I think there’s a whole lot of “necessary” and not a lot of “evil” (see the previous post) when it comes to seed annuals.  It’s true that they cost the moon as pushed plants in 4″ pots at garden centers but if you plant them as nature intended - as seeds, they cost beans.  Play your cards right and next year you’ll have them again absolutely free.

Those of us who allow self seeders into our gardens probably all have a love/hate relationship with them.  Gail spent most of June and early July trying to eradicate Verbena bonariensis from the gardens but we still have plenty of it.  Another year or two of diligent seedling weeding and we might be Verbena free.  Then we’ll probably miss it.  I have so much Nicotiana sylvestris and N. mutabilis in my own garden that I can’t see anything else.  I’m not sure that’s a bad thing this year but next year I might regret letting it grow wild.   We thought Julie had weeded out all of the Snow On The Mountain (Euphorbia marginata) but we have a lovely crop in just the right corner of the Cutting Garden bed.  And we always have peony flowering poppies early in the summer though we pull those seedlings out by the handful too.  The lovely thing about self sowers is that sometimes nature plants them by happy accident in exactly the perfect spot and we can edit the rest without feeling the least bit guilty.

Seed annuals are an easy-peasy way to stretch summer color to frost.  Things like Zinnias and Cosmos go from seed to bloom in about 6 weeks (direct sow in mid July for full bloom now) and the cooling temperatures of September keep the blooms from blowing out quickly.  This patch of Cosmos sulphureus (right) was sown the week of July 21st and should burst into bloom any day now.  (A little late at 7 weeks).

We saved the Cosmos seed from a batch of Polidor Mix we bought from Stokes last year.  A lot of seed catalog companies are - this is shocking to me - either owned by Monsanto or buy their seeds from producers owned by Monsanto.  They are replacing open pollinated heirlooms with hybrids (vegetable varieties especially) at an alarming rate.  In order to have the same plant next year, gardeners have to purchase the seeds all over again.  Here at Blithewold, we save the seeds that come true, allow the self sowers to work their design magic and we do still spend some beans - not the moon - on new varieties and our favorite hybrids every year.

Do you grow any annuals from seed?  How do you feel about the prolific self sowers?  Do you have favorites?  Do you save seeds?

… aren’t coming to an end just yet!  Just because school buses are stopping traffic and old fashioned fashionistas are shooting poison daggers at anyone who dares to wear white, it doesn’t mean summer is over.  Not by a long shot.  Or at least a good month on this edge of the world.

I know I’m not the only one who’s starting to lose steam and wanna-garden energy but truly it doesn’t get much better than September. The days are apple crisp, the light is in an intensely golden slant and the garden has never seemed more colorful or full of wild vibrations.  Why then is my own garden at home a good thing thing that has come to an end?  Why am I sick of it and ready for fall?

We’ve had a lot of comments in the last couple of weeks from Blithewold visitors including one from a green industry professional about how much color we still have in the gardens.  Truth is, we still have a color riot because we use plenty of annuals and tender perennials that stretch their full glory right up to a frost.  The visiting professional (for whom summer was evidently already over) referred to annuals/tender perennials as “a necessary evil”.

We have the means (a greenhouse) to take cuttings, start seeds and grow hundreds (thousands?) of plants for the gardens over the winter.  Without those plants, these gardens might look as over with as my garden at home.  The “evil” in annuals and tender perennials is that they are almost as expensive to buy (as grown plants) as any hardy perennial that might survive 10 years in your garden.  The reason to have them is that their season is now - just when the garden and we should be enjoying a second wind.  Plants like dahlias, salvias, lantanas and zinnias are really worth every $8.00 because they make such excellent technicolor companions for late blooming perennials like anenomes, caryopteris, roses, and asters.

In a way it feels like September is the moment we’ve been working towards all summer.  We still have to keep up with the watering, deadhead a little, and edit here and there but our biggest job now is to revel in the pretty of it.  I don’t want to be tired of my own garden this time next year - I want to be proud of it.  So I’m making myself a promise for next year:  I will, at the very least, throw some money in the direction of dahlias and throw some zinnia seeds in the direction boring places in my garden!

