Hello Hellebore

When I was growing up, the earliest blooms in the garden were always bulbs. First crocus, then daffodils, and then tulips. Sometime around late March, color would return to the garden. 

And as much as I'm amazed by the bulbs that emerge in the spring, I'm in awe of plants that come up even earlier. The hellebore in our garden have been blooming since February. 

Helleborus "Winter Jewels Painted"

Helleborus "Winter Jewels Black Diamond"

Content in this post was previously published in In the Garden, Spring 2016.

Magnet Monday: Michigan (the other mitten state)

Cheesy Refrigerator Magnet for Monday, May 23, 2016
"Michigan", painted laser-cut wood, circa early 2010's

We spent an extraordinary amount of time outside in the garden this past weekend (outside in general, between gardening and yard work, plant sales, and a round of golf). Oddly enough, despite how much I love to play in the dirt and watch things grow, I have few magnets with any plants on them. 

Huh. 

We picked this one up in Detroit airport on a layover to somewhere. We could have picked up a Detroit magnet, which maybe is a more accurate picture of our visit, but 1) there were no magnets of the Detroit airport, per se, and 2) I'm working on getting one from all 50 states first. Detroit the city will just have to wait. 


Magnet Monday features a selection from our semi-vast and ever growing collection of cheesy refrigerator magnets. Without doubt the perfect souvenir. Only slightly less cheesy than collecting snow globes but a whole lot easier to smuggle in your bra. If need be. Which I hope it never is. Unless it's really worth it.

Magnet Monday: DC in Bloom

Cheesy Refrigerator Magnet for Monday, May 18, 2015
"Washington DC", 3-D cast resin, circa 2010

The National Cherry Blossom Festival in Washington DC is over now, but our cherry tree is just getting started. 

Family on a high school trip to DC picked this up for us. We have them well trained. 


Magnet Monday features a selection from our semi-vast and ever growing collection of cheesy refrigerator magnets. Without doubt the perfect souvenir. Only slightly less cheesy than collecting snow globes but maybe a lot easier to smuggle in your bra. If need be. Which I hope it never is. Unless it's really worth it.

Weekly Randomness for Friday, April 24, 2015

News that made me stop what I was doing to look it up.

• As if cephalopods weren't cool enough. 
• Diversity is a major reason I choose to work in academia. It's about more than being able to wear masculine shoes though: let's try for equal pay and opportunity as well. 
• We are so not ready for this technology. Not practically. Not ethically. Not any way. Not any how. Maybe someday, but it ain't today. 

Weekly Shits n' Giggles

• How many of you looked for Nessie? How many of you will admit it...?  
• Creepy.  And yet... I honestly could see myself doing this when Miss Pooh-Butt leaves us... (Also, not anywhere near as creepy as the freeze-dried stuffed version)
• I think we've all been there. 
• My Pinteresting Randomness

Weekend Aims

• More Earth Day activities: showing of Our Water about the Great Lakes, another clean-up. 
• Phase 1 of rehabbing the Garden of Shame on the east side of our house (if it's not raining): an early start on ripping out the heinous and all-devouring groundcover*. 
• Trying to fix the "NET::ERR_CERT_AUTHORITY_INVALID" issue on my computers. WTF Chrome?!

*A pox upon you Bishop's Weed - stay away from my peonies! Not to be confused with the squill - they can spread as much as they want...

Cinnamon Flakes Birch

Cinnamon Flakes Birch

(Betula chinensis)

WINTER UPDATE
The little birch has been a trooper through this winter. If you look closely, the branches are drawn in closer together, as if it's huddling together. Protection against wind? Reduce water loss??? Compare to the photo of the leafless tree last fall and tell me what you think. 

Look!! It's a Brrrrrrrrrr-ch!!  

I hope the branches spread out again once it warms up...

___________________________________________________

Our little birch has really grown this season! Here's what it looked like when we brought it home in May: 

And now here in the fall, with just a few leaves left: 

Admittedly, the second photo is from a slightly different angle, but comparing the height of the tree against the window in October vs. May, and keeping in mind that the tree in May gets some height from still being in the nursery pot, I think it's doubled in size. To me that says we picked the right spot for it. 

