Notes to self

Wandering around the garden, the following notes:

These allium triquetrum continue to be my favorites, and I love them popping up among the perennials in the front garden. They add a little delicate color that is welcome once the narcissus have gone by. More, more, more!

 

These little alliums (?) are darling but in the wrong place - they will do better transplanted in front of the trellis.

 

These Sungold narcissus bloom with the English bluebells, which was why I got them in the first place, but they are charming all over the garden. Get more next year and scatter them about.

 

The oak tree garden benefits from just a few tulips at this time of year, adding spires to the prevailing mounds. This area in particular could use a few Ivory Floradale.

 

Azalea rants

Adrian Higgins boldly claimed this week that azaleas are overdone, that people plant them regardless of color schemes and prune them into horrible balls. He's right, of course, at least a little. Sure, they're overdone in Washington, and in many gardens they are the only plants you see. But they make beautiful cut flowers, and planted right - in naturalistic settings, in shade - they can be beautiful.

My house came with a few azaleas in front that have grown over the last twenty years into an imposing presence. Okay, I would not have chosen this color (especially since it clashes with the coral bells, also in bloom now), but for two weeks a year I can live with it and even like it.

 

But take it out entirely? Higgins suggests such a thing, but I don't think I'm brave enough - or motivated enough. Even though it would open up another three or four feet at the back of the garden.

Meanwhile, the white azaleas in back are blooming now and looking quite elegant. This is the one I transplanted twice, and it seems happy here against the fence.

 

Yes, to most eyes it would appear etiolated and wee, but I prefer to see it as a Zen azalea. Less is more.

Unfit mother and day two

The little seedlings have been having a hard time of it. You'd think that a big sign by the coffeepot would be enough to remind me when to turn on the grow lights and turn them off again, but no. They endured a few 24-hour days and 24-hour nights. Towards the end, their water dried up. But the will to live is strong, thank goodness.

Here they are awaiting transplanting. This group has cleome, tithonia, nicotiana, cardinal climber and calendula.

 

The cardinal climber and tithonia are obviously strong growers. Nicotiana seed is infinitesimal and it results in tiny little plants all entwined. They're survivors as volunteers, but we'll see how they do with some nurturing. Only three calendulas grew at all. The cleomes, another said to self-sow vigorously, look a little wee.

 

Here is the first set to be transplanted, complete with the cullings. Somehow that never gets easier.

 

Now comes the stage of putting them outside, then taking them in, then putting them out again... considering that I'll be gone the next couple days, they may just need to be strong and live despite the conditions.

A shortened day, but also pruned dead rhododendron stalks and a volunteer shrub by the cedar, and worked on my Colesville list.

Notes to self: get a timer next year, concentrate on the easy ones to grow, and transplant them at least a week earlier.

Tomorrow: the cleomes, which have been transplanted once, get to go outside for a stroll.

Day one

The gardening vacation is inevitably interrupted by the reading vacation, the quilting vacation, the going-away-for-a-few-days vacation, the scrapbooking vacation and the sorting and cleaning vacation. Nevertheless, today saw the lawns mowed and the loosestrife weeded (the intent is to make this bed smaller and make room for other things). Removed two heucheras and a liriope for possible placement along the sidewalk under the maple. Also measured the lawn by the side cutting garden. It looks as though I could have some raised beds three feet wide by 25 feet long. If I were so inclined. Which I might be.

A riot of color and what's in bloom

Note to self: the first flurry of color in the garden is yellow: winter aconite, forsythia, kerria, daffodils, crocus, all blooming from March into April. The next flurry (happening now, the third week in April) edges into pink, red, blue and white: azaleas, tulips, bleeding hearts, bluebells, columbine, tiarella. The baptisia and amsonia are just barely starting to come out.

Another note to self: the front garden is much more successful this year, thanks to the miniature daffodils and species tulips (speaking of yellow).

What's in bloom on April 19:
columbine
bluebells (hyancinthoides non-scripta)
tiarella
sweet woodruff
star of Bethlehem
mertensia (just going by)
azaleas (pink and white)
tulips
Solomon's seal
shasta viburnum
fothergilla (just going by)
ajuga (bugleweed)
lily of the valley
epimedium niveum
hellebore (still)
mazus reptans (thanks, Martha!)

Book report

The American Meadow Garden: Creating a Natural Alternative to the Traditional Lawn by John Greenlee, photos by Saxon Holt.

Less lawn appeals to lots of gardeners, including me, so why not turn your lawn into a meadow?

Positive comments:
Appealing idea and beautiful photos, and I came away with a list of about a dozen grasses that might work in various parts of my garden.

Concerns:
The topic is really grasses, as opposed to a mix of plants you might find in a meadow. There is an alphabetical listing of recommended grasses, but no consistency, except for zone listing, in the information provided. Will this do well in sun or shade? How tall will it get? How much moisture does it need? You'll find most of this information in most of the entries, but for many entries you'll have to look elsewhere for the details. The photos are gorgeous but not every entry merits one, meaning that many of the grasses are not pictured. Also, this has a definite west coast bias, making it less helpful for easterners. More of a coffee-table book than a reference book.

Tulip frenzy

After almost a week of hot wind, we had a delicious rain and cooler, sunny weather. Just about as perfect as it can be.

Though some of the daffodils and tulips got cooked, the later ones and the ones in shade are still doing well. Alison was telling us last night that she thinks tulips are too regimented. I protested, but actually, I think she's right, and there are just a few ways to use them effectively:

*to draw attention from a distance
*in drifts of color
*as cut flowers

Up close they are somewhat overdone.

On the other hand, I am falling in love with the species tulips, which are a delight close up. Here is 'Lady Jane' in front of the akebia trellis.

 

And here, by the way, are the muscari meant to provide some socks for this garden. More socks needed desperately!

 

I love these pink fringed tulips ('Davenport'??) from the cutting garden, just in time for Weezer's birthday.

 

The front garden is much more successful this spring, with the mixed miniature narcisssus from WFF and this beautiful species tulip 'Batalini.'