Pack it up Pack it in -- Squeeze more blooms into your garden with flowering vines

Grow Up! – Blooming vines for the garden

By Amy McDowell

Heighten the drama in your garden with in-your-face blooming vines. For shady spots, plant silver lace vine or climbing hydrangea. For sun, plant clematis, wisteria or trumpet vine. If you are used to having flowers at your feet, you will soon be into flowers over your head as these climbers reach for the sky.

   Clematis is the star of the climbing show. Clematis needs full sun and a couple of annuals or perennials around the base to shade the ground around the root system. They come in all shades and combinations of red, purple, pink and white. By planting a variety, you can have blooms from May through September. Clematis does best on a wire trellis; the leaves and stems tendril around the trellis for support as they climb.

   Silver Lace Vine (Polygonum auberti) is a little-known vine that offers a gorgeous show. From a distance, it looks like a waterfall with masses of delicate draping white panicles of blooms. It will grow and bloom in shade. Silver lace vine grows quickly to 20 feet and blooms in August and September. It will climb anything except a flat vertical surface.

   Wisteria is a behemoth—no ordinary trellis or latticework will hold this woody monster. A solid arbor with 4 x 4 or 6 x 6 posts and a sturdy canopy will make a good home for wisteria. Only buy wisteria that is in bloom or has evidence of spent blooms on it. Some gardeners struggle for decades to get wisteria to bloom. If it is blooming when you buy it, you can trust it to rebloom faithfully in the garden each spring. Wisteria bloom lavender or white in May.

   Climbing Hydrangea take a season in the ground to get established before they really leap with new growth. Elegant flat white panicles of blooms appear in June and last for nearly six weeks. They have dark green glossy foliage and attractive bark during the winter months. Climbing hydrangea can grow to 60 feet and will adhere to any surface. Plant them in shade.

   Trumpet Vine (Campsis radicans) is an aggressive and rampant grower. Plant one of these and you'll forever find them running out from the base and sprouting up in the garden. Hummingbirds love their red, orange or yellow blooms. Trumpet vines prefer full sun and grow to 30 or 40 feet. They will climb anything, using their aerial roots to grasp and adhere like glue on surfaces.

Viburnums will fill the void

Garden missing something?

Fill the void with Viburnum.

By Amy McDowell

“A garden without Viburnums is akin to life without music and art,” says world-renowned woody plant expert Michael Dirr.

Vibrunums are native Iowa shrubs that have been long overlooked. They’re durable and trouble-free with foliage that varies from glossy smooth to woolly rough. Their blooms in May and June are primarily white, although some are light pink or have pink buds. Blossoms are followed by edible berries that not only help feed birds through the winter, but make tasty jellies and preserves. Fall color is primarily deep red but V. dentatum, V. opulus, V. sargentii and V. trilobum also turn yellow or orange.

Choosing Viburnums is challenging because there are 225 species and almost all have some desirable attributes. I’m showcasing a few here that make outstanding contributions to central Iowa gardens.

V. cassinoides has beautiful blooms, chameleon-like berries and glossy foliage that turns a heart-throbbing deep burgundy in the fall. Tiny pistils protruding from the center of each blossom make the white flower clusters look fuzzy. The berries begin greenish white and turn pale pink, darken until they’re red, change to blue and finally age to black. It’s not unusual to see different colored berries creating vivid contrast in the same cluster. V. cassinoides generally grows to about 6 feet tall and wide with a rare 15-foot potential.

A couple of taller Viburnums such as V. prunifolium and V. sieboldii can be pruned into shapely tree forms and used to anchor perennial gardens. V. prunifolium (nicknamed Blackhaw) flowers in late May. Berries begin pink and age to blue-black. Fall color is bronze to red, and this Viburnum grows 12 to 15 feet tall and 8 to 12 feet wide. As for V. sieboldii, the shiny dark green foliage doesn’t usually turn to anything special in the fall, but it is smothered with white flower clusters in June. The showy fruit begins rosey pink and turns to red, then black. V. sieboldii matures to about 15 to 20 feet high and 10 to 15 feet wide.

V. dilatatum is nicknamed Linden Viburnum, supposedly because the foliage resembles that of the linden tree (Tilia species), although I don’t see a striking resemblence. Broad 3- to 5-inch clusters of blooms are abundant in early June and red or yellow berries (depending on cultivar) create a dazzling fall show. The fruit is a last resort for birds, who wait to eat the shriveled berries in February and March when other food sources have been depleted. I’ve even read that the berries are fermented enough by late winter that the birds can actually become intoxicated from eating them!

Several varieties, including V. x burkwoodii, V. x carlcephalum, V. carlesii, V. ferreri, V. x juddii and V. x pragense, have fragrant flowers. In recent years, breeders have introduced white- or yellow-variegated V. lantanas and a yellow-foliaged V. opulus.

This is just a sample of the bounteous choices. If your garden is missing something, try a Viburnum to fill the void.

Scent in the garden

Fragrance in the Garden

By Amy McDowell

Gardening is a full-immersion hobby. Unlike reading or watching television, gardening tantalizes all five senses—from the soothing sight of a leaf unfurling and the sound of birds singing to the taste of tangy tomatoes and the sting of a rose thorn—our senses tingle to life when in the garden. And the fragrance! Thousands of plants scent the air, not to enchant our noses but to attract pollinators. We might as well admit it; their sex scents seduce us, as well.

If you’d like to add fragrant plants to your garden, consider the following list.

Aromatic Annuals – Garden centers offer ready-to-plant packs of these scented annuals: Alyssum, snapdragons, Nicotiana and Viola. Also look for larger pots of Heliotrope and scented geranium (Pelargonium). Sow seeds of the following annuals directly into the ground: Datura, Nasturtium, four o’clocks and sweet peas.

Tantalizing Tropicals – Expand your repertoire to include tropical plants that easily overwinter indoors. Brugmansia, Jasmine, Gardenia, Stephanotis, night-blooming Cereus and citrus plants top the list.

Perfumed Perennials – These guys will return year after year to scent your garden: Achillea, Allium, Candytuft (Iberis), Hosta, Iris, Lily of the Valley, Monarda, Peony and Scabiosa. Although butterfly bush (Buddleia) is a woody plant, it frequently dies back to the ground during our winters, so it’s a good idea to mentally place it into the perennial category.

Scented Shrubs – Lilacs come to mind first because they are blooming as I write this. I always cut stems and bring them inside in massive heavy glass vases. But the long list of fragrant shrubs offers generous choices. Consider Roses, Caryopteris, allspice (Calycanthus), Clethra, Daphne, Mock Orange (Philadelphus) and Viburnum. In addition, a couple of fragrant Forsythia varieties can kick your spring off with scent including F. geraldiana and F. ovata. For Viburnum, look for V. x burkwoodii, V. x carlcephalum, V. carlesii, V. fragrans and V. x juddii.

