Sunday, December 12, 2010

Growing Pains

My apologies for the multi-month hiatus. Such are the perils of self-employment. Most of that time was spent in fall clean-up, preparing gardens for winter, and designing and installing winter decoration. My season officially ended at Thanksgiving. The last few weeks, well, month, have been filled with catching up on work in and around the house and trying to organize the office. And, since I work out of the house, there are many distractions.....
What occupied most of my time at home was assembling my entry for the 2011 MNLA Landscape Design Awards. This is the first time I've entered any type of contest and I was very excited. I chose the annual containers I designed for the entrance of my Minnetonka client: spring bulbs, summer annuals and winter decoration. I am proud of what I created and pleased with how it turned out. A lot of time, effort and consideration went into choosing photos and writing a project description. The photos in this blog are some of what I submitted. At last, in mid-November, I bundled up my baby and it sent off to be judged.
Last week I received the results.
No award.
Don't get me wrong, I did not expect to receive the highest award on my first attempt at entering anything. The results notification included the comment and observation sheets the judges used for critiquing the entries. The comments fairly slapped me in the face: "busy", "little that compliments the architecture", "does not rise to level of outstanding or unique", "not distinctive", and worst of all, "fairly typical".
I felt like I was being mercilessly ripped apart. Busy? read "sloppy." Not unique? read "boring." Not distinctive? read "uncreative." Typical? read "cookie-cutter." A sloppy, boring, uncreative cookie-cutter design. ouch. But the comments that I just could not understand were the ones indicating they preferred the spring bulb display. What?! They're only tulips - ALL tulips! Sure, tulips are not considered a sloppy plant, but there is no creativity, no unique qualities, nothing distinctive about... just...tulips. Besides, aren't tulips the typical thing to have is spring? WHAT DO THESE PEOPLE WANT??
After I finished my tantrum and cooled down a bit, I read the comments again, this time more objectively. They loved the bulb and winter displays. That's good. What qualities do those have that the summer lacked? They have strong vertical presence, for one thing. The tallest containers of the winter display were over six feet tall. As I look at the summer display again, they did end up a little...uh...weedy and wild, and by the end of the summer they blended into a big leafy blob...in a word, busy.
So, what can I do differently? Better? I decided to try looking from a different angle. I've been studying the architecture of the house more closely. It is very unique and strong in clean, vertical lines - extra high windows, narrow pillars extending beyond the roof, walls on either side of the door, the trellises. Oh, and the birch growing through the roof.
Design is an interesting thing: the designer pours their personal creativity into the planning process and devotes so much time and care to the installation that the final result becomes an extension of the designer, especially when it exceeds their expectations. When that creation is judged and critiqued - even with the best of constructive intentions - the designer feels that their creativity, their ability, their very personality is under attack. This is what I experienced when I first read the comments of the judges. Criticism, no matter how constructive, is still criticism. But, now that I understand that the judges' critique is intended to help me, the comments have lost most of their personal sting. I now have a clearer direction of how to be a better landscape designer.


Thursday, August 12, 2010

Super Hollyhocks!

My in-laws lifted their house and put a basement underneath in 2006. As a result of the construction, all of the gardens around the foundations had to go. Anticipating a garden make-over, the majority of the plants were taken to the compost/dump. (seems so sacrilegious....)

Anyway, on a subsequent trip to said dump, my husband (Luke) and I happened to see two or three hollyhocks standing tall in full bloom among the piles of discarded yard waste, as if to say "You can't get rid of us that easily!" Knowing my mother-in-law wanted hollyhocks for her Victorian / English garden, we came back with black plastic pots and shovels. The base and root ball (yes, root ball) was quite big so they were growing at the dump for at least a year. They barely fit in our largest pot, a #15, I think.

