sprig to twig

We have about 10 Italian cypresses scattered along the drive leading to our house. They act like a series of exclamation points. Some shoot up from bare ground, while others provide vertical elements amid lower growing plants.

With Stachys ‘Helen Von Styne’ sending up flowering stalks from her mounds of silvery foliage, it amounts to the best of both worlds. Beloved by bees, these stems also exude a subtle fragrance and avoid flopping.

In late spring, Eremurus ‘Cleopatra’ towers over this same berm, anchored by an Italian cypress at the far end. I might be accused of overdoing the spires, but there are billowy Euphorbias, rounded Rhododendrons and a few groundcovers to soften the effect.

After Cleo has faded, Kniphofia ‘Percy’s Pride’ steps in. I always knew kniphs as red hot pokers, but Percy is more of a white hot poker, pale yellow shaded to light green. K. ‘Primrose Beauty’ is less vigorous, but it may just need a little more sun than it gets on the other side of that Berberis jamesiana.

About mid-summer, Acanthus spinosa produces tall columns of exotic looking blooms that dry in place and are dressing up their berm even now. When happy, they can be thuggish, but I love them too much to complain.

I never know where the foxgloves will show up, but they seem to have a knack for placement. You may recall my puzzlement over the cupped flower at the top of the wand of more expected gloves. I was just reading up and found that it is typical of Digitalis purpurea ‘Monstrosa’.

This Verbascum is another volunteer, so I can’t tie down its identity any further.

I’m not sure these could even be called spires (they are pretty fluffy), but they do reach for the sky, and they sure do inspire me. So what about you? Are there spires in your garden? What are they, and how do you use them?

Talk about your unassuming little flower: Liriope would probably never make its way into a post if it were not for the paucity of bloomers in mid-November.

Wet fallen leaves are a more likely sight, with northern sea oats shuddering in the wind in the foreground, refusing to come into focus.

The hardy fuchsia ‘Golden Gate’ is hardy indeed. It is holding on long after most have succumbed to cold, rain and wind.

I usually allow the Hydrangeas to dessicate on the bush, becoming lacy shadows of their former selves. This is ‘Limelight’ going the rusty pink, with ‘Preziosa’ turning a complementary rose to sepia behind her.

See the tassel of buds forming on Mahonia ‘Arthur Menzies’? It has done that every year, then been frozen so that I never get to see that wonderful burst of blossoms. If you are longing to see a riot of color provided by blooming plants, you will have to visit other parts of the world. No problem: Carol, of May Dreams Gardens can transport you there via the magic carpet that is the internet.

And now to the “other stuff”. We were working on tidying up an espaliered firethorn the other day when R said “come over here…you gotta see this.” He held the shrubbery aside while I took the picture. Notice how distended the abdomen is. Isn’t it the wrong time of year for any creature to give birth? A raucous scrub jay was kicking up quite a fuss in that area once we moved on to something else. I hope he didn’t make a meal of Ms Mantis.

You may remember the troubles we were having with rodents tunneling into the roots of newly planted treasures. Our latest solution is to build wire cages for special plants going into open ground. It’s a lot of extra work, so it tends to hold down the flagrant purchasing of new plants…they have to be worth it. The new berm I am working on will have wire mesh at its base. The sound emitting devices seem to be slowing down the lawn damage, but we’re not taking any chances with Rhododendron ‘Ebony Pearl’ shown above.

Now just take a gander at what I filled my pockets with on my walk this morning. There are about five different kind of mushrooms here. They look and smell like the varieties I remember from childhood. Referring to the Peterson field guide to mushrooms is only minimally helpful…hard to find an exact match for any of them. Here’s what I have been doing: take a tiny taste of one style, holding it on my tongue to let the flavor develop and see if there are any superficial ill effects. If no problems have surfaced…yes, I swallow. I still feel fine these three or so hours later, so I am planning to feast on wild mushrooms this evening. Wish me luck.

Tucked way in the Sellwood-Moreland district, just a little north of Tacoma on 13th Ave., all ye home cooks and gardeners (not to mention candle makers, home brewers. etc. etc.) will find a treasure in Portland Homestead Supply Co.

