a garden of miscellany

Since the heat and warmth of the weekend, the sun has become more rare than a federal Conservative politician with integrity, (and we’ll save further details on that rant for another day). It’s been rainy, drizzly, foggy, and just grey, grey grey…despite that, things are leaping ahead in the gardens, in the containers, and in the department of unloved plants (also known as weeds).


Tuesday, my mother and I went on a plant-hunting expedition. Not surprisingly, we filled the car YET again with plants, although I’m proud to announce that MUM bought way more plants than I did—that day, anyway. Our first stop was a place that is new to me, though it’s been there for 22 years. Lowland Gardens is on the way to Bass River, a few miles beyond Truro, and wow…why did it take me this long to discover this wonderful nursery?
I love nurseries that take the time to create display gardens around their properties—turns them into a destination as well as an inspiration. Lowland has a child’s play area, complete with playground equipment, and rabbits and goats to look at, plus lovely plantings, ponds and a dandy giftshop in addition to the impressive greenhouse area. Tony, the owner, took me and Mum on a bit of a tour, and it was fun to watch Mum learn about how plants are grown by nursery operators. Plus it was fun to see this owner’s innovations for potting soil,

We half-filled the trunk with wonderful plants at Lowland including the dazzling Sunningdale variegated masterwort, before sallying forth to further destinations. Masstown Market didn’t have the selection it had in previous years, which surprised me—or maybe they just had a busy weekend—but Springvale’s nursery in Bible Hill was a glorious array of plants, and Mum did her bit for the economy there too.


Next stop was the Truro Co-op, where I smelled the distinctive scent of seaweed fertilizer—someone had been tending the plants there with Seaboost, I think, which would explain why they looked so great. More plants followed us out of the centre and into the car there…
Hillendale was closed on Tuesday, but we just figured that gave us an excuse to come back another day; on we went to do some other things, including going to the cemetery in Shubenacadie to visit Dad’s gravestone, which made us both sad. The only reason cemeteries bother me is because I despise plastic flowers, and so many graves are festooned with them. Unfortunately, a lot of cemeteries won’t allow annuals or shrubs to be planted, which I think is a big loss to them.


In the Stewiake area there are several garden centres; Mum likes Miss Fancy Plants quite well, and I was just sort of following her around until I spied wallflowers. I adore wallflowers (Erysimum) and they’re hard to find! I have bright orange ones at home, and here we found not only cheerful yellow, but one of the funky new shades—Pastel Patchwork, which changes colour quite brilliantly.


There are always really interesting plants to try for the first time…like this bacopa, which is green and gold in its foliage, with the mauve flowers. The only problem with this plant? I have NO idea where I bought it!


Still on the green and gold theme, here’s one part of the front gardening, featuring yellow corydalis, green and gold Japanese Forest Grass, very green blue corydalis foliage, and pulmonaria. You can’t see the green and gold lamiastrum behind the rock, but I find it sometimes a challenge to take photos of a large area of garden and make it look terrific.


Another new heuchera threw itself at me the other day while we were out. This is Heuchera ‘Ginger Ale’. I’d never heard of it, but it caught my eye at Mum’s, and since I like ginger ale a lot…..


Finally, in the green and gold series…one of the most perfect roses that ever existed is
Father Hugo (Rosa hugonis), which covers itself in these dainty, canary yellow flowers. It blooms only once, and for a couple of weeks, but its fine ferny foliage (like a pimpernellifolia) looks great all year long, and the plant is very hardy and vigourous. Perfect rose, indeed.

The only good thing about four days of grey weather--I'm getting my deadline work all caught up, so that I'll be able to spend more time in the garden in coming days--when the sun remembers to visit again.

In Memory Yet Green...again

Two years today since my father won his fight with Alzheimers. I remember my mother saying to me a year or so back that he had lost his fight—and I corrected her to say that he won it by being free of it. So I’m pensive today, but I hear my father’s wise, funny voice whenever I’m out in the garden. I’ve written about him before, of course, and so much of the memory garden is due to him. Dad is one reason for the lacy froth of Myosotis everywhere, in blue, white and pink. And for why I plant mint in containers, always!

Still on the subject of lost loved ones, my former mother-in-law’s birthday is only a few days away, and her Butterfly memory gardening is doing well. I realized, too, the other day, that the edging done by my darling longsuffering spouse has shaped the bed to be quite like a butterfly itself. It wasn’t intentional on his part, but we both agree that it’s neat that it worked out that way.


