Each Little World

Not-so-mellow yellow

I'm in the middle of re-thinking the plantings in the traffic island which is in the center of the road directly in front of our house. We have to make a left turn to enter our drive which is just before the island; just beyond the island the road dips down. The problem is that almost every plant I've tried in this sunny site has been so wildly successful that they're obscuring the view of oncoming traffic. 

So I pulled out huge clumps of German iris (taller and more floriferous than in any other spot in the garden), Siberian iris and Nepeta 'Walker's Low.' I've replaced them with Bergenia, an unknown purple-flowered Geranium, Sempervivium 'Edge of Night,' Heuchera 'Marmalade' and a small piece of the Nepeta. I've left the lilies — test bulbs of 'Golden Tycoon' from Brent and Becky's bulbs — because you can see through the stems and they are simply too glorious to remove. 

 

 

Searching for a shed?

We couldn't resist the buildings — whether whimsical or workable — that dot the landscape at Northwind Perennial Farm which we visited in May. Reuse, recycle and re-imagine are the watchwords for the structures at the well-known Wisconsin nursery. Ranging from tiny sheds to huge barns, all are put to good use, even if it's only to provide a blank wall to decorate. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The interior of the big red barn functions as a display space, sometime classroom and shop for garden antiques and ornaments. 

 

 

 

 

No space is unused; the two pictures below were taken at the bottom of the silo attached to the barn.

 

Watermelon gets sophisticated

I have a terrible sweet tooth — except when it comes to melons. I can't eat cantaloupe or watermelon without adding salt, pepper, proscuitto, lime juice, something to cut the sweetness. You name it, I've tried it. I finally found the ultimate solution to my sweetness dilemma in Martha Stewart's book, "Healthy Quick Cook," where she douses watermelon with Campari. The bitterness of the famed Italian aperitif is the perfect complement to the sweet fruit.

 

Of course Martha — being Martha — serves her watermelon cut into squares and stacked into a sophisticated cube on a plate with the Campari on the side for dipping. We made it easy on ourselves and tossed our cubes into dessert dishes, poured the Campari over them and added an herbal garnish. It has to be one of the easiest summer desserts imaginable and is always a hit with guests. I just have to remind myself that I probably shouldn't be adding Campari when I'm eating watermelon for breakfast.

Gardening for a lifetime

When we broke ground for our current garden Mark and I were both 50 years old. We're now in year 13 of our ten-year plan. You do the math. There's the teahouse to be finished, fences as yet unbuilt (and undesigned), as well as areas still unplanted and unplanned. Suddenly we're finding garden maintenance eating up the time and energy we need to complete the framework of our garden. We've already begun to realize that we need to design and plant the unfinished areas in a way that we'll be able to care for as we age.

As a gardener, age brings wisdom, experience and big trees. It can also play havoc with your ability to haul mulch and move big boulders. We're not there yet, but we will be someday. Happily for all of us aging gardeners, Sydney Eddison has already grappled with this issue. She has a new book — ˝Gardening for a Lifetime" — filled with advice, stories, plant lists and suggestions about "how to garden wiser as you grow older." Eddison has the kind of real-life experience that comes from gardening in the same place for 48 years. And she's determined to stay, despite the death of her husband who was the heavy equipment man and did all those technical chores getting the garden ready for winter or spring.

Like Eddison's previous books, "Gardening for a Lifetime" is emminently readable and useful. Nothing is theoretical; it's all based on experience: Eddison's own or that of friends and fellow gardeners in similar situations. The book is reasonably priced ($19.95) and only a couple of hundred pages long so you can read it in an evening or two. In addition to all of Eddison's suggestions, there were two things I particularly liked about this book. I've always found Eddison to be a consumate teacher via her writing, and here she reprises her main points at the end of each chapter in a section called "Gleanings." It makes it easy to go back and quickly peruse the ideas that are most applicable to your situation.

The second thing I especially liked about the book is that there are no color pictures to distract you or make you feel inadequate. Instead the book is thoughtfully illustrated with black and white drawings to emphasize Eddison's descriptions. Since this is about editing and downsizing gardens, it seems a much more helpful approach.

