sprig to twig

Every Sunday at one pm, the folks at Joy Creek put on an educational seminar. They always sound interesting, but tearing oneself away from gardening at home on a Sunday afternoon is a big order. Last Sunday, the subject was pruning. That got our attention. We have a running controversy around here. On one side is the liberal lopper, on the other, one dedicated to chaos theory (that would be me, as if you hadn’t guessed). I figured if I could drag Richard to this seminar, I would get some help in taming the rampaging beast. I figured wrong.

After a short introduction, during which it was impressed upon us the importance of caring for our tools (I was already behind the eight ball with that one, how about you?), we decamped to a Japanese maple. It looked quite beautiful to me…kind of an umbrella effect with a complete lacework canopy of branchlets. The picture above was taken about two thirds of the way through the process. It was brutal. It was, however, highly informative, as we were taken through the complete process, with our guide thinking out loud and conveying his strategy for each and every cut. First, he cut out all the dead wood. With that out of the way, it became easier to see the structure. Where branches rubbed against one another, decisions had to be made: which one would go? Sometimes the choice was surprising, until we learned of how it fit into the overall vision for the tree. In the end, the volume was taken back by about half. I began to see it less as butchery and more as a slow and careful artistic endeavor: the sculptor revealing the essence of the artwork. This particular tree is valued at around $3000.00 (insert Antiques Roadshow-ish gasp of disbelief here)

We had spent nearly an hour on the maple, so the rest of the session consisted of a walk around the grounds with questions and answers. A memorable stop along the route was this juniper, left to its own devices.

And its once identical twin after a haircut. The tonsured twin is less likely to lose limbs in extreme weather, and clean cuts have replaced any damaged areas where disease would be likely to gain a foothold. This guy has a windswept, coastal persona that is appealing, but I am still partial to his shaggier sibling (just a matter of taste: Jeff Bridges over Alec Baldwin any time).

I guess there will still be the push-pull of different perspectives in our garden. I may have lost all credibility in my quest for the “natural” look, but I can hardly complain. Most of our property is untouched deep woods. Tomorrow I will take you on another walk on the wild side.

Quite a few of us are bigger fans of foliage than of blossoms, so Pam’s brainstorm has us all aflutter. We can follow up Carol’s long-established Bloom Day with a post chronicling our standout foliage, then leave a comment on Pam’s entry so that like-minded bloggers can find us and share. This is my first time, and I am late (the target date is the 16th of each month). As with all things related to garden blogging, the rules are forgiving, so here goes:

Mahonia ‘Arthur Menzies’ knocked my socks off when I first saw it (in bloom). This one has been here for three years, the last two of which it formed long racemes of buds which were wiped out by bad weather. I don’t really mind, because the foliage looks like this all year. The ones at Cistus are 6′ tall, so it will only get better.

I keep adding heathers, but am not very good at keeping track of their names. This anonymous one snuggles up to Chamaecyparis ‘Barry’s Silver’.

In that same bed, the new foliage is showing up on the Rhus. I love the light, airy look and pale color at this stage.

Nothing seems to phase the Heucheras. They come through snows and deep freezes looking like this, and even seed around a bit. Think I’ll ever spot a sport to add to the growing horde?

The ‘Thunderhead’ pine is just a kid, but one of these days it will have started to sprawl and put forth the huge candles that attracted me to it in the first place.

Over in the vegetable patch, the rhubarb is beginning to push through the leafy mulch. See how crinkly and fresh the soon-to-be-huge leaves are at first.

Well, that was fun! Feel free to join in if you are a fellow foliage fancier. The more the merrier!

I must confess to being a little disappointed in this year’s show. In the past, nurseries were known to pull out all the stops in an effort to outshine one another and go home with ribbons. I only saw one booth that went that route, but then it’s been a hard year. That said, I fired up the camera for a few things I found noteworthy.

ANLD built this colorful booth.

Then loaded it up with plants that echoed and/or complemented the jazzy color scheme.

These large sculptural leaves sprouting from the framework of another booth caught my eye.

A large glass “tree” seems to be making the rounds of shows. Karen had a picture of it in her post about the Seattle show. The background was so busy that I opted for a close-up, but it was huge.

My mission was to soak up atmosphere and speakers, not so much to shop. Chief Joseph pines were everywhere. I found some, tiny, in 4″ pots, for $60. Guess I will wait until they become common, which, by the looks of things, they are bound to do. What I did spring for was bulbs of Eucomis ‘Sparkling Burgundy’ and Arisaema triphyllum, a Calluna vulgaris ‘Blazeaway’ to add to my growing heather collection, and Euonymus fortunei ‘Emerald ‘N’ Gold’.

Zeroing in on just a couple of speakers out of so many choices was tough. Sean Hogan of Cistus Nursery spoke about bold foliage for small gardens. His point was that in a small room, filling it with finicky, small furniture makes it feel smaller than bold strokes. Well, we have a large property, but I figure the big stuff is even more important here. Cistus is nearby, so when I’m ready I will just pop on over to see what is available and grill the ever helpful staff. Sean’s talk was more along the lines of high entertainment for this plant-starved winter shut-in. Next, Dan Heims showed us shade plants….lots of shade plants, and filled us in on plant combinations, new introductions, and exactly the conditions to make them happy.

After all that stimulation, I was ready for a little walk. Miraculously, I had found a parking spot right across the street from the main entrance, so I decided to stroll around the perimeter of the convention center. I like the way plants spill over the balcony and contrast with the sand colored brick.