It's growing so sturdy we were able to take away the bamboo support stake. The bark is living up to its name as well. Love it love it!

You are not imagining it if you think you've seen some of this before...  Part of this post was originally featured on my "In the Garden" page.

BBB Success

We've been building a garden aimed at attracting butterflies, birds, and bees (although I'm happy to welcome all pollinators). We noticed an increase in bees the first year, and more hummers. Finally the butterflies are showing up. 

Love love love to watch the Monarch Butterflies float in to eat! 

Must. Plant. MORE!!

Pretty Porch Plantings Provide Pleasing Picture

Perfect!!

(ahem...)

We dress up our part-shade front porch with several container gardens each year. I spend weeks thinking about the right color combinations. And then... we go to the candy store (a.k.a. nursery)... and my plans get abandoned like last week's weeds. So many plants and colors and possibilities and too many ideas, it overwhelms my senses and we come home with something completely different. 

Which isn't necessarily a bad thing.

The goods. Small but beautiful and so, so healthy. 

We've used the matched pair of blue ceramic pots for a few years and recently inherited the three others from downsizing family. The colors coordinate well, and being glazed ceramic, they don't dry out too quickly. 

Just planted. And apparently just watered. 

Two months later, and all growed' up. Couldn't be happier! 

What luck with your container gardens?

Really tiny feet

When my parents moved from their country home into a condo, the one garden plant my mom insisted on taking was her orchid. Mom is an epically avid gardener, and after 30-some years of these particular gardens, the orchids were her prize. I recall scrambling for time in the last days of moving, grabbing a shovel and a cardboard box, and digging where she said "Dig". The orchid-containing dirt clump made it to my garden where I unceremoniously shoved it into some likely ground and hoped the roots would make it.

Fast forward through a particularly harsh Wisconsin winter, I frankly forgot where I had stuffed the clump. I spotted "something I shoved in the ground" coming up, ID-ed them as the orchids, was pleased (and relieved) they survived. Now that they are in full bloom, I totally get my mom's dedication to them. I'm shocked at how much I want to just stare at these; they look too exotic to be growing in this crazy scragly wooded plot we call a garden. I wander into the backyard as often as sanely possible to just ogle them. I would be charged with harassment if they had anything to say about it. In my defense, how can you not be totally awed by this?!

Yellow Lady-Slipper Orchid (Cyprimedium parviflorum)

(Beautiful photo credit to my husband and his mighty camera - he's my macro mac-daddy)

At the right angle, it really does look like a tiny shoe. Maybe it's the size of orchid blooms that makes us think of tiny fairy-folk. On that thought, we also have orchid hats to offer. The yellow ones go nicely with the slippers, although these purpley-pink ones would work in a cheerful jelly-bean theme kind of way.

Lilac Fairy Bishop's Hat orchid (Epimedium grandiflorum 'Lilafee')

The hat size seems out of proportion to the shoes though (we could think of this for the dainty fairy with honkin' big feet - maybe she'll be a tall fairy and grow into them). Yesterday when we went to the candy store for pot goodies (we live in Wisconsin people, so think plants for the front porch containers), we found yet another orchid (I know, right?!). A Bishop's Hat in white. Three or more is a collection, so with five types in the yard, we are officially orchid collectors now. Cool.

Rose-Breasted Grosbeak

Yesterday, the SouthEast Wisconsin Master Gardeners held their annual plant sale. I did my homework ahead of time, poring over the 12 pages of plants offered. We managed to get at least one of almost everything on our short list, including another Woodland Poppy! Even the Cinnamon Flakes Birch tree that I knew I wanted but wasn't sure (i.e. had no idea) where it would go. It doesn't get very big and has really cool-looking bark, so I want it close to the house where we can see it. We're testing locations; this looks likely:

Cinnamon Flakes Birch possible backyard location 

We placed the other newbies out and about in the gardens where they will go. Noted with irritation that the deer are hungry - time to spray anti-deer stink. It/they ate most of the astilbes, chomped some hostas, Tiarella and even some Bloodroot. The bites that really chapped my arse are those on the Bishop's Hat and Lady's-Slipper orchids - WTF!! It only takes a couple bites to figure out they aren't tasty, but it only takes one or two bites to ruin the plant. I'm particularly miffed about the Lady's-Slippers; the plants came from my parents home and I'm keen for them to survive.