GARDENING GONE WILD PHOTO

Sydney Eddison's container garden on her terrace. Notice how the garden furniture is painted to match the flower scheme; not surprising given that dealing with color in the garden was the topic of one of her prior books 

I've read (and own) most of Eddison's books. In the early 1990s she sent me a handwritten thank you note after I'd reviewed one of her books in my newspaper column. I treasure that little note because it was the first time someone recognized me as a garden writer. Through Eddison's books I was introduced to gardeners like Harold Epstein and Fred and Mary Ann McGourty — which is why you'll find their plants in my garden and their books on my shelves. Eddison also turned me into a daylily lover. Because of her and her daylily book, I became a member of the local Daylily Society, the first garden group I ever joined. And I bought daylilies from an array of regional growers, specializing in minis that surrounded my tiny brick patio. A few of those original daylilies still grow in this garden 20 years later. 

Eddison was my garden mentor in absentia. She helped me get started with her book, "A Patchwork Garden," and now she's leading the way for those of us who don't want to give up gardening — or our gardens. 

 

MICHELLE GERVAIS

One reason Sydney Eddison's garden is labor intensive: not only does she change the planting scheme and colors for her container garden each year, she also repaints the furniture. Sure, it's labor intensive but who can blame her when you look at this picture?

"GARDENING FOR A LIFETIME: HOW TO GARDEN WISER AS YOU GROW OLDER"

Here are a few tidbits from the book that caught my attention:

1. Don't make it smaller; make it simpler.
2. Maintenance is the crux of the issue.
3. Determine if you actually need help in the garden or if it's needed in other areas of your life (house cleaner?) to free you up to garden.  
4. A sunny perennial border is the most labor intensive kind of gardening. Shade requires less work, so don't complain about the trees.
5. Make lists and prioritze: a master list of everything that must be done in the garden and when. Then make daily punch lists of what you want to accomplish that day. Even if you only have 30 minutes in the garden, if you check the punch lists before you start, you'll have your gardening hit and get somethig important accomplished. 
6. Look for a garden helper at county extension classes and among university hort students. Eddison also offers advice on how to figure out how much help you may need.
7. Lawn grass is also labor intensive so consider switching from grass to a meadow. (If you live in Madison, check out Olbrich's meadow for ideas and plant lists)

 

Sydney Eddison with Phoebe

A tale of two trees: Stewartia pseudocamellia ...

As gardeners who love unusual trees, we've been aided and abetted in this passion by Olbrich Botanical Gardens who consistently offered trees and shrubs we'd never seen elsewhere at their annual sale. Many of them were part of silent auctions enabling us to purchase a few specimens at not much over the minimum bid. That's how we got Stewartia pseudocamellia (Japanese Stewartia) for only $18.00 in 2000 (about 15 Euros at today's rate of exchange). Alas these days the emphasis at the plant sale is on fancy container plantings. 

 

We'd seen the Stewartia in summer in full flower at the Boston Public Garden a few years earlier, and were thrilled to be able to add it to our garden. I have to admit that we did not site it to its best advantage visually. You can't really see the tree until fall when it turns a spectacular coral pink making its presence known. Though it's grown steadily and looks happy, it's never bloomed for us; so I've given up even looking for Stewartia flowers each summer.

 

Matt Mattus, of Growing With Plants, recently blogged about the blooms on his 15-year-old Stewartia pseudocamellia. He particularly noted that the spent flowers "tumble down to the ground at dusk."  And there they repose looking like fried eggs, according to Matt. I couldn't quite imagine it myself, but he's a consummate gardener and always knows what he's talking about.

 

A few hours after reading Matt's Stewartia post, I made an evening tour of the garden desultorily dead-heading and picking up storm-tossed twigs and branches. When I bent down to pick some up, I thought, "what are those mushy brown blobs all over the grass?" That's when I noticed a couple of "eggs," sunny-side up, and realized the Stewartia had bloomed for the first time — ever — and we'd virtually missed it. There must have been two dozen brown blossoms scattered throughout the grass and I could just barely make out a few in full flower at the top of the tree.
 

 

I brought one of the faded Stewartia blooms indoors and put it in a little dish above the kitchen sink where I knew Mark would be sure to see it when he came home from work. By then it was dark out, so he couldn't do much more than stare at the Stewartia on the sink. In the morning, he immediately grabbed a ladder and climbed up high enough to capture a flower in situ, complete with a drop of morning dew! 

 

My notes indicate Stewartia pseudocamellia is a July bloomer, but like so many plants this year, it peaked and will have finished blooming before July arrives. But now that it's finally flowered, I'll be on the lookout next year so I don't miss this display again. I will also be ready to be disappointed since Matt noted that his Stewartia did not bloom at all last year!

