Summer lessons learned: It's A Mystery To Me

I love a good mystery.  Give me a book by Martha Grimes or Sara Paretsky or Debra Crombie, and you won't hear a peep out of me all evening.  In fact, you probably won't see me very early in the morning either, because I invariably stay up way too late as I turn page after page, caught up in what is going to happen next.  But novels aren't the only forms of mystery; there are mysteries in the garden as well.  This summer I often was bewildered about what was happening in my garden.  Some of those mysteries were eventually solved, like the tidy conclusions with no loose ends I prefer in novels, but other situations still have me puzzled.

Salvia Azurea, also known as Pitcher Sage

Every year I have some mystery plants, plants that I can't identify and wonder if they're a weed or something I will welcome in my garden .This year was no exception.  I've already mentioned the sneezeweed that I initially had no memory of planting and the Salvia azurea that I almost pulled, thinking it was a weed.

One mystery daylily identified as a passalong

Then there were the daylily mysteries.  I always try to record any new daylily purchases I make and  place a marker next to each one when I plant them.  But two of my tags disappeared over the winter or were buried deeply under the compost, and when lily season began, I found I had not the five new daylilies I remembered buying, but six!  And then, to make me feel even more like I'd lost my mind, there was another new daylily that appeared in the butterfly garden!  The latter was solved when a fellow gardening volunteer reminded me that she had given me a division of one of her daylilies last year.  I probably planted it in the butterfly garden because I had simply run out of room everywhere else.

The six-not-five new hybrids were still a mystery until a week ago when I discovered my receipt from last summer while doing some cleaning.  (Amazing what things you can find when you do a little cleaning.)  It turns out I did buy six lilies--besides the five names I remembered, I also bought an unnamed hybrid--an experimental plant that the growers have decided not to continue growing.  But there is still a little mystery--is the daylily above 'Susan Weber' or L09-021?

Or is this one L09-021 or 'Susan Weber'??

Another thing that has had me scratching my head this year is what happened to my clematis?  I had only one clematis until last year, 'Nelly Moser,' which bloomed faithfully and profusely every May/June.  But this year not a single bloom!  Last year I planted a new clematis, 'Roguchi,' which I was very excited about because I love these bell-shaped purple blooms and it did very well in its first year.  But again, not a sign of it this year!

Clematis 'Roguchi' growing in the nursing home garden

I haven't quite come up with a satisfactory resolution to either of these mysteries, but my hunch is that my poor little 'Roguchi' may have fallen victim to some over-zealous weeding on my part this spring. Or perhaps it was strangled by the Cardinal vine that grew up the same side of the trellis and into the coneflowers and the lilies and just about any place it could sneak in.  And my 'Nelly Moser'--well, I'm not sure, but I may have pruned it too early and too vigorously in the spring.  It's growing up its trellis (minus blooms), so I'm hoping it will recover and bloom again next year.  As for poor 'Roguchi,' I'll be on the lookout for a replacement next spring.

A few blooms earlier on the yellow Knockouts; the red ones are too puny to even photograph.

I'm not taking any blame for two other puzzles, though.  My 'Knockout' roses were an absolute failure this year, producing only a few measly blooms.  I gave them a moderate pruning in the spring, but nothing different from previous years.  Last year everyone's 'Knockouts' in the area looked terrible, which everyone attributed to the bad winter.  But this past winter wasn't quite so bad--although we didn't have much snow cover--so I don't know why mine especially look so awful this year.  I didn't think you could kill 'Knockouts,' but I'm beginning to think I'm a homicidal rose killer.

Another no-show this year were the Macrophylla Hydrangeas.  Oh, they grew and grew with very healthy green foliage, but only one blossom appeared on three plants--only one all summer!  After a couple of people told me their Macrophyllas were doing the same thing and asked for my advice, I did a little sleuthing.  Improper pruning or lack of water or fertilizer could cause problems with blooming, but none of those were the problems here.  A late winter cold snap that occurred just as the hydrangeas were setting blooms seems the most likely cause.  If that is the case, then I don't have to feel guilty about doing something wrong, and I can only hope that blooms will return again next year.

If the weather was the culprit in my flower-less Macrophyllas, it had no effect on the Hydrangea Paniculatas, fortunately.  'Vanilla Strawberry' bloomed up a storm, and the 'Limelight' is becoming a flowering autumn tree.

Ascelpias curassavica, Tropical milkweed, is still blooming in the garden.  But it's not the best choice of milkweeds for Monarchs.