Bioswales carry runoff during the rainy months and are lined with draught tolerant grasses and basalt columns for year round interest, with traffic, bridges and skyline as background.

Honestly, how honest are we with ourselves? Oh well, because I hold Wendy, over at greenishthumb in high regard, here goes my best shot at revealing truths about myself.

1.   I’m a reader, so I don’t mind so much when it comes time to put the garden to bed.
2.   The books on my nightstand right now are: Blink by Malcolm Gladwell (this one we are reading aloud), The Glass Room by Simon Mawer (my book club’s selection for this month, just started so too soon to tell, but highly recommended), and The Closers by Michael Connelly ( a Harry, short for Heironomous, Bosh crime novel and illustrative of my weakness for suspense wrapped in violence with a strong, enigmatic main character like Bosh, Jack Reacher, Virgil Flowers, and the female assassin in my daughter’s latest).
3.    Favorite garden-related books are: anything by Mirabel Osler and Crazy About Gardening by Des Kennedy.
4.   Aesthetics are usually more important to me than practical considerations, resulting in oddities like a beautifully arranged tabletop still life covered in dust. Fortunately, Richard picks up the slack there with a weekly dust-up.
5.   I’m streaky when it comes to exercise. I love to swim and dance, but since we moved out here have found no place to do either. We live half way up a hill that makes for good exercise and contact with neighbors, but my enthusiasm for it comes and goes. My plan is to start the year carrying my camera with me on walks to record the coming and going of wildflowers, newts, bugs and such…which could lead to some posts here.
6.   I came late to gardening. Full time freelancing in design and raising two kids on my own kept me busy for a lot of years. Then I started writing a newsletter for Max & Hildy’s Garden Store. The owner kept sending plants home with me so I could write about them. I found delight in the way certain Latin names roll trippingly over one’s tongue…even when butchering the pronunciation.  One thing led to another…you know how it goes.
7.   Opening my garden for the first time in ‘08 was an eye-opener. I realized how much I see my own garden as I imagine it to be. There are many interesting plants here, but spread out over a large property it will take a long time for things to reach critical mass. HPSO members are inherently kind, so while humbling, the experience was, overall, a pleasant one.
8.   I fantasize about having a large frame on a wall (where a painting would normally be) where a loop of magical moments in film would show up at the flip of a switch. Most of these moments that come to mind involve dance: the grown up Billy Elliot leaping onto the stage at the end of the movie of the same name; a montage of Fred Astaire; the bit where an ordinary chair becomes Barishnikov’s dance partner in White Nights. The credits to The Three Musketeers, where D’Artagnan duels with his father in stop-action slow motion would be there too.
9.    I have a “book in a box”, thirteen chapters on gardening thoughts and experiences that just rolled out. It has even been professionally edited, but the final push required to send it out into the world for acceptance or rejection seems beyond me. Blogging suits me better.
10.   I just looked up “fetish”: 2. anything to which foolishly excessive respect or devotion is given. I have several of those, which I can rationalize as overcompensation. Last night we had dinner with friends and Ingrid and I got to talking about our shoe fetish. I went into rationalization mode, telling how my mom made all of my clothes, so that the only item I could shop for and purchase from a store was shoes. Not only that, but I have really ugly feet, so dressing them up in classy footwear made me feel better. Well, it turns out that shoe fetishes among women are nearly universal, so definition 1. an object worshipped by primitive peoples who believe it to have magical powers or to be inhabited by a spirit. is probably more on target. My other fetishes are hair and outerwear, and I won’t bore you with my rationalizations for those. What are yours?

So there are my true confessions. Now I am supposed to tag some bloggers I admire so they can play the game and we can all get to know each other better. I kind of dragged my feet getting around to this, so many of my faves have already had their say. On the bright side, that makes it easier to narrow it down to seven, and these are all blogs you will enjoy, if you have managed to stay with me so far.

http://dangergarden.blogspot.com/

http://fairegarden.wordpress.com/

http://greenwalks.wordpress.com/

http://plantedathome.com/blog/

http://mulchmaid.blogspot.com/

http://www.nestmaker.com/

http://inconsequentialblogger.blogspot.com/

I don’t suppose there is a gardener anywhere near the Portland area that is unaware of the Hardy Plant Society of Oregon’s big plant sale this weekend. I will mention it anyway, just in case. All of the best nurseries show up with their best merchandise, so it is like an epic road trip without the road…making the $7 fee for parking seem like the bargain that it is. Whatever your stand on the fall planting issue, you won’t want to miss out, so head on over to the expo center. You can click on HPSO in my blogroll if you need to know more.

Last Saturday HPSO brought in renowned plantsman Roy Lancaster to give a presentation. His plant sense doesn’t really match up with mine, which is probably a good thing: I came away with a shorter list of plants to watch for than I might have. The man himself is a delight. Puckish and exhuberant, his imitation of insects coming in for a landing in search of pollen was worth the price of admission. His emphatic gesture of running a hand through his shock of wiry white hair caused it to stand on end…looking much like Earl’s friend in the ‘Pickles’ cartoon.

His advice to those of us waiting overlong for a magnolia to bloom: first, talk to it nicely; threaten it; if those tactics fail to produce results, make arrangements for someone to dig it out. After ten years of anticipation, he went through these steps a year at a time. Step 3 had the desired effect: the tree burst into magnificent bloom, as only a magnolia can. The next year, when his contact called to ask “You know that magnolia you wanted me to haul away?” his reply was “What magnolia?”

Many of these events take place on the beautiful campus of Reed College, which takes me past the Reed Hell Strip. I’ll tell you about that and share some pictures next time.