... and Cercis canadensis 'Forest Pansy'

Like the Stewartia, 'Forest Pansy' Redbud (Cercis canadensis 'Forest Pansy') has breath-taking fall color that goes through a lot of changes before the big heart-shaped leaves finally drop. And like the Stewartia, we were lucky to be able to find another such special tree locally in 2000. Stonewall Nursery — where we recently bought a weeping Purple Fountain Beech — had been holding 'Forest Pansy' for a landscape designer who proved to be a no-show. So we were able to buy the tree at the end of July for $59.00 (47 Euros at today's rates). It was a good size and, we thought, a good deal.

 

Alas, the next spring there was such serious die-back that we called Peter at the nursery to express our concern. Peter said not to panic and not to do anything until the Fourth of July. By that date, most of the tree had leafed out and we did some judicious pruning to deal with what turned out to actually be dead wood. The same thing happened the following year and we again applied the Fourth of July rule. Since then, the tree has been so healthy, hearty and such a fast gower that we've had to prune it annually to keep it in bounds.
 

 

And like the Stewartia, our 'Forest Pansy' Redbud has never flowered. So the lack of those tell-tale early pink flowers has never been any kind of a sign — one way or the other — for us. 'Forest Pansy' came through the record-breaking winter of 2008/09 with flying colors. Thus we didn't think anything of it when it got later and later this spring and still not sign of leaves. 

Then suddenly, there they were — sprouting out on the three major trunks. But this time it doesn't look like the Fourth of July rule is going to hold. The leaves are all low on the branches and it seems clear that major pruning — if not actutal hacking — may have to occur. We haven't concluded if the tree should stay and be given another chance or if its useful life is over. 

We've loved and admired 'Forest Pansy' for ten years which is pretty good for a $60 investment. Probably the biggest question in our minds at this point is what would we plant there in its stead. No obvious answer comes to mind so we're just quietly waiting for the Fourth to arrive and seal 'Pansy's' fate.

Cookbooks: What to keep on the kitchen counter

We're moving into the next phase of our interior remodeling project: the one where we have to move everything out of the library/media room that's being updated. It's not easy finding extra space where we can squeeze in a 7-foot-long couch or antique armoire. But it's the walls of books that present the biggest dilemma; not so much storing them as anticipating which ones we'll want at hand during the next few months.

The cookbooks are actually the sticking point. Over the last few years I've honed my collection to the essentials: the ones that I actually turn to again and again, along with a few sentimental favorites or out of print treasures. Even so, the current tally easily tops 150 books. That's way too many to fit on the kitchen counter or my bedside table during the construction process. 

Thus I decided to only keep out the books I've pulled off the shelf and used in the last few months, and the ones that I may need if we're still without bookshelves as summer turns to fall. We probably won't be throwing any fancy dinner parties during this process which helped me whittle the list down. Then again, it's summer when entertaining can move to the deck — which means I'll also want access to my four favorite tabletop/china books and two hand-written entertaining notebooks. 

Herewith is my must-have list, twice as a long as I thought it would be until I actually stood in front of the cramped shelves and had to pick and pack. 

1. Kitchen of Light: The New Scandinavian Cooking by Andreas Viestad (Wisconsin has a large Norwegian population so this book is a must with its family stories and fabulous food. Plus I interviewed the darling Andreas when he was in town years ago. )
2. Martha Stewart's Healthy Quick Cook
3. The Essential Root Vegetable Cookbook by Sally and Martin Stone (all those recipes for market produce)
4. Wisconsin Herb Cookbook by Suzanne Breckenridge and Marjorie Snyder (a summer staple)
5. The Vegetarian Epicure by Anna Thomas (her first and still the best)
6. Delia Smith's Summer Collection
7. A Well-Seasoned Appetite by Molly O'Neill (all of Molly's books are classics)
8. Pure Desserts by Alice Medrich (Alice & Kate are more for dreaming than making)
9. The Sweet Life by Kate Zucherman
10. The Barefoot Contessa: Back to Basics by Ina Garten (when in doubt, turn to Ina)
11. The Barefoot Contessa: Family Style by Ina Garten
12. The Minimalist Cooks at Home by Mark Bittman
13. A Twist of the Wrist by Nancy Silverton (creative dishes from cans, jars, and the deli)

After I took this stack of titles and re-located them from their soon-to-be-demolished bookcase, I realized I had better throw in How to Peel a Peach and Joy of Cooking in case I needed some basic info. I was feeling quite proud of my limited stack when Mark announced that he had not yet added his favorite cookbook titles and hoped I'd left enough room for him — the downside of two cooks in the family!

What's on your can't-live-without cookbook list?

