Whatever the Weather...

We had some stormy weather come through on Monday.  It wasn't as bad as originally predicted, but the first line of clouds that came through had some of that "bubbly" look that is simultaneously beautiful and frightening.

Another round of storms is popping up today (very hit and miss), but then we're in for days of dry air, clear skies, sunshine, and cooler temperatures.  It's supposed to get down to the very low 40s for a night or two, so I might try to protect the tender growth of a few semi-tropical plants from a light chill.  Most things will be on their own.  There's only so much I can do, once they get to a certain size.

Mountain Laurel

Spring Randomness

While doing some outdoor chores with Donald this Saturday, I was excited to see a daylily bud that was clearly on the verge of opening.  (It's beginning-- daylily season!!)

First thing Sunday, I peeked out the window, spied the prize, and took the camera out to snap an early-morning photo of the official First Daylily Bloom (in my garden) of 2017.  I probably should've waited a bit longer, because it hadn't even fully opened yet, but forgive my impatience-- I was excited!

For curiosity's sake, I checked my daylily album on Flickr and discovered that I uploaded my first daylily photo of 2016 significantly later in the month-- on April 20th.  (The one above was taken on April 2nd.)  I also happened to see a picture of what must have been the same plant (the flowers look identical to me, at least).  Last year, it was blooming on May 2nd!  Are we really that far ahead of schedule?

The downside to daylilies blooming early is that (I assume) they'll probably be finished early, too.  Looking for a positive, maybe it also means that the summer-long bloomers will last even longer than usual.  (Really must get those zinnia seeds sown.  I want zinnias this year!!)

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There aren't as many of them as there were (probably need to start more from seed, sometime), but there are a few blanket flowers dotting the garden here and there.  I'm still torn between admiration of their hearty good looks and uncertainty that they "go" with many of their neighboring flowers (in springtime shades of blue, purple and pink, usually).

The bog sage (Salvia uliginosa) has lived up to its reputation as a spreader.  This spring, it's coming up in all directions around the mother plant.  I've taken up some starts of the plant to give away, and I've moved some to other parts of my own garden, too.  Here's a bit recently transplanted to the Oval Bed.  It seems to recover quickly.

Yellow flag iris has been blooming around the yard.  Not all of it, but a bloom here, a bloom there.  Maybe some of it doesn't flower because I keep messing with it-- mainly digging it up before it has a chance to settle in, because I'm trying to remove (manually, whenever possible) the horrible torpedo grass that has wormed its way into certain beds.  It might also be simply because they're too young/small to bloom, but I've also read that this is one of those irises that needs to be planted shallowly, so maybe (when I get around to it) I'll lift them up a bit higher and see if that produces results...

I know they're weeds to some people, but (so far) they're not pests in my yard, and I like them.  (I probably wouldn't put them right next to my daintiest, most well-behaved herbaceous perennials, though.  They do seem likely to boss and push.)

The last trees to get their leaves in our yard are the two ashes and one particular oak (the identity of which I do not remember, though I got it as a seedling, some Arbor Day of the past however-many years).  The bald cypress is also slow in sprouting its needles, but as you can see, even it is now covered in feathery new growth:

Marigolds have volunteered in one of the raised vegetable beds.  Some survived the recent weeding, raking, and top-dressing-- including this one that prudently "chose" to grow in one of the cells of the cinder blocks that serve as retaining walls for the beds.

'Blue Bedder' salvia has exceeded my expectations for a plant so often described as "short-lived".  It dies back over the winter, but is quick to spring back up again at the slightest provocation of sunshine and mild weather.

I've bought another packet of seed, this year, in hopes of creating more pretty purple-blue salvias to fill in with, here and there.

The Mexican bush sage (Salvia leucantha) has begun to bloom.  I'd forgotten that it does that.  Around here, at least, it blooms best in late summer/early fall, but it also blooms in spring, before the summer heat really sets in.  I intend to take cuttings soon, as I'd like more of this plant, and the cuttings I planted later last summer don't seem to have had time to get established.  (They haven't made an appearance this year.)

I was still "in the process of" pruning these no-ID pink shrub roses back in my last "survey" post-- in late January.  I wondered if pruning them then, with signs of spring already in abundance, would mean no flowers for a while.  I guess it was a needless concern.  Those same roses have already bounced back to bud-stage!  They're smaller than when I pruned them, of course, but they're well on their way to decent shrub size.