It’s a rainy though warmly humid day today, with abrupt drownpours that come and go quickly, washing down the dust and perking up everything nicely. The planting and replanting I did yesterday looks pretty happy as a result; I tackled one of the front beds, moving short plants forward into the new area gained by LSS’s edging an extra foot out of the grass (yippee!), and adding new plants. The Fireball hybrid rhododendron that threw itself at me at Gerry’s Nursery in Centreville on Saturday has been happily installed, and it works well near an offspring of The Bleeding Heart That Ate Scott’s Bay (the biggest old-fashioned bleeding heart in the province, I reckon!)


In a different but equally happy orange theme, here’s another ‘common’ but delightful plant: the orange flowered globeflower. These blossoms are larger than the yellow ones, and I have another cultivar that has huge orange stamens in the middle. Delightful plants, always well-behaved.


The cheerful little English violet Viola cornuta ‘Etain’ caught my eye at Spencer’s nursery in Shelburne a few weeks back, and I brought home two—only one of which survived to be planted out. Not because of the nursery—Spencer’s is an awesome place to visit—but because (ahem) the gardener kept the plants in the house for a few weeks before deciding where to put them—and one was within reach of the always hungry and vegetarian-inclined Simon Q, who munched the plant down to a nub. Fortunately, the other plant has established nicely, and while I don’t expect to have viable seed—or to produce plants that look the same as this one if the seed IS viable—I’ll have to do something to make sure I have these again. They look especially nice juxtaposed with the deep purple Johnny-jump-ups I have everywhere.


We all have plants that we especially love, and one of my favourite families is phlox; especially those with fragrance. This is Phlox divaricata ‘Chattahoochee’ and it has a lovely scent. I haven’t planted it yet (I got three of them to mass together at Gerry’s Nursery in Centreville, if you’re wondering) but it will be somewhere near the walkway or the deck so we can sit and smell them and be happy.


Although most of today’s photos feature flowers, I had to include this shot of two of my favourite plants: barberry ‘Rosy Glow’ and Hosta ‘Sagae’. ‘Sagae’ is one of the big hostas, and while mine is only a couple of years old, it’s got a pretty impressive growth on it already. Because these photos are small, you can’t see the colour echoing going on; there’s a creamy yellow-white columbine in the background, and also the deep chocolatey colours of Geranium phaeum. A purely accidental colour grouping and echo, but it tickled me when I noticed it.


And I leave you with a definitely non-floral photo. My longsuffering spouse is quite a handy guy, and one thing he is very talented at is fixing up fiberglass fishing boats. This Cape Islander isn’t very big, but she's going to be beautiful when he’s finished—and of course his labours will be helped along with the always-helpful Rowdycat, who LOVES to help ‘Daddy’ when he’s working on a boat. This is the fourth one in our yard that Rowdy has claimed for his own. I don’t know that he’d be a good seafaring cat, but he’s a good yard sailor, at least.

Life on the funny farm

Suddenly it’s nearly Sunday again, and where has the time gone? Well…digging in the dirt is always a way to spend a lot of time around here. Actually, it’s been a case of digging up weeds, digging up perennials and dividing them, digging up manure and adding it to the big bed out back that acts like a swamp, and then adding more soil on top of the manure and rotted straw to create something resembling real soil. Well, it’ll be real soil in a few months; the bed I created this way last year is now soft, friable and delicious looking, although I haven’t sampled it other than in getting it under my nails, ground into my feet, and so on.

It will surprise no one who knows me to find that I’ve been out planthunting again. Yesterday I collected some astilbes and hostas from some people I know in a small community near ours. They have a majorly impressive daylily collection—when I asked Doreen how many they have, she sheepishly confessed, “I don’t know!” Mind you, they just put in some new ones so that may be why they don’t have their count up to date. They also have irises, and while I don’t know if I got this one from them or not, it’s a charmer—a little dwarf that is just too lovely. Pity they flower for such a short time.


To add to the wine and chocolate garden, I had to have this Chardonay Pearls Deutzia. I wish the flowers wouldn’t open—the pearly buds are so charming—but I love the colour of the plant most of all, of course.


In the shade garden, things are still doing well, including the always delightful Virginia bluebells.Mine are young, as I’ve inadvertently dug them up in the past, mistaking them for something else. But this year they’re well labeled and I put two plants close together to start a clump. If they spread—brilliant. Go for it!


