretty much forgotten about. Once in a while, I picked off a leaf to enjoy the pineapple scent. And, I was fond of picking one off for any visitors (on a garden 'tour' before dinner) to enjoy. Internet indications are that it makes good tea and pina colada garnishments.

Leaves were always light chartreuse and stood out next to the castor and rosemary plants. Its color seemed to be a theme in the back yard without trying (St. John's Wort, hostas, coleus.) And then this month, it began blooming.

To say the red on the Pineapple Sage (Salvia elegans) is brilliant is an understatement. Only two other plants have this red intensity at this time of year - cosmos and crocosmia, and my crocosmia died years ago. The 18-inch high (50 cm) plant filled in without trimming. The square stems and blooms are a giveaway as a mint family member. In fact, I noticed the flowers look like salvia, which (wow) is in the botanical name.

Indications on internet sites are that the plant dies down at frost, but the root clump remains viable over winter to my zone (7A). Since I have enough going on bringing plants indoors during the fall, I think I will test out this overwinter theory and just mulch the roots for the winter.

I am please with the outcome of this purchase. And will even look at pineapple sage recipes if it comes back next year. Pineapple sage salsa anyone?

For The Record:   • Heavy clay soil with some organic amendments   • Full sun   • No fertilizer   • No serious pests/disease Garden Calendar:   • Blooming: canna, mexican zinnia, zinnia, sage, aster   • Harvested: 2 tomatoes, 1 radish

On Deck

Come on up the stairs for dinner on the deck. That's my second year of container gardening in the corner. I started one last year after seeing all the great containers that bloggers were posting on their blogs. This year's looks better, and I even added a second container full of sweet potato vines.

That's 'Red Star Cordyline' (Dracena) in the center. I brought it indoors last winter, kept it alive, and used it to center the container again this year. Simple cream petunias and red Calibrachoa work with the color scheme, with the calibrachoa spilling over the edges. In the summer, these needed watering every other day.

Just drop in and have a seat. Every chair rocks a little. Go ahead and put your legs up while I fix a snack on the grille.
Haven't seen you in a while, and never saw you decked
out in brown before - very appropriate for this time of year.
And, pardon me, but my have you grown, (especially
around the bottom.)

September Lilies

With a lull in the garden, there are a few individual specimens of note at this time of year that do not have much story associated with them. But, I want to record these here for future reference.

The rain lilies (Zephyranthes candida) are in their second year. First found on a visit to the Dallas Arboretum, planted and reported last year [posted 2011.09.15], they survived the winter, and multiplied somewhat. I find that they only begin blooming in late summer and fall here, and they really do come out after rain. They seem to bloom in cycles - about every two weeks for a week with some precipitation.

These are the white variety, as some can be pink or pale cream-yellow. My leaves are not as substantial and grass-like as those in Dallas, - but are almost invisible during the summer. Flowers remind me of crocus when they pop out, and close up at night.

The belamcamda lily (Iris domestica) was started indoors from seeds obtained at the February seed exchange [posted 2012.02.12]. Three plants germinated; only one survived. When transplanted outdoors, additional seeds were planted in the garden with no results. I wish there were others to keep this lonely one company.

The 24-inch high plant (60 cm) successfully produced a number of blossoms with associated seed pods. The expectation is that they will open to reveal clusters resembling blackberries (it is also know as the blackberry lily.)

The perennial plant originates in China, and was formerly known as Belamcanda chinensis, but like many other plants, DNA sequencing indicates it to belong elsewhere in the plant kingdom - in the iris family. It was renamed. Current ongoing research centers on its possible use as a treatment of prostate cancer.

For The Record:   • No fertilizer   • Full sun   • No serious pests/disease Garden Calendar:   • Blooming: pink cosmos, canna, mexican zinnia, zinnia, cosmos, zepharanthes,     coconut lime echinacea

So This Is Invasive

When looking into the information about my cardoon (Cynara cardunculus) this summer, [posted 2012.07.07] I ran across several sources that label it as an invasive species, especially on the U.S. west coast. According to the USDA Invasive and Noxious Plants List, California brands it as a noxious weed. Now I know why. The tall plant has some rather voluminous, nasty looking (although not very sharp) cauldrons of seeds. They dried during the summer and broke open, spewing thousands of silky, airy, floating seeds to populate my neighbors' yards. I can't wait until they find artichokes growing in their lawn next year.

I can see why this is considered an invasive in some parts with a seed dispersal system like this. One hopes for my sake that they do not easily germinate next year.

The cardoon plants were cut down after they went to seed last month. I was thinking it was an annual, and began planning for what could take its place next year. But after my week long vacation trip, I came home to find the darn thing is growing again! No, it is NOT an annual. I need to add its move to the fall chores list, since I will not keep it in its present location. One good point: I have lots of contributions for the annual gardeners seed exchange that I attend in late January.

Garden Calendar:   • Blooming: pink cosmos, cosmos, canna, mexican zinnia, zinnia, acidanthera, coneflower   • Harvested: 2 tomatoes, 1 cucumber

One Potato, Too

I, too have one sweet potato vine (Ipomoea batatas,) in a pot. I've seen a lot of them growing around, mostly in pots. I was awed by the trials at the Dallas Arbotetum [posted 03.10.2010], and thought that if they survive the heat in Dallas, they would surely like the hot dry conditions on my east facing deck.

This year, I have two planters on the deck, one of them a first-timer. So on a lazy day at Home Depot, I picked up a few items to plop in - some mini yellow zinnias and a sweet potato vine. To say the vine took over is an understatement. I daily pinch off a few leaves to allow the zinnias to poke through for a little sun. But both plants appear to cozily get along in their asymmetrical arrangement.

I liked the vine color, with new leaves starting maroon gradually turning green. Gives a bit of interest since I don't have any 'thrill' included (Thrill, fill, spill.) And the 'fill' zinnias are well behaved and seem to be overwhelmed and surprised. I thought I had the colors looking good, and then yesterday: a shocker. There was a flower on the potato vine. I turned around the planter and snapped a photo for proof.

I have never seen one blooming. After an excited check on the internet, with thoughts of naming a one-of-a-kind plant that I discovered, it turns out that sweet potato vines do indeed bloom. They are related to the morning glory family (are very distant to the potato), and are a tropical plant originating in Venezuela or Central America.

The tuberous potatoes are edible but according to sources, most have a poor flavor or even a bitter taste. They don't grow from seed like morning glories, but from cuttings. Looks like the other cuttings I take from outdoor plants will have new company this winter.

Now there are a few more blooms, and I can find several buds. Trouble is, the bloom color throws off the careful planning for the planter color scheme.

For The Record:   • Rich potting soil   • Full sun   • Small amount of slow-release fertilizer   • Requires water and easily wilts in hot dry weather   • No serious disease but some holes eaten in leaves Garden Calendar:   • Blooming: pink cosmos, cosmos, zinnia, canna, mexican zinnia, acidanthera, rudbeckia, salvia, nicotiana, asters   • Harvested: 2 peppers