Gardening Forgetfulness

Tuesday, February 21, 2011

Almost 5 PM and quiet here on the mountain. It was a pleasant day from the inside out but the wind blew all day and at best and with full, bright sun, the temperature found it difficult to get to 19°. The weather lady said last night and tonight would drop to -15° but last night only got to -9° here but reached -22° in Greensboro Bend. It's +11 degrees now, the wind is at 3 mph, and Karl the Wonder Dog says the fire feels nice on his belly after an abbreviated walk to the mail box.

I've always kept myself busy and in recent years I got more and more bothered by people asking what I would possibly do to keep busy when I retired. People that really knew me knew it would be no problem. I am loving retirement but I cannot find enough time to do everything that I need to finish. I need to mend my ways soon on this tax preparation thing because progress is snail slow and even Gail is getting impatient with my list of excuses for not finishing.

As a gardener I have started gardens I never completed. There weren't many but there were some. I really do not like incomplete paintings either. Just like a painter, I respect the creativity that occurs when that burst of energy occurs. In bookstores I am always wondering how Stephen King can crank out book after book, so big each time that store clerks hate to see new deliveries. I produce gardens quickly, except when I don't. Here's a photo of the corner of one that really never was finished.

In summer 2000, I hired a man with a tractor to skid large granite fragments from the woods and "plant" them in a garden I wanted to make here at the house. They ranged in length from 4-5 feet to over 11 feet and there were seven of them. Some visitors called them the 7 Sisters while other asked the significance of 7 stones in a circle. There was none. I just planted them the way they felt right to me.

My vision at the time was to plant a backdrop behind the circle of stones so that from the road to the pond, people would see an incredible ocean of color. Much of the garden was planted over the next 6-7 years and it began to take shape just in time for us to close up shop at the house and move the nursery. See if you can envision what was supposed to happen.

Behind the circle of stones, think of a row of Lilium superbum, 9-10 feet tall at maturity. Orange-red, black spotted, reaching for more light but waving "Look at us." to passersbys. The next picture shows them a couple years ago. In between each L. superbum I planted small groups of Lilium henryi. These top out at 4-5 feet and are orange with lots of whiskers. Like the L. superbum they are August bloomers here.

In front of the lilies were two row of hostas. The first was a solid row of Hosta 'Tall Boy'. Not all gardeners like Tall Boy because it's plain green leaves are just that. For me the strength comes in the flower scapes that over time as the plant matures will top out at 7 feet tall with beautiful purple flowers that are hummingbird and butterfly magnets. It's a plant I am always selling out of because people just don't see it in nurseries here and when they see it at maturity, it is coveted.

Then there was a row of Hosta 'Lakeside Cha Cha' mixed with Hosta 'Formal Attire' and each was spaced at about 3 feet so they would fill in over the years. In front of them was a mixed row of astilbes of various heights and colors but generally in the 28" range.... and then epimediums in good sized groupings with white grandiflorum predominating.

Behind the the lilies is a path that leads to a vernal pond and passes a bog garden I made. The back side of the path is planted with Aruncus dioicus that reaches almost 6 feet and has feathery , creamy white plumes on course, cut foliage. Those flowers add a lightness from afar. There are also some plantings of various ligularia and as they send up scapes, large spots of yellows and orange appear.

The garden has fallen in disarray, partly because of my forgetfulness but more so because time is short. My plan to clean it up last spring ran into a fit of reallocation of resources as we needed more help at the nursery than I expected. I am in hopes again of hiring a person who can work independently and without supervision--not a lot can work alone--but that is easier said than done. The deer have found the now-mature hostas and just after the new crop of fawns are delivered in June, mother does provide lunch preparation training to youngsters and hosta leaves, the "deer lettuce" of Vermont, begin to disappear. As such I want to get the last quarter of fence around the garden too. Maybe just maybe some blog reader with strong arms and no ties to a love life or an I pod or cell phone will respond with an interest in helping. In the meantime the snow is still deep and I can dream of what I really wanted this garden to be. If by chance you saw it in its partial glory, you know the masterpiece it almost was.

Writing from the mountain above Peacham Pond where last night's start to this blog has carried on to 7:20 AM. It's an even zero degrees here now, clear sky, rising sun, 2 mph wind. Don't be forgetful today!

George Africa
The Vermont Gardener

Bountiful Blossoms

Friday, July 31, 2009

The clock read 4:03 AM when Karl the Wonder Dog's thunderous commands brought me to attention. I neither understood his message nor really wanted to hear it. Yesterday's arthritic leftovers made thoughts of an early morning walk less than desirable.