I’m not a primrose expert—I’m not an expert on any plant, just a general plant nut—but when I spied this orchid primrose at a nursery, I had to have it. Immediately. And others who saw it as I drove it around with me needed to have one too. I bet the nursery has sold out of them. Wonderful plants! This is my first primrose of this sort, and it’s in the shade garden which stays moist as well as shaded. People are often amazed that under spruce trees could be moist. That’s the benefit of living on clay with springs running through the land, I guess. Astilbes and ferns do well in that bed too.


One of my goals in the past couple of days has been to catch a few of the hummingbirds when they’re swarming. After many attempts, I think we did pretty well with this one, though I have another photo (not as good) with seven in the picture!


Not surprisingly, I’m incredibly sore and tired tonight, but in a blissful sort of way. Because after supper, I initially thought I’d go back to the gardens, but then the big brown eyes of one of my favourite beings (next to my spouse and the cat children, of course, caught my attention:

This is Leggo my Eggo, my Morgan horse. I refer to him as my thousand pound child. He’s a big boy, and a brave, energetic fellow who will go anywhere I ask. Sometimes, he bounces a bit like a dressage horse, doing airs above the ground when we haven’t been out for a while. But he’s a darling. There’s a saying that goes something like the outside of a horse is good for the inside of a human. Three hours on Leggo, up in the woods looking at spring wildflowers, and I’m tired but sore.


And the bad catchildren--four of them, Spunky, Mungus, Simon Q and can you see Toby's eyes? What are they looking at?



Oh. That explains it. Fortunately, they're on the inside, and Mr. Squirrel is on the outside. We don't usually have squirrels up here--they stay in the woods, avoiding the three senior cats that do go outside. Tigger, the oldest of the herd, actually got spry and chased the squirrel last week for about fifty feet before he decided a nap was a better idea.
Tonight, most of the catchildren are in the office with me--hanging out in the windows, listening to the Junebugs glunking and buzzing, and whirring their way up the window screens. Thankfully, the Junebugs are outside, not in...occasionally one gets indoors and it's quite hilarious watching the cats chasing it. Til they catch, eat and recycle it, of course.

More plants next time...but I think it's time for a snooze now. Good night all, and good gardening from beautiful Scotts Bay, Nova Scotia.

The Gold (berg) variations, or mellow with yellow

Not surprisingly, when I went to Bridgetown yesterday to give a talk, I had to stop at a variety of nurseries yet again. I’ve not yet written down the names of ALL the plants but I will tell you that another Green Envy Echinacea pleaded to come with me…and a Pink Spike cimicifuga did the same thing. As did a Deutzia Chardonay Pearls…with lovely gold-green foliage and pearly white buds. The back seat was mostly full, as the trunk was occupied by assorted electronic equipment. (Thank goodness, says my longsuffering spouse, amazed and bemused at all the plants…

This morning I was writing away at my desk and watching a hummingbird flit around the feeder outside my window. With her were a few goldfinches, and out beyond I could see the flowers of Lamiastrum, or yellow archangel. It happened I was playing one of my most favourite pieces of music at the time (on iTunes, not an instrument) Bach’s Goldberg variations, performed on the piano by the inimitable Glenn Gould. Surely this is one of the most perfect pieces of music ever…

...Though the twittering of goldfinches and the zooming of hummers is pretty fine too.
On a whim I went out and walked around to see what has popped into bloom since yesterday. Over the next several months, this will be a regular event, usually twice daily, as we walk around and savour the joy of green growing things flourishing and pollinating and just giving hope to our world.

If I have a favourite colour in the garden, it’s probably blue—but yellow and gold make me instantly happy. Sunlight made flesh, yellow flowers are, and the perfect anodyne to a foggy day on the mountain. Here’s a look at what’s flowering at our garden (now, hum along with Variation one…Dum dum di di dum dum…

Yellow corydalis. Doug Green rightly observes this is surely one of the longest flowering perennials, starting in late May and going until a hard frost takes it out in mid-late autumn. Self seeds politely, never uncouthly.


Yellow lamium. I like this for the gold in the foliage, and the contrasting shade of pink flowers. This lamium is a politely growing plant, less enthusiastic than its cousin lamiastrum, or yellow archangel. I love the lamiastrum too, however, especially as it’s easy to remove if it’s getting too exuberant


Portulaca is a memory garden plant: I put it in containers and at the edge of beds every summer in memory of my aunt Joyce, who dearly loved this plant—and cats. She was my mother’s twin, and always very good to me, and I miss her still.