Fragrant Trees – Thousands of scent-free Crabapples on the market have led us to believe they are not fragrant. But look for Malus sargentii, M. coronaria, M. hupehensis and M. transitoria ‘Golden Raindrops’. Other scented trees include fringe tree (Chionanthus), snowdrop (Halesia), golden chain tree (Laburnum), Magnolia and Pine.

Voluptuous Vines – In addition to the tropical vines listed above, there are few winter-hardy vines, including climbing roses, Wisteria and honeysuckle (Lonicera).

Finally, a word of caution: not all plants are pollinated by bees, butterflies and birds. Some, like the Hawthorn tree (Crataegus crusgalli) are pollinated by flies. And what scent attracts flies? You got it—rotten meat.

It's ALIVE! Soil and Mycorrhiza

Mighty Mycorrhiza – Super soil staple or snake oil scam?

By Amy McDowell

Promises, promises. We’ve all heard advertisements making promises about some amazing new product and what it can do for our homes, our lives, our gardens. A healthy spirit of skepticism has become part of our nature.

So what is the scoop on mycorrhiza? At least 25 mycorrhiza products are available in garden centers across the U.S.—oddly named products like Myke and Myco Stim to name just a couple. What are these products, and what will they do for your garden?

Mycorrhiza is a beneficial relationship between plants and fungus. “Mycorrhiza is a natural part of the soil and a part of plant nutrient uptake,” writes Ted St. John, Ph.D. in The Instant Expert Guide to Mycorrhiza, 2000. “The fungi are the dominant soil microorganisms, and soil biology depends heavily upon the presence, density, and types of mycorrhizal fungi.”

Mycorrhizal fungi are easily destroyed when the plants are removed and the soil disturbed. “They are always missing from freshly graded sites,” St. John writes.

Adding mycorrhizal fungi spores to your soil (called inoculating) will not necessarily produce big, robust plants, as many of the products claim. Being familiar with soil biology, I was thrilled when companies began packaging micorrhizae for home gardeners. In recent years I’ve tried several of the products in my garden without noticeable results. Although there are greenhouse and field studies that show amazing differences in plant growth, I’ve learned that it’s unlikely that you would notice differences like that in a trial in your own garden.

“Plant growth response in itself is not likely to tell the story. If uninocculated plots have been kept healthy by fertilization, any mycorrhizal effects will have been masked,” St. John writes.

Realistically, you can expect inoculated plants to be stronger, better able to survive harsh weather conditions, and protected from disease. Your site will be more resistant to invasion by weeds and most important, mycorrhiza will improve soil structure.

St. John recommends looking for a “propagule” or spore count on the label so you know what you are getting for your money. Mix the micorrhiza product with seeds as you sow or apply it to all sides of the root ball as you put plants in the ground. You can sprinkle mycorrhizae over the surface of the soil or till it in, but it doesn’t begin working until it connects with live plant roots.

Although he warns gardeners to be wary of hype and exaggerated claims, St. John solidly backs mycorrhiza as beneficial for gardens. “What is very clear, from every study that has done the tests, is that inoculation is greatly superior to no inoculation,” he writes.

Hug a Tree

A Gardener’s Refuge

By Amy McDowell

“Sometimes I walk into my front yard and I can feel all my trees just vibrating love.” --Oprah Winfrey.

I was delighted to read that, for I have felt that same powerful energy emanating from trees. It’s like a buzzing in the air that you can only sense when you are alone and your soul is quiet and peaceful.

Once while I was attending a horticulture conference, a speaker told the crowd—perhaps 700 of us—to go home and hug a tree. My first reaction was a light smile, and then a lift of my eyebrows when the speaker told us he was not joking. Seriously, he said, hug a tree.

Determined but feeling bashful, I waited until the next day. Although my back yard was pretty well isolated from the neighbors, I stepped out timidly and glanced around. A gorgeous white oak was the closest. I looked up to the canopy of branches and my breathing slowed. I felt a deep, sincere reverence for all living things and the fantastic energy that connects us all.

Touching the rough bark, I wondered whether the tree sensed my presence. I know that it did. Reaching my arms around, I hugged the tree and rested the side of my face on the trunk. Tears of emotion surged suddenly and crested at the edges of my lower eyelids. I released the tree and took a step back, breathing deeply. It seemed my slow breaths drew not just oxygen, but a quiet energy into my soul.

I urge you to go outside and hug a tree. Shrug off those trivial “I feel silly” thoughts and instead think about yourself and the tree. Try to take in the reach of that tree—its branches extending into the heavens, and its roots stretching out from the trunk to a distance two and a half times the height of the canopy.

Gardening is about recognizing our alliances with all things. Abandon your fantasies of gaining control and welcome a new harmony into your garden.

Build a pondless water feature

Burbling Water in the Garden

Six simple steps to a pondless water feature

for less than $50

By Amy McDowell

Water features add motion and sound to the garden, drawing both people and wildlife. The garden pond’s wave of popularity in the past decade makes the old standby water feature—the birdbath—unexciting and stale. Birdbaths add an architectural element to the garden, but the stagnant water evaporates so quickly that it’s hard to think of them as a true water feature.

With little more effort and expanse than a birdbath, you can add a water feature with moving water and a large reservoir that won’t run dry quickly. It is a ground-level feature with water burbling over a pile of rocks. The materials cost less than $50, assembly takes just a couple of hours, and birds will love it.

Materials:

   18-inch round plastic tub

   21-inch round metal grill

   Small submersible pond or fountain pump

   2-foot rubber tubing or PVC pipe

   Safe outdoor electrical source

   2-3 dozen rocks, fist-size and smaller

Six simple steps:

1-      Dig a hole large enough to bury the plastic tub up to its rim. Set the tub inside and backfill with soil around the outside.

2-      Set the pump in the center of the tub, using rocks to keep it upright if necessary. Run the cord to a safe electrical source, but don’t plug it in yet.

3-      Connect the tubing or pipe to the pump’s discharge so it rises straight up in the center of the tub to a point several inches above the rim.

4-      Place the metal grill on top of the tub with the tubing running up through the center of the grill. Bend the bars in the center of the grill if necessary.

5-      Stack rocks on top of the grill, concealing the empty tub below, the tubing and the grill. The rocks will be higher in the center and taper off to ground level at the edges.

6-      Fill the tub with water and plug in the pump. Rearrange the rocks so the water burbles over them.

Keeping a Garden Journal

The invaluable garden journal

By Amy McDowell

My garden adventures—all of them—are documented.  Even the time I accidentally splattered myself with the slimy guts of two dozen plump four-inch tomato hornworms. Eew. Yes, it was gross.  Gardening is messy, but I learn things all the time.

