Annual Annuus Report

If you read A Leafy Indulgence often (does anyone?), you know I try different dwarf sunflowers (Helianthus annuus) and peppers every year and report on them. This year the sunflower honor goes to Little Dorrit, although not much by choice.

When I cruised through the catalogs last year, I did not stop on dwarf sunflower pages. A lot of the varieties I saw were those I had planted before. Then I forgot about dwarf sunflowers until it was too late to order from a catalog. While at a local nursery, a rather expensive one (are there really any inexpensive ones?) I picked up (yes, it was purchased) a packet of Little Dorrit. There was nothing little about them.

First, I find during writing this post that Little Dorrit was a serial novel by Charles Dickens about debtors prisons, reversal of fortune, and newfound wealth. Not so with the sunflowers.

The Stats
They were planted in the usual sunny spot along the front walk to the house. They ended up taller than most dwarf sunflowers of my past experience at 4-feet in height (120 cm) when they were upright. The flowers were a whopping 11-inches in diameter (30 cm). This puts the blooms at a normal sunflower size. So, the plant height was dwarf, but not the flowers.

Each stalk produced one bloom - no multiples on this one. They grew fast, flowered, and were done. When the flowers reached their full size, they bent downward, preventing anyone from visually enjoying them. The flowers were balanced atop a large central seed head, with small petals arranged around it. The head of seeds will definitely end up feeding the cardinals, but did not make a great visual impression. Unfortunately, you must take my word - the photo was taken after Little Dorrit bloomed.

I found that some dwarfs will produce multiple blooms, and some do not. The ones with the most attractive blooms and larger petals tend to have the smaller seed heads, while the others are for the birds. Here is a quick trip through the varieties tried and written about in past years.

Burpee Big Blush Multi-bloom, attractive bloom	Waooh Great blooms, multi stem
Incredible Inconsistent height, bloom	Sunny Smile Truly dwarf, good bloom
Sunspot Large seed head

For The Record:   • Well drained soil with organic amendments   • Full sun   • Small amount of fertilizer   • Leaves ravaged by grasshopper or slugs Garden Calendar:   • Blooming: cosmos, echinacea, mexican zinnia, zinnias, lavender, rudbeckia, phlox, cleome, nicotiana   • Harvested: 1 pepper, 6 cucumbers, 1 zucchini

Sundown Goes Down

Several years ago, new echinacea varieties were the rage. Every garden catalog seemed to tout their company's latest propagations. I didn't buy an iPhone or iPad when they were first introduced to the world, but I was sucked into buying two new echinacea.

I consider the purple coneflower a gold standard for its toughness and its ability to grow. My clump has been divided numerous times. Coconut Lime was the first new variety that I reviewed [posted 2012.07.05]. All I can say is that I got my money's worth: reliable, interesting, pest resistant, and pretty much everblooming though the summer (better than the native purple coneflower.) Its new bred sibling is, however, is another story.

The second new echinacea was a salmon-orange number named Sundown and one of the five 'Big Sky' varieties. It came out roaring during its first spring, and then flamed out. The entire plant just gave up in the heat of summer. The second year was better, coming on strong again in the spring, only to just as strongly poop out by summer. It did stay alive and above ground. Last year, I noticed fewer blooms, but its leaves again stayed around until disappearing in the fall. They curled, turning a nice lovely brown before doing so. Flowers are listed as fragrant? Ha, right - in another world.

Not many blooms appeared this year, and most had inconsistent petal arrangement. I deadheaded, hoping for a repeat bloom. Leaves are turing a rust copper color today, maybe like a sundown on Mars. Always 30-inches high (75 cm), Sundown has never grown beyond its original size. These photos were taken in a previous year and this spring. Notice the lower leaves on the lower picture.

The location in a new bed with still-improving soil can be partly to blame for the performance and research indicates it needs more regular watering than the native. Further reading on garden forums paints a different picture than the catalogs. With their high expectations for the Big Sky series after reading the hype, other gardeners leave a trail of comments such as very disappointing, mutant, grew next to Chernobyl (my favorite), dud, Big Sky Coneflowers Suck, inferior, deformed, and stunted.