The bushes I hadn't yet pruned in January are (predictably) a little further behind, but they're also showing no signs of suffering from their relatively late barbering.  Once again, I wish I knew for certain what rose this is, because it is by far the most carefree, foolproof rose I've yet to encounter.

Purple heart is getting prettier by the day.  Here it is beside Eucomis 'Twinkle Stars', which has more of a burgundy-green tint.

The unknown pink climber at the back of the house has just started to bloom.  One of the first flowers:

I think there may be fewer buds this year than there sometimes are.  It would probably benefit from some fertilizer, and I also need to get back there and pull some invaders, but I may wait until winter, because wasps are living in the shrubs nearby, and I don't relish the thought of getting into tight, thorny quarters where angry wasps may suddenly be inadvertently disturbed.  There could also be a snake hidden where I can't watch my step.  We saw a fast black snake (non-venomous) near the west-facing patio's trellis, just a day or two ago.

The diminutive red Mexican ruellia is getting started.  Last year, I successfully rooted a piece that is now in the Oval Bed.  I'd like to root another piece or two and try it in partial shade and richer soil.  Though it has returned for a couple of years, now, it has never really thrived where it's currently planted.

We haven't gotten much closer to painting the covered patio, but we did get a new pressure washer (the old one being extremely unreliable and faulty), which could be a step in the right direction...

Luna says "hi" and hopes that all eyes will be on her sweet little face and not the weeds that have been popping up through the mulch.  (A weeder's work is never done!)

Spring Bulbs (and Corms)

I wrote late last year about "impostor bulbs"-- Gladiolus italicus (Italian glads) sold under the guise of the rarer (and much more expensive) Gladiolus communis ssp. byzantinus (Byzantine glads).

The short version:  After I ordered what were labeled Byzantine gladiolus, I read enough about the subject to guess that they were not-- and when I received my order and examined the corms, that suspicion was confirmed.  The other main tidbit from that old blog entry?  If the corms are surprisingly affordable, they're not Byzantine gladioli.  Expect to reach deep in the pocketbook for the real deal.

I planted the corms anyway, in the hopes that they would still be pretty.  (It wasn't worth going through the hassle of returning them, even if it might have been possible.)

Fast forward a few months, and the Italian gladiolus had put up the typical gladiolus-type foliage-- swordlike, but narrower and of shorter stature than the typical hybrid glads.  Eventually, flower buds appeared-- the type that remind me of heads of grain, like the ones you'll find on crocosmia.

And then the first flowers opened.  Here's a photo from several days ago:

...And a couple of close-ups of the flowers...

They're not the brightest, boldest flowers I've ever seen... And they are pretty small...

But they're certainly not ugly, and I can imagine that as they multiply, they might put on a more impressive show.  The color is more intense on the outsides of the petals than on the inside:

Here are more photos, taken today.  As you can see, with more of the flowers open, they're already somewhat more impressive.

They're not show-stoppers, but they could make a nice addition to a spring flowerbed-- especially in a more casual or meadow-style garden.

The foliage and form remind me somewhat of crocosmia (the two are related), but instead of red, orange, or yellow, these are magenta.

So, the verdict... I would rather these had been Byzantine gladioli, which are larger and showier, but Italian gladioli are still pretty.  I'll be curious to see how they do in years to come-- how quickly they may multiply, for instance.  While they're not as impressive as the Byzantine variety, at least they're not as pale and sickly as some of the photos I've seen (posted by sellers comparing them unfavorably to the pricier ones on offer).

I can imagine giving in and ordering the Real Thing, at some point, if the opportunity presents itself and I can convince myself that it's a worthwhile splurge.  (Tallying up all the ways I save money and all the things I don't spend on usually helps ease the guilt long enough to place an order...)  However, I still feel scandalized that a single corm should cost so much.

The photo above is a portion of the Oval Bed (still no better name for it, alas), where you'll see (among other things) the Italian gladioli and another of the spring bulbs/corms I wrote about last year.  The pale blue/violet flowers at the base of the glad foliage are spring starflowers (Ipheion uniflorum).  I've posted pictures of some of them before this.

As I believe I've already mentioned, the first to bloom this year was 'Jessie', followed by 'Rolf Fiedler', followed by the species.  The ones in the photo above are the species, which are still blooming.  (The first two varieties have more or less finished, I think.)

These starflowers in the next photo I believe may be 'White Star', though they aren't quite as stark a white as they appear in many photos I've seen...

