Each Little World

A shrub for winter structure

Erin, at The Impatient Gardener, invited me to submit my favorite shrub for a recent round-up of that subject on her blog. Given the snowy winter that so many of us have experienced, I think that what I told her is worth sharing with the rest of you:

"If it were May or June, then I'm sure I'd declare Doublefile Viburnum my favorite shrub. It's definitely a show-stopper and is always the center of attention when it blooms. But shrubs in the winter garden need to stand-out in a different way than summer plants. At this season, Alpine currant (Ribes alpinum) makes a much needed statement. We grow both the straight species and the dwarf variety ('Green Mound')."

Our dwarf currant hedge continues the curve of bamboo hoops edging a path buried under the snow.

"They take well to pruning, creating strong horizontal lines in the garden through the seasons: green in summer; almost black in winter. Some years, they make a strong presence in the winter garden; other times only the top of the hedge peeks out of the deep snow. Because they become so densely twiggy they have not been bowed and broken like so many other garden specimens during the heavy snowstorms we've had in recent years. It's a shrub that's well-worth a second look, and it's readily available at most nurseries."

Note: These photos are from prior years. Though we have a lot of snow on the ground, we are at the beginning of a warmer stretch of weather and hoping it means Spring is on the way.

Foliage Follow-up: 9.16.2012

This summer I've been enjoying two foliage plants that have a similar look and feel but come from different families. Vacouveria hexandra, known as the "Vancouver fern (below)," makes a great groundcover in dry shade. This swath is growing next to an Arborvita hedge in a grove of River Birch trees so you know there is a lot of competition for moisture.

I love Adiantum pedatum aka Maidenhair fern. Years ago a neighbor gave me a clump and I've been a fan ever since. Two years ago I planted Adiantum Venustum (pictured below), the Himalayan Maindenhair fern. Though it has the same lacy quality, Venustum lacks the spiral shape of the tall fronds in the straight species. It grows instead in airy clumps that slowly spread out like a lacy groundcover. These are growing in a richer, more moist environment that the Vancoveria.  I am quite pleased with it given the fact that its first two summers in the garden have both been  hotter and drier than normal.

To find out what kinds of foliage appeals to other gardeners, visit Pam Penick at Digging for Foliage Follow-Up Day.

Wordless Wednesday

Peony postscript

Given the interest in sustainable agriculture, it was only a matter of time before someone applied the concept to flowers. Now there's a book and a blog on the topic: "The 50 Mile Bouquet: Seasonal, Local and Sustainable Flowers." The blog is fascinating because it really makes you think about where flowers come from and who grows them. The site has a link to the Association of Specialty Cut Flower Growers where you can find the growers in your state and area if you want to join this particular "buy local" movement. There were 14 entries for Wisconsin.

But the most interesting tidbit I discovered was the video, "Empowered Peony Picking," featuring peony grower Joan Thorndike. As a professional peony grower, it's critical for Thorndike to pick peonies at the perfect moment to send them off to her floral customers. She picks them when the buds feel like marshmallows rather than marbles, which she talks about in the video. Thorndike said you can also cut peonies at the marshmallow bud stage and hold them in the fridge — wrapped in paper — for a month. Then you bring them out, recut the stems, put them in water and voila: you've got peonies.

So I tried it and it worked! Since this was my first attempt, I have a few kinks to work out but I will definitely do this again next year. I think my buds were not quite marshmallow-y enough when I cut them, so the flowers are smaller than they would be when blooming on the bush. But I cut these flowers on May 17th and they bloomed this afternoon, June 17th — literally after a month in the crisper bin in my refrigerator. 

I took them out on June 13th and by the afternoon of the 14th — when I hoped they would be ready for a party — they weren't doing much of anything. To get them out of the way during the party, I stuck them in the cool, dark garage and forgot all about them. Brought them back into the light and heat last night (the 16th) and recut them. This morning they were clearly opening and I had peonies by mid-afternoon. Too cool! 

Ferns that aren't feathery

. . . and that look good until the snow arrives is another way of describing Hart's Tongue ferns. I grow two versions of this fern. The top image shows the straight species (Asplenium scolopendrium) while the lower picture is the ruffled version (A. scolopendrium Angustifolium). The increased ruffling on the later plant is quite obvious.