I layed there for a minute waiting for the noise to stop and then between barks I heard the calling of a cat. The voice was different than any of the neighbors cats and I assumed that it was a "left-over", a cat that was brought on vacation to Peacham Pond and then left behind as it wandered while the family packed and left. Not all cats are good at adapting and this one is on that list.

With reluctance I got up, started the coffee and headed out with Karl. 57 degrees, still and overcast as if more rain is predicted. The previous night the rain gauge measured 2.75" here and exceeded 5 inches in southern Vermont. The wet summer that is not a summer continues.

I have to say the gardens are lush with all the rain and the daylilies are especially thick and full of blossoms. Morning walks here at the house are best for me because the absence of foot and car traffic allows me to hide from the embarrassment of gardens in shambles around the house. This is the second year we are trying to get the new nursery organized and priorities require that sacrifices be made. The wild impatiens is 4 feet tall with the rain and even some of the grand hostas in the lower garden are almost out of sight because of the rain and weed growth.

Up top is a picture of the Lilium superbum which came out yesterday. It's a poor picture but I'll get back to some better ones tonight if the weather comes around. These are tall lilies, sometimes reaching ten feet here. The bulbs are actually in the shape of a dog bone. They are easy to scale and start anew but even the simplicity of that reproductive process is something I couldn't find time for last fall or this spring. I have lost a few to voles and other critters and it's about time to get with some restoration.

Bee balm, monarda, Oswego tea, that mint family herb that does make a tea if you are into that stuff is in full bloom. I should dig and bag some and sell it but it's just another thing on the "to do" list that makes sense but I don't get to doing. I promised some more to Leslie down at the pond and I'll have to give her a call and tell her where the shovel is.


Again, my photography skills show the bad side of working in haste but this daylily picture is of a daylily known as the best coral colored daylily on the market. It's not new but it surely is nice. It's named South Seas. If you see it in our gardens, you'll think there's something wrong with the photo or the photographer and both are a little off. The daylily is a beauty!

Lilium that did not succumb to the lily leaf beetles are in bloom and doing well. An assortment that Brent and Becky's Bulbs sent me a couple years back to trial are in bloom now and most are longiflorum-asiatic crosses. These tend to be taller lilies with thicker stems and larger flowers. Some have faint fragrance, others almost none.

Some Asistic lilies have been with us since the 80's. Tags get lost, memories get foggy and yet some still return despite thick weed competition and the beetle. I forget the name of this 5 foot tall Asiatic over by the compost pile but it returns each year even though I dig away a few each season for customers who bug me for a chance to add a strong bulb to their collections. Some days when I am tired I give in because it's easier than repeating "No, not this year".

Gail is in the garden now making notes of things she wants Austin to dig and bring down to the nursery today. Some of the plants will require lots of digging as they are older, established plants. I sure wish Austin would find my 6 foot pry bar. I don't need it today but he will.

I'm heading to the nursery in a few minutes. Gail will have breakfast at Maple Valley mid morning with some friends from the autism community. Autism is an important reality in our lives and with a couple of the ladies attending this morning. They have sons, ages 25 and 43, who have presented them with lots of challenges. At some point in most gardeners lives, autism appears as a family member, friend or community acquaintance and things look a bunch different. Among the many things Gail juggles in life is how to make a better world for those on the spectrum. Her knowledge gets applied first right here at home. She is quick to answer gardening questions but speaks authoritatively about many aspects of autism too. If you have a question, feel comfortable asking her. We have a list of resources on our website

Got to scoot. If you some time, stop by and see us at the nursery.

Writing from the mountain above Peacham Pond where ravens and "raucous' are made for each other.

George Africa
The Vermont Gardener

Gardening at Vermont Flower Farm where we grow hardy plants for hardy Vermonters and their friends. Come visit!

Stones and Superbums

August 7, 2008

It's a wet night here on the hill as it is everywhere in Vermont. The rains just keep coming and coming as more and more roads and fields and riverbanks get washed away. Tonight's local news was just a repeat of last night's and it represented the same scene around the state today as dump trucks of all colors carried thousands of tons of stone to repair missing roads. I do not know the total rainfall but was told we received 3.7" in the past two days in this area.

Gail continues to sell flowers at the nursery despite the rain. There is no doubt that we would be doing much better if we could give away some free sunshine with every new plant but apparently that's something we'll have to do next year. The forecast for the next several days is for more of the same.

