The Catalogs are Coming
Even though it’s snowing on and off, my office looks like a garden. Yellow lilies and lavender mums still bloom in a bouquet of flowers from dearest Tom. A red and orange canna flower blazes at me from the Georgia O’Keefe wall calendar. A watercolor scroll painted by friend Sue Berge’s mother in China shows a cascade of pink peonies, while irises, magnolias and alstroemeria, and crocosmias bloom in numerous prints push-pinned to the walls. Two hummingbirds even flit amid these offerings.
Even more exciting are the arrival of this year’s enticing catalogs. For the first time ever, a full color catalog arrived from Midnight Gardens in the mail. Sixteen of Bob Anderson’s vivid new introductions jump off the page, including ‘Midnight Call Me Al,’ a butter yellow daylily with a bold black-purple eye, named in honor of Al Rogers, Bob’s mentor. I’m thrilled to see ‘Midnight Barbara Blossom’ among the bright array. An unbelievable offer is included: “Your first plant is free in 2012.” You can visit the website at www.midnight-gardens.com or call 503-889-6819.
Today my order will go out to Digging Dog Nursery in Albion, California (www.DiggingDog.com or 707-937-1130). Their selection of geums, kniphofias and sanguisorbas were irresistible so I succumbed. For years I’ve had the birchleaf spiraea on my wish list after seeing it overseas, and voilà, there it was for me to order! Reading the plant descriptions and enjoying their charming illustrations were enough to chase the winter blues away.
Each day a trip to the mailbox brings more delightful surprises. A big thank you to the wonderful growers who bring these treasures our way.
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Friday, November 11, 2011
Food Served with Love Tastes Best
I’m delighted that my story, Food Served with Love Tastes Best, has been published in the new Chicken Soup for the Soul: Food and Love.
The story commemorates my Aunt Libby, a beloved relative who embodied the joy of life. A woman ahead of her times, she had a meaningful career, never married or had children, and showered me with love and acceptance. I wish she were still alive to read the story. Her spirit is alive in my heart, and on the pages of Chicken Soup.
After reading Food Served with Love Tastes Best, one fan e-mailed “Everyone should have an Aunt Libby.” Especially when we’re young and vulnerable, a relative or friend who’s in our corner, who doesn’t have preconceived ideas of who we should become, helps us discover and honor our true nature. I will always remember Aunt Libby’s giving me permission to make mistakes—essential if we are to take risks and try new things. She said, “That’s why they make erasers!”
The story commemorates my Aunt Libby, a beloved relative who embodied the joy of life. A woman ahead of her times, she had a meaningful career, never married or had children, and showered me with love and acceptance. I wish she were still alive to read the story. Her spirit is alive in my heart, and on the pages of Chicken Soup.
After reading Food Served with Love Tastes Best, one fan e-mailed “Everyone should have an Aunt Libby.” Especially when we’re young and vulnerable, a relative or friend who’s in our corner, who doesn’t have preconceived ideas of who we should become, helps us discover and honor our true nature. I will always remember Aunt Libby’s giving me permission to make mistakes—essential if we are to take risks and try new things. She said, “That’s why they make erasers!”
Saturday, October 15, 2011
A Visit to Portland's Best Kept Secret Garden
On an overcast October morning, my friend Diane and I took a stroll through Leach Botanical Garden, guided by Head Gardener Scott Hoelscher, Executive Director David Porter, and Board President Gay Greger. The 16-acre garden is located at 6704 SE 122nd Avenue, just a little south of Foster Road.
Gravel crunched underfoot as we navigated paths winding up and down the hillsides. Shaded by the canopy of enormous conifers, unusual shrubs and lush ferns flourished in the the understory. A pool of delicate Himalayan maidenhair ferns made a big swathe of lacy green, arching like a green cascade, while a colony of robust male ferns spread spread their wide, feathery fronds.
Climbing the gentle slope, we inhaled the aroma of cotton candy wafting from a stately katsura tree in its full autumn glory, golden leaves shimmering in the misty morning air. Scott pointed out several shrubs that will bloom later on in winter, especially evergreen Mahonia confusa, with blue-green foliage and yellow flowers, and Mahonia gracilipes, with red flowers. Sweet box (Sarcococca) had already set buds for fragrant winter blossoms. An bold-leaved paper bush (Edgworthia) will bear silky buds and yellow flowers in just a few months.