My garden has any number of ferns that look good until they get buried by the first snowfall. And then there are Hellebores, Epimediums, Hepaticas and Arum italicum — plants that arrive early, stay late, and always look good. I never thought too much about them in terms of their evergreen qualities. Living in Wisconsin, you get used to thinking that nothing is evergreen except for conifers and boxwoods and the like.

But I suddenly made that evergreen connection with my ferns and assorted hardy perennials as I was reading Carolyn's Shade Gardens blog. She'd been doing a series of posts on flowers, groundcovers and Hostas that look good in fall, proving you can have a beautiful garden at this season without mums! She really made me really think about my fall garden. I actually went out and looked at which Hostas were still looking good late in the season and which ones should be replaced by a more serviceable variety. And I noted her many versions of the Italian Arum. Mine is doing well, but is in the back corner of the garden while Carolyn planted hers by her front door. So I need to see if there's a spot for one of these beauties where I can enjoy it at this time of year without trekking out to the back forty! Check out her blog for some great fall plants, along with excellent gardening info.  

Foliage Follow-up: 10.16.2011

Not much happening in the flower garden except for the last toad lilies. But the trees and shrubs are starting their fall foliage extravaganza. There are the two tone examples like this weeping Katsura (Cercidiphyllum japonicum 'pendula'), as well as . . .

Witch hazel (Hamamelis virginiana)

the striped bark maple (Acer tegmentosum 'White Tigress')

willow leaf Amsonia (Amsonia ciliata).

Then there are the leaves that are red + another color like this Pagoda Dogwood (Cornus alternifolia)

and this Korean maple (Acer pseudosieboldiana)

Redbud (Cercis canadensis 'Forest Pansy')

Dwarf Fothergill (Fothergilla gardenii)

Japanese Stewartia (Stewartia pseudocamillia) 

Pagoda Dogwood (Cornus alternifolia)

Doublefile Viburnum (Viburnum plicatum tomentosum 'Mariesi'

and the annual show stopper of the garden, Korean maple (Acer pseudosieboldiana)

To see what kind of foliage is starring in other gardens, visit Pam at Digging who hosts Foliage Follow-Up on the 16th of each month. 

Jeweled slaw

I used to be very hesitant to try recipes that I found on the Internet. I think it stemmed from the fact that a friend always made dishes with such recipes, and they always left something to be desired. I've definitely gotten over my reluctance, though I am still careful about the source.

Of course, if you do a lot of cooking then it's pretty easy to determine if a recipe makes sense from the chemistry, the flavor and the aesthetic viewpoints. This is one of those recipes. It comes — of all places — from the quarterly e-newsletter of the Library of American Landscape History. Though the LALH gave it a rather prosaic name, I think its bright, intense colors make it look like a plate of jewels!

RAW BEET AND CARROT SLAW

INGREDIENTS:
5 medium to large beets, peeled and grated
8 carrots, peeled and grated
3 tbsp. parsley, finely chopped
2 tbsp. sesame seeds

VINAIGRETTE:
2 tbsp. olive oil
½ tsp. sesame oil
4 tbsp. red wine vinegar
juice of 1 orange
1 tbsp. honey
1 ½ tsp. salt
Several twists of fresh-ground black pepper

DIRECTIONS:
Mix the ingredients for the vinaigrette and set aside. Trim off the tops and bottoms of the beets and peel. Grate beets with a food processor or hand grater. In a large bowl, toss grated beets and vinaigrette. Cover, refridgerate and marinate for two hours, allowing the beets to soften and absorb the flavors. Stir occasionally to keep beets evenly coated.

Half-an-hour before the beets finish marinating, peel and grate the carrots and chop the parsley. When beets are done, remove them from the fridge and toss with carrots, parsley, and sesame seeds. Adjust seasoning to taste.

EDITOR'S NOTES: I made a couple of changes and additions. First I cut the recipe in half using three beets and four carrots to serve three of us. I added some grated ginger root to the vinaigrette. Then I marinated the beets and carrots separately to keep the colors bright and never mixed them as the directions call for. I plated the salad just like the photo above. I also added black sesame seeds to the carrots, left out the white sesame seeds and just added parsley to the beets.

I served this salad one night with chicken curry and saffron rice and another with a smokey grilled flank steak. It held its own with the strong flavors of both of these dishes.

