Tip pruning by teenagers

One afternoon last week I left home to run a few errands, but not before stopping to admire the Eryngium agavifolium closest to the driveway and it’s tall, straight bloom spike. Upon returning home the first thing I saw was this… Lest you think it just got top heavy here are the marks where someone tried to break it. These stems are tough characters…not easily torn, but easily broken. Going back to investigate the damage to the Eryngium is when I noticed there was gravel kicked all over the sidewalk, this was the work of the under 20 crowd for sure.

The chief gravel disperser is usually under 10, but hopefully there weren’t any under 10 year-olds walking the sidewalk all by themselves (just because a parent is with them doesn’t stop the under 10’s from messing with the gravel, no they kick and throw and occasionally the parent will scold “don’t do that!” but never, ever, do they make them actually put it back) so this particular culprit it had to be an over 10 and on-their-own teenager, because no parent would let their child repeatedly break and pull leaves from someone’s garden, right?

It didn’t stop with the Eryngium, no next I noticed a Kniphofia leaves pulled and scattered around. But even worse was the tip pruning to my baby Arctostaphylos ‘Austin Griffiths.” Looking out the kitchen window in the morning I’ve been admiring the bright green new growth, now pieces of it were lying around the garden. My Manzanita was tip pruned by a teenager. Okay, on the “bright side” it could have been much worse…really I got off easy. There are tall Yucca and Hesperaloe blooms that could have been abused. Not to mention the Agaves, I would cry if I saw them maliciously broken. No, all-in-all what happened was nothing to compared to what could have been. And that’s the part that could keep me awake at night. (no, I didn't stage that last photo, that's exactly how I found it)

a Mother's Day nursery visit

After I hung up from talking with my mom I started to feel a little sad that I (once again) wasn’t with her on Mother’s Day. So of course I did what any one would do and got in the car and went off to visit a nursery! I’ve blogged about Marbott’s in NE Portland a time or two in the past. It’s a charming, if a little rough around the edges place, and it reminds me of a couple nurseries back in Spokane. Nurseries I would have dragged my mom to if I were there visiting her. Besides the sentimental pull it’s also about time to buy my annual Papyrus and Marbott’s is where I’ve always gotten them. As luck would have it they still had a few. You can barely make out four gallon sized containers between the big leafy green stuff on the left and the purple "festival" grass on the right. Actually I’m pretty sure I’m still buying from the same inventory as that first one 4 years ago, the plants just keep getting older and knarlier! It’s nice that they keep them tucked away just for me. I was also tempted by some very large Umbrella Palms, or Cyperus involucratus. Unfortunately this is where the “rough around the edges” part rears its ugly head. There was no price on them…it’s about a 50/50 chance at Marbott’s that something will be priced. Later when I saw one of the owners I asked and was told $9.95. Great! Only to be told $19.95 by his mother (it’s a family affair) when I went to buy it. She “kindly” offered to split the difference with me at $15.95 (even though actually splitting the difference would have been 14.95 right?). This kind of thing is frustrating and you have to be ready to deal with it if you shop here.

Last week I mentioned my trip to Joy Creek Nursery to buy Saxifraga macnabiana. Turns out I could have gotten it here! Bigger plants than Joy Creek and also more expensive. While most would probably grow this Rock Rose (Helianthemum hybrid, Henfield Brilliant) for the flower… I liked it for its foliage… I love the way they display their Hostas, not lined up in rows according to type but all grouped together. Every time I see it I want to buy them all and replicate this at home. There were several gorgeous Abutilons. But the black Petunias seemed to be getting all the Mother’s Day attention. I am a sucker for rich dark colored grasses. One of my favorite Ceanothus (I’ve bought two of them here), Pt. Reyes Ceanothus. You can look, but you cannot buy! Here’s another one of those frustrating bits. They reuse old pots and don’t always change the label. At least the old name got crossed out here…it would be nice to have the right name on there too! Hopefully nobody will mistake this Olive for a Japanese Maple. A similar issue has happened to me when I’ve went to buy something thinking it was the price marked ($9.95), only to be told no that’s an old pot, this plant is actually $11.95. You are probably wondering why I keep going back with stories like this? It’s the old time charm. This place is seriously old school. They aren’t slick, they are a family run business and they are working hard. They may have issues with their pricing and their container maintenance but they know their plants.