Anyhoo, we spotted a Rose-Breasted Grosbeak in our ravine. We saw him, had no idea what it was, and dashed into the house for binocs & a bird book. I've heard both the chirp and the song without realizing it; the song is likened to a robin with opera training, or one that's just really happy. That's what I've heard - a robin singing its heart out. I don't know how we ever missed spotting a bird as big and distinctive as this before.

Rose-Breasted Grosbeak from the Cornell Lab of Ornithology
http://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/rose-breasted_grosbeak/id

The Orchid of Perseverance

It's a good thing, I think, to be reminded where perseverance will get you. If you are a plant in my garden, it's a requirement for survival. I generally fail when it comes to planting bare-root plants that come in the mail. The people selling plants assume I know what I'm doing and mean well. I mean well when I order them. The plants sure mean well. I like to believe they want to live.

A couple Winters ago, I had some pots stored in the garage. One such frigid pot contained the scraggly bare-root of a small, fragile-looking native orchid called an Epimedium. It was in a pot with some dirt as part of the "meaning well" journey of coaxing it to sprout, the idea being then I would plant it. It did actually sprout, and I set the pot in the garden. That's my trick for figuring out where a plant wants to live, but you could also call in procrastination. I never did actually get it into the ground. I stuck the pot in the garage with the rest of them, and pretty much forgot about it.

In the Spring when I started inspecting pots to move them outdoors, something looked weedy; it had all this unkempt leggy growth from being in the dark, and I actually thought it was remnants from the previous summer. Imagine my surprise to find it was that little orchid, persistent as all hell, not only alive, but blooming in the dark of my garage. I planted it as soon as the ground was workably warm, close to the edge of the garden. The flowers are small and deserve to be seen close up. After a season of growing, and another Winter, it is blooming again. What a treat!

Epimedium rubrum

The plant is also called a Bishop's Hat Orchid because of the shape of the flower, not owing to any divine intervention in its survival success. The persistence of this little plant turned a lot of our gardening towards native woodland species. Living in zone 5, we have a fair number of options for climate. Living in solid urban deer country limits that severely. Last year they ate hostas, lupines, tulips, columbines, geraniums, and I don't remember what else. They don't generally eat woodland regulars. Epimediums are considered ground covers (less invasive and far more interesting than Lily of the Valley). I was thrilled with the idea of masses of them in the gardens.

So... we added more. About 7 more. Three different varieties total.

Here's another now blooming, yellow flowers: 

Epimedium x versicolor 'Sulphureum'

One more variety yet to bloom, a lavender-pink color bloom I think. If I find any more colors, I'm sure I can find room for them too.

Tree + Wind = A Big Mess

Mother Nature did some serious pruning in our yard yesterday. One of the very large trees in our front yard lost most of its crown yesterday in 50mph gusts. Of the three there, it is the American Linden (or Basswood) in the middle between a Northern Red Oak and a Norway Maple. They provide a lot of wonderful shade for the front of the house (well, they did...).

Tree crown in the yard.

We're really lucky that the tree didn't come down on the house. Or anything in the road for that matter.

Tree across the road.

The trunk looks pretty rotted through, poor thing. It was probably only a matter of time before it came down. There was another branch high in the tree I had expected to go, but it is still attached. According to the neighbors, the tree was fine until about 4pm.

What's left of the trunk. You can see the long gouge up into the branch I thought would be the one to go.

By the time I got home from work the tree was down.  I made a mad dash out to purchase a chain saw; it was so overcast, the light was fading and we had to get it out of the road. There's a streetlight immediately across the street that proved very useful. I don't recommend using chain saws at night, however. As a rule.

The front yard this morning. We managed to get it cut back and removed from the street and sidewalk last night.