I record everything in my garden journal. I now have about fifteen years’ worth of helpful and humorous lessons documented. I wrote about waiting three years for the first bloom on my fragrant bourbon rose, finding a baby deer in the woods behind my home, and the thrill of seeing a dog-tooth violet bloom for the first time. There are crazy and delightful stories like the time masses of praying mantis hatched in my car when I left two egg casings on the warm dashboard. I have a record of the time a ground squirrel nearly drowned in the whisky barrel and the time a raccoon was trapped under the heavy bowl of the large antique bird bath after he accidentally tipped it over on himself. I documented every deer sighting, hawk sighting, and screech owl.

My journals include recipes for homemade hummingbird nectar, deer repellent, insect spray, and even rooting hormone. I sketch and chronicle ideas I have tried, such as the homemade scent dispensers for fox urine to repel rabbits, and I jot down ideas that I have seen in other gardens, such as using cardboard boxes for rose cones.

The practical side of a garden journal is to record the botanical and common names of new plants I put in. I sketch where I planted them, and sometimes even document where I bought them and how much I paid. Sometimes they grow beautifully, and other times they die off. It is helpful to read through old garden journals and remember the successes and failures.

My journals are an invaluable archive of my joys and blunders in the garden. My lesson about hornworms is that when you go about ferociously plucking them from a datura and stomping them to goo with your right foot, the guts will spurt far and wide—all over your left leg. Later you will look down and wonder, “What is this green crusty stuff all over my pants? – Oh, sick!”

Hydrangeas, pink and blue

Our blushing Hydrangeas

By Amy McDowell

A Hydrangea’s color is as changeable as a chameleon. You may buy a Hydrangea with sky-blue blooms at the garden center that turns to pink in your garden. It’s a frustrating trait for gardeners intent on designing with a particular color. The Hydrangeas, though, are simply responding to their environment. A low soil pH (acidic) will turn Hydrangeas blue and a high soil pH (alkaline) will turn them pink.

Virtually all of the soils in central Iowa are alkaline. Areas where fallen oak leaves or evergreen needles collect and decay may be more neutral, but it’s unlikely that you’ll find any acidic soils with a pH lower than six in this area. And that means no blue Hydrangeas for our gardens. Plant a blue and it will convert to pink. (The whites stay white regardless of pH.)

Even if you go crazy mulching with pine needles or pouring on Miracid or Aluminum Sulfate, the plant’s response will be both mild and temporary. Not only are our soils alkaline, but our tap water is, too. A blue Hydrangea grown in a controlled environment like a pot is likely to turn pink eventually just because of the water.

So pink or white it is. At least we’ve got choices of bush, tree or climbing Hydrangeas. We can decorate our gardens with mopheads like Annabelle, lacecaps like Radiata, repeat bloomers like Endless Summer and White Moth and ornamental trees like Pee Gee and Pink Diamond. We’ve also got the white lacecap climbing Hydrangea and the deep burgundy fall color of the oakleaf Hydrangea.

Variations in bloom and foliage are ever expanding. Although its not hardy here, the new “Lady in Red” Hydrangea (zones 6-9) is red stemmed and red veined. It’s just a matter of time before hybridizers create something like that for our colder winters.

Don’t be blue when your Hydrangea blushes pink. We all must adapt to our environment.

Crabapples Add Curb Appeal

Crabapples add curb appeal to salt-box homes

By Amy McDowell

Two-story homes are immensely popular around the Des Moines metro area for one simple reason; homebuyers can get a bigger home for less money. They are much cheaper per square foot than ranch-style homes. After moving in, new homeowners struggle to landscape those boxy facades, and it’s common to see a ring of short shrubs (nearly always Spirea) around the home’s foundation. Unfortunately, that kind of landscape is out of scale with the size of the home and ends up looking chintzy. Some designers call that look “garnish around the turkey”.

A single tree in the front yard will aesthetically break up the tremendous bulk of the home and make it appear grounded. The tree’s canopy shouldn’t conceal the home in a dark leafy mass; it should be planted off center so it will not directly block the front door or any windows from the street.

Although a towering oak with rugged branches arching to shelter the roofline is the ideal tree for many reasons, oaks are slow growing and planted for future generations to enjoy. Go ahead and plant one, but you’ll also want to plant something that will grow faster. Plant an ornamental tree that will give your home curb appeal and help it blend with the landscape within a handful of years.

Crabapple trees are the best ornamental trees in Iowa. They are amazingly well adapted to our heavy clay soils and bitter cold winters. Tour the Arie den Boer Crabapple Arboretum at Water Works Park and you’ll see specimens that have survived many a flood. Trees that can survive floods are tough-tough-tough when it comes to living in clay soil. Crabapples bloom faithfully each spring in pink, white or red.

For 15 years, “Spring Snow” Crabapple was all the rage because it is fruitless. But being fruit-free isn’t all that important for the crabapple hybrids of today—they nearly all have tiny fruits that are retained long into the winter months. Mushy golf-ball-sized crabapples rotting in the grass are a thing of the past, thank goodness. New crabapple varieties are bred for rust resistance, too, so there no problems with ratty-looking foliage and late-summer leaf drop.

If your two-story home sticks awkwardly out of the landscape, plant a crabapple. They are hardy as heck, fast growing and beautiful bloomers.

Hummingbird Season

Create a hummingbird haven

By Amy McDowell

Faeries must’ve come into garden lore in part, at least, because of tiny hummingbirds and their graceful acrobatic flight. Tinkerbell’s nimble flight patterns and ability to hover must have originated with hummingbirds. Perhaps there’s even some genetic link between hummingbirds and faeries.

Attract these charming flying jewels to your garden and you will forever be enchanted.

Hummingbird Nectar Recipe

Mixing up a batch of fresh nectar is quick and simple. Stir one cup of sugar into four cups warm water. Boiling is not necessary, honestly.

Flying-saucer-shaped feeders are the best because they are the easiest to clean. The top and bottom discs snap together, and there isn’t a narrow bottleneck to scrub. Once every three to seven days, dump out the old nectar, wash the feeder with warm soapy water, and refill it with fresh nectar. The whole process takes no more than five minutes, and you’ll be rewarded for your effort with frequent visits from the tiny beauties.

Hang several feeders around your home. Male hummingbirds are territorial and will chase others away from a feeder. Although they feed throughout the day, I notice more activity in the evenings.

A blooming garden adds a buffet of natural flower nectar to the hummingbird diet. Here are lists of annuals, perennials and woody shrubs and vines that hummingbirds would love to find in your garden.

Annual hummingbird nectar plants

Four o’clock (Mirabilis), Dahlia, Gladioli, Fuschia, Impatiens, Nasturtium, Petunia, snapdragon, spider flower (Cleome), sweet William (Dianthus), Nicotiana, and Zinnias. Annual vines include morning glory (Ipomoea) and scarlet runner bean (Phaseolus coccineus).