We continued to a recently expanded addition to the Rock Garden, where numerous new plants were marked with white flags. A tapestry of low-growing perennials covered the more established part of the Rock Garden. A silver-leaved California fuchsia (Epilobium canum), smothered with bright orange flowers, warmed up the picture.
As in most gardens tended by passionate gardeners, change is constant. A large sweep of Aucuba had recently been recycled to make room for more interesting species Rhododendrons.
“We’re trying to get rid of over-represented plants,” Scott explained. “We’re also getting rid of all the ivy.” The original garden owners, John and Lilla Leach, had collected over thirty varieties of ivy.
We came upon colonies of broad-leaved hart’s tongue ferns growing happily in the crevices of old, moss-covered retaining walls built of recycled concrete. On the slopes, newly planted chain ferns (Woodwardia) were settling in along with tree ferns (Dicksonia).
As we descended the stairs to the riparian area, David and I talked about the continuous process of change and refinement that creative gardeners undertake. He summed it up well.
“Since the mind never rests, the garden never rests,” he said. “Our gardens never stop changing because they really are the product of our minds, which are constantly imagining and creating.”
Approaching its 30th anniversary, Leach Botanical Garden is in the midst of many creative changes. A Master Plan will address development of the Upper Garden’s landscape, where two meadows await the imagination of a design group. This past summer’s oversize tent became the venue for Leach Garden Arts, attracting many new visitors. New classes will be dreamt up, and more collaboration with local artists is in the works.
Coming soon is the fabulous Holiday Bazaar, where wreaths, swags, table centerpieces and greens will be available for modest prices. Volunteers are needed to help create these goodies, during the week after Thanksgiving. To learn more, or volunteer, contact 503-823-1671 or info@LeachGarden.org. Close to 100 volunteers help maintain this public garden, and many more are needed.
Gravel crunched underfoot as we navigated paths winding up and down the hillsides. Shaded by the canopy of enormous conifers, unusual shrubs and lush ferns flourished in the the understory. A pool of delicate Himalayan maidenhair ferns made a big swathe of lacy green, arching like a green cascade, while a colony of robust male ferns spread spread their wide, feathery fronds.
Climbing the gentle slope, we inhaled the aroma of cotton candy wafting from a stately katsura tree in its full autumn glory, golden leaves shimmering in the misty morning air. Scott pointed out several shrubs that will bloom later on in winter, especially evergreen Mahonia confusa, with blue-green foliage and yellow flowers, and Mahonia gracilipes, with red flowers. Sweet box (Sarcococca) had already set buds for fragrant winter blossoms. An bold-leaved paper bush (Edgworthia) will bear silky buds and yellow flowers in just a few months.
We continued to a recently expanded addition to the Rock Garden, where numerous new plants were marked with white flags. A tapestry of low-growing perennials covered the more established part of the Rock Garden. A silver-leaved California fuchsia (Epilobium canum), smothered with bright orange flowers, warmed up the picture.
As in most gardens tended by passionate gardeners, change is constant. A large sweep of Aucuba had recently been recycled to make room for more interesting species Rhododendrons.
“We’re trying to get rid of over-represented plants,” Scott explained. “We’re also getting rid of all the ivy.” The original garden owners, John and Lilla Leach, had collected over thirty varieties of ivy.
We came upon colonies of broad-leaved hart’s tongue ferns growing happily in the crevices of old, moss-covered retaining walls built of recycled concrete. On the slopes, newly planted chain ferns (Woodwardia) were settling in along with tree ferns (Dicksonia).
As we descended the stairs to the riparian area, David and I talked about the continuous process of change and refinement that creative gardeners undertake. He summed it up well.
“Since the mind never rests, the garden never rests,” he said. “Our gardens never stop changing because they really are the product of our minds, which are constantly imagining and creating.”
Approaching its 30th anniversary, Leach Botanical Garden is in the midst of many creative changes. A Master Plan will address development of the Upper Garden’s landscape, where two meadows await the imagination of a design group. This past summer’s oversize tent became the venue for Leach Garden Arts, attracting many new visitors. New classes will be dreamt up, and more collaboration with local artists is in the works.
