Garden Bloggers Bloom Day: Getting passionate about penstemons

It's been quite a while since I participated in Garden Bloggers Bloom Day, and since I have a new plant obsession to talk about, might as well combine the two! 

It's always exciting when we as gardeners discover some aspect of gardening, or some particular type of plant, that we hadn't really gotten excited about in the past. One of those for me is the genus Penstemon. 

Formerly, this genus was in the Scrofulariaceae family, the figwort family, which includes Verbascum (mulleins), Buddleia (butterfly bush) and Diascia. But DNA typing has reclassified penstemons as well as relatives Digitalis, (foxgloves) Chelone (Turtlehead) and Veronica and Veronicastrum to the Plantaginaceae, or plantain family. Isn't that fun? 

Actual Blooms for Garden Blogger's Bloom Day! Imagine that.

It has to be spring now, because I took my studded winter tires off the car on Thursday afternoon. No more snow allowed until November, now. I mean it. It's time for spring, because look, I has blooms, serious blooms, just in time for Garden Blogger's Bloom Day. I'm so excited to be able to participate in outdoor blooms that I'm actually posting before Carol even has the link up for this month. Whoo hoo!

Okay, calming down now a little bit, but still leading off with the prize, the jewel, the most delightful beauty in the garden next to those naughty blue poppies...Helleborus 'Golden Sunrise'. Knowing our spring weather as I do, my hellebores are still protected by some evergreen limbs because of the excessive cold winds we're having, but a couple of warm days and warm rain prompted these to peek out long enough for me to snap a photo last evening just before dark.

Bursting with indoor colour for Bloom Day

I don't do a post for every Garden Bloggers Bloom Day, mostly because I don't like to follow memes every time they run. But in the bleak midwinter, we need an outburst of colour to cheer our souls, and I have to say my house is blooming happy right now. Let's lead off with those tropical-looking darlings, members of the hibiscus family. I have two young, vigourously growing plants, both of which are flowering right now. This porange (pink-orange) beauty is one of my favourite indoor plants.

Hibiscus are well suited to growing as houseplants for most of us. They like it a little warmer than some varieties, so at this time of year I move mine out of my office (the coolest room in the house, unless I run a heater) and to the sunniest, draft-free spots. They don't like soggy feet but need to be watered regularly, especially this time of year. I draw off a watering can full of water and leave it set all day before I water the hibiscus, and this keeps them from getting shock to their roots.

Some non-Christmassy Christmas blooms

Tis the season to show pretty pictures of poinsettias, Christmas cacti, and other holiday-related plants. I'm no exception, as I love all of these and have a number of them blooming their little hearts off here in the house right now. But on this sundrenched December day, I thought we'd celebrate some of the other blooms of this season. They're not necessarily Christmas plants; they're just a feast of colour for the winter-weary eyes (this, even before winter is truly here).

Leading the pack is my blue leadwort, or plumbago. This is the first time this particular plant has bloomed indoors for me, and the secret has been to put it in the kitchen window, over the sink, where I can water it the moment it gets thirsty, and where no bad kitties will try to eat it. There is something about plumbago that some of the kitties find quite irresistible, and it's not the colour of the lovely blossoms.

My gardening- and blogging buddy Joey and I share a deep and abiding love for cyclamen, for the foliage as much as for the flowers. While I never saw a cyclamen with flowers I didn't love, I bought this particular plant purely for its gorgeous, gorgous foliage. Cyclamen like a cooler temperature than many houseplants, so they do well in my office, which isn't the warmest room in the house.

Another plant that does brilliantly for me is Phalaenopsis, or moth orchids. Currently, there are five of them in bloom in my house, and the others are resting or preparing to bloom again. This is one of my favourites, because I find green flowers absolutely mesmerizing.

Yes, I know paperwhites are considered Christmas plants by many. I have several pots of them that are a long way from flowering yet, as I try to stagger their blooming as much as possible. I love the cool whiteness of their blooms, and unlike many people, I don't find the fragrance unpleasant if the container is in a large room.

Another of the phalaenopsis blooming in my office--thhis valiant plant has been in bloom for months and months, close to a year actually, and shows no sign of stopping any time soon. I must be doing something right!