Do you get tired of your garden by this time of year or are you still madly in love with it? Do you make room in your garden and budget for annuals and tender perennials?

…Please stay tuned for even more thoughts on seed annuals and possibly Possible Propagation and if you need a hit of color and September inspiration, come on over.  Gardener’s Day is coming up September 20th - save that date and hope to see you here!

As we grow into our gardens I think we all develop trademarks - styles of gardening or a certain look in plants that is recognizable to our friends as being totally us.  To mark Julie’s next to last day as Blithewold’s Director of Horticulture, I thought I’d share some of what is “so Julie”.

Perfectly and delicately proportioned plants are what I think of as being very “Julie”.  Her favorites tend to have a balance between bloom and leaf shape and keep tidily to themselves rather than bothering the neighbors.   Perhaps because her own garden is the size of a postage stamp and everything in it is in perfect scale, she also tends to gravitate towards anything diminutive that, to me, cries out “so sweet!”.

Tried and true favorites are Tagetes tenuifolia ‘Lulu’ (Marigold) and old fashioned heliotrope (Heliotropium arborescens).

Both have nose filling scents and although they ramble a bit, they are both brittle and more likely to be smashed than to smash something else.  (”Smash” is trademark Julie!)

A few days ago I asked Julie for a few of her current faves and here they are:

She’s into the tiny leaf basils that I wrote about here and the ornamental peppers, especially ‘Candlelight’.

See what I mean about perfect proportion?

Daphne transatlantica.  I love that Julie chose this one because it is Daphne x burkwoodii ‘Carol Mackie’ that is stealing the show in the Rose Garden right now.  D. transatlantica is like the pretty girl’s quiet friend:  When you take the time to notice her you realize she’s the one in bloom.

This daphne blooms all summer without stopping and is wonderfully fragrant.

Hydrangea quercifolia ‘Snowflake’ is at the top of her charts now too (’Limelight’ will join the list when its blooms fade to pinkish in a couple of weeks).  The double blooms of ‘Snowflake’ are amazing in detail - and look exactly right with the leaf size, shape and color.

The view of the North Garden from the north porch is also a Julie favorite -

- and so is the Red-Tailed hawk that comes by to bathe in the North Garden.  It’s as if the fountain was made for him - it is perfectly proportioned!

What are your trademark favorites?  If you’re inspired to write a whole post about your - or a friend’s - signature style, please share by creating a link to this post.

À bientôt, Julie!

We’ve been getting the exclamation question “What are you going to do when Julie retires?!” since long long before Julie set an actual date. And as the date she set last year approaches, I still don’t have a good answer. For those of you who haven’t grown up knowing Julie or made Blithewold your garden away from home and aren’t yet acquainted, Julia L. Morris is our Director of Horticulture at least through Friday. She’s been at Blithewold for 30 years, knows every last plant on the grounds and in the gardens (no joke) and has taught everyone who has come within shouting distance of the property what it really means to be a Gardener.

Julie likes to tell the story about Vita Sackville-West keeping all of the tags from plants that had died because it kept her humble. I’m not sure a plant has ever died on Julie’s watch. And if anything has died, it certainly wasn’t from neglect (more likely, Kris Green Plant Slayer got too close). And yet Julie is as humble as they come. I remember once, deep within my years on the other coast, I turned on my TV and as it warmed up to the A&E channel I heard a very familiar voice talking about how Marjorie loved to ride around the grounds on her golf cart. As the picture came into view I bounced around the couch shouting “Hey, It’s really Julie! Look - there’s Blithewold!”. Julie took her interview on America’s Castles much more in stride than I did and keeps the light of her horticultural fame and expertise under a bushel. She ought to be every bit as well known as her mentor Ernesta Ballard and as familiar a name in public horticulture as Marco Polo Stufano or Bill Thomas. But she’s much happier in the potting shed than in the limelight.