Perennial hummingbird nectar plants

   

Monarda, bleeding heart (Dicentra), butterfly weed (Asclepias), cardinal flower (Lobelia cardinalis), ajuga, columbine (Aquilegia), coral bells (Heuchera), Delphinium, foxglove, Penstemon, garden phlox, red-hot poker (Kniphofia), salvia and hosta.

Shrubs and vines that attract hummingbirds

Trumpet vine (Campsis radicans), honeysuckle (Lonicera), azaleas, beauty bush (Kolkwitzia amabilis), butterfly bush (Buddleia davidii), coralberry (Symphoricarpos orbiculatus), lilac (Syringa), quince (Chaenomeles japonica), rose of sharon (Hibiscus syriacus) and Weigela.

Ooooh lookey there!

Focal Points in the Garden

By Amy McDowell

The idea of creating focal points in the garden troubled me for years. I just wanted a garden to goof around in. (And if it looked good, all the better to impress others.) Adding specific focal points sounded like a demanding task. I wondered who’s stuffy idea it was that a garden needs a focal point, anyway.

Then one winter, whiling away the snowy hours with a stack of garden magazines, I noticed something. In the gorgeous glossy garden photos, my eye was always drawn to the single man-made element in the shot. Whether it was a birdbath, a bench or a statue, the photo would not have had the impact if it was just a garden bursting with plants. Playing a game in my mind, I’d picture the garden without the man-made item. I realized that without the “thing,” the garden would’ve never caught my eye. At last, I was beginning to understand how important a focal point can be in a garden.

Scouting out flea markets and antique stores, I bought every cheap milk can, metal watering can and wagon wheel I could get my hands on. Around every turn along the garden path, I’d tuck something in among the flowers. Often, the perennials—iris or goat’s beard or whatever—were so huge that the milk can or wagon wheel nestled into the flowers would nearly disappear. Just enough of it would poke out to create a subtle focal point. Visitors to the garden probably never realized what it was that gave the garden a rustic charm. The man-made elements throughout completed the picture perfect garden.

Anything will work—a pot, urn, sundial, gate, arbor, birdbath, bench, statue, fountain, wagon or antique plow. They say specimen plants can be used as a focal point. Although that sugary pink weeping crabapple tree may steal the show while it’s in bloom, the garden’s focal point may shift as the crabapple blooms fade and a clump of peonies or a climbing rose nearby bursts into color. Dark burgundy foliage on a Japanese maple or a purple smoke bush or the sparkling variegation or lime green foliage of a hosta can be used as focal points. But plants used as focal points are subtle and ever changing. I’m sticking with the simple man-made stuff that adds year-round accent.

Tried and true will reward you

Old-fashioned garden plants

By Amy McDowell

“I’d like to plant some low perennials over here in the shade,” my neighbor said, “but I don’t want any hostas. They’re too old-fashioned—like something my mother and her generation would plant.” Raising my eyebrows, I stammered for a couple of minutes before regaining my composure and coming up with a list of shade perennials for her.

Trends in plant popularity are puzzling. What makes some plants “in” and others “old fashioned”? Hostas are gems in the shade garden and it’s hard to imagine casting them aside as old fashioned. There are countless plants beloved by earlier generations that deserve space in our gardens today.

Twiggy old Hydrangeas (H. arborescens or paniculata) with cantaloupe-sized clusters of blooms are robust, reliable and trouble-free. Along the shady north side of a home or underneath the dense canopy of trees, Hydrangeas bloom faithfully and sucker to form a wide mound. Newer varieties are terrific, but their ancestors shouldn’t be forgotten.

Hedgerows of bridal wreath Spirea (Spiraea x vanhoutei) still frame the back yards of homes in some historic early 1900s Des Moines neighborhoods. Draped with tiny white blooms along graceful arching stems each spring, Spirea are pest-free and easy to love. Straggly in shade but dense and showy in sun, bridal wreath Spirea is great for a privacy planting around a patio.

Just as we disregard some delightful old garden plants, we sometimes trip over our own feet in a rush to snatch up the newest garden center offering. Unproven in our climate, the newest plants on the market can lead to failure and frustration. Daphne ‘Carol Macki’ (D. x burkwoodii), a darling shrub with fragrant white blooms, raged the Des Moines market a dozen years ago. Everyone planted them, and over the winter nearly everyone lost them. Daphne’s popularity fizzled out in a few years, after local gardeners realized she was a no-go for this area.

Every season, plant breeders, growers and garden centers offer new selections. Some become raging successes and some fail. Like anything new on the market, there’s always the possibility you’re buying a lemon. The plants of yesteryear, however, are tried and true and worth consideration anew.

Spring is plant sale time

Perennials dug from another garden transplant best

By Amy McDowell

My mom and I once happened upon a garage sale with dozens of perennials displayed in a hodge-podge cluster of dirty mismatched pots. The skinny white-haired man priced the plants at $1 and $2 a pot, and I started snatching them up by the armload. When he noticed my interest, he offered us a guided tour of his garden. It was a standard quarter-acre city lot bordered by wide lush perennial beds on all sides. The flowers overflowed their boundary-line beds into a couple of island beds surrounding a concrete birdbath with flaked white paint and a work area set off by splintered railroad ties that looked like the remains of a long-abandoned sandbox.

As I oohed and aahed over his garden, he offered to dig up a division of any perennials I wanted for just $1 apiece. Suddenly I was the proverbial kid in the candy store, buzzing inside and out at the possibilities. I asked why he’d be so willing to cut pockmarks into his gorgeous garden, and he said he was being forced to sell his home. He was positive that the buyers were planning to “bulldoze the entire place.” I offered him sympathy and he shrugged, squinted his dark eyes and hurried off to gather empty pots for my selections.

It was a cool August morning, but we were just hours away from the sweltering midday summer heat. The plants were in good shape, but I wondered how they’d fare later in the day. I abandoned our plans for a full day of garage saling and went home to plant my new babies right away. Despite their midsummer transplant, every one of them thrived in my garden.

In fact, garden-dug perennials almost always fare better than the tender young perennials sold in garden centers. It’s either because they come from established plants with mature crowns or because the transplant from garden soil to garden soil is easier on them than the transplant from lightweight potting mix to garden soil.

Slip an old bed sheet into your trunk before the spring plant sale season begins, and you’ll be all set when signs start popping up along the curbs.

Oooh, climbing roses!

Climbing Roses

By Amy McDowell

You can grow spectacular climbing roses in central Iowa. Look for those labeled hardy for zones 4 or 5. Zone 3 would be even better, but climbing roses that hardy are rare. I’ll share a few of my successes and failures.

