Lifting and separating

This always sounds vaguely like an ad for Wonderbras, but in fact it is a highly recommended practice for renewing perennials that I usually forego. Today I lifted and separated the coral bells that edge the front garden, enriching their soil with leaf mold and compost, re-planting them, and watering it all in.

This was long overdue, as I realized particularly when I came to the edge by the steps. This part of the border was way overgrown with myrtle and garlic chives, and I grubbed them all out. The garlic chives I'll offer to the CRRL, the rest pitched into the compost.

Alison was horrified to discover that you might have to re-plant something you had already planted once, but as I told her, if you only do it every twenty years as I'm doing, it's really not so bad...

As I planted, I had happy memories of Mom giving me these plants, the pass-alongs from Betsy Hale's grandmother. I have some left over which I will also give to the CRRL or use to edge the shrub border in the back.

 

 

Here are two shots of the newly tidy edge.

Pass-alongs

Like most gardeners, I have quite a few plants that were passed on to me. I just recently learned from Mom that the old-fashioned coral bells that edge the front garden came from Betsy Hale's grandmother in Connecticut, who passed them on to Mrs. Hale, who passed them on to Mom, who passed them on to me.

Martha just gave me some tradescantia, which came from a friend whose grandmother had it in her garden in Stafford. For the longest time I had some white iris from Bob Taylor, but no more... plus the double orange daylily from Aunt Betsy, which I've now passed back to cousin Beth. I think it's 'Kwanzo fulva' described by Horsford Nursery (whose picture this is) as "An old cultivar that's been growing here for years. Large, double flowers are orange with a burnt orange eye and yellow throat."
After Aunt Betsy gave it to me, I had it in a pot waiting to be planted for quite some time (I can't admit how long) but it truly does bloom where it's planted and spreads slowly but surely.






And then, of course, there's perilla. I'm always amazed when I find it for sale somewhere. It self-sows like mad, and Dad always claimed its Latin name was "Gottverdammte perilla." But as Mom so truly points out, it's easy to pull up, and it looks so nice in arrangements. Here it is consorting with that garden thug, Virginia creeper, in the compost/brush/messy part of the garden.