Fiddling around the edges

Really, I don't mean to whine but - record numbers of 90-degree days? Drought followed by just an inch of two of rain here and there? Asian tiger mosquitoes undeterred by any bug spray you can name?


It's been a miserable month in the garden, I'm afraid. To add to this litany of disasters is the demise of the Sweet 100 cherry tomato. I thought this was an indestructible variety, but somebody came along and ate all of its leaves, so I ripped it out. Could this be the culprit?

 

The eggplants were attacked by flea beetles, and I have only one tiny yellow (huh?) eggplant to show for it. The beans and the zucchini are starting to produce now, but only in the most modest way. Here is today's tiny little harvest. I'm saving the zucchinis in hopes that they will grow more than two inches long.

 

Beyond that, I decided this morning that I could garden for more than thirty minutes if I wore long pants and long sleeves. Feeling a bit like a beekeeper, I succeeded in working for an hour and a half before the heat drove me indoors. Planted the kerria Judy gave me, two pieces in front of the compost trellis and the other next to the yellow kerria along the fence. The compost trellis is a difficult spot - the soil was dry as a bone, plus it's in shade. Will see whether the kerria will survive there or not.

Moved the 'Strawberry Candy' daylilies from the front garden, where they never bloomed, to the walkway bed. Mulched several beds and weeded here and there, which always helps things to look better. Ripped out scads of perilla along the walkway, revealing two almost-hidden day lilies and the nicotiana I started from seed. Perhaps we'll have a bloom or two before summer is over, and with any luck the nicotiana will self-seed there.

Finally, I am starting small with the new shrub and perennial bed in front, beginning by throwing down two bags of mushroom compost. I think I'll start with just a few things and expand the bed over time. I was inspired by Biffy's beautiful raised bed by the terrace to add some grasses.

 

Isn't this beautiful? Her lavender is gorgeous as well, and she attracts all kinds of birds and butterflies. Note to self: add lavender and rosemary to the list...

p.s. On the brighter side, I haven't seen a single Japanese beetle all summer long!

What happened to June?

Well, it turned out to be the hottest June on record. At the very end of the month, a cold front came through, but it was a false and evil front: thunderstorms in Silver Spring, not a drop here. Even the perilla is wilting. Yesterday and today I've been watering, which I hate to do, but I don't want to lose the shrubs - okay, not anything else, either.

What else happened:
Hiking in North Carolina - the last of the rhododendrons in bloom
 

  
 

Lots of white in the garden
  


 

Discovery that the tithonia was not the Mexican sunflower I remembered, tall and branching, but a lovely but short zinnia-like plant. Had I but known, I would have planted them in a group rather than spacing them throughout the garden, where they look silly.

 

Also, that these dark dahlias are perfect with the deep red-orange day lilies - just need to move them so they are amongst said lilies next year.

 

Heeling in

The daylily 'Crescendo' mix from White Flower Farm arrived early, and after letting the box sit for a few days (never do that!), I took them out and heeled them in. I'll plant them for real when the daffodils arrive from Van Bourgondien.

Here's a rather dizzying look at the results.
 

Note that the daylilies have a pale and etiolated look from being boxed up three days longer than necessary.

Incidentally, lots of people have apparently had bad experiences with Van B., if you read the Dave's Garden postings. We (Mom, Judy, Biffy, me) have bought bulbs from them for years with no problems, so let's hope this order comes through as well.

Fall orders

Have just ordered the "Crescendo" collection of daylilies from White Flower Farm for the pathway garden, and ordered a less pricey (and probably less elegant) collection of daffodils from Van Bourgondien to go with them. The plan is to have flowers and foliage from spring through late summer. The collections are about twice what I need, so I have the delicious problem of deciding where to put the extras - in the cutting garden along the side of the house? Or along the back fence?

I also ordered paper whites, Tommy crocuses and more English bluebells and feel very smug that for once I am not, like Henry Mitchell, having to take a drill to the ground in January to plant the bulbs!

"poised between the garden that was and the garden that could be"

This article in the New York Times so perfectly captures the delicious indecision some gardeners face - okay, I face, but so does the author. The Sweet Bay magnolia touted by Carroll Gardens? Or witch hazel instead? A mix of daffodils and day lilies along the pathway, or an elegant mass of cool hostas? A person can dither for months and years...

The hot July garden

Hot, hot, hot and no rain, not a bit. There's not a whole lot happening right now, but here's a look at what's in bloom.

A month on, here's what the pot on the steps looks like: dusty miller has vanished, wave petunia is crowded out by the purple sweet potato vine, which is covered with tiny holes because I did not drench it with Merit (though I'll do that today). Also, the coleus is a coarser variety than I had realized. Nevertheless, I still like this for the color scheme and its lushness.


Here's what it looked like in May, with lots more petunia blossoms in evidence:

The datura self-sows every season. I think my neighbors enjoy it more than I do, since it blooms around the corner in the sad side garden (see below). I think this came originally from Lee, several years ago. Notice the tiny spikes on the bloom, perhaps signalling its poisonous nature. According to Wikipedia,

Common names include jimson weed, Hell's Bells, Devil's weed, Devil's cucumber,
thorn-apple (from the spiny fruit), pricklyburr (similarly), and somewhat
paradoxically, both angel's trumpet and devil's trumpet (from their large trumpet-shaped
flowers), or as Nathaniel Hawthorne
refers to it in the the Scarlet Letter
apple-peru. The word Datura comes from Hindi dhatūrā (thorn apple);
record of this name dates back only to 1662 (OED).

And here's the sad side garden. Sad because it was meant to be a cutting garden, but then I planted the white gooseneck loosestrife (Lysimachia clethroides)and some lemon balm (Melissa officinalis). Anybody want some? They both spread like crazy. I'll get a grip on this garden some day, but not this year.

 
Here is Aunt Betsy's day lily blooming with the Russian sage (unknown Perovskia variety), which I remember falling in love with twenty years ago on a trip to California. I really need to either cut back or move the sage - it's totally crowded out by the daylilies. It does well in this hot, dry location, and I need to give it some room to grow.


The benefits of pruning - although I dissed this book a while ago, I did take her advice and cut back the foxglove just after it finished blooming. And now, six weeks or so later, a new (though small) flower stalk!

The hostas are all in bloom right now - the kind someone somewhere refers to as "the mundanes." But it's fun to watch the bees bumbling in and out of the flowers. Look really closely at the left-hand side of the right-hand flower...

Tropical beauties

I've been away the last few weekends and will be away this weekend, too. But here are a few pix of what's in bloom. First, my experiment with Mandevilla, which everyone in the world already has but I have just added this year.

I chose a white one because that's what Mom had and I had some faint hope that once I found one I could bring it up to Pennsylvania for her, but that's not very likely. Anyway, here it is, and the blossoms are almost as creamy white as Datura.

Aunt Betsy's double day lilies are in bloom in all their wild glory. If the day lilies are in bloom it must be close to the Fourth of July.

I saw Bonnie Trahan at the Giant this afternoon, and she reminded me that the blackberry lilies she gave me last summer should bloom around the Fourth. I'll look for them next week.

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.

Updates

It doesn't take long - I was away from the garden for just three days, and lots happened. The unnamed daylily I bought from that nice man in Charlottesville (he was a hobby breeder with a place on Route 29 that I think has been turned into housing or a shopping center or something) is in bloom:

The Siberian iris are in bloom, a little less abundant after division but that's okay:

The peonies are in full glorious bloom. This is the third or fourth year for Sarah Bernhardt and the first year I have enough to cut flowers for the house (note: wait till they're fully in bloom before cutting):