My advice: if you see Sundown for sale, run away.

For The Record:   • Moderate heavy clay soil with ongoing amendments   • Full sun   • Small amount of fertilizer   • Poor performer not lasting past spring   • No pests Garden Calendar:   • Blooming: cosmos, all zinnias, phlox, marigolds, sunflowers, echinacea, nicotiana, buddleia, rudbeckia   • Harvested: 2 peppers, 2 tomatoes, 8 cucumbers

My Blue Hedgehog

Although it's finished blooming and I did not get any great photos while it was in full bloom, I need to show off my prickly echinops (Echinops ritro) this year. This is was another donation from my landscape architect friends - one that did well.

It was planted about four years ago in the sloping side yard garden and did not do much. Oh sure, it reliably appeared each year, was not high maintenance, and put up a couple of flowers in the summer - nothing special, until this year.

Echinops is derived from the latin word for hedgehog, due to the appearance of the flower. As part of the aster family, the 'globe thistle' is comfortable in coarse poor soil conditions, and tolerates drought and low water environments. All internet sources recommend good drainage. Well, I guess I have those conditions covered with the side yard slope and soils only partially improved.

It is native to Eurasia, but lives on other continents, especially as a weed. It was given an award of merit by the Royal Horticultural Society for outstanding excellence. I wonder if weeds are nominated as a joke.

Everywhere states it is attractive to bees and butterflies. No kidding; I can't keep them off - even for a photo. There are always bumbles on my plant.

This year, my echinops did very well, producing several 2-inch diameter flower balls (50 cm) resembling some alien virus. But, the 4-foot high plant (1.2 m) is now being crowded out by the ever-expanding waistline of a nandina. It may be time to move to the other side of the garden against the house where I am grouping plants that need some winter protection, and plants that are fine with drier and poorer soils (herbs and the like.)

For The Record:   • Clay soil with organic amendments being added   • Full sun   • Small amount of fertilizer in spring   • No serious pests/disease

Garden Calendar:   • Blooming: cosmos, mexican zinnia, zinnia, agastache, echinacea, sunflower, nicotiana, cleome, marigold,      phlox, hosta, buddleia, cardoon, rudbeckia   • Harvested: 2 peppers, 4 tomatoes, 2 cucumbers, 5 onions

Man Over Onion

We all have at least one plant that refuses to like us, no matter what we do for it. Like a spoiled child, the onions got more than their share of attention, and every year gave me back nothing. I wrote about my broken heart in a past post [2011.06.26], with a photo of my thankless children. It seems that root crops do not like me. Radishes, carrots, potatoes (darn potato beetles) and onions. I wasn't going to take it any more.

This year carrots are growing in the back yard vegetable garden. Onions were planted in the front cottage garden, like recent years. Unlike recent years, these are something I can be proud of. And there are more larger ones still growing. So what happened?

First, I went back to onion sets instead of seeds. Not because I wanted to, but because it was too late to plant seed. Second, I purchased both red and yellow onions by weight from a local garden center where one could pick them out of large bins; meanning pick the best ones. Third, I enriched the soil more than usual (the soil is pretty good in that bed already) with manure and humus. I read somewhere (in my quest to find an answer to my none-ions) that rich soil and plenty of water is what they want. That leads me to the last point.

Thank climate change. Our springs over that past five years have all been abnormal in one way or another. This year, cooler temperatures and plenty of rains helped me out. (I think last year was our desert highland spring, while this year was the Pacific northwest spring.) everything is growing like gangbusters -- even the weeds.

But, I like to think I triumphed over the onions. Now on to those carrots.

For The Record:   • Rich, well-drained soil   • Full sun   • Humus and manure fertilizer at planting, slow release fertilizer during growth   • No serious pests/disease Garden Calendar:   • Blooming: nicotiana, cleome, cosmos, lily, daylilies, rose,     astilbe, hosta, rudbeckia, echinacea   • Harvested: 2 onions

June 2013 Flowers In The House

On Saturday, we had dinner on the deck. When guests attend dinner, they most likely prefer to bring along something to add to the dinner. Everyone contributes some tasty dish that when combined with the others, creates a memorable evening meal.

