taraxacum pseudoroseum
With disproportionate excitement I’d like to announce the blooming of my special special pink dandelion. I started it from seed last year but this is the first time it has bloomed. Dandelions are perennials, who knew?! Oh how I’d love for my yard to be infested with these, but I’d need to nurture all the yellow dandelions too since I can’t tell them apart.
In this year’s gingerbread story, candy Jess was in her yard happily sticking colorful sprinkles on her gumdrop shrubbery when a freak snowstorm can along and RUINED EVERYTHING.
Matt and I have started a somewhat annual tradition of making gingerbread houses. I like to incorporate concept and narrative as I think about what to do. This year, I decided to build my own house.
I was most focused on my candy garden. I included my gumdrop arborvitae and candy cane Ilex crenata. And window boxes. The window boxes were a critical element. It appears that they are petunias and portulaca made of sprinkles and Nerds. The houses took around sixteen hours, but I could have spent many more adding more details and more candy plants.
It’s a condensed version of the side to conserve gingerbread, that’s why there’s only three candy cane sky pencils.
There was extensive discussion of gingerbread house ideology. Matt thought gingerbread houses should always live in winter, but I insisted that mine exists in June. The last step is always a festive powdered sugar snowstorm which hides all imperfections. This year was no different, you can’t fight the inevitable. So I made a sad gumdrop me, as sad about winter as real me. The End.
FoS 2018
Flowers of Sadness. The 2019 collection:
Reb 6/4
Stacey 6/4
José 7/12
Jessica 8/16
Ricky 8/11
Sarah 9/6
As noted earlier, the yard makes seeds for free. And since they would otherwise just plant themselves they are perfect for lazy (and/or busy) people. When I started writing out names and descriptions on the envelopes to send some to a friend, I decided it would be easier and more amusing to make labels instead. I’m kind of proud of my lazy logo for my new lifestyle brand.
After skipping last year, a mini Flowers vs the Frost was once again celebrated this October. Writing about it now at the end of November, it is hard to imagine that the world was ever so colorful.
This impromptu affair convened at Studio Big Rock in Tiverton, RI. We experimented with using the colors of New England foliage. Foliage is probably the only thing more colorful here than in Mexico. Being able to wander around the yard and into the woods to gather colors and textures led to some new discoveries.
There are many variables that make planning tricky - weather, wind, and well, the frost. But there is a renewed enthusiasm that definitely will bring about a larger celebration for 2020.
enthusiasm is always beautiful
flowers = pretty
After a while clichés get boring. Inspiration sometimes comes from unexpected places, and lately I’ve been intrigued by the ugly. And noticing it in more and more places.
First, there was the man garden down the street with a dangerous combination of clashing coleus. Then the mortgage company near my gym. An oddly consistent display every year. Clearly the landscapers’ choice, but why these particular plants? There’s the lavish planters of the City of Providence, watered by a team scooting around in a specially modified golf cart tanker truck. Not a color combination I’d ever choose and always something bizarre thrown in like that one stray lantana. I admire the care they take, but who is the mastermind?
I have quite a few secret pinterest boards with garden ideas that are not bound by the pesky limitations of when and where they would bloom.
The breeders have been doing some interesting work in their petunia laboratories. Multiple colors at the same time. Purple-orange, brown-cream, rust-mustard, chartreuse-orange-brown.
Some more selections from Chelsea. I must posses this lupine. The campfire coleus are surprising and a little bit unnerving choice tucked in with overly cheery pinks. I think unnerving will something I aspire to from now on.
les fleurs of paris - flowers on almost every balcony
les fleurs of ‘murica - a few obligatory petunias floating in a sea of mulch with a misshapen shrub
After London was the chunnel to Paris, since we were practically in the neighborhood. Paris - the ideal-est city of all idealized cities. The authentic source of all the inauthentically distressed home decor. It was okay. But something that really stood out to me was that they really genuinely care about flowers. All around the city there were flowers, on the balconies, in front of stores, in city parks.
Jardin des Plantes is the public botanical garden, surrounded by the various galeries of Muséum national d'histoire naturelle. (I’ll say this about France- when it comes to natural history museums, they win.) It’s not like any of the others I’ve been to. It was established in 1635 but has a surprisingly modern vibe, different than other scientific botanical gardens or elaborate formal gardens like Versailles (which sadly was not on the agenda).
The really really long central avenue was lined by impressively long rows of plants. This epic wall of orange poppies had a few artfully imperfect reds and pinks mixed in.