Okay, I know...we're definitely into the Christmas plants category now with amaryllis. But I'm very excited about two amaryllis I got this year from GardenImport. This is 'Cupido', one of the Sonatini varieties, which are smaller-bulbed, as well as having smaller flowers and stems. I'm expecting to have blooms by tomorrow-and all of my bulbs have at least two flowering stems, which is going to make for a long, happy blooming season.

Other amaryllis such as this 'Red Lion' are also preparing to show off before Christmas for me, but they're going to be very welcome. Anything to help cheer the gardener's soul while we prepare to get ourselves through the winter months.

What non-Christmassy plants are blooming at your house? We can pretend it's Garden Bloggers Bloom Day now. Carol won't mind. Honest she won't.

Garden Bloggers Bloom Day meets Skywatch Friday

Despite the fact that I managed to think it was Wednesday when it was actually Thursday, I do know it is has been a beautiful October so far. Yesterday, however, we had the first tremour of frost here on the mountain--not enough to be a killing frost, but enough to remind the plants in our gardens of what's coming.

There is still a surprising amount of bloom happening in my garden. I decided to combine some of the blooms into collages because it's easier on my readers than putting up umpteen individual photos and making a loooonnggg post. Above, delicate blue nigella flower and foliage; the well named wallflower 'Pastel Patchwork'; Nepeta and tradescantia flowers; the still dazzling 'Sungold' buddleia.

The bees continue to be very glad about the asters and related flowers: top, 'Alma Potchske' and 'Purple Dome'; bottom, gallardia and a New England aster bathes in the sunlight.

Brilliant red cardinal flower serves up a huge punch of colour; the soft white flowers of eupatorium 'Chocolate', and the glassy berries of arrowwood viburnum 'Chicago Lustre'.

Oh, those echinaceas, rudbeckias, and more asters! A veritable rainbow: 'Secret Desire', 'Green Jewel' and 'Flamethrower' echinaceas; a bee feasting on a common rudbeckia; and the dainty flowers of aster 'Lady in Black'.

Lots of hot pink and magenta providing a little warmth against those cool mornings: a persicaria (name unknown); sedum 'October Daphne'; bee in 'Hansa' rugosa rose; a cluster of 'Martin Frobisher' Explorer roses, and one valiant annual poppy...

Now, to put the Skywatch in this post...unsettled weather in recent days has made for some spectacular skyscapes. Thunderstorms, hail, humidity, galeforce winds...such is the nature of October in the Annapolis Valley. Now, if I can just keep my days straightened out...

Skywatch Friday meets Belated Bloomday

With all the weather scudding around these days, my gaze isn't turned so often skyward as it is to the colourful flourishes in my gardens, so this Skywatch Friday is meeting up with Garden Blogger's Bloom day. I guess I'm one of the lucky ones, because as visitors to my garden have remarked in the past several weeks, "Wow! You have lots of colour happening here!"

Yes, it's true, there's still plenty in bloom here. Part of that is planning on my part, by having selected a variety of perennials that come on later in the season. Part of it is because we normally have slow, cool springs but then we have wonderful late summers and autumns. Things are slower to bloom here, and they last longer, because they're not bludgeoned by too much heat. Mind you, the coming of September normally means the coming of much wind off the water, and this September is being no exception. However, although some things get a bit battered by the winds and rains, there's still a lot of happy colour happening.

It seems there are two predominant colour groups, flower-wise, at this time of year. The first is yellow, varying from the delicate primrose colour on the waxy bells, to the more robust golds of the fall chrysanthemums. Above, clockwise from left: fall mums; waxy bells (Kirengoshoma); a variety of rudbeckias, and echinaceas, along with golden agastache and Efanthia euphorbia; 'Sungold' buddleia; yellow patrinia (Patrinia scabiosifolia); 'Herbstsonne' shining coneflower, with only Miscanthus giganteus reaching higher in the garden. Centre, the gentle yellow of Solidago 'Little Lemon', a fabulous goldenrod if there ever was one!

The other predominant colour of this season is magenta-fuchsia-pink. These are the bright eyecatchers, bee magnets all. Clockwise from top left: Chelone, turtlehead; 'Jenny' aster; the Explorer rose 'Martin Frobisher'; 'Josephine' double clematis; NOID colchicum; One of the heathers (Calluna vulgaris) just finishing its bloom; 'Purple Bush' eupatorium; Tricyrtis 'Samourai'; centre, Vernonia crinita 'Purple Bowl'.