It feels like there’s a general expectation that Blithewold will implode or somehow self destruct without Julie’s constant devotion and attention. I think Gail and I and maybe even Fred and Dan half expect disaster too. But Julie chose her retirement date very wisely: The end of August is the time for enjoying the story of the garden. We can do a few edits here and there but it’s pretty much ready for the publisher. — Basically as the growing season winds down, we can’t really get in too much trouble! So it’s a good season for our transition from training wheels too. Fred will shoulder Julie’s title and burden of responsibility and Gail will continue as horticulturist in charge of the gardens.

Julie has taught us and mentored by tireless example. We all know better than to let sticks pile up on Bosquet paths, walk past a dry pot without watering it, or plant cardoons in the North Garden. Gail and I will keep growing ‘Lulu’ marigolds and choosing “that’s a Julie favorite” from catalogs and nurseries. We’ll try hard to keep a few steps ahead of the garden - no matter how pretty it is at this moment - to make sure that subsequent weeks are even better. We’ll have trick questions like “Are you going to cut back the teasels today?” ringing in our heads if she hasn’t already come by to ask them. We owe it to Julie to keep Blithewold beautifully tended to her high standards and we’ll prove it to ourselves that we’re up to the job.

Julie might be retiring but she loves Blithewold too much to really leave it, thank goodness. She has promised to help Margaret in the archives and I’ll bet we’ll see her now and again every day in the gardens too. To answer the question, “What are you going to do when Julie retires?!” I can only say, we’ll do our very best.

I’ve been meaning to trumpet about our basils almost since the day we planted them. So without further ado: I love basil (Ocimum basilicum)! Lavender is still the aromatic herb I would dress myself in head to toe if I could but there’s something totally blissful about being elbow deep in basil - it’s a comfort scent that I could just eat up. How convenient then that it’s food!

And it’s not just for the herb or vegetable garden anymore. This year, thanks to Gail making excellent seed catalog choices, we have some beauties and all around winners that we think look great in the mixed garden. She chose ‘Minette‘ and ‘Marseille‘ from Park’s; ‘Boxwood‘ from Burpee; and ‘Pistou‘ and ‘Queenette‘ from Johnny’s. They all have diminutive leaves and all but ‘Queenette’ made orbtacular blobs almost immediately after planting. ‘Queenette’ distinguished itself with an immediate array of decorative purple flower spikes and a refusal to bolt. It resembles a miniature and yellow-greener version of our old standby favorite ‘African Blue’ (which always surprises visitors when they learn that it’s not some kind of Salvia.) ‘Pistou’ has been the first to show signs of exhaustion - perhaps with a set of tiny hedge shears and a flair for topiary we could have coaxed a longer at-its-best season. The bees are sure enjoying the flowers though.

I took my taste test too late in the season to tell the true tale of the flavors and not being a hardcore foodie, I probably couldn’t be very accurate in my descriptions anyway. - To me they taste a lot like … basil …! ‘Queenette’ definitely has a licorice edge though and ‘Minette’ is kinda minty. They all make the most adorable garnish but it might take a few entire plants to make enough pesto (or as the French have it, pistou) to go around. Speaking of pistou, Lyn (a Rockette) brought in a recipe for Soupe au Pistou from “Cuisine of the Sun” by Mireille Johnston. Here is a very abridged version:

1 lb. White beans

a lot of garden harvest vegetables - anything goes this time of year although tomatoes are not on Mme. Johnston’s list.

1/2 cup lean salt pork

2 quarts water

bay leaves, sage, salt ‘n’ pepper

Do your usual vegetable soup making thing and then right before you serve it, add the pesto:

3 cups fresh basil

4-6 garlic cloves

1/2 to 1 cup Swiss, Parmesan, or Romano cheese

1/2 cup olive oil

pinch of coarse salt

Voilà

But of course, nothing goes with basil like a fresh from the garden tomato. I’ll wager that in Super Stop & Shop, you will never find a tomato that would rather be a teapot.

Gardeners have all the fun! (Sorry, Julie. I know it’s rude but you can’t hand me a freak and not expect me to show it off!)

Have you grown any basils you think are spectacular to either look at or eat? Do you have any good recipes to share? Please link back if you decide to make a pesto post!