I’ve discovered that yellow-flowered rhododendrons and azaleas make me very happy too. Golden Lights azalea came home the other day; this is Capistrano rhododendron, (I think)—not yet dwelling in our garden, but probably by the weekend…


As I’ve surely mentioned before, I’ve never met a poppy I didn’t adore. The various Icelandic and alpine poppies especially appeal to me, although I’m not sure of this one’s species. I must go check it. Regardless, its soft yellow colour makes me peacefully content with life.

Jubilation reigned supreme when I realized the yellow trillium was doing just fine, thank you. It has curious flowers, unlike the more showy painted, red, and white species, but between those dainty flowers and its mottled foliage, it’s a jewel in the shade garden.


Yellow globeflowers. I heard someone sneer about these ‘common’ plants that look like giant buttercups. Well, yes, they do…and they’re lovely, happy, wellbehaved plants, and much loved in my spring garden, common or not.

Last but not least on this mellow yellow tour is Thermopsis, or false lupine. We have lupines too, but they tend to come and go, while this plant politely grows in its clump each year, getting a bit bigger and generally minding its pees and queues. It looks great with the Mourning widow cranesbill that grows near it.

We’re only in to about variation 10 in the Goldberg, but that will do for tonight. Perhaps next I’ll do gold foliage. Won’t that be cheery fun?

Catching up with things

It’s been a busy busy weekend, and now I feel like I should be like Simon Q, basking in the sun…

First I jumped in the car on Friday morning to head to Yarmouth to the annual convention of the Nova Scotia Association of Garden Clubs…and to visit a few nurseries along the way. Among my ports of call were three I’d never been to before, which I have to write up and post for other NS readers to check out.



One of them is Woodland Farm Nursery, in Upper Clements (not far from Bunchberry Nurseries), and it is a lovely place, up on the hill overlooking the Bay. Another is Garden of Eatin’ Farm and Nursery in Paradise (Lovely pun, yes? )

What I like is that a lot of nurseries do these wonderful display gardens to show what some of their plants look like planted out and to give us gardeners new ideas about designs.One of my favourite gardens is at Bunchberry Nurseries, as I'm sure I've mentioned before. (I feel like I ought to show them off because they don't have a website--yet.

I rolled into Sandford to my friend Flora’s place about 630—eight hours after I left home. It’s normally a 2.5 hour drive…but when one visits no less than six nurseries along the way….

Flora is one of the most marvelous gardeners I know of. She has this great sense of colour, and she is the propagation princess of the universe. She can take a cutting from anything and get it to root...and she's a great one to share her plants. Her sister and another friend were also staying with her, and I understand that on their way back home, they visited some of the nurseries I told them about--and their car was filled too when they got home.

Saturday morning was foggy in Sandford, but not wet so it was a nice time to wander around Flora's back garden and refresh my soul--and get inspired to try some different ways of planting our yard! She has the best tulips I've seen in a personal garden!



New plants that rode home in the car included:
Half dozen lovely heritage tomatoes
An orchid primrose
The Thujupsis I was talking about the other day
Canada Holly (Ilex verticillata) and Winterberry (Gaultheria procumbens)
Golden Lights Azalea
Lemon Princess Spirea
Another delicious selection of annuals
A lovely copper beech

And when I got home, there was a truckload of soil waiting for me. In between deadlines, you know what I'll be doing!

closeup in the garden

Because i'm up to my ears in deadlines (to say nothing of couchgrass and buttercups in the garden), I'm a bit rushed and don't have a lot of time to update my blog. But I thought a few intriguing photos would be worth a thousand words....

I will plant these tulips faithfully every year, because they are a work of complete and wonderful art in themselves. Meet Apricot Parrot....


Ruby Wedding Astrantia: a perennial that deserves to be more popular than it is, as you can see by contemplating the intricacies of its lovely flowers.


One of my favourite trees is the dawn redwood, with the deliciously cumbersome botanical name Metasequoia glyptostroboides. This is a deciduous conifer like larch (Larix laricina) and an ancient, intriguing tree. Thought to be extinct when first described from fossil records in 1941, live specimens were found in China that same year. It's becoming more popular as an ornamental tree. Mine is small, but growing.


Someday, perhaps I'll get to visit Namaqualand, in southeast Africa, during the spring wildflower bloom.
Until such time, I'll celebrate the wonders of African wildflowers by planting some of the hybrids developed from these plants. This is an osteospermum with the well-descriptive name of Pink-Yellow. Or maybe it's Yellow-Pink?