As soon as I stepped through the door, I was struck by the quality of the goods on display. They steer away from electronic gadgets in favor of the tried and true (note the bright red hand-crank meat grinder on the nearest table). These are items that can pass for artifacts. Indeed, they raise the homely arts of home making to an art form. All of the standard jars for canning and pickling are here, but for just a little bit extra, you can buy jars that will turn your kitchen’s yummy output into gourmet gift items to make you proud. I was drawn to some stainless steel pie pans…anticipating the delight they would bring to turning out pies and quiches.

Need a little help getting started? Many subjects are covered in their book section.

On a mezzanine overlooking the main room is a large table where classes are held. Be sure to check out the class schedule on their website if you would like to try something new with a little hands-on help. See that “fresh eggs” sign on the mantle? It is not just for show. I was there on a Friday, when fresh farm eggs had just been delivered. There were duck eggs as well as huge chickens eggs and teeny tiny ones. Once you have tried eggs straight from the farm you will never go back.

Several small rooms off the classroom hold different categories of merchandise. This one had aprons and various linens, all with that homey feel executed with a modern twist. While I was there, a woman came in with oven mitts she had made using flour sacks handed down in her family. I’m not sure any of that batch will make it to the showroom floor, the way employees were snatching them up. Don’t worry: she will be back with more.

This drying rack folds flush to the wall when it is not in service.

All the makings for candles, including an interesting array of molds (bottom shelves), and an instructional book. I think taking the class would be a fun way to get into this.

Just as I was about to pay up and take my leave, someone mentioned that there were garden related items out the side door.

Have you ever seen a sweeter looking goat? It was unclear to me if this was Wendell or Belle, but the pair of Nigerian dwarf goats provide endless entertainment, keep the grounds clear of blackberry vine and, if all goes according to plan, will provide some frolicking kids come spring.

They share the yard with chickens and ducks, all roaming freely…

the only restraints being good looking fencing treatments that block off the alleys on both sides of the shop.

As with everything else, the room holding soil amendments and tools is spick and span, and the displays are as attractive as they are utilitarian. Those galvanized bins hold all sorts of soil amendments, even hard-to-find things like Jersey Greensand…all available in bulk or in 5# bags. Now it really was time to shove off, and I found myself chomping at the bit to get back to my kitchen and garden.

My plan was to take you up and down Mississippi Ave in North Portland today, then focus on a few of the shops in subsequent posts. Then I visited danger garden and was reminded that Pam has declared October “support your local independent nursery month”. So I am reshuffling the order and taking you straight to Pistils. With a name like that and a building as colorful, quirky and inviting as the one pictured above, I can’t imagine anyone walking right on by without checking it out.

As you approach the entrance, a wrought-iron fence allows a glimpse into the yard, which stretches down one side and into the back.

To get there, you must enter through the shop

…where an artist’s eye is everywhere in evidence.

It’s a gift shop; it’s a plant haven; it’s an idea factory…and we haven’t even stepped outside yet.

But when we do, we find that all outdoor plants are 25% off. Even at this late date, there are plenty of unusual and hard-to-find offerings… like medlars (where else have you seen those for sale?)

Even the chicken coop has a boatload of charm. In the spring there are baby chicks for sale. Summers, the birds are loose among the plants. On this visit they were contentedly cooped up and clucking softly.

This is a small gem of a place that delivers big in satisfaction and intrigue. I would be hard-pressed to name a favorite favorite, but Pistils would definitely be in my “elite class”.

Things are heating up slowly (color-wise, that is) as temperatures dip and flowers fade.

The witch hazel will catch fire soon, but as it works up to it the subtle changes keep me fascinated.

I love the mixture of leaves on the Cotinus that have reached shades of orange amid many that are still summer’s deep purple.

Beauty berries have plumped up and turned bright, pearly purple, set against a backdrop of dwarf heavenly bamboo. What a show!

If I had hips like Ms Rosa ‘Dortmand’, I’d be sashaying around showing them off too.

I look forward to the day when I can divide Panicum ‘Heavy Metal’ and his nearby sister, ‘Shenandoah’ so their late-season seedheads can create a haze against the dark trees in the background. That’s what keeps us going, isn’t it? Visions of joys to come.