That's not to say these are the only colours in the garden, of course; while the gentians are mostly finished with their cool-blues, there are still eryngium, echinops, and agastache with blue blooms, and there are certainly other colours happening too. Clockwise, left top: 'Pastel Patchwork' wallflower; two double echinaceas, 'Secret Passion' and 'Pink Double Delight'; 'Cloudy' aconitum; 'Coconut Lime' double echinacea; despite already having berries on the female holly, it's flowering some more; a pink potentilla shrub, which I only grow because it was a breast-cancer shrub one year and I planted it in memory of my mother in law Marilyn; one of the tall sedums, 'Frosty Morn', with its cool pink and white flowers; and the pristine, sparkling star of a white Nigella.
Some of my grasses are just coming into their own, and since their foliage is as delightful as their flowerheads, I've combined the two charms to include in one post (for Foliage Followup); Centre, Japanese Bloodgrass; top, Japanese anemone in front of Panicum 'Dallas Blues'; right centre, Pennisetum 'Fireworks' varigated purple fountain grass, NOT perennial here; Miscanthus purpurescens, purple flame grass, bottom right; bottom left, 'Malepartus' miscanthus flowers; centre left, Panicum 'Shenandoah's' foliage glows burgundy. I'll have more to say about grasses in a few days.

Thanks to all who visit, and to those who host these fun memes!

Having a Hellebore good time for Bloom Day

For a couple of years I was seriously challenged by hellebores, and unfortunately at the same time I had a deep and abiding passion for them. I don't know what it is that appeals most to me: their early rising to cheer our hearts or their complex and lovely flowers. They look somehow extremely exotic to me, and considering the fact that I have a lot of diverse, lovely and sometimes exotic 'stuff' growing in my gardens, that's quite a statement. They just fascinate me.

And they used to defeat me, because of two things: the capriciousness of our late winter/early spring weather, and the ongoing hassles with drainage. Clay has its advantages, generally being nutrient rich and holding moisture in summer, especially if you mulch it. However, it can also hold too MUCH water in winter and spring. Saturated soil is not good for many plants, including hellebores. But finally I located the best spots for them, and they're doing well, also thanks to the tutelage of Frances of Faire Garden and Barbara of Mr. McGregor's Daughter fame, who have been my hellebore mentors, so to speak.

But we're a little ahead of ourselves here, so to speak. There's actually quite a bit blooming in my garden this April Bloom Day (Thanks to Carol for hosting this longrunning meme!) Along with the usual forsythia-which still gladdens my heart even if it's common-as-dirt--we have snowdrops, and puschkinia, and glory-of-the-it-better-NOT-snow (Chionodoxa) and the first of my beloved pulmonaria (Redstart and an unnamed P. angustifolia seedling).

While the double galanthus are winding down, the single flowered forms are still going marvelously strong. And we have iris reticulata, and still have all kinds of crocus happening--some of them just coming on. That's the advantage of living where we do. Although spring comes slowly sometimes, the cooler weather also means that things last longer. Or so I console myself. (was that REALLY snow falling earlier, or just chunks of frozen clouds? Whatever they were, they didn't stay around.)

Okay, back to slobbering over hellebores. Yes, they're glorious. They're also apparently quite promiscuous once they get going, though I haven't yet detected any seedlings around mine. The first two to join our family and stay with us were 'Ivory Prince' (above) and the less showy but still wonderful H. purpurescens. There's also H. 'Red Lady', who is a little shy and slow but coming along nicely.

I have a new love now. Yes, yes, I do. Meet 'Golden Sunrise', who utterly seduced me with glowing, rich colours, and got into the back of my car before I could argue. I could sit staring at those flowers with their aurora borealis-like colours for hours. I don't think that will make them bloom longer or stronger, but I'm totally smitten.

However, there will be others coming to join the hellebore family very soon. I have four new cultivars waiting for me at my friend's nursery, including (gasp!) 'Metallic Blue Lady.' Almost as cool as a blue poppy. And the mail is bringing other surprises soon.

Obviously my Urgent Plant Seeking Madness is not going away any time soon.

Happy Bloom Day, everyone!

