A Good Start

Despite trouble posting pictures, which as extinguished my interest in blogging temporarily, I've gotten a lot done in the garden.

Finally took out the Japanese honeysuckle, ready for a rose and a clematis
Refreshed the front of the side front garden, pulling out lots of day lilies and Goldsturm rudbeckia, adding soil conditioner and transplanting the Tomato Soup echinacea
Finally rooted out the last of the barberry
Moved the trellis from the side of the house to the mailbox, and planted morning glories and scarlet runner beans along one side; waiting to see if the cardinal climber vine from last summer starts to pop up in its former location
Best of all, and hardest of all, laid out the new sunny garden in front down from where the dogwood used to be and the butterfly bush is now

Here's a look before the plants went in:


It was incredibly hard to do this the hard way, which is what I chose. I edged the whole thing (8' x 8' plus the existing bed for the butterfly bush), then sliced it into sections and lifted up the sod with a straight-edged spade. When Adrian Higgins refers to "skimming off the sod," he is deluding you. It was backbreaking. Nevertheless...

This new bed is meant to be sunny, high, and wild, attracting butterflies and hummingbirds, and mostly made up of native plants. The color scheme is blue, pink and yellow with just a touch of white. Planted to date are:
Boltonia asteroides 'Snowbank'
Salvia gregii 'ultra violet'
Lavandula media 'grosso'
Helianthis 'Lemon Queen'
Aster laevis 'Blue Bird'
Agastache 'Blue Fortune'
Schizachyrium scoparium 'The blues'
Pennisetum alopecuroides (fountain grass)
Eupatorium purpureum subsp. Maculatum 'Gateway'
tulipa 'General de Wet'
Muscari

(The latter two, by the way, did indeed make a pretty pair, the orange softened by the blue and they bloomed at the same time by some miracle.)

Becky kindly picked up a lot of these at Colesville for me. I was worried about the Joe Pye weed, which was nothing but a dead stick, so I sank the pot into the ground in case I had to return it. But patience is rewarded - it's now got about an inch of new growth. Hard to believe it will grow to six feet, but stranger things have happened.

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.

 

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.'

 

The Wild Hunt

For years and years, a visit to Ladew Topiary Gardens north of Baltimore had been on my someday list, and I finally got there last month when Alison and I took our annual Garden Week trip. The tour of the historic house included a lovely oval library, named one of the 100 most beautiful rooms in America, and displayed the belongings of a wealthy man who loved foxhunting, traveling (he consulted T.E. Lawrence before a jaunt to the Middle East) and, of course, gardening.
 

Topiary is not my favorite art form, but in this setting - the soft, rolling hills of the Maryland hunt country - and on this scale, it's charming. Most famous is the portrayal of the fox hunt, complete with two portly hunters.
 

Among the many gardens are the sculpture garden
 

and the topiary gardens by the house. Here's a view looking back across the "Bowl," where they hold outdoor concerts on summer Sundays.
 

Equally famous are the garden windows - this one looking out onto the misty colors of flowering trees in the distance - and the swans swimming along the border of the Bowl.

 
 
 

Pretty tulip beds - the white ones must be species, but which ones?
  

The yellow, orange and apricot tulips in the yellow garden framed by golden evergreens were very effective.
 

And the Adam and Eve statues are famously seen looking back from the keyhole garden. In a week or two the azaleas surrounding the statues would be in bloom.
  

Now that I've finally been there, I don't need to return, but I would recommend a visit if you're in the neighborhood.

April into May

We've had the most glorious spring - clear and cool, with almost enough rain. The tulips have lasted and lasted. I always think of Henry Mitchell when it comes to tulips - he who was known to take a drill to the frozen ground in January to plant them, and who railed against the string of 80-degree days we often get in April that cook them instantly. He would have loved this spring.

My favorite garden

Apart from the famous ones, I mean... My favorite garden is under the oak tree in the back yard. It's very simple: lots of bulbs and shade-loving perennials appear and bloom in spring, then subside into a wave of green leaves in early summer. Not a very original formula, but very satisfying.

It's my only garden without holes (at least, not obvious ones, though I have plans to add plants along one side). It has lots of soft colors, primarily blue, white, yellow and a touch of red. The foliage of the epimedium, Japanese roof iris and hellebore works well with the hostas that take over once the bulbs subside (though I have my eye on some chartreuse hostas to spark up the color a bit). The tulips, in bloom now, add some height (or, as designers would say, spires to complement the mounds).

In fact, I love it so much that I now have my eye on doing something similar under the maple tree in front. Maples have more shallow roots, I think, which should make it a bit more challenging to plant, but I'm sure it can be managed. I'll need to cut back the ivy a bit, too, which is a good thing anyway.

Here's a look at the oak tree garden:


In bloom now: pulmonaria "Spilt Milk," mertensia (white and blue, thanks, Mom), narcissus 'Sun Disc,' English bluebells, bleeding heart, tiarella, sweet woodruff (just coming into bloom), hellebore, and tulips (white Maureen).

The dandelions are just an added bonus, of course.


The English bluebells were inspired by a stunning, unexpected hillside in the Lake District - I came around a curve in the path, and there they were. These are not quite so magnificent, perhaps, but still beautiful.

Bleeding hearts and star of Bethlehem, which self-seeds around the garden


Clearly, this sad little patch - right by the front door, of course! - is in need of a major makeover (apart from the cat, which wanders over from next door and adds a decorative touch). One of the problems is that voles seem to have invaded this space, leaving mounds of earth around the tree. I suspect them of devouring the hostas 'August Moon' that I planted in the front garden last spring.

I've been struggling with how to define the area to turn into a garden, since it's bordered by the sidewalk and driveway, plus a clump of myrtle around the lamppost. As Dad always said, edging a garden makes it look "meant." But I could start small with some bulbs and see what develops.

Tulipmania

I love and adore tulips, especially, given my low taste, the ones that are gorgeously over the top.
I love the Rembrandts...


and the fringed tulips...



and the lily-flowered tulips - why were these sold as a collection, when the pink against the orange makes my teeth hurt?





and the purply blacks - this one allegedly a parrot, but I doubt it (would McClure & Zimmerman steer me wrong??)



...and the plain old yellow ones from the cutting garden that swoon and swell in the vase.

But then there are the chaste joys of single tulips of a single color,

red


 

and white.



I love to put a few in a glass vase in front of the bathroom mirror, where they quietly multiply.

What's blooming on Easter Sunday

 
Yesterday we had an onion snow*, so-called, Mom says, because it arrives when the onions are starting to grow - usually just a dusting, but we had about half an inch of wet white stuff.

Walked around today in brisk winter weather, sun and shadow, highs in the 40s. Solomon seal is finally emerging. Picked red tulips for the house (must be the Darwin Hyprid Impression mix, but they all came up red). More red tulips around the lamppost are very satisfactory. Japanese painted fern emerging, hosta in container showing signs of life. Astilbe in front showing ferny fronds. Anemone under hydrangea never grew, probably planted too shallowly. Dog-tooth violets starting to fade, English bluebells starting to show.

* According to Bartleby's: NOUN: Chiefly Pennsylvania A light snow in late spring, after onions have been planted.