If you like gardening and history, sign up for the newsletter of the Library of American Landscape History. It is always filled with interesting tidbits about designers, historic properties, new books and more. The current newsletter notes that LALH is republishing Fletcher Steele's "Design in the Little Garden." I am lucky enough to have a first edition of this wonderful little book. It would make a valuable addition to any gardener's library. And at only $20, it's a more affordable purchase than many garden books.

Though published originally in 1924, I think it holds up well and is especially valuable for city folks with limited space. It includes an elegantly useful design for a little tool shed that is a long narrow structure that could be built against the side of the house or garage or even a board fence. And Steele includes one of my favorite sections of any garden design book: he takes three adjacent properties of the same size and shape with similar houses and landscapes each one differently. All three include an area labeled "drying yard" for drying clothes outdoors.

Photos and recipe by Jessica Dawson / LIBRARY OF AMERICAN LANDSCAPE HISTORY  

My too late summer containers

When garden blogger Daniel Mount was recently in Madison looking at potential gardens for a tour by folks from the Pacific Northwest, one of those we visited was the home garden of Jeff Epping, hort director at Olbrich Botanical Gardens in Madison. Seeing Jeff's dozens of garden pots of every size and type — all filled with marvelous plant combinations — inspired me to go home and do something!

First I went looking for a large shallow pot that could hold a group of dwarf evergreens. Amazingly enough I found one locally at the Bruce Company. And it looks like it was made to go with our other large outdoor pots made by Wisconsin artists. I planted this low one with things I already had on hand that were waiting for permanent homes in the garden. I also added a couple of small rocks and two self-seeded white pines. And then mulched it with white pine needles.

On the other side of the deck, I gathered plants that were scattered around the garden (in and out of the ground!), put them in pots and grouped them around the Buddha for emphasis. Not perfect but not bad, considering it was very late in the season to being doing this kind of display.  

Plants in the display include three varieties of Begonias, herbs, and ornamental cabbages that can take the cooler fall temps. 

But the recent frost warnings made me bring everything into the garage for a few days until the overnight temperatures started to rise again. The truth is that many of these plants are going to have to permanently move indoors for the winter any day now. I admit that my containers are a far cry from those at Olbrich, but it's been a fun experiment and certainly has inspired me to give containers more thought in the future.

Each Little World

For the mind, by nature stagey, welds its frame

Tomb-like around each little world of a day.

We jump from picture to picture and cannot follow

the living curve that is breathlessly the same.

— Louis Mac Neice / 1907-1963

What little world?

EACH LITTLE WORLD that collides with mine:

The world of interiors and exteriors; bibliophiles; china and dishing; feasts and fests; food; flowers and gardens; material possessions and textile obsessions; worldly goods and bads.

Your worlds and mine.

Let the collision begin.

The above two paragraphs and accompanying two photos announced the arrival of my blog exactly three years ago today. Though collision is certainly not the right word — more like a whisper — given the few folks who actually read it in those days.

In the beginning I posted daily; sometimes even twice a day. It seemed easy compared to putting out two editions of a daily newspaper as I did in my pre-blogging life. I considered the blog to be more colorful versions of the myriad topics I covered in print. But when I went to the garden bloggers' 2009 meet-up in Chicago, they told me myriad topics were a blogging no-no. It's all about niche marketing and staying on topic. If you've been reading this blog for the last year — or week — you know that's not what you'll find here. I veer off track easily and often.

While I love to garden and write about it, I am equally adamant about art and reading. I am passionate about politics and history, and have been fascinated by food, fashion and fiber long before I ever picked up a trowel. In fact, I came to gardening through Elizabethan embroidery. I have been steadily writing about those topics since 1981 with a couple of short breaks between publishers. I've said it before and I say it again: To limit my blog to gardening is to limit my life. 

If you live in Wisconsin — or pay attention to politics — you know my life, like that of thousands of others, has been turned topsy turvy by the actions of our governor. Some of you were not very happy when this mostly-garden-blog suddenly went political in February of this year. I wish I could say you've seen and read the last passionate political post but I know the fight's not over, and thus neither are my takes on current events. I spent part of my newspaper career as an editorial writer and editorial page editor — professionally opinionated as I like to say. I was writing about politics right along side of home and garden stories. And that's how I see the blog — the place where all my worlds can come together.  