Garden Bloggers Bloom Day: Surprises indoors and out

Well, I don't know about you, but I'm quite pleased about this. Here I was thinking that all I'd have to offer in the way of blooms for this month's version of Garden Bloggers Bloom Day (created and still hosted by the delightful Carol of May Dreams Gardens!) would be the forsythia that I clipped last weekend, and which has obligingly popped into bloom. After all, we're still in the dreaded Farch, right?

Well, yes we ARE, but the weather seems to have gone into detente. As you saw in the previous post, we still have quite a bit of snow in some parts of the property, but otherwise, winter seems to be in retreat this week. I managed to get outside on Saturday and get quite a bit done in the places where there was no snow, before my joints screamed "Eeee-frakkin-nough!" and I had to go inside and recuperate.

This lower bed is one of my favourite parts of our garden. Not only is it a memory garden to beloved people lost to diseases, it's a pollinator garden from early spring until the last killing frost.

It's also home to the earliest bloomers in the garden. Hamamelis Diane is just stretching out her flower petals hesitantly at the moment, unconvinced that this time it's safe to do so. Under her strong, graceful limbs, Hellebore 'Ivory Prince' whispered this afternoon that it was probably safe to remove the evergreen mulch, at least for a couple of days.

This hellebore is doing very, very well thanks to the tutelage of several gardeners: Frances gave me wise tips a couple of years ago on how to cope with late winter/early spring when it comes to protecting hellebores from erratic weather. And Mr. McGregor's Daughter, (Barbara) did an excellent post on cleaning up your hellebores just the other day. I haven't taken the secateurs to mine yet, mostly because...I can't find my secateurs. Ooops. I hope they aren't in the bottom of the compost heap. I hate it when that happens.

Now, I know, I got a little excited on Friday night/Saturday morning, and told y'all about the first of the snowdrop flotilla putting in an appearance. Haven't started to count them yet, because there's still snow in part of that garden, and the other bed still has evergreen boughs over it because of my precious echinaceas and some new stuff I'm trialing. So we don't want to tickle the weather deities' feet too much. Or else I'll wake up to three feet of snow on top of everything again. And then I'll swear like a sailor. Trust me. I can do it.

But I will give you a sneak peek of what these double galanthus will look like in just a few days, if this weather continues. They are so small, yet so fragrant and so happy-making.

A further programming note; because I'm still really buried in work, I'm going to let the current 'Spotlight Saturday' blog stay as is for the rest of this week. There aren't enough hours in the day, and work takes precedence. But that's fine with me. I have snowdrops. And hellebores. And daylight savings time. It's all good, friends. It's all good.

Garden Bloggers Bloom Day: Performances and Promises

There's no shame in being slightly late. After all, on North America I'm in the next-to-latest time zone (Newfoundland is half an hour ahead of us) so it's still late afternoon on the West Coast. Okay, yes, it's tomorrow in Europe and other parts of the world, but at least I'm putting in an appearance for Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day!

There are actually quite a few things in bloom in the house, and several of the poinsettias are still here, despite my threat to put them outdoors for some air with one of their cohorts. In my office, the big bromeliad, some cyclamen, African violets and a couple of kalanchoes are providing me with cheery colour, much appreciated what with the ongoing case of grey skies we've been enduring. A couple of geraniums and amaryllis 'Sydney' are entertaining in the kitchen, while a tired abutilon and small hibiscus provide colourful flowers almost larger than their plants.

What I like as much as the actual blooms is the promise of more to come. That bromeliad I purchased a few weeks back has told me I should get another one, because its geometric flowers are just so pleasing to the eye. Amaryllis 'Pasadena' is going to open in the next couple of days, and suddenly the hyacinths have gotten the growing bit in their teeth and have surged in the past few days.

But the experience I'm most waiting for is growing on an epiphyllum or orchid cactus given to me in the fall by a friend of mine. It DID have quite a few buds until the other night when someone who shall not be named (I'm looking at YOU, Spunky Boomerang) batted at it and knocked it over, severing a few limbs and knocking several of the buds off. However, the rest of the plant is unscathed (and now securely out of reach of curious paddypaws) and the buds are swelling nicely. It's been a few years since I had an orchid cactus, so I can't wait.