Blaze – My first climbing rose. The cane winterkill was aggravating, and I wasn’t willing to wrap them in burlap or bury them to protect them. One glorious bloom season in seven years wasn’t enough for me, so I dug it up and gave it away. Soil and mulch around the base of climbing roses just protects the lower part of the plant, so most years I’d get blooms no higher than my knees. Blaze is a red rose that grows to 10 feet with protection.

Zephirine Drouhin – My first successful climber. Three years after planting, this rose rewarded me with large deep pink blooms. When the blooms first open, the fragrance is intoxicating. This rose was on the south side of my home. I mulched the base but never protected the canes in winter. The tips of the canes would sometimes die back, and one harsh winter they died back several feet. It still came through winters much better than Blaze ever had, and I was hooked on climbing roses from then on. Zephirine Drouhin is a rampant grower to 12 feet. The canes are thornless, and it will bloom beautifully in light shade, although full sun is best.

Paul’s Himalayan Musk Rambler – I put a simple metal arbor over the walkway to my front door, and dreamed of my guests floating to the door wide-eyed with wonder at the lovely climbing rose. After poring over the catalogs, I ordered two “Pauls” for the arbor. Pleased with my decision, I curled up with a brand new catalog that had just arrived in the mail. Panic flooded through me when I read their description of Paul—it said this rose has “sharp, grabby thorns.” The visions of my guests turned gruesome and tragic. Scrambling, I decided to plant the two Pauls along the split rail fence away from any paths. They have grown 30 feet wide along the fence, with long arching canes that rarely suffer winterkill. The blooms are such a pale pink that they look white from a distance.

Jeanne LaJoie – This is the pink climber I chose for the walkway arbor, and it consistently rewards me with small perfect blooms and minimal winterkill. Jeanne is much smaller in stature than Paul, barely reaching six feet. Clematis planted on the arbor fills in where little Jeanne leaves off.

Arbor Day

Plant a tree for Arbor Day

By Amy McDowell

Each spring, Arbor Day slips by quietly without a lot of fanfare—getting none of the publicity that a holiday like Groundhog Day receives. Part of the problem is that Arbor Day varies by region; it’s scheduled to coordinate with different planting seasons in each area. In Iowa, Arbor Day is officially the last Friday in April. That’s April 27 this year. However, to further complicate things, many Iowa communities designate their own Arbor Day to coordinate with local tree planting activities. If we had a set Arbor Day printed on our calendars each year, it would be much easier to keep track and make plans to buy a tree.

If you are planning to plant a tree this year, here are three terrific trees to consider for your landscape.

American Hornbeam (Carpinus caroliniana) is sometimes called “muscle wood” because the smooth blue-gray bark resembles rippling muscles. They’ve also garnered the nickname “ironwood” because the hard wood is extremely strong. Hornbeams have dark green leaves and terrific red, orange or yellow fall color. They are adaptable to the heavy clay soil here in central Iowa, and they’ll even tolerate wet sites. Hornbeams produce tiny nutlets that birds enjoy. They grow well in full sun or heavy shade, and they have an upright rounded canopy. Hornbeams are a small shade tree, topping out at about 25 feet high and wide when full grown.

Silver Linden (Tilia tomentosa) are stunning shade trees that are even more spectacular when the wind blows. The glossy dark green leaves are silvery underneath, and the trees twinkle in the breeze. The silver in their name is both for the silver undersides of the leaves and the smooth light gray bark, which makes them beautiful year round. Silver Lindens have good yellow fall color, and are tolerant of air and salt pollution. When mature, their broad canopy can reach 60-70 feet high and 30-40 feet wide.

Kentucky Coffeetree (Gymnocladus dioicus) are gorgeous large trees that sometimes suffer a stigma because of the 8-inch-long bean pods they produce. Kentucky Coffeetrees are immense and stately when mature at 60 feet high and 40 feet wide, and raking the bean pods is no more arduous than raking leaves. The foliage is dark bluish green during the summer and yellowish in the fall. Kentucky Coffeetrees have attractive rough bark and are free of disease or insect problems.

Most people agree it’s important to help one another; to touch other people’s lives in some positive way. Planting trees is a way to help everyone and to touch the earth in a positive way.

I Love Lilies

Love those lilies

By Amy McDowell

In my new garden, I inherited a big clump of crimson Asiatic lilies. My first reaction when I saw them bloom was revulsion. I’ve always had a passion for pastels—especially pink—and the bold red annoyed me. The lilies were one of the many apparent flaws in my new garden. Now, three years later, after once offering to dig them up and give them away, I find myself looking forward to their blooms this year. In fact, I’m thinking about planting more.

The pale pastels that created a sweet and delicate woodland wonderland in my old garden just don’t cut it in this sprawling acre-and-a-half, full sun garden. I need big, bold blooms that can be seen from a great distance, and those once-rejected lilies are spectacular for that purpose.

Asiatic lilies are the earliest bloomers, making their show in late May or early June. They range from two to five feet tall, and they come in red, orange, yellow, white and every shade of pink. Asiatic lilies multiply well, forming an attractive clump.

Oriental lilies pick up when the Asiatics leave off, blooming from June through August. They range from three to six feet tall, and they come in pink, white, yellow and bicolor. The well-known ‘Stargazer’ often used in floral arrangements is an Oriental lily.

Both Asiatic and Oriental lilies make great cut flowers, but you’ve got to leave at least half of the stem and foliage standing in the garden to feed the bulb for next year’s bloom. Asiatic lilies are not fragrant, but Oriental lilies often have a spicy scent.

I plan to add both Asiatic and Oriental lilies to my garden this year, in every vibrant red and yellow I can get my hands on. There are always trumpet, Turk’s cap and orienpets to try next year. Trumpet and Turk’s cap lilies range from four to eight feet tall, and may need stakes or shelter from the wind. Orienpets are the newer crosses between Oriental and trumpet lilies, bred for more durability and a broader range of colors.

Lilies need well-drained soil and are happiest in full sun or light shade. I’ll plant mine with a little bone meal mixed into the planting hole and a little blood meal sprinkled on the surface of the soil. A decade ago, I learned the hard way that lilies are a tasty treat for critters. The day after I planted a couple of Oriental lilies in my garden, I found some little bugger had dug them up and eaten them. They are not cheap, and I was so frustrated that I’ve never planted them since. Just as it has taken several years to recognize the glorious value of red lilies in my garden, it has also taken years to let go of that initial failure and try again.

The soil -- It's ALIVE!

Small plants + live soil = big rewards

By Amy McDowell

A trend has hit the perennial garden scene with a lot of force in recent years. The idea is to focus your money and energy on amending the soil and spend less money and energy on the plants.