Coming soon is the fabulous Holiday Bazaar, where wreaths, swags, table centerpieces and greens will be available for modest prices. Volunteers are needed to help create these goodies, during the week after Thanksgiving. To learn more, or volunteer, contact 503-823-1671 or info@LeachGarden.org. Close to 100 volunteers help maintain this public garden, and many more are needed.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
'Midnight Barbara Blossom' daylily
Bob Anderson of Midnight Gardens has given me the greatest gift: a daylily he’s named ‘Midnight Barbara Blossom!’ Here’s how Bob describes it:
“I think this flower is especially notable for the saturated red base color, metallic finish, black-red veining and chevron eye.” YES!
It all began when I visited his nursery on a sunny morning in July, with my friend Donna. This was my second year in a row to check out the beds, sparkling with pink, red, orange, yellow, purple and lavender daylilies.
Bob took us on a tour, pointing out some of the latest hybrids, like ‘Emerald Starburst,’ with green and wine flowers.
“It’s a cutting edge color,” he said. “Bigger blooms and intense colors are what people are drawn to.”
We took a close look at ‘Midnight Velvet Touch,” a rich black red, with good branching and high bud count. Then Bob showed us ‘Lemon Lollypop.’
“It’s the first daylily to bloom, and repeats, with three flushes of bloom, and good blue-green foliage,” he said. I scribbled a note to myself to buy it. A little voice inside whispered You don’t need any more daylilies. I replied, Yes I do!
While we strolled along, Bob’s friend Loraine, was steadily deadheading and weeding.
“I’m a weed killer,” she declared, demonstrating her mission with a hand-held mattock. “I help Bobby out—it’s fun to watch it all grow.” Loraine likes to be known as the “Weed Wolf.”
Now some growers are great with plants, yet shy away from people, but Bob has a wonderful way with plants and humans. So before long Donna, Bob, Loraine, and I were chatting away like old friends. That morning visit had turned into a plant lovers’ party.
At one point Bob asked me to choose a favorite seedling. As a hybridizer, he crosses many daylilies to create new cultivars, but keeps only about 20% of his seedlings, those which are clearly better than similar ones already on the market. One dark wine daylily with a spidery shape kept calling to me. A yellow throat and streaks of white along the petals in a starburst pattern made the burgundy-red pop. To me, the texture looked like satin, and the petals recurved at the edges. “That one!” I said, pointing to the dark beauty.
Pretty soon Bob got busy with other visitors. Donna and I placed our orders for daylilies, waved goodbye to Bob and Loraine, and slipped away. We would pick our plants up later in the summer when it was the right time for Bob to divide and dig the daylilies for his customers.
A week or so later I received a beautiful handwritten card from Bob in the mail, asking if he could name the burgundy daylily for me. The new plant, ‘Midnight Barbara Blossom,’ will be introduced in 2012. But Bob went even further. Last Saturday he dug divisions of the daylily for Donna and me to plant in our gardens right now! I can hardly wait until next summer to see it bloom again.
“I think this flower is especially notable for the saturated red base color, metallic finish, black-red veining and chevron eye.” YES!
It all began when I visited his nursery on a sunny morning in July, with my friend Donna. This was my second year in a row to check out the beds, sparkling with pink, red, orange, yellow, purple and lavender daylilies.
Bob took us on a tour, pointing out some of the latest hybrids, like ‘Emerald Starburst,’ with green and wine flowers.
“It’s a cutting edge color,” he said. “Bigger blooms and intense colors are what people are drawn to.”
We took a close look at ‘Midnight Velvet Touch,” a rich black red, with good branching and high bud count. Then Bob showed us ‘Lemon Lollypop.’
“It’s the first daylily to bloom, and repeats, with three flushes of bloom, and good blue-green foliage,” he said. I scribbled a note to myself to buy it. A little voice inside whispered You don’t need any more daylilies. I replied, Yes I do!
While we strolled along, Bob’s friend Loraine, was steadily deadheading and weeding.
“I’m a weed killer,” she declared, demonstrating her mission with a hand-held mattock. “I help Bobby out—it’s fun to watch it all grow.” Loraine likes to be known as the “Weed Wolf.”
Now some growers are great with plants, yet shy away from people, but Bob has a wonderful way with plants and humans. So before long Donna, Bob, Loraine, and I were chatting away like old friends. That morning visit had turned into a plant lovers’ party.