The garden where the hollyhocks were to be wasn't quite ready for plants, so we plopped the pot in a spot where it would be out of the way of the final construction touch-ups until we could plant them before winter. Ah, the best laid plans of mice and men.... The hollyhocks remained in that out-of-the-way spot, toughing out our Minnesota winter in a pot above ground...and in spring I was amazed to find new growth. They had survived. That summer (2007) turned out to be their dormant year so no flowers but lots of leafy and rooty growth.

June 13, 2010 - Me in the hollyhocks. I'm 5'6".

2007 came and went, and so did many other projects that claimed priority over the hollyhocks. In 2008 it was time to transplant them to their final home. We dragged the #15 pot to the other end of the house and properly planted them. That year they had a small flower show - the flower stalks weren't much higher than three feet. .

That year we started seeing some plants springing up in that out-of-the-way spot where the pot had been. Baby hollyhocks! We allowed them to grow where they were, treating the area as an unofficial nursery. 2009 came, the babies got taller and added more leaves. The original plant, uh, plants, also grew taller and added many more leaves. Again its dormant year, it looked more like a hollyhock bush.

Enter 2010. This year we began revamping the gardens along the sidewalk and one of the projects was to transplant the baby hollyhocks to the garden with the original hollyhock. The babies had sent up the first flowers stalks of their young lives.
Note: It is not a good idea to transplant hollyhocks while in bloom, nor is it a good idea to bare root said hollyhocks during the transplanting process. Ours survived, but barely. Fall is a better time for transplanting hollyhocks.

June 13, 2010 - Almost 7' tall
The big hollyhock pulled out all the stops this year. The foliage was almost three feet tall by the end of May and had at least 24 flower stalks that were 4 1/2 tall and covered with buds. June came and the stalks kept growing...5 1/2 feet tall ....6 feet.... the tallest stalk actually grew 6 inches in one night - no lie!.... the first color peeked out at 6 1/2 feet... 7 feet....
June 13, 2010 - 6' 8 1/2" tall
July 1, 2010 - Over 8' tall













When Luke and I returned from a three week vacation, we came back to a giant hollyhock over 8 feet tall in full pink and white blooming glory. Luke is 6'4" and he can't reach the top of the flower stalks!





July waned into August and its intense heat and humidity. The majority of the flowers have long since faded away and are now setting seed, but there are a few late bloomers that are pleasant to see.

August 11, 2010 - 10' 2" tall





Today, I measured the tallest flower stalk at 10 feet 2 inches tall.

August 11, 2010









I know hollyhocks are tall, but is this normal?!

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Plants on the Hill


This week we mulched our hill. It's actually my in-law's house. Three years ago they lifted the house and stuck a basement underneath. The front hill was cut through during the process. Since it was a horrible (and dangerous) thing to mow, we decided to plant it with prairie-like plants. This is their third year on the hill and it's looking great. We leave everything up during winter and cut it back in spring. We've discovered which plants self-seed and which do not. As a result we have many new freebies! Always a bonus. The randomness of where the new plants grow adds to the prairie look. Here are the descriptions of our hill plants.

Achillea millefolium 'Paprika' (Paprika Yarrow) Very tough little plant. It is very free-form and would be considered scruffy or unruly anywhere but a prairie setting. Bright orange-red flowers
that don't stay as long as I hoped. This is one we've allowed to

self-seed to fill in the gaps. The Achillea is very happy to oblige. And it grows fast, too. The original plants have more than doubled in width since we planted them. Very good for soil stabilization and erosion control. Very drought and "crappy soil" tolerant. Just wish they bloomed longer.

Echinacea purpurea 'Magnus' and Echinacea purpurea alba 'White Swan' (Magnus Purple Coneflower and White Swan Coneflower) When we first planted the coneflower we quickly saw evidence of Aster Yellows* - on all the plants. Greatly dismayed, we pulled up the worst ones, which left many gaps. We allowed the remainder to self-seed. The following year many baby coneflower dotted the hill. Now, in the third year, we have healthy patches of coneflower with minimal Aster Yellows sightings. As you can guess in the photo, a Magnus seedling grew up through a White Swan ....or is it the other way around? The stems of the coneflower are incredibly stiff and strong; I caught the tines of a garden rake under a flower head - the flower didn't pop off nor did the stem break. These characteristics make Echinacea a perfect choice for our very windy and exposed hill.