This weekend, one guest brought blue hydrangea. To reflect the dinner modus operandi, contributions from two other gardens were included and combined to make this summer composition. After a brief Sunday morning rain, it was brought indoors today to become the flowers in the house.

Visit more Flowers In The House at Jane's blog Small But Charming.

My Lily Has No Name

Plant swaps are wonderful for picking up fill for the garden and the soul. And, since our neighborhood plant swaps are brunches, they are for filling the belly, too. But at these, I don't expect any latin names, let alone cultivars.

This Asiatic lily (Lilium) was picked up from Mary, who is a regular at our swaps. How does her garden grow? It is very well, although Mary knows none of the names of her plants, nor where she got most of them. For me, her plants are jinxed. I kill every plant I get from her (except the Nandina.) After always getting another victim the following year, her second donations survive. And so it was with the lily.

After the first murder, the next batch of only two plants lived. Mary does not like to give out lots of plants to killers, and I understand. The replacement lilies ended their first year as pathetic specimens. Last year, Mary's lilies were much improved after being moved to a sunny spot with better soil. This year, the now fab five sport more buds on each stem, and I believe I even see some side shoots from new bulbettes forming underground.

After searching through a hundred photos for their name, I have yet to find a match. It resembles 'Brushstroke' in coloring, but a 'Graffiti' series in markings. These have strong stems and require no staking, although growing 3-feet tall (1 m.) They have pale yellow blooms with green streaks in their throats.

They are now part of the side yard melange garden bordering the platform steps down the slope, and liking it. Everyone deserves a second chance. Are you reading this Mary?

I threw in my first wildlife photo; taken in a neighbor's yard. Baby birds are too photogenic, and besides, there is a plant in the shot.

For The Record:   • Well-drained soil, slightly improved clay   • Full sun   • Small amount of slow release fertilizer in autumn   • No serious pests/disease   • No fragrance Garden Calendar:   • Blooming: nicotiana, cleome, cosmos, lily, daylilies, rose,     astilbe, hosta, rudbeckia, echinacea

Almost Lost You

Mr. Astilbe ... we almost lost you. Glad you pulled through.

The Bridal Veil Astilbe (Astilbe x arendsii) was one of the first shady newcomers to the rear yard upgrade four or five years ago. Who doesn't look for a double planted or dividable pot when selecting that something special to take home from the expensive nursery? I found one and planted my twins side by side.

They prospered and grew larger, and then last year there were no flowers. The plants just stopped growing. I came to the rescue with some life-support compost and mulch, but the ground was rock-hard and dry after the exceptionally hot spring. These plants probably like shade for a reason.

Coddling them through the spring, they turned a nice golden crispy brown and finally disappeared around July. They came back this year, but the blossoms look nothing like the fluffy happy photos on web sites.

After blooming, I plan to move them further from the photinia that steal every drop of water from the soil under them. And maybe we give them some additional light. There was a new red astilbe planted in the garden about a year ago that seems more hardy, either because it is further away from the photinia, or it receives a little more sun.

I could not let a few other impressive results of this spring go by without showing them off. Kniphofia uvaria has multiplied more - do they make a good cut flower? And the opuntia shows why I keep it around.

For The Record:   • Clay soil with leaf mulch & organic amendments   • Shade   • Small amount of fertilizer   • No serious pests/disease Garden Calendar:   • Blooming: astilbe, rudbeckia, phlox, coreopsis, opuntia, kniphofia, poppy, daylily, rose campion, lime echinacea   • Harvested: 1 radish

Bombastic Poppies

My poppies are usually not big and loud, except for this year. These particular pink poppies are very unique to almost everyone who sees them, believing they are peonies. They grow and reseed each year at the back of my parent's garage in Johnson City NY (zone 5b). They came with the house, so no one knows anything about them.