At one point Bob asked me to choose a favorite seedling. As a hybridizer, he crosses many daylilies to create new cultivars, but keeps only about 20% of his seedlings, those which are clearly better than similar ones already on the market. One dark wine daylily with a spidery shape kept calling to me. A yellow throat and streaks of white along the petals in a starburst pattern made the burgundy-red pop. To me, the texture looked like satin, and the petals recurved at the edges. “That one!” I said, pointing to the dark beauty.
Pretty soon Bob got busy with other visitors. Donna and I placed our orders for daylilies, waved goodbye to Bob and Loraine, and slipped away. We would pick our plants up later in the summer when it was the right time for Bob to divide and dig the daylilies for his customers.
A week or so later I received a beautiful handwritten card from Bob in the mail, asking if he could name the burgundy daylily for me. The new plant, ‘Midnight Barbara Blossom,’ will be introduced in 2012. But Bob went even further. Last Saturday he dug divisions of the daylily for Donna and me to plant in our gardens right now! I can hardly wait until next summer to see it bloom again.
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Two Cafes with Gardens to Enjoy
What greater pleasure than to eat in a garden on a summer afternoon or evening? Lately I’ve discovered two destinations worth traveling to. DiPrima Dolce at 1936 N. Killingsworth is open daily from 7 a.m. to 5 p.m., daily, and for dinner on Fridays and Saturdays in the summer. I’ve been there twice, once for breakfast and once for lunch. The frittatas are out of this world. Served with home made bread and well seasoned potatoes, this is a meal to savor. Eating in DiPrima Dolce’s perfectly groomed garden, surrounded by ferns, hydrangeas, flowering perennials and fragrant herbs completes the experience. What’s best is that it’s not my own garden, with deadheads crying out to be snipped and weeds hollering to be yanked. I sat there peacefully, enjoying quiet conversation with a friend, the mild air, the buzz of hummingbirds, the drone of bees, and the taste of delicious home made food.
Singer Hill Cafe at 7th and John Adams Street in Oregon City is open from 7 a.m. to 8 p.m., Tuesday through Saturday, 8 a.m. to 5 p.m. on Sunday, and 7 a.m. to 6 p.m. on Monday, with live music on Friday and Saturday evenings. The menu offers freshly made sandwiches, salads, wraps and Stumptown Coffee. On a rainy day the spacious interior is pleasant, with art on the walls. But the gardens are the highlight of a visit to Singer Hill Cafe. Inspired by vertical gardens in Madrid, the outdoor patio is an amazing sight with walls transformed into blankets of flourishing plants, and columns dripping with greenery. A tapestry of heucheras, hostas, ferns, hydrangeas, sedums and more have turned a long alley into a sumptuous garden.
Singer Hill Cafe
Thursday, August 4, 2011
Perfect Partners for Summer
Perfect Pairs
When perfectly matched plants bloom together in the garden, I feel thoroughly satisfied. Sometimes I’ve planned a winning combination, but just as often, purely by chance, a stray seedling pops up right beside the ideal partner. Either way, here are some terrific pairings for midsummer.
I’ve always adored ‘Strutter’s Ball’ daylily. The wine flowers have the texture of velvet—I would love to have a jacket just like this. ‘Xenon’ sedum, with thick, waxy leaves of an even deeper burgundy, is a great companion, and sets buds just about when the daylily finishes blooming. Soft pink flowers arrive in late summer, lasting into fall. To cap off this combination,‘‘Madame Julia Correvon’ clematis scrambles through ‘Winter Fire’ cistus, an evergreen shrub which anchors the bed. ‘Madame Julia’ is a lively red-pink, echoing the central wine blotch in the heart of the cistus flowers, as well as the daylily flowers, and the sedum foliage.
Just when everything was coming together so well, ‘Lucifer’ crocosmia seeded itself into the composition for a hideous color clash. I guess I was feeling too cocky, so this blast of in-your-face orangey-red came along to humble me. If it weren’t for the hummingbirds that sip from Lucifer’s flowers, I would yank him out. But mercifully, the hummingbirds have saved him from shovel pruning.