I've been lucky to discover a world of readers whose pursuits are equally diverse. Some of you I've known for years in my pre-blog life, some of you I've met in person post-blog and some of you I look forward to meeting one of these days. I picture all of you when I write, when I decide what to write, and when I look to see what you've written. 

Thank you for continuing to visit my little world. I'd love to hear what you think so don't be shy; leave a comment. If you do comment, be sure to scroll down and type in the crazy combo of numbers and letters that let's me know you are a real reader and not a robot. Here's to another year of sharing our worlds.

Blogger meet-up in Madison

Mark and I did not attend the most recent garden blogger meet-up in Seattle. We'd taken a trip to Seattle and points north and south of that city a number of years ago to see Asian gardens. Though we hadn't visited private gardens on that trip, we decided that the timing just wasn't right for us to head west this year. But, as it happens, Seattle came to us last week — in the person of Daniel Mount (below, with Joan Severa in her Madison garden).

Daniel Mount — garden designer, writer and blogger — stayed with us on a flying visit to Madison Monday and Tuesday. He was here to scout out local gardens for a 2012 tour of this area by Pacific Northwest gardeners. As the "Seattle Fling" blogger gathering suggests, usually gardeners are flocking to see those temperate northwest gardens rather than the other way round. (Those of you who were at the Seattle meet-up may remember seeing Daniel at the Epping and Lane gardens and Bellevue Botanic). 

Daniel is a Wisconsin native with family still residing here and he knows what we have to offer: Chicago public gardens like the CBG and the Lurie and Olbrich Botanical Gardens and the UW-Madison Arboretum here. Our Arboretum is home to the world's oldest restored prairie as well as an outstanding collections of trees and shrubs. Many of them were introduced by Emeritus Horticulture prof Ed Hasselkus, and are now consumer favorites like Whitespire birches, Columbus strain redbuds, and Northern Glow maple. Among the many highlights at Olbrich is the Thai Pavilion, or sala, a common structure in Thailand typically used as a shelter from rain and heat. Olbrich's structure is gorgeously ornate with teak, ceramic tile and gold leaf and is one of only four in the world located outside Thailand.

Late summer in the Midwest offers scenes and plants that differ widely from those in the Pacific Northwest and Daniel wanted to refresh his memory of what our region looks like at this season. So Mark and I chauffeured him to eight private gardens — the first two on Monday evening. It was a long day considering he'd spent the morning with Jeff Epping, Director of Horticulture at Olbrich, and the afternoon with Ed Hasselkus at the Arb. 

We were off to an early start Tuesday with six gardens on the agenda. I had to be the tough task master since we only had an hour per garden — and that included travel time. The gardens ranged from Middleton to Oregon with the majority in Madison. With the assistance of Jane LaFlash of the Wisconsin Hardy Plant Society, I lined up gardens of all sizes and types for Daniel to visit. We saw landscapes with sun and shade, ponds and prairies, chickens and bees, native plants and the latest exotic introductions.

Despite our recent high temperatures and lack of rainfall, all the gardens were looking lush and lovely. Daniel got a chance to meet the gardeners who briefed him on their highlights. Staying on schedule was not easy as all these gardens had so much to offer in both design and plants. A number of them have been open to visitors as part of Wisconsin Hardy Plant Society tours of member gardens or Olbrich's annual Home Garden Tour. 

Jane LaFlash (above right with Daniel and me) has a garden tucked behind her house on a busy thoroughfare that is so secluded it's hard to realize it's smack dab in the city. We spent lots of time looking at her Japanese maples. Jane has had great success with them compared to most of us with sad stories about our attempts to grow them. 

At the garden of Tom and Rosemary Kleinheinz, we saw a plant that Tony Avent was touting at his recent appearance at the Wisconsin Master Gardeners state conference held in Madison. Tony put "Syneilesis aconitifolia (with feathery leaves above) on his list of "100 Favorite Perennials for Wisconsin Gardeners" — and I had just planted one.

The picture above gives you a sense of what it's like to see a bunch of gardens in quick succession. Mark snapped the photo while I am on the far left taking notes, and Daniel is bemused, befuddled and trying to take notes and keep it all straight as Jane LaFlash and Tom and Rosemary Kleinheinz make sure he doesn't miss anything. A long, confusing, exhausting, memorable day!