However, compared to the species (the photo below, taken several days back), they are whiter.  To tell the truth, I can't remember where I planted the 'White Star' bulbs, but I'm fairly confident I have these identified.  In that case, the last type to bloom was 'White Star'.

The "backs" of Ipheion uniflorum have these darker midribs/stripes down the center of each petal-- a subtle detail on such a small flower, but pretty, all the same.

I have been favorably impressed by these little plants, this year.  If they return and multiply for me, I'll be very pleased.  (They're supposed to do so, but I don't know anyone personally who has grown them around here, and there's always the chance they won't like our climate enough to come back reliably.)

Another type of bulb I was planting around the same time as the hardy glads and the spring starflowers was Spanish bluebell (Hyacinthoides hispanica).  I planted 'Excelsior' (blue or bluish-purple) and 'White City' (white).

Most went under the large loropetalum by the covered patio, but a few found spots on the other side of the patio, where they get more sun.  These have come up and flowered ever-so-slightly earlier than the shadier plants.

I'm surprised to see them blooming this early, as they are supposed to be late-spring bloomers-- but then, everything seems a little early this year.

I'm not sure how they're "supposed" to look when they first start blooming, as most photos (of course) show them at peak bloom.  I suspect that these might not be looking as good as they will in a few more days.  I'm trying to be happy that they've bloomed at all!

This last plant is not a spring-blooming bulb/corm, but I planted them this spring, so I decided to toss them into the mix of this blog post, too!

I was surprised at how long it was taking Crocosmia 'Lucifer' to come up, given that the orange crocosmia already in the yard (for years) had been up for weeks and weeks (months?).  Well, they're starting to emerge, now, and the Crocosmia 'George Davison' I planted much more recently didn't take so long to get started, as the first green swords of foliage have already shot up.

I would've been surprised if they didn't show up at all, because the crocosmia we already have are some of the most persistent plants I've ever grown-- but you never know how a named cultivar will behave, do you?  We'll have to wait a while before we see the flowers, but I hope some will make an appearance, later this year.

'Peggy Martin' Rose

Looking past some issues with leafspot, the 'Peggy Martin' climbing rose I planted last year is doing well.

Here it is several days ago:

And again this morning (so you can see how many more flowers have opened up since then)...

Many of the individual blooms are fading, but the over-all appearance (especially from a distance) is nice-- very cottage-garden and how you expect a rose-covered arbor to look.

Of course, this is only the beginning of its first full season in the garden, but this year it is out-performing the 'Joseph's Coat' on the other side.  (To be fair, 'Joseph's Coat' did well its first year, too...)

I don't have the best track record for starting roses from cuttings, but I intend to read a little about it and give it a try.  If I can get some to work, I think I'll move the 'Joseph's Coat' and try to get 'Peggy Martin' growing on the other side, too.

Though some describe it as lightly fragranced, I've yet to notice any fragrance at all (though I'll keep checking, as it does seem to vary with some plants, depending on time of year and other conditions).  On the plus side, it's supposed to bloom again in late summer/early fall.

It's best pruned in late winter/early spring, after the coldest weather is past.  Fortunately, this rose is nearly thornless, so it's not nearly so painful a process as it is to prune more prickly plants (ahem, 'Joseph's Coat').

Ghost Plant

Ghost plant (Graptopetalum paraguayense).

(Also known as mother-of-pearl plant and Sedum weinbergii.)

This is one of those plants I grew up seeing in my mother's and grandmother's gardens-- and that's where I got my start of ghost plant, too-- a big pot full of these tough succulents that look like flowers carved from stone...

I haven't always had the best of luck with it, though it is a very tough, hardy plant.  (I guess I've just been a little too neglectful, from time to time.  Maybe I haven't cut it back and replanted it, as you need to do every so often when it gets too leggy...)

The fact that it's come back time and again from a rough patch demonstrates how resilient it is.

Around here, it can take the hottest of the summer sun (though partial shade in the afternoon might help preserve their best looks), yet it can also live outdoors through our winters.  (I've gotten into the habit of moving it into the garage when I'm shifting around the tender plants, but I've come to wonder if it might be better off left alone.  Maybe I'll leave the bigger pots out, next winter.)

It's easily propagated from a leaf broken off the stem-- and they do fall off quite easily when bumped!

This is without doubt the easiest succulent I've grown, so far, and because it reminds me of family gardens from the past, I'm glad to think that I'll probably always have at least one pot of it growing somewhere...