After two decades of installing perennial gardens, author Tracy DiSabato-Aust has shown that perennials can double or triple in size during their first season—if the soil has been amended with organic matter. She convinces clients of her Ohio design and installation firm that investing in the soil is the top priority. To offset the expense of soil amendments and site preparation, she plants 4-inch (and sometimes even bare-root) perennials. Believe it or not, her tiny perennials outperform gallon-size perennials within a single season. In following years, the plants are naturally healthier and more robust because of the live soil. Photos documenting the amazing growth are included in her book, “The Well-Tended Perennial Garden”. (Timber Press, 1998)

Live soil isn’t some mushy black matter you can buy in a bag for 99 cents. Live soil has billions of bacteria, millions of fungi, plus protozoa, paramesei and nematodes—all in a single spoonful. Organic matter is the key to live soil, because it provides food for the bacteria, fungi and microbes.

Landscape Architect Terry Guen, who coordinated the design and construction of the 25-acre Millennium Park in downtown Chicago, said they purchased live soil for the park from a site in Indiana. With guidelines for soil handling and storage, they kept it healthy and alive throughout construction. They were careful not to smother or compact it by piling it too deep or driving over it with heavy equipment. As the world’s largest millennium project, planners insisted on large plants for the site, but the care they took on buying and maintaining healthy, live soil is noteworthy.

When building a new bed in your garden, add life to your soil with organic matter. Sprinkle two pounds of bone meal per 100 square feet, then add a 4-inch layer of organic matter such as compost, sphagnum peat moss or leaf humus. Till it in as deeply as the tiller will go, rake it smooth, and you are ready to plant your little ones. Then step back and watch them leap.

Planting a rain garden

Beautiful and Beneficial Rain Gardens

By Amy McDowell

Two raindrops are floating down the river, destined to become drinking water in the next city. One has been filtered clean by soaking through a rain garden. The other is carrying traces of animal waste, pesticide and fertilizer residue from turf, and petroleum products from pavement. Which one would you rather see pulled into the water treatment plant?

Rain gardens are beautiful and simple to install. They improve water quality and provide wildlife habitat.

A rain garden is a shallow bowl-shaped flowerbed planted with deep-rooted native flowers, grasses and sedges. When it rains, runoff from hard surfaces like the roof and driveway collects in the rain garden basin. The water then percolates down through the soil, and pollutants are filtered out.

Six steps to installing a rain garden

1- Choose a low spot at least 10 feet on a downward slope away from your home.

2- Test your soil’s drainage by digging a hole 16 inches deep and 8 inches wide near the center of your new garden. Pour 8 inches of water into the hole. If the water goes down at least one inch every hour, your soil is in good shape for a rain garden.

3- Lay out a garden hose to design the shape of your bed and remove the sod.

4- Loosen up the soil eight inches deep and amend it if needed. The best soil mix for a rain garden is 50-60 percent sand, 20-30 percent topsoil, and 20-30 percent compost. That 2:1:1 ratio makes the best spongy soil for root penetration and water absorption.

5- Smooth and level the soil and spread shredded mulch over the surface.

6- Install the plants, spacing them about a foot apart. This list of rain garden plants is a good place to start for a pleasing mix of colors and textures. At least one third of your plants should be grasses and sedges. 

Rain garden plant list

Blue flag iris                 Iris virginica

Bottlebrush grass         Hystrix patula

Bottlebrush sedge        Carex comosa

Broom sedge               Carex scoparia

Canada anemone         Anemone canadensis

Cardinal flower            Lobelia cardinalis

Great spike rush           Eleocharis palustris

Marsh blazing star        Liatris spicata

Marsh marigold            Caltha palustris

Monkey flower            Mimulus ringens

Nodding onion            Allium cernuum

Spiderwort                  Tradescantia ohioensis

Swamp milkweed        Asclepias incarnata

Sweet flag                   Acorus calamus

Turtlehead                  Cheylone glabra

Virgin’s bower            Clematis virginana

Wood gray sedge        Carex grisea

Buy plants in multiples so you can plant them in drifts. A list of Iowa nurseries who sell native plants is available at http://grandprairiefriends.org/nurseriesIA.html.

It's seed startin' time!

Start yer ‘maters!

By Amy McDowell

The green flag is out, garden fans. Seed starting season is upon us here in central Iowa. At the finish line we’re not greeted by the checkered flag, but the red ripe tomato. Is your adrenaline pumping? I hope so, because you are in for another gorgeous garden season and one fantastic ride.

Gather the tools you’ll need and let’s get growing. Any clean container with drainage holes in the bottom will work. Choose a quality seed starting mix and moisten it with water until it’s spongy. Fill the containers with the mix and tap it down lightly. Now sow the seeds and sprinkle a little more seed starting mix over the top. Don’t forget to label your pots.

Cover the pots with clear plastic to keep the soil moist until the seeds germinate. After they germinate, the covers can be removed for good, but you’ll have to keep a closer eye on the soil to make sure it doesn’t get too dry.

Most seeds will germinate better if you can provide bottom heat. If you can, set your pots on the top of your warm refrigerator or some other warm spot.

As soon as the seeds sprout, move the pots to a bright window or under grow lights. Bright light is important at this stage so the plants don’t get too tall and spindly. The window location may get cooler at night, so you might need to move the plants out of the window at night and back into the bright light during the day. If you use grow lights, keep the lights suspended just above the growing plants, and use a timer so the lights are on for at least 12 hours a day.

New seedlings are tender; don’t let them get too dry or keep them too wet, because they can collapse in either extreme.

One last note and then you’re off and racing. If you have the space in your garden, think about growing a little extra for the Plant A Row for the Hungry program. Because of the recession, the demand for hunger assistance has skyrocketed in recent years, and sometimes food pantries are forced to turn people away because they don’t have enough resources to assist everyone.

The DMARC Food Pantry will take garden produce, but you’ve got to drop it off weekdays between 8 a.m. and 4:30 p.m. at 3816 36^th Street in Des Moines. Maybe you can even organize a Plant A Row group in your neighborhood or church. Whatever you do, gear up and get ready for a great season.

Direct-sow annual flowers in your garden

Flowers from Seed

By Amy McDowell

I turned my nose up at zinnias for years. I thought they looked gaudy—bright pink, orange, and red pompoms and coarse foliage dusty with mildew. One year, however, Grandpa McDowell sprinkled a package of zinnia seeds into his garden. A magnificent swarm of butterflies hovered over his garden when we visited on the Fourth of July, and that vision has forever changed my opinion of zinnias.

Raid the seed rack at your local garden center, and you can broaden the spectrum of delight in your garden. There are all kinds of annuals that are not offered in plant packs, but are simple to grow from seed. Annual flowers will not only give your perennial garden continuous color, but they can give it a full, gushing-with-blooms cottage garden look.

Flax, cosmos, and nigella (Love in a Mist) are delicate looking, and you can sprinkle the seed around your perennials to create drifts of color from one end of the bed to the other. Flax creates a wispy hint of color. Blue is the most common, but it also comes in bold yellow and pink. Cosmos blooms are a little more defined in the garden; they come in pink, red, white, and newer yellow and orange varieties. Nigella has feathery foliage and pastel blooms in blue and pink.