*Aster Yellows is a virus that causes bizarre distortions in the flowers, sometimes preventing the petals from expanding, and the foliage to turn a funny yellowish color. It is spread by leaf hoppers and is untreatable. Infected plants aid in spreading the disease and will become worse in ensuing years. UPDATE: For photos of Aster Yellows click here.


Juniperus sabina 'Monna' (Calgary Carpet Juniper) The only true shrub on the hill. Very tough plant that laughs at the terrible soil. A little slow in growing, but has grown noticeably this year. As suggested by the 'Carpet' in the name, this variety of Juniper grows out instead of up. The evergreen nature offers a nice visual rest from all the color and billowiness of the perennials. We have some situated near the top of the hill; they don't look quite right there so we're considering moving to the lower parts of the hill. Not really looking forward to that job....


Perovskia atriplicifolia (Russian Sage) Wonderfully silvery-purple and billowy. It is the largest plant chosen for the hill. Although a marginal Zone 4, it withstands Minnesota winters quite well - and the hill is exposed to the harsh winter winds. I think the secret is to have adequate snow cover. By leaving the plants standing during winter they act as a snow fence, preventing the snow

from blowing away and, therefore, providing the necessary snow cover. I do cut them back by 1/2 - 1/3 every fall. In spring I inevitably have to remove more so it actually ends up being 1/4 height. But it never ceases to grow up to its 4-foot height each year. In the three years it's been on the hill only one has died. Unexpected bonus - readily self-seeds! Yay for free plants!


Rudbeckia sp (Black-Eyed Susan) Today I was surprised to find a rogue Rudbeckia in the Echinacea. "What are you doing here?" I asked, because I really do talk to plants! I'm actually quite delighted he decided to join us on the hill; his yellow flowers will be little spotlights scattered among the lavender-purple and silver blue. Having similar traits to Echinacea, they are also well-suited to our hill. They begin blooming about 2 weeks after the Echinacea and continue about a month after the Echinacea has gone to seed. A great way to keep the color coming!




Schizachyrium scopulorum (Little Bluestem) I have had more people ask me to identify "that grass" than any other plant on the hill combined. As the name suggests, the blades are a delightful blue-green. Very vertical presence. In fall the blades turn a striking red-purple - which is when I get the inquisitive passers-by. In October the flower plumes open a delightful silver. They're not as showy as a Miscanthus (Feather Reed Grass), but the effect of silver above purple is lovely. As winter approaches, the blades turn a buff color with a hint of orange. We leave them up all winter. Sure, they get flattened by heavy snow, but they bounce back up in spring. We actually use the grass as our winter weather vane and wind sock. Since the trees have no leaves it isn't immediately clear if it's windy. Then we look at the grass. If the bitter wind is blowing them around, we know it's better for us to stay inside.

Plants on the Move?

Today was one of those days when I absolutely love my job and can't picture myself doing anything else. Approximately 80*, low dew point / humidity, bright blue sky, and a pleasant breeze just strong enough to keep the mosquitoes at bay - weather so vastly different from yesterday (96* air temp + 70% humidity = 103* heat index, so humid clothes are drenched in 15 minutes, air so thick you felt like you are moving in slow motion) it feels like we've fast-forwarded to October!

It was my Deephaven clients' day for garden maintenance. As a preface, their property is surrounded by woods. As I walked around the house I startled a doe who went bounding off, but not too far. A little further down the path I startled her fawn. Actually, I think we startled each other because he didn't run away. I stood stock-still and he looked at me with his big black eyes as if to say, "Hey, I've never seen something like you before! What kind of animal are you? You look sort of friendly." He actually took two or three steps closer to me! We were about 15 feet apart, and there we stood. He was so cute and spotted! I decided to press my luck and slowly reached down for my camera, which was close by. But just as I began to move, the fawn bounded away. This meant I would be spraying Liquid Fence today. yippie.