Speaking of seedheads, these tall wands of bronze beads catch the light in such a way that they must remain standing, even though it means much groveling to eradicate the gazillions of progeny.

Failure to deadhead the tree peony ‘Gold Sovereign’ led to this. I think I may embrace sloth as a general gardening technique.

Joe Pye continues to endear himself. Who dared to call him a weed?

The light shining through Cryptomerica japonica ‘Sekkan Sugi’ gives you some idea of how we prize it for the bright spot it provides through the darkest days of winter.

The mix of different sweet potato vines planted in a pot creates a nice tapestry.

This shot is all about texture, and foliage that will stay looking good on into the winter months. That ground cover is Rubus pantalobus ‘Creeping Berry’, and I can’t say enough good things about it. It has really covered ground, keeps the weeds out, and provides a deep green textural background for bright companions like this Verbascum.

Here’s another groundcover that I like a lot. My wintergreen was getting overshadowed by other stuff, so I dug it up and transplanted about five plants. Only one has survived and is looking great and spreading…go figure. This shot is sort of out-of-focus, but I find that I like the effect. Apologies to all real photographers.

Usually Pam over at Digging hosts a gathering of bloggers talking about foliage on the 16th of each month, the day after Garden Bloggers’ Bloom Day. I don’t see it happening there today, but her blog is always worth visiting, no matter what she has up her sleeve.

In case you didn’t know, I wrote a book about getting bitten by the gardening bug and the revelations and little observations that came with that new pastime (some might call it an obsession).

You can order one at the sneak preview price by clicking here. Or, if you just want to know “Why the goofy title?”, the first few paragraphs tell that story, and are included on the order page.

A couple of blogging buddies have written reviews. To read what they have to say, go to Danger Garden and Gardening With Grace. If you haven’t already discovered these two excellent gardener/writers, you are in for a treat when you browse through their blogs.

Please let me know if you would like to be in the loop for notifications of related events like readings, signings, etc. Just leave a comment here, including your email address. I promise not to bombard you with missives…just the occasional update when something new happens.

We wait, and we watch, and we even name some of the tomatoes, as they seem to be as slow to develop as a human child.

Think that sounds crazy? Meet Estelle, a tomato with not only personality, but, um… attitude.

And then, all of a sudden, we are bombarded with an avalanche of tomatoes…among other things. Today was spent putting up tomato sauce, with Norah Jones on the stereo and anticipation of opening a jar of summer deep in January. But the first, the juiciest, the most perfect of the early (all things are relative) arrivals was ceremoniously made into BLT’s. The base was Dave’s Killer Bread, lightly toasted. I must indulge in an aside about this bread,made by an ex-con who puts his story on every package, along with the slogan: “Just say NO to BREAD ON DRUGS”. Slather Dave’s “Powerseed” with Best Food’s Real Mayonnaise and pile on thick slabs of home-grown tomato, pepper bacon from the butcher shop, fried until crispy, and a generous pile of lettuce. We wait all year for this, and, in my book, it beats out turkey at Thanksgiving, or any other seasonal treat you can dream up.

Visit Wendy for the Garden to Table Challenge to see what others are doing with the season’s bounty.

The fall sale is always calmer than the one in the spring, but this scene at the check-out tables at around 11:30 in the morning was shocking. I have been hearing from friends in the biz that they are just hanging on. The last couple of harsh winters could be discouraging late season splurges as well.

There were quite a few plants in the holding area, but normally there would be people three deep waiting to claim their plants. When I worked in holding, we quickly ran out of designated spaces and had to improvise. I had arrived with firm resolve to resist coming home with a bunch of stuff that would need babying through the winter. I’m going to mark my weakness up to a spirit of largesse in helping to keep these growers growing. On the bright side, there were parking spaces close by (in the shade, no less) and it was easy to chat up the vendors about plants of interest.

Case in point: this fascinating flower was in a booth selling “succulents”, a frustrating generality to those of us who are drawn to this large and varied category. Let’s back up and take a look at the whole plant.

Talking to the woman who was overseeing the booth, I learned that it is a Stepelia, and that this large, blooming specimen with the $25 price tag started a year ago as a plant this size:

for a mere $4.