Years ago, they were planted in my yard (zone 7a). The seeds are saved annually (although I don't know why since the poppies easily reseed themselves), planted in the fall, and in the spring pop up like poppies do. They have smooth solid leaves of a blue-green color like cabbage, and pink multi-petal blooms resembling shredded coleslaw. They are definitely poppies given the appearance of the seed pods, and given the manner in which they hang their heads until ready to bloom. After the internet came along, voila! - we now know they are: Bombast Rose Poppies (Papaver somniferum var. paeoniflorum).

They are essentially one of the opium poppies. (Fits well into my poison garden theme.) My advice for growing them: don't believe what you read on the internet about their cultivation. First, they should be planted in the fall and seem to prefer cool temperatures in spring - not very promising around here. Most all seeds planted in the spring turn into minuscule plants that get fried in the heat of late spring and summer.

Second, they hate to be transplanted, and never seem to recover from that shock. Third, they are anti-social plants - not liking crowded conditions. I find they seem to compete with each if close together. Fourth, they do not like heat. This last piece of advice relates to this year's crop.

In the past, a handful would grow to 3-feet tall (1 m) while others would remain midgets with almost no blooms. This year, there is the usual crop of midgets, but a few shot up to 4-feet (1.2 m) in height with gigantic blooms. The over-scaled plants began sprouting earlier than the others when weather was cooler. This may have given them a head start. When the weather changes a bit, the heat seems to toast their lower leaves, reducing the amount of food for the plant, my guess. We had a somewhat cool spring this year, so the plants with the head start really took off early while the others were affected by the heat as they began to grow.

For The Record:   • Rich well-drained amended soil   • Full sun   • Small amount of fertilizer   • No serious pests/disease   • No fragrance Garden Calendar:   • Blooming: pink poppies, nicotiana, coreopsis, salvia, california poppies, tradescantia, rose, cactus

The Bedbug Plant

Coreopsis never appealed to me in photos and descriptions that catalogs produced. I saw a bland plant, not stunning or capable of being a signature centerpiece or attractive border or backdrop. That changed a few years ago with the Autumn Blush coreopsis I bought and with one from our neighborhood plant swap.

Coreopsis seemed to be popping up everywhere in the 1990's as the latest fad; one to fulfill the persistent low-maintenance, drought-tolerant quest. I soon saw many new coreopsis on the market, and some appealed to me. I gave Autumn Blush a tryout [posted 2010.06.08]. Although taking its sweet old time to emerge every spring, it is attractive and reliably blooms all season. In that same year, a neighbor gave away this coreopsis at our plant swap. She purchased it (Coreopsis auriculata 'Nana') but found its cultural requirements were not what she expected, and gave it up. Lucky me.

It has spread and bloomed every year, even surviving a major relocation. No pests or diseases bother it. Well, maybe there's a little mildew in late autumn. What seems to set Nana apart is its thick carpet of dense green leaves and the way it holds its blooms. The glowing 1-inch (3 cm) orange blossoms are held above the dark foliage on very thin stems. This makes the blossoms appear to float above the leaf clump hugging the ground.

The orange flowers burst out in spring, tapering off through the summer. Maybe some deadheading would help that.

Coreopsis is also called tickseed. The name coreopsis derives from Greek meaning 'bedbug' - because the seed on spent flowers look like bedbugs? I don't think so on this plant - I am not letting dead blossoms linger this year so there are no photos of them.

For some reason, last year it threw up a healthy litter of leaves, but few flowers. I thought this might be due to overcrowding, and gave it a buzz cut last fall. That did the trick. Even though the 16 inch diameter (40 cm) clump still looks very thick, there are more blooms this year. Sometimes we need a little tough love.

For The Record:   • Clay soil improving with organic amendments   • Full sun   • No fertilizer   • No serious pests/disease   • Easily spreads Garden Calendar:   • Blooming: Bearded iris, coreopsis, salvia, tradescantia,     california poppy, rose

Iris Has Been Around The Block

This bearded iris (Iris germanica) gets around. Not like it's been sleeping with another, but it has had lots of offspring. It was a quick pickup up a few years ago at our neighborhood bar, or maybe it was a spring plant swap. Someone from the adjacent neighborhood brought it and has not attended since. Planted in the spring, it did bloom the following year.