Because the past several posts have been photos or very minimal, or else poking absurd fun at myself and plants, I haven't had a chance to really thank everyone who has left such nice comments and wishes on the occasion of 4 years of blogging. I know I promised some older posts and some dialogue on encouraging other bloggers, but deadlines got in the way and one must work if one wants to buy more plants come spring. Those posts will come in the days to follow, but in the meantime, thank you all again. More bouquets of lavender spread around to all.

Post written by jodi

Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day--in the bleak late autumn!

It's been months--well over a year, actually--since I participated in one of Carol's Garden Bloggers' Bloom Days, and I thought in keeping with rejuvenating myself and my blog, I'd join back in the fun, because it IS all about having fun with plants. Especially in December, where we've gone from sub-arctic temperatures to rain, fog and drizzle. Too soggy for me to venture outside but I know from being out yesterday, putting up lights, that there's nuthin' bloomin' outside, so we need to adjourn to seeking out indoor blooms.


To keep me from becoming an irritable writer and spouse, I keep fresh flowers around the house as much as possible during the dreary months of late autumn and fall. I realized yet again today, though, that one of my favourite cheer-me-up colour ranges of the spectrum, however, doesn't necessarily photograph as well as I'd like with a digital camera. The hot pinks, magentas and fuchsias of the floral spectrum tend to blow out quite a bit unless you use a filter, and I don't have one to fit the particular lens on my camera at the moment.


I have done one round of experimenting with David Perry's Mason Jar Master Class, but my wide-mouthed mason jars have a textured pattern in the glass, and aren't as tall as I'd like. That being said, I did like the light play on the paperwhite flowers that I dropped into the jar the other day for a trial run.

Before frost hit, I remembered to rescue a couple of my outdoor pelargoniums and bring them inside. This salmon-coloured one is happily adjusting to life in a not-so-sunny-but-warm kitchen, and putting up lots of new blooms.

This is one of those 'colour not done justice' photos. This fantastic pelargonium has flowers that are bicolour, red and hot fuchsia, but it's hard to see that no matter how often I experiment with photographing it.


That's okay about the colour blur, though, because the flower shape is just so striking on this one, I wouldn't really care what colour the blossoms are.


My cyclamen are still doing very nicely in the coolness of the office, although I feel the need to add a couple more colours to the collection. When I venture out tomorrow for appointments and errands, who knows what will follow me home?


The last phalaenopsis flower is still hanging on tenaciously, and I think this particular orchid is considering putting up one more shoot of buds. The other two are resting, spent after a long flowering fiesta.


My friend Neville MacKay gave me a bouquet containing these dendrobium orchids more than 6 weeks ago, and there are still three stems producing flowers. Another week or so and they'll be done, but what joy they've given me!

Meanwhile, that first Amaryllis is being coy about opening her flowers, but I find once they start to show colour, they unfurl fairly quickly. Going to watch closely for the next day or so and see what happens.

One of my favourite cut flowers are the curious Bells of Ireland, Moluccella laevis. These have been hanging out with a bundle of fuchsia dianthus for well over a week, and show no signs of really faltering. I love their somewhat-alien appearance, and find they have a faint but fresh, minty scent. The green bracts tend to dry to a tan colour, and the flowers themselves are pretty insignificant at the centre of those 'bells.'

I'm in the process of decorating our Christmas tree, but it's no wheres near finished. And I have a confession that's somewhat scandalous. I don't have a lot of Christmas ornaments that are plant-themed. I tend to collect penguins rather than plants in ornaments, but I do have half a dozen of these wonderful handmade ribbon pinecones scattered around the tree.

And for giggles, a sparkly branch of pomegranates and berries festoons a pot already occupied by two whimsical pottery mushrooms and a somewhat-chewed blue plumbago plant. Hmmm. Who might have chewed on that plant?


Surely not Spunky, here looking annoyed because I woke him up to take his photo! Well, yes, actually he is the chief plant-nibbler. Happily, he never dines on anything toxic, and he tends to look both innocent and annoyed when caught in the act. He's very tired right now, a morning's naughtiness having worn him out. So I think I'll take the hint and join him in a nap.

This concludes our Bloom day tour! Don't forget to visit around the blogosphere and see what's blooming in other gardens or homes, and thanks as always to Carol for having continued this fun monthly event for us to enjoy.