One of just a small patch of zinnias that grew this year.

Do you remember the old folk song "Where Have All the Flowers Gone?"  My last mystery concerns all the plants that never appeared this year.  From the Turkish lilies to all the milkweed seed I planted last fall or late winter, I am confused and disappointed at many no-shows. Besides the milkweed seeds, which really disappointed me because I was hoping to attract more Monarchs to my garden, there were other seeds that didn't germinate.  I always have good luck with zinnia and cosmos seeds, which are so easy to grow.  But very few of them appeared this year.  I suspect some of the seeds in my arbor bed were covered up with too much mulch when I had some helpers early in the season and forgot to mention where the seeds were planted.

But that doesn't explain the lack of flowers in my roadside garden, where I also planted some zinnias and cosmos.  Only one little cosmos plant survived to bloom. Correct that--I notice yesterday I have a second plant blooming!  I could blame Mr. P and his lawnmower, but I don't think he's a suspect.  In fact, there were several mysterious goings-on in this roadside garden all season, starting with some of the new tulips that never appeared.

Pot with hot pink annuals peeking out to the left of photo.

 Probably the most puzzling incident was the case of the empty pot.  In May I planted some petunias and 'Diamond Frost' euphorbia in a pot lying on its side at the front of the garden.  A few weeks later, the pot was empty!  Not a dried-up stem was in sight--everything had disappeared.  When summer annuals went on clearance in mid-June, I tried again and filled the pot with other petunias and bright annuals.  A week or two later, when I went to water the pot again, the same thing--not a plant in sight!

A fall mum now planted in the pot next to the sedum--I dare a thief to make off with this one!

Could it be fairies who stole my plants to decorate their fairy homes?  Or is there some marauding varmint that likes tasty annuals and is digging them out for dinner?  There are no clues and thus no suspects, so the mystery of the disappearing roadside plants will remain unsolved for now.  I could assign the investigation to Capt. Sophie, but with this garden's proximity to the busy road, it's out of her jurisdiction.


From both the mysteries that were solved and from the ones that remain open investigations, I have learned a few lessons this summer:

• I need to be more diligent about recording all new plantings in my garden journal.
• I need to find a better, more permanent type of plant label, one whose printing won't disappear over the winter and one that can't be pulled out by dogs looking for toys.
• I need to follow proper pruning instructions--when in doubt, do some research first!

But most of all, I've learned once again that gardening can be unpredictable, and that a little mystery just adds some spice to it--gardening is never boring!

I am very late, but I'm joining in with Beth's quarterly Lessons Learned in the Garden posted at the end of each season.

Spring Lessons and Celebrating Summer

Tuesday evening I attended our local Master Gardeners' meeting and invited my good friend to join me.  I don't always go to the meetings, but the speaker this time was a well-known member of our local group talking about shade plants other than hostas, and her talks are always informative and interesting.   She's been in the horticulture industry for over 30, maybe 40 years--I'm too polite to ask her age:)  She's a member of the American Hosta Society, the Daylily Society, the Peony Society, and probably several others that I didn't catch.  Suffice it to say, she's an expert on so many gardening topics, and her own garden is magnificent.  During her introduction, she said that despite her experience, she learns something new every day about gardening.  Wow, I thought, if she's still learning new gardening tips, how much more must there be that I haven't learned!

Certainly, every season I learn something new from experiences in my own garden, and as part of Beth at Plant Postings' season meme "Lessons Learned,"  I'd like to share a few things I have learned this last spring.

"Tulip Hill" wasn't much of a hill this year--note the chewed off tulips in the center and to the far right.

1.  Rabbits and deer really are pests.  For years, I've been bragging how these two critters leave my garden alone.  I've empathized with fellow bloggers who have had to resort to all kinds of devices and techniques to keep them out of their gardens, often to no avail.  But I sat smugly at my computer and commented that the dogs and maybe the cats kept the deer and rabbits from sticking around long enough to munch on my plants. Obviously, it doesn't pay to be too smug, because this spring they found my garden, too, and I was not a happy gardener! 

A gorgeous double tulip--'Sunlover.'  You can see there should have been two blooms here, not one.

If I were a rabbit or deer, I'd go for something tasty-sounding, like this 'Sorbet.'  But they're not choosy diners.

I learned very quickly this spring that my garden isn't immune to these cute but destructive pests.  It's not going to stop me from planting more tulips this fall, but I've decided to plant only daffodils in the new shade garden addition, which is right along the deer's grazing path.  Why tempt them any more?