I occasionally drive through that neighborhood and see two houses where this iris is flourishing in the front yard. I would guess one of those owners gave another some divisions in the past.

Being it is a very good hardy grower, I divided this one twice since, and gave away a few pieces to friends that live in that adjacent neighborhood - at another plant swap - so now it's found in three yards there. Last fall after my last division, I gave some to a neighbor on my street and see it blooming there now. Last week on my way to work, I spotted the same iris growing on another street in my neighborhood, along with some yellow iris. This is becoming an invasion.

Last spring, all bearded iris in the yard bloomed sparingly, and by end of spring, were beginning to die out. Iris borers were the culprits - larvae of an egg-laying moth - that tunneled through the root system, leaving them susceptible to rot. A few doses of nasties this spring at the right time kept them safe. One, my favorite, Clarence [2011.05.06], is going to bloom again, but the plants are small and hope is that they will grow back strong for next year.

I have come to love the color combination on this, even though I don't normally care for severely two tone bearded iris. The deep royal purple and light lavender top give me an urge to reach for a grape Nehi every time it blooms. Not knowing its name, it's the Grape Nehi iris to me. Apparently, there IS a Grape Iris out there, but not as grapey as this one.

I will be ready to give some more away next fall. Grape Nehis all around.

A Patriotic Spring

It's been almost a month since the last post - there is little happening in the garden at this time of year. And, Google dumped me into Google Plus requiring information that screwed up my blog, Blogger profile, settings, and name that I cannot correct. (Was that Wordpress option still open?) This mess also prevented me from commenting on other blogs, (unless authored with my 'new' Google Plus account.)

The back yard looks like the 4th of July - red, white and blue. The white 'snow' azaleas were planted under the magnolia and dogwood when both trees and shrubs were small. I tried moving one two years ago and killed it. The azalea roots are too entangled with the trees.

The red (shocking acid pink) azalea is loud and was here when I bought the house over 20 years ago. Although very popular around town, I would never buy a plant of this color. It looks like my yard is on an LSD trip. Keep it from getting too big and put a white azalea next to it to calm your brain down.

The blue ajuga reptans has never looked so good or thick. It really loves its part shade and dry clay home. A few sprigs were picked up at our neighborhood plant swap two years ago and now, wow.

That barren viburnum is another story for later.

Enjoy the cool colors while the season progresses and while I learn how to restore myself on Google.

Pieris Survives The Graveyard

Another plant given, another plant taken. And, this one survived. Last year a friend requested I pick out one pieris for my yard from three that she had purchased to give away. This was my first introduction to the plant. Not knowing anything about it (nor did my gardening friend) I greedily selected a 'Canadian grown cultivar.'

"Clusters of spring blooms resembling lily of the valley cascade near ends of branches. New spring growth is bright red or pink when emerging. Mature foliage is lustrous dark green. Requires rich acidic soil and ample moisture; protect from hot winds and sun."

None of the plants had any blooms - only colorful labels with colorful descriptions. The back yard is shady on the north side of the wood fence. This is my graveyard of plants, and the graveyard had plots available. To date, this area has killed an aralia, an acanthus, two ferns, a hosta, and a ligularia. (Either a zombie ligularia or acanthus is trying to come back from the dead with a few leaves poking up.)

The little pieris that could, survived the winter and thrived. The thing is a mound of blooms, although a small mound. One thing I will note is that stems supporting the blooms are weak, bending downwards.

I have a bad tendency to plant things too close together, so I have given this little one and the nearby hydrangea and buddleia some space. The tag did not have a size listed, so we assume an eventual 4-5 feet (1.2 - 1.5 meter) adult.

The tag was correct so far. The foliage has been dark green and evergreen, needed in this section of the yard for some winter interest. There is no new growth yet, but I expect those red shoots later. The plant seems comfy in its new home mixing it up with our Virginia clay, and the owner is happy it is surviving. Maybe the graveyard of plants has turned the corner.