These are the lovely cones of a spruce, Picea glauca Acrocona (Acrocona Norway spurce). I think spruce are another underused and splendid tree, and while I don't have this one--yet--I'm going to go back to Briar Patch to get it. Sooner than later, too.


Another nemesia in the Sunsatio series, this is Sunsatio Lemon. Though it's not as lemon-yellow as all that, but I sure like it!


Viburnums turn my horticultural self on--there are lovely native varieties, such as V. trilobum (Highbush cranberry) but I love this fragrant darling, Birkwood. Did you know you can get a five foot tall shrub into a Yaris? And that the car will smell divine during the drive home from Blomidon Nurseries?


Another unique tree--the Thujopsis, sometimes called False arborvitae. Its foliage has this surreal, almost rubber-like texture. It again doesn't live here--yet--but will shortly.
Back to my deadlines...hopefully I'll get some planter images up over the weekend, but first I'm off to Yarmouth...and assorted nurseries between here and there. Guess the car will be full again....

A gardener's potpourri

Sunday was another of those ideal gardening days—not too hot, nicely sunny and with a hint of a breeze on the air. We fled the house right after breakfast and stayed outside until muscles simply refused to work further. First on the day’s agenda was a stroll around the property to plantwatch—what’s in bloom? What’s come up today? What’s going to flower? What’s missing in action?


It’s no wonder I’m besotted by blue flowers. Look at Loddon Royalist Anchusa: I could drown in this shade of blue!

A lady at one of my talks told me she gives her husband a tree every year on his birthday. I think that’s a lovely thing to do! Eight years ago, when we first moved here, I gave my dearly beloved a young horse chestnut sapling, about three and a half feet tall. This year, it’s heading for 15 feet, and it’s going to flower, with no less than a dozen definite flowery ‘candles’ (flower spikes) to celebrate its life in Scotts Bay.

One of the best things about garden season is the hummingbirds. As near as we can tell, we have around a dozen of the tiny winged jewels racing around our yard all day every day. The rubythroated hummingbird is the only species that comes to Nova Scotia (and indeed to much of eastern North America, I understand) but that’s okay—these little darlings are a delight to watch. They are voracious for both the three feeders of various types we have around the house AND now for the variety of annuals we’ve put out in part for their benefit. And they’re not a bit shy in coming to ‘tell’ us that the feeders need filling.


Despite the fact that the weeds in the back yard are growing faster the perennials are, my main goal for the day was to plant up some of the containers with a variety of annuals. As many readers know, I’m quite partial to annuals because of the way plant breeders have gone into overdrive creating marvelous colours of foliage and flowers. There’s nothing shy and retiring about my colour sense, either. I always say that in a garden, you can put together combinations that you’d never dream of doing in your home décor or your clothing wardrobe. Take this gerbera—I adore it, though I’d never wear orange!


Nemesia is one of those underused annuals that people need to know more about. Some are fragrant, some come from seed, others are developed by plant breeders, including this delightful Sunsatia ‘Raspberry’ cultivar. Although it’s not one of the fragrant types, the hummers seem to like it, and I excuse its lack of scent as being made up for by its delectable colour.



Last year I planted what were supposed to be a number of Leucojum bulbs, also known as Summer Snowflake. Whether they were mostly kidnapped by naughty bulbnapping rodents or failed to germinate or else were mixed in with snowdrops, I don’t know, but most of what were supposed to be snowflakes turned out to be snowdrops. Except for this one single solitary stem of lovely bells. I’m hoping they’ll multiply and that I’ll find more bulbs this year—properly labeled.


By the time I finished planting, weeding and puttering, it was too late to photograph some of the containers and plants without using the flash—which always muddies the colours too much for my liking. Today was overcast with some rain, though mild, so you’ll have to wait for fair weather to return before I do a photo essay of why I love annuals.

The gardens are pulsing with life, although a few things are still missing in action. I don’t expect to see Lysimachia Beaujolais come up, as we wondered about its hardiness, but I’m starting to worry a bit about our Amsonia, as they haven’t put in an appearance yet. They’re always late—along with gentians and chameleon plant, they’re the last to yawn and stretch and emerge from the soil, but it seems there should be something showing by now. But I’ll be patient—and plotting what to put in if the blue stars don’t show up. There's always something new to try...