2. Winter questions have been answered. In my spring post on "Lessons Learned,"  I was still wondering about a few experiments I had tried and whether they would be successful.  I had babied two 'Encore' azaleas over the winter, encasing them in burlap cages in hopes they would survive what turned out to be one of the worst winters in twenty years.  As of a couple of weeks ago, I would have sadly reported that they didn't make it.  I was in a state of denial and refused to pull them out for a long time, despite their very corpse-like appearance.  But so many plants were slow to emerge this spring, and one morning I looked out at the sidewalk garden, and my hopes began to rise.  Could it be?  No, those weren't little weeds popping up--there were leaves growing at the bottom of each azalea!  I was so excited, I promptly took a photo with my phone and texted my best friend.  Call it what you will, sometimes it pays to be a procrastinator or an idealist who refuses to see reality.

A few small azalea leaves give me hope.

Another experiment I was still waiting on as spring began didn't have such positive results.  In my first attempt at planting bulbs in a container, I paid attention to the experts' advice for my zone 5b garden and swathed the pot of tulips in bubble wrap and kept it on my semi-sheltered back porch.  Some time in late March I decided the worst of winter had to be over, and I took off the bubble wrap and moved the pot onto the patio.  Unfortunately, soon after, we had a torrential rainstorm.  It wasn't until a few days later that I noticed there was two inches of water sitting on top of the pot.   I still don't know if the tulips would have made it through the winter, but I'm pretty sure they rotted away in all that muddy soil.  Oh well, lesson learned--I'm going to try this again next year and remember spring rains as well as winter storms.

My last question held over from spring wasn't really an experiment at all--the planting of a new little serviceberry last fall and wondering whether it would survive the winter . . . and Frank the pug's constant "watering" of it.  I'm happy to report it had lots of sweet little white blooms this spring and is now covered in red berries that the birds are eating as fast as they can.  I've wanted a serviceberry for a long time, so I'm so happy to see it doing well and eager to see it grow even larger in the coming years.  And Frank is happy, too, that he's not in trouble:)

3. Spring is the shortest season of the year in Illinois.  Or maybe it just seems that way.  But this year it certainly was true--winter didn't want to give in, and our last snowfall was in mid-April.  By early May temperatures soared, and it seemed as if we went straight into summer, giving us about two or three weeks of true spring.  Spring is also the busiest time in the garden for me, making the days fly by even faster.  Besides garden clean-up and planting containers and annuals in the garden, I  finally got around to a small expansion of the shade garden that I've been wanting to do for some time.  I wanted to thin out and divide many of the plants in the original crowded shade area, but between frequent rain showers and warmer temperatures that made everything grow a foot overnight, I didn't get nearly as much done as I had hoped.

Can you tell where I dug out hostas?  Nope, I didn't think so.  Oh well, there's always next year to finish this job.

4. Some plants are really happy in my garden, or Mother Nature knows best.  While I have killed more plants than I care to remember and have babied others along, disappointed in their reluctance to thrive, there are a few plants that just love it here and continue to multiply.

One of those plants is salvia.  I've had two 'May Night' Salvias in the sidewalk garden for nine years, and they have been faithful performers, if not especially eye-catching.  But a few years ago I planted a division from our MG garden in the Arbor Bed, and it has not only thrived, but has re-seeded all over the place.  I even dug up some stray plants this spring and gave some away to a friend and even (gasp!) threw a few others on the compost pile.  I keep intending to dig them all up and transplant them at the back of the garden, because they weren't part of the original planting scheme, but so far haven't accomplished that.  If I ever do transplant them all together, I could have my own Mini River of Salvia, ala the Lurie Garden:)

Another happy plant in my garden is the Purple Coneflower.  I've had a lot of trouble growing some natives from seeds or even seedlings, but not this beauty!  I'm not sure if purists would call Echinacea Purpurea a native plant, but it's close enough.  It always re-seeds in my garden, but this year it has outdone itself, spreading to various flowerbeds where it was never planted and covering most of the sidewalk bed.  Again, that wasn't part of the plan for the sidewalk bed, but I've given in to Nature's plan and leaving them alone, at least until after they have all finished blooming.  In another week or two I should have a buffet feast for the butterflies, bees, and finches!