My project today was to dig back the Astilbe that had over-grown a flagstone path leading from the driveway down the hill into the back yard. Since I leave the flower stalks up during winter, the Astilbe has self-seeded very freely and very well. When the seedlings were small, they didn't pose a problem along the path. But after two years, they started to gain size, over-taking the path and all but hiding it from view and making it difficult to navigate - even for me. Today was the day. I dug and I pried and I scraped and, finally, lo! behold a path! No more gingerly high-stepping to avoid damaging a plant, no more foliage pulling at pant legs, no more flower stalks slapping arms. The path is now visible from the driveway and once again beckons a garden wanderer to come explore.

As for the plants I pulled up, I had Astilbe coming out of my ears! I didn't realize so many had grown! Thankfully, I had many wonderful places that had been plantless for too long and they welcomed the little Astilbe gratefully. That is what I love about gardening - finding plants that sprang up on their own, usually under other plants where they would be crowded, not get enough light, and grow into a funny shape; and then relocating them to a place in the garden where they can have all the space they need, where they can be seen and appreciated; and create a new garden in the process - for free!

I love how gardens always change - I wouldn't have much of a job if they didn't!

Sunday, June 20, 2010

Holy giant geranium, Batman!

Today we traveled from Granada to Nerja on the Mediterranean coast. Along the way I noticed all the plants on the roadsides and in courtyards.
Lots of vines. Bougainvillea covered entire walls and so thick with purple flowers that no green could be seen. Jasmine crawling it's way up and across stucco walls, filling the air with it's delightfully sweet perfume. Plumbago flopping over the top of a wall in a cloud of blue.
And all the plants are huge! Not just the height, but the leaves, flowers, everything. Lantana is as big as a dogwood and is used for hedges! Oleander is a large shrub, grows wild and is planted on roadsides like sumac.
And the wild geranium. Yes, wild. A patch of it was on the shore between the sidewalk and the rocks. I did a double-take. The leaves were as big as a maple's, had trunks 4 inches wide, and were as tall as me. I saw it and I still don't believe it.
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Oranges aplenty

Spain has the best orange juice. Every morning we watch our waitress put two orange halves in a huge stainless steel orange press and viola! Fresh orange juice!

But I started to wonder at how much it would cost the cafe owners; how many oranges do they go through in a day? How can they afford it? Then I saw that the oranges were much larger and juicier than the ones back home. One orange made enough juice for a large glass. What makes these oranges different?

Because orange trees line the streets. They are everywhere and used as ornamental trees. Ripe fruit falls to the ground and lays there. It seems like such a waste, but orange trees are as common as crabapples.

The cafes can afford mass quantities of oranges because they can go out the door and pick them. The fruit is larger and juicier because they are allowed to ripen on the tree. We, on the other hand, need our oranges shipped to us. Those oranges are most likely picked green and are therefore smaller, less juicy, and artificially ripened.

I plan to enjoy as much Spanish orange juice as I can drink.

If only we could find such a wonderful use for all our crabapples....
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Saturday, June 19, 2010