So on my way home I stopped by Garden Fever to pick up a pot for it. It will be overpotted, as directed, so I am expecting some of those op art flowers to show up next year. I was sure there was more to the name, so I Googled it and found several photos that looked like the very flower, but with different names: Stapelia planiflora? Stapelia lepida?. I also learned that the common name is carrion flower or starfish flower. Then I made the connection: James, over at Lost in the Landscape had written about the stench emanating from carrion flowers…oops. I didn’t notice an odor around the booth, so maybe this is a less offensive variety. Loree has a much better picture on her blog about the sale. I promise I won’t be as long-winded about the rest of my swag.

Acca sellowiana, or Pineapple Guava is Zone 6-9, but it will live in a bigger pot on the front deck until early spring.

As will Drimys lanceolata or Mountain Pepper, a Zone 7 evergreen shrub from Dancing Oaks Nursery.

The coloring on Drimys is a lot like the Madrones, with the deep red stems.

Luzula sylvatica ‘Aurea’ is billed as Zone 5, so it is going into the ground.

Saxifraga ‘Whitehill’

And finally, a little trio of proven winners, Verbascum ariaphaenum, Selaginella krausseana ‘Aurea’ and Cornus canadensis, back there in the dark.

Our cheapo hummingbird feeder had outlived its usefulness. At one time, it had effectively foiled the ants attracted to the sweet nectar, but now they were back and the results were fairly disgusting. At our local one-stop-shopping center, I found this glass ball feeder. It is better than the kind with the feeder tube, because several birds can use it simultaneously. My experience has also been that the rubber nipples on those tubes have a tendency to fall off, letting the nectar drip into a big, messy, sticky puddle. On the same shelf as the feeder was a baffle device to repel ants (it’s the green thing at the top). Guess what? It works!..at least, so far.

We have tried several methods to protect the goldfish from marauding raccoons. The water lily pads and duckweed give them places to hide, but lately the raccoons have taken to feasting on the lilies. The small stakes placed across the pond are not about to prevent them from having their salad course, but by disturbing the stakes, they signal to the fish to swim for cover. So far, they have avoided becoming the entree.

I have written here about our many pacifist efforts to come to terms with wild visitors. Gophers, on the other hand, have been known to drive the gentlest of souls to acts of revenge. It is only in the last couple of years that they have shown up here. Neighbors who have lived here for 30+ years say that it is a new problem. Our yards look like the battlefield after a cannonade.

The Pinus mugo ‘White Bud’ is not the first precious plant to fall victim. When something begins to look a bit peaked, we can be pretty sure that when we dig it up we will find the root system eaten away. Sometimes we will find just the tip of a plant showing where the rest of it has been pulled down into the villain’s tunnel.

Last time we went to Portland Nursery, we picked up one of the sound devices advertised to drive rodents mad (or at least drive them AWAY).

Four D size batteries go into that white tube, which is then inserted into the black tube. The whole thing gets buried in the ground and capped off with that green lid, emitting a high-pitched sound that goes undetected by all but the target varmints for the life of the batteries. It has been successful enough to prompt the purchase of four more, to keep at least the areas close to the house from looking like a war zone. When we first googled the problem, we laughed off many of the suggested remedies as far too violent. As conflict escalated, we found ourselves praising the cats for their hunterly instincts. Yesterday, I caught sight of R oiling and cleaning his .22

Michelle of Jockey Hill Nursery gave us a Magnolia grandiflora, which we planted before we even moved in. That means it has been in the ground  for eight years.

Now lookee here! See it? Right up there near the top, on the left…a flower! The tree still has the look of gangly youth, but the first blossom is cause for celebration. Let’s zoom in for a better look:

It is slightly past its prime, just because I had given up on watching after so many promising buds had proven to be tightly furled leaves. It reminds me of losing sets of keys: it is only after one has expended the time and cash to replace them that they show up in some perfectly obvious spot. Back in 2009, Roy Lancaster told a funny story about waiting for a magnolia to bloom. I wrote about it here. He waited ten years, so I guess our little tree is something of a prodigy. I get all loopy imagining what future years will bring.