Asiatic lily blooms and Salvia from the garden

Probably the most important lesson I've learned this spring is really a holdover from the awful winter--to enjoy each and every day, no matter the weather, and not "wish" them away.  As the delicate blooms and softer hues of spring give way to the raucous colors and exuberant blossoms of summer, I am vowing not to complain about the heat and humidity and wish for cooler days instead--I said I'm going to try:)  Early mornings and the hour or two before sunset are enjoyable times to be in the garden, I've found.  And when it simply gets too hot, I'll bring my blooms indoors!


Besides linking in with Plant Postings, I'm also linking in with Donna at Gardens Eye View  for her Seasonal Celebrations.  You can visit both for more looks at the past season with an eye toward the months ahead.

June Bloom Day

It's time for Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day once again, my favorite day of the month when I get the chance to show off what's blooming in my garden and get to see what it's blooming in gardens across the world.  Since I haven't had much time for posting lately, let's start off with some photos from last week of blooms that are now fading, but were at their peak a week or two ago.

This year the Knockout roses looked the best they ever have.  Red Knockouts, in particular, have become a  ubiquitous planting in both residential and commercial landscaping the last few years, and I noticed they were spectacular all over town.  I was hoping that my blooms were the result of my increasingly green thumb, but seeing the same results everywhere, I'm sure the cause was all the rain we had this spring instead.

Not as common, the yellow 'Radsunny' Knockout was filled with blossoms, too.

I'm not really a rose person--I love them, but prefer plants in my garden that can survive without too much attention from me--but I did take the time to really prune 'Zephirine Douhrin' this spring and tie up the canes so she didn't sprawl as much as last year.  The effort was worth it, as she responded with dozens of lightly fragrant blooms climbing up the arbor bench.

Alliums, on the other hand, are definitely a low-maintenance plant.  In my last post I featured Allium 'Roseum'; this one, I think is Allium 'Graceful.'

Blooms still looking good today include the spirea, name forgotten for the moment.

And Itea 'Little Henry'

Behind the butterfly garden, the rough-eared dogwood Cornus drummondii has just opened its blooms. This native tree/shrub is not particularly pretty except when in bloom, but it certainly is a bee and insect magnet.

It's penstemon time in the butterfly garden, including this passalong from Gail.  Its purple-pink blooms coordinate nicely with the nearby Phlox pilosa, which to my surprise are also still blooming.

An old standby, yarrow has spread throughout several garden areas.

Speaking of spreading, the lamium is overtaking more and more territory in front of the tall spruce tree next to the shade garden. This is one time I'm happy to see something spread.

A surprising spreader has been the 'May Night' Salvia in the arbor bed.  I brought home a small division two years ago from one of the gardens where I volunteer, and I now have at least 5 different clumps!  This photo doesn't really show the true picture, but I'm beginning to have my own little Lurie "River of Salvia":)  I wouldn't mind, but it's taking over more than I would like--note the poor little delphinium at the center bottom of the photo that barely has room to stretch.

Interrupting the presenting of blooms for a moment, my first pickings from the vegetable garden.  We had such a rainy spring through mid-May that everything has really gotten away from me. These radishes should definitely have been pulled a week or two before!

Taking the time to take a closer look every so often always reveals some surprises.  Sedum 'Angelina,' used as a groundcover in a few areas, surprises me every spring with these tiny yellow blossoms.

Another surprise--I had been watching what I thought were volunteer nigella or cosmos, but the true identity of these plants was revealed when the buds opened--Larkspur!

I was disappointed the past two years when the lily bulbs I had purchased at the Chicago Flower and Garden Show failed to do much of anything.  I guess I should have been more patient.  However, I swear I thought I had bought oriental lilies, not Asiatic, and I know for sure they were labeled a salmon color.  This hot red looks anything but subtle salmon!

The last two weeks of primarily sunny days have been busy, busy ones, mainly getting all the new plants into the ground or into containers.  I'm beginning to think I have far too many containers and need to cut down, but I have a hard time resisting some annuals like these double impatiens.

Other annuals, though, are must-haves for the butterflies and the hummingbirds.  One of the few hummingbird sightings this spring was at this 'Black and Blue' Salvia.

Another sighting was at the Agastache.  The perennial Agastache that did so well for me two years ago was a big disappointment last year, so this year I found a couple of annual Agastache instead (somewhere there's a tag for this...). The hummingbirds don't seem to mind a bit. I'm happy to report that I finally have everything planted--hooray!  But this photo is an embarrassing reminder that there is much more to do--weeding, thinning, and mulching are at the top of my to-do list before things get totally out of hand!