I should have been sultan

My husband and I are on vacation in Spain for two weeks. Our first stop is Granada. The first day was spent exploring the neighborhoods near our hostel, shopping and trying to not look like tourists.
Yesterday we went to the alhambra palace. This palace was the center of the moorish government when they occupied medieval Spain. Situated on the highest point in the city, la Alhambra is very impressive. Many have stated that the nasrid palaces - the royal residences - were the highlight of their visit. Oh, they were beautiful, no question and we enjoyed touring them. But the highlight of our visit, without a doubt, was the Generalife.
The generalife (hen-air-all-LEAF-ay) is a gardening and landscaping wonder. The sultan would come to this retreat after a long day of decisions, decrees and discussions to lose himself in the beauty of the countless gardens and courtyards.
Perfectly manicured hedges with perfectly sculpted arched doorways create a miriad of rooms, each with differently themed gardens. The arches and doors open to views the length of the garden or to sweeping vistas of la Alhambra, sometimes windowed in a hedge arch.
The ancient moors were masters of the water feature. Coming from a land where no water meant certain death and possessing abundant water displayed one's wealth, water was of immense importance. The moors employed the Roman aqueducts to bring water to the countless pools, fountains, rills and bubbling things throughout the complex. The sight and sound of water is everywhere. The most creative use of water is the water stairs. A long flight of stairs has a rill cascading down where the handrail should have been, carving out pools in the stone on landings before it tumbles down again.
As I wandered this oasis, I imagined the sultan wandering also, his head full of important royal thoughts, trying to find some peace from his stressful day. Perhaps he strolled down the arched colanade along a pool with happily splashing fountains while he confided his troubles in a trusted friend or sought counsel from his loyal vizir. All the while the soothing sound of water surrounds everything.
Oh yes, a person could get used to this.
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Monday, May 31, 2010

The Incredible Iris



My husband and I went to the Minnesota Landscape Arboretum the other weekend. Although it happened to be one of the hottest days of the spring (90*+ and humid), we still managed to be plant geeks.

One of the gardens we particularly enjoyed was the Iris Collection. Here are pics of my favorite ones, all German bearded iris (Iris germanica). I'm still kicking myself for not having anything to write down the names - they were quite creative. Enjoy the pics, and none of the colors have been altered! (p.s. the above pic is an unknown iris in our yard that was a gift.)



(this one fell over, but I loved the colors)



















Monday, May 24, 2010

Bring On the Color!

I just installed my major annual display for a client. She has containers around her home on various patios. Each area has different lighting and, depending on what part of the house looks out over the area, a different theme. Whenever possible, I use the same plants around the property, but in different colors to accomplish the theme.

My new favorite color combo? Purple, orange, blue and pink. Yes, in the same container! It's fabulous!
The plants I used are:

Ageratum 'Artist's Blue'
Calibrichoa 'Superbells Pink'
Coleus 'Sedona'
Crocossima 'Orange Marmalade'
Fuchsia 'Autumnale'
Lantana 'Bandana Cherry Sunrise'
Sedum 'Bertram Anderson'
Stobilanthes 'Persian Shield'

While flowers are wonderful, not every plant needs a flower to be interesting or colorful. Foliage plants can add a lot to a design. Take the Persian Shield. It's purple, right? Look closer. There's also magenta, which ties in the pink calibrichoa. The orange foliage of the Fuchsia 'Autumnale' plays well with the purple Persian Shield, while the pink tones unify all three plants.

(A word of caution about purple I learned the hard way: Purple likes to steal the show. Use sparingly ie one plant as a focal point or one variety of purple flowers. Too much purple over-powers other colors to the point where you won't notice them!)


Take chances with your annual containers - we are no longer limited to geraniums and spikes. Play around with color - be bold! Break out the color wheel! My designs always turn out best when I use my color wheel. Try a plant you've never used or heard of before. If you're feeling particularly adventurous, add perennials to your annual containers - they can be planted in your garden in the fall. You'll be amazed with what you create!

Wednesday, May 19, 2010

Can I Help You?

As a gardener, there are times when I need to make a run to the local garden center and/or discount super store to grab some plants. At some point while zipping through the aisles looking for the perfect specimen, another customer inevitably come to me and says, "Excuse me, where can I find Plant So-and-So?" I politely say, "Oh! I don't work here." That's when they suddenly notice (and actually start with surprise) that I'm not wearing the store's uniform or colors, and that I am, in face, wearing the shirt and logo of my own company. It usually happens that I've been around the store a few times, so I remember where I saw Plant So-and-So and can direct the bewildered and slightly embarrassed customer in the right direction.