Foliage Follow-up: 06.16.2010

In a year where flowers have bloomed and disappeared ahead of schedule, it's the foliage that provides the longterm color and visual appeal in the garden. The martagon lilies in the view below are certainly lovely; but the scene is just as attractive when they stop flowering. June foliage favorites follow:

 

Hosta with Autumn fern (Dryopteris erythrosora)

 

Epimedium rubrum with Heuchera 'Electra'

 

Crested fern with European ginger at the foot of an Austrian pine

 

Carex rosea (curly wood sedge) ready to be cut back so it can start again with delicate upright leaves.

 

Allium senescens 'Glaucum'

 

Gallium ordoratum starting to go to seed as well as send out new leaves

 

New growth on the purple Smokebush (Cotinus 'Royal Purple') with a Tiarella bloom peeking through

 
To see fabulous foliage in other gardens, visit Pam at Digging who hosts 'Foliage Follow-up," the day after GBBD. 

Garden Bloggers Bloom Day: 06.15.2010

A strange June Garden Bloggers Bloom Day with the roses already done and the asters looking like it's September! Still a few floral stalwarts are performing right on time and looking good. To see what's blooming in gardens around the world, visit Carol at May Dreams Gardens who hosts this monthly event!

 

Lilium martagon 'Mrs. R.O. Backhouse' (above) and 'Claude Shride' (below). The light is shining brightly on 'Claude;' usually he appears a darker and more subdued red but still lacquered.

 

Hybrid Geranium 'Philippe Vapelle'

The groundcover Geranium catabrigiense 'Biokov,' a garden workhorse.

Though the flowers look similar to 'Biokovo,' this is a miniature clump-former: Geranium dalmaticum 'Alba'

I planted this Rex Begonia 'Magma' out in the garden to replicate a foliage combo I saw in the White Flower Farm catalog. But the blooms are charming — especially since I did not expect to see any.

 

Spirea japonica 'Thumbellina' stays small and the yellow-green foliage doesn't burn in the sun, making for great contrasts with the hot pink flowers.

'Black Barlow' columbine is still putting on a decent show.

 

Tiarella 'Crow Feather'

Perennial yellow foxglove in the Birch Grove.

Digitalis purpurea with Chrysanthemum parthenium 'Aureum'

Thalictrum kiusianum (dwarf meadowrue) with white flowers opposite Corydalis lutea (yellow flowers)

Iris laevigata (water iris)

Waterlilies will provide us with most of the flowers in the garden in July.

And a newly transplanted Primula has decided it's never to late to put on a show!

Cambridge Pottery Festival

This weekend is one of our favorite June events: the annual two-day Cambridge Pottery Festival and US Pottery Games. This year's event features 44 potters from ten states selling their wares. We are pottery fanatics, so we go to see who and what's new as well as keep in touch with lots of potter friends from around the midwest. 

For families, there's an opportunity for kids to try building coil or slab pots or raising them on a wheel at the hands-on "Learning Center." The Raku workshop gives kids a chance to glaze bisque pots which are then raku-fired by the pros.

This being the Midwest, nothing happens without food; lots of grilled summer fare was being sold by the Lions Club as well as a wonderful assortment of homemade pies by a local church. We arrived at the Festival quite early but we were still too late to buy a chocolate-raspberry pie! 

When we left the festival grounds at Lake Ripley Park, we stopped at Cambridge Wood-fired Pottery where Mark Skudlarek was hosting a kiln opening and sale. Mark is the potter who's made most of the big pots we own as well as lots of our dinner plates, serving pieces and vases! 

We couldn't leave the area without a stop at Heather's Bar & Grill in Rockdale for burgers and fries, complete with a view of the stream and wetlands. It may be a small town tavern but we noted that the program of choice on the big screen was the World Cup. And when we asked for hot sauce, we were offered Siracha Hot Chili Sauce as well as the traditional Tabasco. No question the world has changed.

Which came first: the tee-shirt or the pot? 

 
 

 

Potter Stephanie O'Shaughnessy of Galena (above) and me with a pot by Daniel Toberer of Omaha (below).

 

New potters whose wares caught our eye: Mary Jo Schmidt of Minneapolis whose decoration reminded me of rosemaling; and Glen Cutcher of Cambridge, who was selling painterly plates and light as air necklaces.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Unloading the front chamber of the kiln (below) at Mark Skudlarek's Cambridge Wood-fired Pottery.

 

Mark's apprentice, Clayton, brings out work that is still hot from the kiln.

 

Mark and a customer discuss the fine points of glazes on test pots.

 

The new work is stacked on display boards.

 

The view from our seats — indoors — at Heather's in Rockdale.