In spite of the fact I feel rather overwhelmed at all that still needs to be done, it's a great time to be in the garden.  As proof of more delights to come, my favorite flower of all is just starting--the first coneflower bloom!

To see what else is blooming around the country and the world and to join in the monthly celebration of Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day, check in with our hostess Carol at May Dreams Gardens.

ABC Wednesday: Awesome Annuals

Welcome to the beginning of Round 5 of ABC Wednesdays as we start the alphabet over with the letter A. I've really enjoyed participating in this meme, but this time around I've decided I may not participate every week, especially during gardening season. However, this week is perfect because I had already decided to focus on Annuals for the letter A, and then Mr. McGregor's Daughter invited other garden bloggers to post about their "worst and best" annuals this year. So today I get to combine two memes in one post!

While perennials form the backbone of any garden, it's hard not to resist the bright blooms of new annuals each spring. I primarily use annuals in containers for long-lasting blooms throughout the summer and have some favorites I use each year. This is the third year I've used "Raspberry Blast" Supertunia in my favorite urn, and it's a petunia I would wholeheartedly recommend. It mounds nicely and drapes tidily over the edges of the container, and is positively covered with these variegated candy-pink blooms all season.

One of my all-time favorite annuals that I've written about here several times before is the annual Salvia "Victoria Blue." It's just coming into its own, and this sunny photo doesn't do it justice by any means. I have much better luck with them in the garden rather than in containers, and they're planted in several flowerbeds here. By autumn they're in their full glory, and they hold their blooms until frost. I also planted a "Black and Blue" Salvia, not pictured here, this year; it's much fuller than the Victorias and is a deep, deep blue. We'll see at the end of the season which one wins the Salvia beauty contest.

Another annual that has become a staple on my planting shopping list each spring is lantana. Two similar pots contain "Luscious Lemonade," a lemony yellow, but I really love the multi-colored varieties like this "Mimosa." If we ever get another heat wave this summer--and I'm not complaining at all about the cool weather we've had!--lantana will be one annual that will stand up to the hottest rays of the sun.

Will I ever stop raving about zinnias?:) My zinnia seeds were sown rather late, so I'll have to wait to show you those tall beauties. Instead, another favorite of mine for containers are the different colors of the Profusion series. I started with the orange zinnias--and have a few this year--then I found the hot, hot pink Cherry zinnias pictured above. Last year I added a few white ones to a border in the roadside garden.

This year I found a new color--Apricot! Of course, I had to have these as well. The funny thing is that after a few weeks I noticed some of them had turned this color . . .

. . . yellow! There is a lovely lemony yellow variety of the Profusions as well, but these were definitely apricot when I planted them. They've now turned back to apricot. Could it be a lack of nutrients before I fertilized them? Too much heat for awhile? Strange . . . we'll see what color they are by the end of the summer.

Sometimes, though, you can't beat the old standbys . . . or newer versions of them. For several years I have planted a built-in planter on our front porch with pink geraniums and purple petunias. Last year this combo looked pretty good, but I really wanted something that would trail down the wall in a cascade effect. While looking for my usual "Royal Velvet" purple supertunias, I asked one of the employees at a favorite garden center for her recommendation. Immediately, she took me to see these "Royal Magenta" supertunias. She raved over them, and I have to say they are definitely going to be on my list next year! This is a good lesson for any gardener--sometimes it pays to ask for recommendations rather than stick with the "same old, same old."

While the camera can't seem to capture the color of the petunias--they're really a deep fuschia--it does well with the pale pink of the geraniums also planted here, "Rocky Mountain Light Pink." We actually have a nursery in our small town of about 4,000, and I bought all my geraniums there after discovering they were the fullest and lushest geraniums I had seen anywhere--and cheaper, too! You may think this combo of light pink and fuschia is a little gaudy, and maybe it is, but it's grown on me this summer.

Besides, this is the first time in five years this planter has looked the way I envisioned it!

Mr. McGregor's Daughter also asked us to report on our "worst" annuals, but the only ones I can say didn't live up to expectations are some that didn't germinate in my new "wild"/butterfly/weed garden. But I plan to do a post just on this new garden one of these days, so the disappointments will have to wait until then. And I didn't even mention my different coleus . . . but, hey, the letter C will be coming up in two short weeks!

ABC Wednesday is hosted once again by the energetic Mrs. Nesbitt. And join in on the review of annuals at Mr. McGregor's Daughter.