I am amazed at how often this happens to me - three times in one store on one occasion. It's even more amazing at a certain home improvement superstore...do you see a violent orange apron or orange of any kind on me anywhere?! It makes me laugh inside every time. I guess I must really look like I know what I'm doing!

So the question is: What are the identifying characteristics of a garden center employee? After some thinking, comparisons, cross-checking and the process of elimination, I've compiled a list. It could be a fun social experiment!

How to be Mistaken for a Garden Center Employee
Essentials:
1. Wear a polo shirt - any color
2. Carry a clipboard full of papers. Consult it often.
3. Push a cart loaded with plants - many of one variety is preferable
4. Give an air of a person on a mission

Not Necessary but Really Adds to the Effect:
1. Have noticeable dirt smeared on your face and clothes.
2. Wear a pair of sunglasses on the top of your head.
3. Have messy, wind-blown hair. Guys - hat hair or rumpled resembling bed head. Gals - messy pony tail or braid falling out.
4. Stick a pen/pencil behind your ear or in your hair. Use it when consulting your clipboard.

So, head on down to your local garden center / home improvement superstore and see how many people come to you for answers!

Sunday, May 16, 2010

Totally Tulips

Here are pics of my client's spring bulb containers in all their glory. I chose six tulip varieties for the color scheme: white to compliment pink & white; yellow to compliment pink & yellow; and red to compliment orange and red. I think it turned out well!





April 20, 2010 -
One week
after installation:




























April 27, 2010 -
Two weeks after installation



























Here are close-ups of my favorites. (I love the macro function on my camera!)










Here was a surprise! The only pink and white marbled tulip in the whole bunch - and in the container closest to the front door! I couldn't have planned it better.











A white tulip with a dusting of pink on the edge - also a surprise, also closest to the front door.

Saturday, May 15, 2010

Rearrange for a New Look

The rain finally stopped yesterday, so I went to one of my client's to actually get some work done. I spent most of the time removing the tulips from the containers around her front door and planting them throughout the gardens. Tulips add a wonderful vertical element when planted in a patch of groundcover astilbe (Astilbe pumila). I also wove some tulips through a planting of Annabelle hydrangea (Hydrangea arborescans 'Annabelle'). The hydrangeas are typically bare until the first part of May, so the tulips will add a punch to the area in spring. The annuals come next week, so I had to get everything ready for the big installation.

I spent today working in my yard. It's amazing how much my yard has, well, gone to seed (see "About Me"). My husband and I scheduled when the Big Yard Revamp will take place - it was much too big a project to tackle today. So I focused my energies on the garden along the sidewalk leading to the front door.

This garden has been a weedy, uncohesive mess for too long. After weeding (it always surprises me how much time that eats up!) I started planting. I had saved various volunteer perennial seedlings from clients' gardens (after making sure there was no where to place them in their yards, of course): lady's mantle (Achillea mollis), catmint of unknown cultivar (Nepeta sp), and unnamed perennial sage (Salvia sp.). I moved the achillea closer to the front edge, planted the salvia in groups of three - the magic number - near the back, and the nepeta in a meandering line. Next I filled in the spaces with tulips. The space actually looks like a garden now! I can't wait to see how everything fills in.

Thursday, May 13, 2010

Rain, Rain, Go Away

Day 3 of rain. I'm taking a short break from design work to grab a quick snack and get distracted blogging and spend much more time here than I planned.

It's a very dreary day here in the western suburbs of Minneapolis. Although it's 10:15ish am, we have all the lights on so we can see what we're doing. The cats are curled up in
the warmest spots in the house for their mid-morning nap. Puddy Cat, being 13 years old, is wisely splayed on the antique radiator. Yes, we had to turn on the heat - there's a 25 degree difference between inside and outside. The middle of May is feeling more like early April or November!

The sun made a brief appearance this afternoon. I almost forgot what it was...then it started raining again. Oh well, back to designing.



Here are the pictures promised from yesterday.



'Queen of Night' tulip



The bleeding heart in full sun. You can see the little fernleaf peony at the bottom of the pic.