Maintaining a happy face is difficult when every pair of boots I own is wet and muddy in and out. I returned from my regular job tonight in time for the news and then went down to view the Lilium superbums in the lower garden. Two years ago they were the harbinger of bad tidings when I returned from Portland, Oregon to find the lily leaf beetle for the first time. This year they look splendid with only minor holes here and there. The constant rain is shortening their opportunity to please me but their numbers are so great this year that I don't care. Single plants are obvious here and there, the work of chipmunks lacking good planting guides.

Lilium superbum are tall lilies after a few years and these were eight feet in places before they headed back to earth due to heavy rains and gravity. They are a wall of fire, a standout growing tall behind the granite standing stones I first "planted" in the summer of 2000.

Many folks enjoy Lilium canadense but frankly the superbums grow faster and easier and seem more catchy to me. Not everyone has a place to plant tall plants but as one who enjoys the extremes of garden architecture, plant them I must! Right now Karl the wonder dog is pleading to go chase a cat and I need a little walk myself.


From the mountain above Peacham Pond where Gail just returned from a walk with a blossom from the double flowered daylily, flore-pleno, reminding me that I have promised two customers to bring some down to the nursery to sell.

Wet garden wishes,

George Africa
The Vermont Gardener
Vermont Flower Farm
Vermont Gardens

Snow on the roof, record in the books

Thursday, February 15, 2007

The Vermont Flower Farm sign is barely visible now but in our hearts, our gardens are always open. One degree below zero tonight but the wind speed brings the temperature to 10 below. It takes only seconds outside with Karl the wonder dog to know that this is not the night to do much sniffing around. This storm's record has been well publicized and the cold wil not leave.

I plowed three times yesterday and got out at 4:30 this morning to do everything again before heading out to work. From the last time I plowed last night until this morning, another foot dropped. The real trouble was the wind which drifted snow five feet high in places along the drive that I had in pretty good shape before going to bed. Tonight after work I got out the snow rake to approach the roof but the wind and blowing snow drove me back inside after less than half an hour. There is 4 feet of snow on the roof and although it's a standing seam metal roof, it's been cold for over a month and the snow has been holding on since a mid-January rain storm. My work is cut out for me over the next couple days. Once I pull the snow off the roof I have to dig out the windows and doors again. Such is winter.


In fall I leave many of the plant stalks standing tall in wait for a blanket of white to accentuate their unseen beauty and interest. The new snow has covered everything now and only a few rudbeckias stand above the drifts on the bank outside my office window. In their absence I try to visualize the beauty of waves of red, purple and maroon bee balm, busy with honey and bumble bees, butterflies and hummingbirds.

I short while back I included a picture of a very tall clump of Empress Orienpet lilies surrounded by monarda. The picture drew a comment on the interest of the combination. Monarda is seen as a rough plant by many but I rate it as a people pleaser because visitors are regularly entertained by the insects and birds which frequent it. It can get out of hand, a trait from it's mint-like origins but its shallow roots make eradication or relocation as easy as bending over and selectively pulling out some extras here and there.

The so-called roughness can easily be tempered by bordering it front and back with larger and taller flowers. Much by accident we have used lilies and daylilies and are pleased with the outcome. The dark reds and maroons of Asiatic lilies such as Black Jack or America work well with the monarda reds and even though the monarda is a continuous flow of color, the size and smoothness of the lily petals catches your eye.

Several years back, lilies known as LA Hybrids were released. These are crosses between the longiflorums of Easter lily fame and Asiatic lilies, the fragrance-free, dependable, inexpensive, quick-to-multiply lily now common in many gardens. The LAs have large flowers, thicker petals, a mild fragrance of sorts, if any fragrance at all. They are strong lilies which can hold up against late July-early August thunderstorms and they work well as standouts within the bee balm.

And as a finishing touch, you can add some Lilium superbum standing in the back and swaying with the wind. These are 7-8-9 foot tall lilies over time and they make great perches for hummingbirds tired from flight and in need of a breather.


The daylily world has some terrific varieties now and I am developing an interest in tall varieties 36" and over. The liliums I have suggested are just that, suggestions to get you thinking about color, height and texture. Daylilies can replace the bulb lilies or other pernenials for that matter. The result will be a mass of color which will offer enjoyment for a long time. On a night like tonight when it's bitter cold and very white outside, I can close my eyes and see the bee balms,see the colors. Think about your gardens....see the colors????


From the mountain above Peacham Pond where the wind pounds the house but can't come in and where this gardener-plowman-snow shoveler-roof cleaner thinks it's time for bed. But not before that last piece of cherry pie and a glass of milk--a homemade Valentines Day gift from my Valentine, Gail.

With garden thoughts in winter,

George Africa
http://vermontflowerfarm.com
http://vermontgardens.blogspot.com