In another bed, even after removing every shred of ‘Lucifer’ from a bed near the side path where colonies leaned and sprawled every summer, dozens of seedlings sprouted right cross the path, defying me. At first I was plenty mad, thinking, How could they, but this morning when I spent a good five minutes watching a very happy hummingbird drink her ‘Lucifer’ lunch, I changed my mind and decided it was all for a good purpose. Sometimes it’s OK to give up control and let the plants have their way. The garden is not just about my will. Please remind me of this resolution the next time I go on a mission to hunt and destroy.
When perfectly matched plants bloom together in the garden, I feel thoroughly satisfied. Sometimes I’ve planned a winning combination, but just as often, purely by chance, a stray seedling pops up right beside the ideal partner. Either way, here are some terrific pairings for midsummer.
I’ve always adored ‘Strutter’s Ball’ daylily. The wine flowers have the texture of velvet—I would love to have a jacket just like this. ‘Xenon’ sedum, with thick, waxy leaves of an even deeper burgundy, is a great companion, and sets buds just about when the daylily finishes blooming. Soft pink flowers arrive in late summer, lasting into fall. To cap off this combination,‘‘Madame Julia Correvon’ clematis scrambles through ‘Winter Fire’ cistus, an evergreen shrub which anchors the bed. ‘Madame Julia’ is a lively red-pink, echoing the central wine blotch in the heart of the cistus flowers, as well as the daylily flowers, and the sedum foliage.
Just when everything was coming together so well, ‘Lucifer’ crocosmia seeded itself into the composition for a hideous color clash. I guess I was feeling too cocky, so this blast of in-your-face orangey-red came along to humble me. If it weren’t for the hummingbirds that sip from Lucifer’s flowers, I would yank him out. But mercifully, the hummingbirds have saved him from shovel pruning.
In another bed, even after removing every shred of ‘Lucifer’ from a bed near the side path where colonies leaned and sprawled every summer, dozens of seedlings sprouted right cross the path, defying me. At first I was plenty mad, thinking, How could they, but this morning when I spent a good five minutes watching a very happy hummingbird drink her ‘Lucifer’ lunch, I changed my mind and decided it was all for a good purpose. Sometimes it’s OK to give up control and let the plants have their way. The garden is not just about my will. Please remind me of this resolution the next time I go on a mission to hunt and destroy.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Reflections on June 4th Open Garden
My June 4th open garden for the Raleigh Park Garden Tour was full of joy. When three little girls came around the side of the garden and went "oooh!" and “ah,” my heart sang! It was wonderful to greet old friends, neighbors, make new friends. The wheelbarrows filled with souvenir plants were empty by noon, as early visitors quickly took advantage of the freebies. Later in the afternoon I dug up divisions of Phlomis and calla lilies for some admirers who had that desperate look of craving in their eyes.
For a while I sat on one of the pink chairs underneath the apple tree and watched and listened to people, soaking in their enjoyment and appreciation. Every so often someone would plop down on the other chair and we’d chat. Several friends from my Golden Gardeners group arrived, and we sat under the grape arbor, enjoying the shade. A young woman stopped to ask us how to prune clematis, and all four of us gave her more advice than she could absorb. Finally I said, “You can’t go wrong, clematis are very forgiving,” and she smiled with relief.
Opening my garden is a peak experience, starting with weeks of refining the garden in preparation—planting, editing, pruning, weeding, grooming. The day arrives faster than I can imagine, and then it’s over in a flash. Pretty soon I’m planning the next one. Stay tuned for an open garden in honor of the roses, late to bloom this year, but deserving our full admiration.
For a while I sat on one of the pink chairs underneath the apple tree and watched and listened to people, soaking in their enjoyment and appreciation. Every so often someone would plop down on the other chair and we’d chat. Several friends from my Golden Gardeners group arrived, and we sat under the grape arbor, enjoying the shade. A young woman stopped to ask us how to prune clematis, and all four of us gave her more advice than she could absorb. Finally I said, “You can’t go wrong, clematis are very forgiving,” and she smiled with relief.
Opening my garden is a peak experience, starting with weeks of refining the garden in preparation—planting, editing, pruning, weeding, grooming. The day arrives faster than I can imagine, and then it’s over in a flash. Pretty soon I’m planning the next one. Stay tuned for an open garden in honor of the roses, late to bloom this year, but deserving our full admiration.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