Kudos and many thanks go to all who made the Celebration of a Century Gala such a whopping success. Gala volunteers were able to raise more money for our operating budget (salaries, etc) - as well as extra for a new roof for the mansion - than any of the other wildly successful galas in previous years. That’s truly astounding especially considering our country’s current economic funk. I am constantly amazed and gratified by just how supportive Blithewold’s supporters are.

I’m also endlessly gratified by our every day visitors - we wouldn’t be in the garden (or on-line) without them either. It’s not just their praise that we live for (and if I may take a moment for horn tooting, we are told almost every day that this is the most meticulously maintained public garden they’ve seen. Many many thanks to our amazing volunteers!), but their questions definitely make the days more interesting. One of our garden docents passed along a few questions from the weekend and I hope the askers watch the blog for the answers:

Q: What kind of grapes are on the arbor?

A: They are New England’s finest - Concord - and the vine is about 100 years old.

Q: Where are the beehives?

A: It’s been a couple of years since we’ve had busy domestic honey bee hives on the property but there is a thriving wild hive in a Horse Chestnut stump just off the path between the Enclosed Garden and the Display Garden.

Q: Why do bees like the pond?

A: Bees need water for making the brood food and to regulate the temperature in the hive. They keep the hive at a steady 95 degrees Fahrenheit or so - any warmer and the wax will start to melt. Some of the worker bees are given the job of bringing water to the hive and will make upwards of 50 trips a day. They like our cement pond because it’s close to the hive, a consistent source since it never goes dry, and it has plenty of convenient landing pads.

High praise also goes to Fred and Dan for making such a fun games table in the Display Garden. Not a day goes by without a game played and yesterday Margaret (our fabulous curator and 3rd floor archivist) and her grandchildren from the U.K. came over to play a round of Giraffes. (”Giraffes” is Thomas’ name for Draughts which is English for Checkers.) Team Thomas and Margaret took gold and Sophie won the silver.

And finally, kudos and a shout out to my friend Sarah who has started a public garden at Firehouse 13 in Providence, RI and is blogging all about it. Visit Green Zone to read posts which range in topic from WWII victory gardens to container planting in shoes. (Sarah’s day job has her out and about awarding state preservation grants to places like Blithewold for projects like our greenhouse restoration in 2005. Yay, Sarah!)

It’s summertime (the living is easy) and it’s Garden Bloggers Bloom Day - those are reasons enough for me to want to eat, drink and be generally merry. But not only that, Blithewold is 100 years young this year and hundreds of people will be celebrating in high style at the “Celebration of a Century” Gala this Saturday. I wish I could work the red carpet like Joan Rivers and broadcast the best and worst dressed. Instead, I’ll present my picks for best and worst dressed in the garden:

Praying Mantis is elegantly understated - green is definitely the new black.

Frog (son of Gus-Gus) is wearing this season’s green as well as a fashion forward statement in eyewear - he’s certainly an eye catching Prince Charming! Come here, sweetie and let me kiss you…

This Orb-web spider has gone a little overboard I think - super scary and yet I can’t take my eyes off her (kind of like a Cher train wreck). What was she thinking?!

The gardens are all dressed in their mid August party finery too. Here are some belles of the Bloggers Bloom Day Gala (hosted as always by generous Carol of May Dreams Gardens):

Anybody else in a party mood? Who’s dressed up in your garden?

It was really really good to get away. It always is. It’s not that I don’t love my work — you know I do! — Rather, it’s that after a little while in the blaze of summer, gardening starts to feel like a job. Taking a break reminds me that I really need to slow down and drink it all in to thoroughly enjoy it. After all, we garden because we love to, right? Sure it’s laborious sometimes and dirty but that is all part of the fun - at least until it starts to feel like work with a capital W. Over the weekend I met a Little Compton gardener who showed me around her garden and apologized for its “messiness”. But she also explained that she’s come to be able to actually relax in her garden - her hammock might even hold her in a nap now and again. I’ve got to say that that garden was one of the prettiest “messes” I’ve seen and I really envy her “work” ethic. It’s important to keep up with the weeding but we also need to stop and smell the cardoons. (Truly! - Have you ever leaned in for a sniff? Sweet honey but mind the bees…) At home I have decided to try to enjoy my “mess” without feeling frantic and here I am smiling again even as I help Ann deadhead the stinging eryngium. Do you ever need to take a vacation from gardening?

