Lobelia ‘Palace Royal’ holds court in my containers

Lobelia 'Palace Royal'

I wrote an article for the upcoming March issue of Northern Gardener magazine on taking one pot through all four seasons, swapping out plantings accordingly. It was a hoot to have this test pot in my garden though the spring, summer, fall and into the the holidays. It was my baby, my test kitchen. I cared for it fastidiously and it showed. May I tend all my pots and plantings so intimately this coming season.

I mixed it up in this particular container, going for the classic mix of thriller, filler and spiller, as well as  textural and color contrasts. It makes for a pretty splashy affair. Such mixed plantings work especially well as a focal point, near a doorway or a sitting area. It’s a great way to get some fun variety in a limited amount of space.

Out and about in the perennial borders, I love a pot full of one variety. It’s a clean, classy pop of color; very useful  to perk up a garden area. Lobelia ‘Palace Royal’ is a plant good enough to eat. The purplish/blue gentle flowers are so soft to the eye and touch.

I have the most luck with them in planters… they do well with plenty of watering, but must be well-drained. They love the sun, as long as they don’t bake. So sun and water and no wet feet will keep them happy. They really are striking… use them a lot.

In the above photo, because they are such a tidy, contained plant, they help the rusty old milk can work as a planter. The blue #27 was our farm’s # when we brought the cans of fresh milk into the Arlington Creamery every morning, as a sidenote. The Clematis ‘Ernest Markham’ gets along nicely, with the color of the lobelia.

When in doubt, a pot of one variety of flowers will have impact.

Moose sighting in Minneapolis front yard

Moose sighting in Minneapolis.

The elusive Minneapolis miniature front yard moose was spotted this week fleeing the crazy-driving mini-vans near a school at 4th and 47th in south Minneapolis.

It is a  long-held belief that his sighting indicates the we have seen the worst of winter and spring is on its way. His sighting is a more reliable forecast than Puxitony Phil.

Take heart frozen ones. We have turned the corner. Step outside and take a breath. If you get real still, you will notice a difference in the air. The sense of the earth beginning to warm.

Look around and visualize yourself in your garden. Begin to see the pots overflowing with petunias and the perennial borders filling up. Imagine the warm breeze on your skin and begin planning for the greatest gardening season yet.

Dare I say cabin fever…

I’ve always shyed away from using the terms cabin fever or stir-crazy to describe my January state, fearing that the naming of it would even more fully claim it.  Well, I’ve got it big time. I think it’s a worse state of affairs for those who rely heavily on digging in the dirt.

I come home from work and I can not settle down. I pace, usually back and forth from the kitchen, stopping for another bite of supper du jour. I pick up the knitting, which zens me for a moment, but then I am, out of nowhere, clicking through the American Idols and House Hunters. It would all be different if I could be working outside.

I don’t recall it ever being this strong.

Before I kill the dog, I simply must develop and practice some tactics for relief:

1.  The indoor plants are not really doing it for me anymore. I mean, they’re fine, but it really isn’t the pinching back of a leaf or the watering of a pot that I need. I need activity, so I am harnessing my energy to re-invigorate the giant ficus in the living room. Tonight I am off to Ikea, Home Depot and any big box in my way in search of a pot that is more cute than spendy. I will also purchase river rock (buying rocks is such inane folly) and top the soil with them.

2. I will aerobically exercise like a Pitt or Clooney. Work off that steam. Exorcise the winter demons by sweating them out. Hey, I may be in my best shape of the year by the time the soil needs to be turned. Much like gardening, it’s hard to think too much when exercising.

3. Re-visit the seed catalogs. Dreams turning into creative visualization. I’ll stick to my one order a year limit, but I will plot and plan as much as I want. Choosing and re-choosing my $40 worth. When you open a seed catalog, you can almost smell the fresh air.

4. Stand outside and take in the air. Especially in the morning. If you do so, just as the sun is rising, emotions rise up. Faith, hope and plain old looking forward can get you through a lot.

Could it be: the nastier the winter the bigger the spring payoff?

Seed catalog temptation

Oh, to order or not to order. That is the question sparked by the buy $25 worth, get $25 free stickers on each. In years past, I would pile up the catalogs, making lists, even spreadsheets noting what I was ordering from each of the tomes of impulse purchasing.

Then the boxes would come. Don’t get me wrong; there are deals to be had. But the tiny little pots and (heavy sigh) bareroots aren’t exactly like shopping at the nursery. The items are extremely infant and a little sad and lonely when treated like a nursery-sized perennial in the border.

I now let myself have one order, because the half off deal on the cover is as titillating as the weight loss headlines on the checkout magazine covers. Its a shot of encouragement on a 5 below January night.

So I treat myself to the one indulgent order. But I follow a few maxims:

1. No bareroots (read the fine print) unless the plant is a real must-have.

2. Ignore #1 if it’s a delicious plant that is typically started from bareroot in the spring, like a dahlia or canna.

3. Splurge on a perennial that is tough to find, like Blue Sea Holly.

4. Get an unusual houseplant. Like a Myer Lemon Tree.

5. Go for the attractively priced trees and shrubs if size doesn’t matter to you.

6. Buy something that you never would without seeing it in a seed catalog, like a grow your own mushroom box.

Most of all, commit to changing your plans the evening that the box comes from the catalog warehouse, ususally somewhere in Ohio or Michigan. Though they are a bit of a pain, the seed catalog is a piece of gardening history that I hope never goes away.