Datura and cleome are a couple of giant annual flowers that you can count on reseeding in your garden year after year. Datura have huge five to eight-inch trumpet blooms in white, lavender, and yellow. The standard white ones are sweet smelling, kind of like Fruit Loops. Cleome, sometimes called spider flower, comes in pink, lavender, and white.

Four O’Clocks open their blooms in the middle of the afternoon, hence their name. They come in terrific pink and yellow colors, and form a rounded, knee-high mound. They will also reseed and create large drifts in your garden if you’ll let them.

If you have a hot spot that just bakes in the sun, try poking a few nasturtium seeds into the ground. The first time I grew nasturtium, I planted them in a two-foot square patch between the garage, the driveway, and a sidewalk. It was a southern exposure that was far from the garden hose, so they got little care, but they thrived.

All of these annual flowers can be sown directly into the garden in early May. Annual flowers pollinated by bees, birds, and butterflies in the garden will often lose their boldest colors as they reseed over the years. When the colors start to look watered down, some gardeners hoe the seedlings under in the spring and plant new seed. It’s always delightful to try something new in the garden, and seeds are an inexpensive and fun way to experiment.

An African Violet Affair

African Violets

By Amy McDowell

After a couple of weeks of frantic lunacy-driven Ebay bidding, packages of African Violet leaves began arriving on my doorstep. Each leaf was packaged carefully in a plastic bag with a label bearing its name. I lined them up, each in an empty plastic 6-ounce Sunny D bottle with the violet’s name taped on the side. I filled the bottles with water and when I was finished, four dozen bottles sat under fluorescent shop lights.

In a few weeks, tiny new plants grew on each leaf and delicate white roots filled the makeshift vases. In one marathon potting session, I settled each little plant into a 4-inch plastic pot filled with lightweight, soilless potting mix. I peeled the labels from the plastic bottles and stuck them to the pots. As I struggled to find space for all of them, at last I recognized my folly.

African Violets are ideal houseplants. Thousands of varieties offer plant lovers a smorgasbord of colors, styles and sizes. They are easy to care for, thriving and blooming in ordinary household conditions. Their delicate nodding blooms arise from the fuzzy foliage before unfurling in rich purple or red or pastels of every hue.

Grow African Violets in bright light from a north- or east-facing window or under fluorescent lights. Water from the bottom by filling the saucer with water, letting the soil soak it up, and dumping out any leftover after a half an hour. Fertilize as often as you want by adding one-quarter teaspoon of 20-20-20 or 15-30-15 to a gallon of water. Mine bloom well even with infrequent fertilization.

Their fuzzy leaves protect African Violets from most insects, but foliar nematodes are a killer. The center of the plant starts to look like a tiny head of cauliflower as the newest leaves are shrunken, contorted and white. Nothing can be done to save them; throw the plant and the pot away. Be careful not to aid the spread of the nematodes by letting the plants touch. Thoroughly wash your hands and any tools, including the watering can, that have come in contact with an infected plant.

Hedges to keep the neighbors out

Thorny rugosa roses can fortify garden boundaries

By Amy McDowell

It was an otherwise quiet evening at the garden center. The after-work crowd had slowed as people headed home for dinner. The summer sun far in the western sky cast long shadows across the parking lot. I was monkeying with the bird feeder display when the bell on the door jangled, and I turned to greet a well-dressed woman in a tailored brown business suit. She approached with a frown.

“Do you sell poison ivy plants?” she asked.

“Poison ivy?” Surely I had heard her wrong. She must’ve said Boston ivy.

“Yes, poison ivy,” she said. “Can I buy poison ivy plants?”

I lifted my eyebrows and mentally reminded myself how stupid I look standing with my mouth hanging open. “Um, no, we don’t sell poison ivy,” I said, studying her brown eyes closely for signs of insanity.

“Oh.” Her shoulders fell a little. “Then how about seeds? Do you sell poison ivy seeds?”

“Uh, no.” I said, and finally caved in to my bafflement and asked why she wanted to grow poison ivy.

“It’s my neighbors,” she said. “They’re always cutting through my back yard. It’s even fenced and they climb right over!” She waved her flawless painted nails in the air and her diamond ring glittered under the fluorescent lights. “I yell at them and they act like they don’t understand English,” she said, “but I know they’d understand the international language of ITCH.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. She was not a lunatic, just bonkers and sick of being trespassed. When I couldn’t help her, she left the store exasperated.

I’ve since come up with the perfect remedy… rugosa roses. These fast-growing beauties are covered with barbaric thorns. The stiff stems are ferocious from ground to tip. Rugosas form a rounded thicket four to six feet tall and wide. Planted three or four feet apart, they make an impenetrable hedge.

Better yet, the fragrant fuschia, pink or white blooms in the summer are followed by red or orange rose hips in the fall. In Latin, ‘rugosa’ means ‘wrinkled,’ a name fitting the crinkled dark green foliage. Fall color is usually short lived and yellow, but some rugosas turn orange or red. Rugosas are among the most disease free of all roses, so they don’t need any pesticide sprays. Annual deadwood pruning in spring is the only care they require.

Rugosas prefer well-drained soil in full sun or light shade. Hardy from zones 2-7, rugosas are wintertime tough. They’ve “been seen 100 miles from the Arctic Circle in Siberia where the temperature regularly falls to –50 degrees Fahrenheit,” writes woody plantsman Michael Dirr in his Manual of Woody Landscape Plants, 1990, Stipes Publishing Co.

Because of their vigor and easy care, rugosas are used in hybridization programs for new roses.

Next time someone asks me about poison ivy to keep interlopers from the yard, I’ll be ready with a suggestion. The wicked prickly thorns of beautiful rugosa roses will keep even the most brazen intruders at bay.

Repotting Houseplants

Houseplants on the Windowsill

By Amy McDowell

Houseplant is such an ordinary name for something really wonderful. They are one of the delights that sustain my itch to garden in winter. My favorites are the philodendrons, and I have a collection of ten different kinds. There are hundreds of species of philodendrons, from tiny vines with thumbnail-size leaves to climbing monsters that can cover a home in a tropical environment.

There are two main reasons I dearly love philodendrons. I love the way the new leaves emerge and uncurl. That tender new growth reaching out reminds me of spring. And best of all, philodendrons are rarely targeted by insects. I have never had insects on my philodendrons, although some of my other houseplants get to be a mess with pests.

This is the time of year I work on repotting. With only mountains of catalogs, books, and magazines to keep me occupied, I enjoy working my hands into the potting soil.

Most houseplants are happiest when their roots are somewhat snug in their pots, but it is a good idea to slip the root ball out of the pot annually to take a look. I generally repot a plant once every three to five years.