It also takes being away from it to really see what the garden is and how it’s grown. The first thing I noticed at Blithewold was how big and beautiful everything had gotten in just one week. Just like last year, the Stapelia opened for my return!

And the rain brought a chill to the air and long sleeves out of the closet.

And the cabbages are fully cabbaged. And the sunflowers are stratospheric.

At home I noticed other things like giant weeds and a decided lack of late season color. I’m glad I was able to get away from my garden long enough to see it with fresh eyes and I’m glad that I’m relaxed enough now to think it’s a thing of beauty anyway! What do you notice about your garden after you’ve been away from it?

We can’t - or at least don’t - always live in the moment. The past is good to revisit sometimes for what it can teach us (you know what they say about hindsight and all) and it’s exciting to cast ahead to the future. Right now I’m slightly single minded about the coming week — I’ll be on vacation!! My bag is packed and I’m waiting by the car.

When I’m not busy picturing myself being supremely lazy, dozing and drooling with a book in my lap, I’m thinking about all I’m going to miss here at Blithewold. Highest on the miss-list is Lilah’s last week here. She, alas, is abandoning us for new adventures in academia. I’ve tried to help her with Worst-Case-Scenario projections - she’s oddly confident that it will all be wonderful… - and she’s taken very many unflattering pictures of me (as payback for the W.C.S’s) and some pretty ones of Gail for her bulletin board. If anyone has any sage advice for Lilah as she starts her first semester at Bard College in New York, please share! We will miss her madly and have already asked her to sign a binding contract to intern again next summer. Perhaps by then she will have changed her mind re. ornamental vegetables. College can be a mind-blowing experience after all…

I imagine that I’ll miss a lot in the gardens as well and have taken the befores pictures to compare with the afters I’m back. If I had been away this week instead I would have been so surprised by Fred and Dan’s newest structural addition in the Display Garden. Not 10 minutes after the guys finished installation, visitors were already ogling and photographing it. I haven’t asked if Fred has a name for his creation but to me it’s like looking at a hive in cross section…

And when I get back I’ll have to be at least a little more mentally prepared to acknowledge and accept Julie Morris’ (our Director of Horticulture) impending retirement. She might be ready but I’m for sure not. More on that much later.

For now, this week we are looking forward all the way to spring. It’s time to order bulbs! We cut the pictures out of the Scheepers catalog and played them like a high stakes card game. We came up with several combination selections that we think would be winning in the North Garden and many must haves for the Rose and Cutting Gardens. It will be up to Gail and Lilah to make the final cut next week. I hope they choose my North Garden “hand”! How do you play your bulb choices?

And what are you looking forward to? I’ll be looking forward to finding out when I get back! Have a great week, everyone!

… with envy! Today dawned as an envious day - the kind of day that calls out for a sit in a shady sea breeze with a fistfull of watermelon and an icy lemonade. How serendipitous then that today was the day Nick (a.k.a. Nick the Willing) opened his house and gardens to us and the volunteers. As we strolled up and down and all around Nick’s hillside on the Sakonnet River in Portsmouth, every single one of us turned shades of chartreuse. It was obvious to us all that his garden is a beautiful consuming passion and he never takes a break on his dock, in his pool or kicked back on his sun porch gazing at the river. And when he’s not in his garden he works on making the most amazing images with a ginormous large format camera and collecting art. And we were all struck by how he is completely surrounded by things to at least rest his eyes on!

I think it’s very important to have restful things for our eyes to refocus on even in the garden - most of us have lawns for that very reason. Even if we don’t give ourselves a grass nap, we can use it as an eye break. — It’s funny to me that green is the color of the envy monster because it is so gently calming and easy. Green flowers are a fun way of bringing that restful break right into the garden beds. Here are my current faves:

How do you rest your eyes in the garden? (- don’t tell me you actually let yourself nap!) And I’ve heard some say that green flowers are “weird” - what do you think? Informal poll: green flowers, are they easy-eye-rests or just plain bizarro?