Red in the morning, gardeners take warning…

November sunrise through the oak trees

Not really. A sunrise like this does stop you in your tracks though. My instinct was to scramble for the camera, but first I just took pause and soaked in the colors: the fire-pink, magenta, indigo blue and glowing lavender set against the stark black outlines of the the gnarled oaks.

Then I grabbed the camera.

The borrowed landscape is a useful and wonderful part of the garden, particularly in the small space spot. The neighbor’s majestic oaks serve as backdrop and somehow fool the eye into thinking they are part of my property.

Plus, I do not have to continually pick up all the little stick droppings.

Consider, the vista beyond when designing your own scape. Artfully incorporating distant trees, buildings, and landmarks gives the impression that your garden goes well beyond what it really does. You have an instant back 180 acres!

Boston Ivy puts on a show

Boston Ivy on a brick apartment building in south Minneapolis. Stunning!

The classic look of ivy covered walls really comes to life in the fall, when adorned with Boston Ivy.

Boston Ivy is a long-lived, rather fast growing perennial vine, and a great choice if you want the ivy-walled look. It’s perfect on this brick apartment building a happened upon in south Minneapolis. I wouldn’t recommend it if you have a wooden structure, as the tendrils will eventually damage the wood and make paint jobs even more of a pain in the neck.

I do have a patch growing on my six-foot privacy fence in my backyard. It softens the appearance of the fence and is fairly easy to control with a rip and a tear here and there.

Alas, all these green tomatoes in the garden

Green tomatoes in a box

Weather rumor has it (isn’t that about all a weather forecast really is?) that tomorrow night will host a killing frost. The scramble began today to save what is worth saving in the garden.

I moved in the rubber tree that had been summering on the patio corner (and about doubled in size) and moved in the Meyer Lemon Tree that was the thriller in a summer container. I also potted up the Swedish Ivy that I plan on bringing back out next summer.

And all the green tomatoes. Experts have told us that a tomato must have at least a hint of a rosy blush if it is to ripen indoors, or at least a slightly-soft bottom. From my experience all but the rock hard little ones will eventually come around.

My favorite method is to line a cardboard box with a grocery bag (nice use for the odd-sized ones) and add a layer of the tomatoes. You can add a gingerly-placed second layer of the smaller ones.

Place the box in a dark, slightly moist area (my basement is perfect) and let them be, checking daily for rotting or moldy fruits. The ethylene gas released by the little red devils will help the mass ripening, but you can also add ripening bananas to the mix to promote the process.

A taste of summer for at least another few weeks.

Dusty Miller saved my gardening butt this summer

Dusty Miller fills a pot.

An accent plant that has always bored me a little worked its way into my heart this past summer and I now declare “I love Dusty Miller.”

Botanically speaking, its Senecio Cineraria. Native to southern Europe (but with less attitude), it is a perennial to zone 9, but an annual up in these parts. When it is grown as a perennial it flowers in a lovely, little yellow way its second year. But I will have to take the southern gardening books word on that one.

Dusty Miller is a nice brightening, focal point in the shade garden.

I think it works so well in the landscape pallet because it has the brightening, highlighting aspects of a white plant, but toned down enough to not over-pop. I used it in a pot in my sunny perennial border when celosia I had planted petered out. I loved how it filled in and added a nice texture.

Over in the shade, pond area, it acts as a lovely focal point; an unexpected spray of featheriness. And it is great in my planters that flank my French doors (one side gets sun, the other-not so much). It gets just a little leggy when it doesn’t get a lot of sun. But just a bit.

Dusty Miller works well in a shage container.

Dusty Miller works great in arrangements and guess what, it is reported to be deer-proof. You can root cuttings of it and it dries nicely, so try bringing in cuttings of it for a fall arrangement. When dried, it actually looks exactly as it does when it is alive and growing.

Dusty Miller, you have elevated above the other hoop house spikes and vinca vines. You are a star.

Heart Stump

This stump gives a bit of hope

My dad once said “There is nothing sadder than a sick or dying tree.” Walking around the neighborhoods of Minneapolis, you can get pretty sad these days. The “Ulmus Americanus” are being felled pell mell. We learned our lesson, hopefully. Diversity of tree varieties is a good thing.

I was out walking and happened upon this tree stump. It caught my attention and offered a bit of hope, as if the tree was saying “I’m okay. My spirit will go on.”

Dutch elm disease is a deadly fungus carried by the Elm Bark Beetle. The wood chips from a fallen Elm cannot pass on the fungus, so the chips are one way to carry the trees legacy on.

Kiss my aster

Purple perennial asters pop in the fall border

I could kiss my perennial aster I love it so much.

I am not sure of the particular variety , but I believe it is ‘Purple Dome.’ It is hardy to zone 4 and was purchased at Home Depot when it was in bloom. All the tag gave me was “Hardy Aster.” I used to poo-poo all the blooming perennials that are pushed at you in the garden centers, but they do help you plot your progressive blooming if you pay attention.

Asters are great additions to the perennial border. They are easy to overlook because you need to wait to September for the payoff, but its a big one. A couple shots of their royal purple help to pick up the dappled bits of purple throughout the garden and bring the whole plot to life.

They also bring out the bluish tones in the fieldstone path and complement the blushing red rouge of the Sedum ‘Autumn Joy.”

Run out while the getting is good and plant yourself some asters. You could also plant them in a pot and and wait to get them in the ground by October 1.