The standard rule of thumb is to only go one pot size larger when repotting. If you transplant into a much larger pot, the plant sits in the center of all that new soil and struggles to overcome the transplant shock. The excess soil surrounding the roots holds too much moisture, and that can lead to root rot.

Many gift plants come in decorative sleeves that don’t drain. You’ve got to toss the sleeves right into the wastebasket and give your plant a pot with good drainage and a saucer underneath so you can dump out the excess water. The pot doesn’t have to be fancy—a healthy houseplant will become the focal point and a plain plastic pot will fade into the background.

Tending to houseplants is one of winter’s joys. With a little care, your windowsill garden can carry your spirit through until spring.

One born every minute

Suckering trees and shrubs

By Amy McDowell

In horticulture, there’s one born every minute. And there I was in the front yard in the chilly knee-deep February snow, pruning the suckers from around the base of my spring snow crabapple. I had read that if you prune suckers during the winter months they don’t grow back as quickly.

As the weather warmed in spring, tiny red buds emerged at the base of the trunk, and soon enough skinny suckers were growing up at the base of the tree again. Exasperated, I realized I’d been had—the only thing that had delayed the new shoots was winter.

Suckers are not all bad. Most of my favorite shrubs have a suckering habit that results in a broad mound of growth and a beautiful shape when mature. There are a great number of suckering shrubs, including lilacs (Syringa species), Hydrangeas, Spireas, pussy willow (Salix discolor), serviceberry (Amelanchier arborea) and bottlebrush buckeye (Aesculus parviflora). Many of these form dense thickets that create wonderful privacy when used as hedges. Frequently, you can dig the suckers from around the base of the original plant and use them to extend plantings around the garden.

Staghorn sumacs (Rhus typhena) ablaze in red and orange right now, and elderberry (Sambucus canadensis) sucker to form large, open colonies. Both are fairly aggressive for a small garden, but regular lawn mowing at the edge of the colony is all that’s needed to fight back their spread.

Suckers are a sign of a plant’s genetic vigor. A non-suckering shrub like purple-leaf sand cherry (Prunus cistena) can fall prey to collar rot in heavy clay soil, but if it had the ability to sucker, young new stems would keep the shrub alive as the older stems succumbed. If sand cherries suckered, it would vastly improve their durability and longevity in central Iowa landscapes.

Despite all of the great suckering plants out there, it’s still tough to come up with an advantage to the raggedy suckers at the bases of crabapple trees. Tender rabbit fodder, I guess, to slow their attacks on the tasty trunk bark.

You don't always have to plant in drifts

Rebel against the rules of gardening

By Amy McDowell

“Welcome to Plant Collectors Anonymous” announced the crinkled paper sign on the door. One edge was smudged with what looked like a dirty thumb print. A ring of beige metal folding chairs sat in the middle of the room, cold on my tush as I took a seat. Before long, the circle filled and latecomers had to dash to another room and clumsily drag in a few more chairs. The gardeners were a motley crew—young and old, tailored and frumpy. They sat and smiled awkwardly at one another, hands in their laps carefully twisted to hide the dirt that was, without exception, under their fingernails.

And the confessions began. One after another, each gardener rose and gave his or her first name, followed by that aching mantra, “and I’m a plant collector.” Oh! The shame! Would we ever conquer our collecting ways and plant properly, that is, in drifts? It was embarrassing, for sure. In our rambling plant passion we bought what we loved and we loved whatever little beauty caught our fancy on our many, many garden center junkets. Our gardens, packed with a hodgepodge of plants, wantonly violated the rules of good garden design.

It wasn’t until I heard Tony Avent speak at the Western Nursery and Landscape Association that I shook off my shame and proudly, defiantly, lifted my chin. Tony owns Plant Delights Nursery in Raleigh, NC, and confessed that he grows thousands of different plants at his home. And no two are the same. None. No plants in masses or odd-numbered drifts. Onesies everywhere. And he showed slides to prove it. Slides of a gorgeous garden.

“I admit it, I’m a plant collector,” he said. And then he said if we think plant collecting is bad, our whole value system is screwed up. “What gets people more excited than plants?” he asked. They grow bigger and more beautiful and you can divide them and share them with your friends. You can’t do that if you collect antiques, he says. Then he even trumped the old “you shouldn’t buy a plant unless you know where it’s gonna go” nag with a sharp, succinct, “What kinda crap is that?”

Aaah. Now that’s my kinda guy. Let loose the “should” and “shouldn’t” gardening rules and have fun again. Like when I was a girl of seven in my favorite Bugs Bunny jeans planting marigolds. (Before I learned that growing marigolds is taboo or amateurish or just not done.) Back to when I planted my first Clematis and delighted in every leafy tendril, every bud and, as they opened, every bloom.

Whoever made up the rules needs to learn to love gardening again. And the rest of us need to learn to follow our passion and forget the restrictive rules for gardening. I’m thrilled that I have the audacity to say this with pride: “My name is Amy, and I’m a plant collector.”

Oooh, that awful dry air in winter!

Houseplants and humidity

By Amy McDowell

When I was in charge of watering inside the dome at the Des Moines Botanical Center, I watered more than just the plants. I also soaked the concrete walls and pebbled paths. The plants, screaming for moisture, needed more than just a drink of water—they needed high humidity like the tropical rainforests of their origins.

During these cold winter months, the dry outside air is sucked into our furnaces, heated, and pumped through the heat vents throughout our homes. And just as we suffer with dehydration such as thirst, dry, itchy skin, tired, burning eyes and tender sinuses, our houseplants are suffering with dehydration that shows itself as curling leaves, dry brown leaf tips, yellow leaf margins, shriveling, wilting, bud drop and limp, weak growth.

The water that houseplants take up through their roots is used for growth, but much of the moisture is released, or transpired, through tiny holes in the stems and leaves called stomata. Winter air pumped through our furnaces is so dry that it rapidly taxes houseplants beyond their capacity. There are a number of things you can do to raise the humidity level and aid plants, and it doesn’t even require watering your walls and floors.

·        Humidifiers are the simplest and most effective method to raise humidity.

·        Group plants close together so they can benefit from each other’s transpired moisture.

·        Make pebble trays. Fill sturdy plant saucers with pebbles and water and place them around your houseplants. The pebbles create more surface area than just a dish of water so it will evaporate quickly.

·        Turn down the furnace. Plants will transpire less moisture if the furnace isn’t running as often. Also, keep plants away from heat vents and drafts.

·        If the kitchen or bathroom is bright enough, move plants there, where humidity is often higher than the rest of the house.

·        Misting plants is the least effective option. It is a short-term, temporary solution that must be repeated frequently throughout the day to even make a difference. In addition, water droplets on the leaves may lead to disease.