September, harbinger of autumn

Before anything else, pretty pictures or words, let me say a huge, heartfelt 'THANK YOU' to all of you who have posted get-well wishes to me in recent days. It's been a challenging summer at many levels, and I'm fed up with being sick all the time. Yet I also recognize others have it way, way worse than I do, so to paraphrase an old poem, "God forgive me when I whine...I ain't dead yet, the world is mine."


September: it was the most beautiful of words, he’d always felt,
evoking orange-flowers, swallows, and regret.
- Alexander Theroux, 1981

I read these words on a calendar or in an almanac one time, and thought about how true in some ways it is, at least in this gardener’s musings. It seems especially poignant to me this year, as we race towards the oncoming of autumn in just a few hours time.

Orange-flowers may have meant the flowers of the orange tree to M. Theroux,(I love texts that can be construed in several ways) but to me they mean orange-coloured flowers, of which there are more than a few in our garden. The last of the daylilies are winding down, after a remarkable display that has been going on for at least six weeks, but the school-bus orange of Stella d’Oro still remains. A host of Rudbeckia, Helenium and helianthus are doing their thing in riotous shades of orange around the garden, and Ligularia ‘Desdemona’ brings visitors to a complete halt, with her huge burgundy-backed leaves and very orange flowers. Even the wildflowers are into orange, with touch-me-nots (Impatiens) hanging with their little bonnet-like blossoms open for bees and any errant hummingbirds that might be around. I know I wax on and on about ice plant flowers, but they just please me so immensely, and I love the orange ones contrasted with the blue of the plumbago--a sure cheering sight on a watercolour autumn day, when rain is hinted and the sun is weary.


Swallows means several things to us. The tree and barn swallows fledged their young some time ago, and while they were here earlier in the week, I think they have departed. They brought great joy to us as we watched their aerial ballets and breakdances (the children were a bit clumsy by times.) Last year’s fledgings and flight-training was hilarious, happening on a particularly windy day. The swallowchildren would flutter around for a while, then all land in a row on the ridge of the house, where no exhortations could move them until they were ready to move. This year, flight practice days were cool and calm, and the little ones landed only to start their incessant demands for food. “Feed me!” their imperious little voices proclaimed, and the parents did.

Swallows too meant swallowing those lumps in the throat that come on wistful moments when we realize that summer is slipping through our grasp all too quickly. Wasn’t it only last week that it was April and we were grumping about the cruelest month, waiting for bulbs and lilacs and all sorts of other floral festivals? We celebrated the arrival of each and every species, from snowdrops and crocus to daffs and tulips, forsythia and lilacs and on and on. Then came the big flood of perennials and we were drenched in colour, texture, scent and sounds of our garden. Now suddenly the evenings are shortened as the sun’s journey takes less and less time with us; and even though we know we will have many golden autumn days to savour, we also feel a definite spasm of …


Regret. We berate ourselves about what we didn’t accomplish. There are too many weeds, too few flowers, too many things left to do before the closing down of summer is completed. We didn’t visit other gardens as often as we wanted to. We didn’t stop to enjoy our own often enough, perhaps. We didn’t plant that dozen new trees, build that wall, or simply wander around of an early morning with coffee cup in one hand, savouring the marvels of a perfect rose or the dance of the hummingbirds or even the lumbering bouncing flight of a pollen-and-nectar-laden bumblebee. Or maybe we did all these things, but still grieve at the passing of our favourite part of the gardening year.

Still, September and autumn come laden with gifts and hope. The clear, sunwashed days give way to crisp nights ideal for sleeping, and not so many humid-hung days when even reading causes a sweat. In our garden, at least, the floral fireworks continue almost unabated, and while there are orange-flowers galore, they are tempered by other shades, roses and purples and blues, sparkling white and fiery red and yes, the much maligned magenta so despised by some and so embraced by others. It’s true that the swallow-children and other young birds have packed up and headed out—a few hummers still around, and there will be stragglers yet. But also, we will have an abundance of birds throughout the autumn and winter to delight us and the fans of ‘Bird television’ (also known as the cat-children).


And there is planting yet to do, whether dividing perennials or tucking fall-flowering annuals into containers, or planting the hundreds of bulbs we just couldn’t resist purchasing. So I won’t throw in the trowel just yet, nor wallow in too much autumn-nostalgia. Just a little...

Is anyone else feeling that twinge of sorrow for summer's passing? Or are you ready for a break from it all?