One of my favorite memories of this place was the day "the old guy" (as I hear everyone call him) was so excited about a new plant that he almost dragged me over to see it. Once we were standing in front of it all that there was to see were 6 or 8 plastic pots filled with soil and a sign they had made with a photo on it. No plant to be seen and they wanted $14.95 for them! Crazy. Well I love seeing someone so excited about a plant so I took a leap of faith and bought one. It was a Rodgersia pinnata 'Chocolate Wings'...the first time I'd ever heard of a Rodgersia and it wasn't until I got home and started researching it that I realized what a treasure I had been shown. I like visiting this nursery and I want them to stick around! Warts and all.

Ponytail Grass…I’ve never heard it called that, but it certainly seems to fit. Maybe even better than it’s more common common name Mexican Feather Grass! Besides my two Cyperus purchases (Cyperus papyrus and Cyperus involucratus) I seemed to be in a fire-dancing mood. Who knew? Both the rich dark grass (Uncinia, actually a sedge) which I bought a pair of… And the little Kniphofia hirsuta (at $2.95 I bought 3) were called Fire Dance. I didn’t realize this until I got home. What is the universe trying to tell me? Do I need to go fire dancing? Happy Mother’s Day mom, I wish we could have spent the day visiting nurseries together! Maybe next year?

The strange things plants do

Have you ever noticed that for every negative in the garden there is a positive? Like the day when one of my trio of healthy statuesque Verbascum……collapsed in the heat (silly me leaving the garden on a 98 degree weekend!).

And then I discovered a Ginger that I had given up for dead (MONTHS ago) was actually alive and well. Only a little tardy to the garden party.

Or when a Kniphofia overnight turns brown and implodes…

Well so be it. Because I’ve discovered that the Colocasia that I thought were goners (they had survived the previous 4 winters!) were actually just sleeping in. A full three months later than I should normally see them they’ve finally decided to poke their leaves out from under the bed coverings.

And while I could be complaining about the miniature size of my fingerling carrots (whose finger? A baby?)….

…instead I’ll enjoy the fact that my variegated Yucca, which had been reverting to solid green, seems to be reconnecting with its inner yellow striped self.

I know most of these things can be explained by environmental conditions (too much or too little water, temperatures not warm enough, etc…) but it still makes me wonder.

How are things in your garden? All good? Too much bad? Or just the right mix to remind you of the natural balance of things?

How do you say Kniphofia?

Hearing Sean Hogan (owner of Cistus Nursery) pronounce Kniphofia during one of his talks at the Yard Garden and Patio Show in Portland was a highlight for me. I had been muddling my way through that name for years and had finally given up and started calling it ‘red hot poker’ – a name I abhor and doesn’t really work for me anyway because I tend towards the lime, yellow and orange end of the spectrum for my Kniphofia.

Luckily since then I’ve discovered the Fine Gardening pronunciation guide where I can hear most any Latin plant name pronounced. Of course that is no guarantee that I’ll remember the name, but it is a handy tool.

Back in June when we put up the Shade Pavilion, I blogged about the fact that this Kniphofia had changed its color and was now orange…it had always been lime green! Well, it’s back to lime green. Only the one flower was orange (shown above). Odd. I bought these little Kniphofia to replace a couple of Heuchera that couldn’t stand the heat. I didn’t expect them to bloom this year, I thought they were done for the season, yet right before our heat wave they started pushing out these tiny citrusy spikes. Unfortunately I seem to have lost the tag so I can’t tell you their name!
Below are Kniphofia Caulescens, they were part of my initial planting in the front yard when we got rid of the lawn but they went absolutely crazy and overgrew their space. The older thick juicy leaves would turn purple and then dry up. They were a maintenance nightmare but I still loved them for their Jurassic proportions. There are so many different varieties of Kniphofia, I spotted these at Portland Nursery last week. The first one is called ‘Peachy Cheeks’ and the second is ‘Vanilla,’ they called out to me but I somehow managed to leave them behind.