We're going to see if we can find someone to use the wood. geekMan found some info online that said basswood is good for carving and making instruments, but not so much for burning in wood stoves. And of course, the rest of the tree will probably have to come out. It's like a bad tooth. It makes me sad  to lose such a mature and graceful tree. The two remaining trees will still provide a fair amount of shade for the house. The space will seem so empty though, I'm hoping we'll plant another tree. A birch would be nice...

Also, if anyone in the Milwaukee area is interested in the wood, give me a holler in the comments :-)

Dirt Is Brain Food

Playing in the dirt is good for your brain, both for the psychological benefits (gardening as therapy) and,  it turns out now, cognitively as well. Researchers have determined that exposure to common soil bacteria improves memory - read more at New Scientist.

Now go outside and get dirty.

The Burden of Plenty

I have complained of the neglect our poor gardens have experienced over the last few years. Nearly all the rose bushes have died since no one cared to cover them for the cold Wisconsin winter. The peony bushes are slow to fill out due to several years accumulation of leaf cover. But all is not in despair.

Some plants seem to thrive on neglect though. Take the day lilies that are filling every available garden space (no - seriously - take some please). You can't tell from the picture here, but they are moving into the lawn. It's the only available remaining space. We will have to rip out quite a few, but for now I have to admit they are at least green. And they will bloom, probably all summer once they get started. I'm not 100% certain, but I'm guessing they will be the wild-type orange variety. Not exciting, but colorful anyway.

Our front garden is still suffering from what I call "chair-rail syndrome" (we've ripped out the old vine but have nothing yet to replace it).

You can see the dirt in the grass beyond the brick border - that vine had eaten almost a foot of grass already (and from the roots we pulled out, it was ready to take more). This portion of the yard gets deep shade most of the day, but there's a sliver of late afternoon sun that cuts in underneath the trees from the west. I think that's the only reason the cherry tree and the juniper here have survived. I still think a shade ground cover would be best. Right now our vote is for European Wild Ginger (Asarum europaeum). Hopefully it will fill the space well, not be too tall for the spring bulbs or the summer perennials. And hopefully it will be polite and not eat the lawn.

Unplanting: Too Much of a Good Thing

Sometimes you just have to rip things out. We've been trying to preserve as much as possible of the existing plantings, but the gardens haven't had a good pruning and clean out in a few years and there was this vine eating the front garden...
The offending maurader:


I'm not exactly sure what it is, but I suspect it to be a vinca vine. Ground covers are useful alternatives to mulch or mixed plantings or grass (which come to think of it is more or less a ground cover...). They spread and don't require much care. Beware what's implied by "spread" as that can mean aggressive and destructive invasiveness. Several years of neglect allowed this vine to take over the garden, engulfing neighboring plants, even beginning to choke itself. We uncovered lily groupings, an astilbe, and two sedums, one of which is in pretty poor shape.


Poor thing. Pretty bedraggled. I'll keep you posted on how it does. In total, we ripped out about a couple cubic meters of vine. The garden looks a little bare, but I think it's taken a good deep breath of fresh air. Maybe even a sigh of relief. Next to tackle are the dozens of tree seedlings, and no doubt the weeds that will try to fill the vine void. We will have to beat them to the punch. Or, rather, dirt.

The Koreanspice Viburnum is planted in the backyard where I can smell it here in the office this evening. In the chocolate box of unknown garden goodies, that for me is like a dark chocolate praline. Bliss.

The Chocolate Garden

This is the first year of garden time in our new house. New to us, and about 60 years old. We are not the first to appreciate green things around the house, a fact that is obvious based on the gardens already in place. What isn't completely obvious is what's going to grow.

Being the latecomer to an established garden is like that famous box of chocolates: you never know what's going to come up.

We're in the process of cataloging what we can recognize and trying to figure out what we don't. We can label about 90% of what's here, although we don't know all the cultivars, hybrids etc. We may never know for some, but it's not that important.

Exciting today: the viburnum is blooming. This morning it was covered in buds, and in the space of one warm day, it has come into bloom. We guessed a viburnum, and now have proudly ID'ed it as Koreanspice Viburnum (V. carlessi if you like). Charming and headily fragrant. It's my new favorite.