I was most impressed by these borders, also in rows as long as the poppies. Such exciting combinations, kind of what I would do with unlimited resources! Cardoons with kale gone to flower? The internet didn’t even know how to make that happen, all the articles were on how to prevent it from bolting.
The rose garden, with 170 varieties, at peak bloom. Accompanied by some very french sculptures.
The iris garden had two workers busy removing the flowers that were gone by, for peak perfectness.
Late May was really the ideal time to visit. Full bloom of the most impressive bits but also a chance to see the process. There was something especially exciting seeing how it all happens, a number of the beds were still being prepared. It makes it more real. My most important takeaway though is that I need a team of gardeners. Actually, not just any gardeners, but a dozen more of me.
It is my opinion that if your flat is worth over a million pounds your shrubs should not be plastic.
instagramtastic
In 2017 I went to the Philadelphia Flower Show, which is supposed to be the best one in these parts. The main attractions were huge installations, flower covered windmills, bridges, hundreds of flowers suspended from the ceiling. It was fun.
This year, I took the ultimate pilgrimage to the Chelsea Flower Show. Chelsea was very different. Hardcore. There were vendors and show gardens and yard decorations, but the main attraction was basically a live catalog of every single variety of every single plant. All the lupines, begonias, fuchsias, canna, dianthus, irises, dahlias, roses, delphinium, hostas, bougainvillea, mums, gladiolas, dahlias, heucheras, primula and more more more. It was amazing. How are they all in bloom at the same time? This is one of life’s great mysteries. It was probably for the best that I couldn’t bring them back on the plane.
My favorite day of the year has finally arrived. The first trip to the garden center of the year is as exciting for me as Christmas morning is for normal people. This special holiday is observed the Friday before Mother’s Day, when the greenhouses are filled with the most perfect bountiful buffet of plants before they get picked over by all those mothers. The place is Frerichs Farm in Warren, RI.
2nd and 3rd generation rosenkranz garden obsessives consider their options
REASONS THEY’RE BEST:
They are very nice people running a family farm.
The plants cost like half of what they cost at all the other garden centers. So one can either save 50% or buy twice as many plants. (twice as many plants!)
At the big box stores they feed the plants weird combinations of growth retardants and hormones. This is so they stay at a compact height to fit on the racks and bloom unnaturally early so people will buy them. Initially they look good but then stay the same size for months, finally shaking it off and thriving just in time for the frost. I’m all for chemicals that make the plants better, not worse. Mr. Frerich would never do this to his plants.
There are peacocks! Everyone likes peacocks.
2016-2019
For fellow alternative-garden enthusiasts, I would highly recommend the instagram of Shit Gardens. It is a delightful compendium of questionable landscaping decisions, outsider topiary art, plants that look like body parts, unfortunate juxtapositions, terrifying playground equipment, venus flytraps smoking cigarettes and other unnatural interactions between humans and the natural world. Welcome bits of authenticity in an overwhelming stream of perfect pretty things.
It’s that time of year again. The catalogs arrive in droves. They all live on the kitchen table and I meander through them every morning while I eat my breakfast. It will be time to make some decisions soon, but I have very specific philosophies when it comes to seeds.
Mainly, I don't coddle them. I don't start them in January in toasty little pots and cater to their individual little whims of light and soil and temperature and fertilizer and timing. I put them in the ground. I water them. If they grow, they grow. If they don't grow, I don't buy them again. If you are also lazy but still want to make lots of plants for almost free, here are my recommendations:
June 18 • September 16
COSMOS: I prefer mine in cupcake format, but they come in many flavors. The foliage is frilly and tall with flowers at the top, so plant them behind the other things.
June 21 • August 9
ZINNIAS: As previously discussed, probably the most varied and impressive of the lot. Benary’s Giants that grow into compact shrubs. Mixed up Persian Carpets and Aztec Sunsets. Muted gradients of the Queens. Speckled Peppermint Sticks, fluffy Cactus, more Cupcakes, and the ones that just look like zinnias. The best feature is that most of the blooms change color as they age, so there’s always a pleasing and harmonious range of color no matter which palette you choose.
MARIGOLDS: Easy marigold madness. They practically grow into shrubs. I could have replaced the whole lawn with marigolds for approximately $11 in seeds. Some varieties smell nice and spicy, some smell like cat pee, I can never remember which is which. Good for diy Día de los Muertos celebrations.
If you want to make lots of plants for all the way free (self-seeding):
TIGER LILIES: The tiger lillies are champs. Other fancier lilies, not so much. Within a few years one plant turns into a row of plants. They get better every year, the oldest ones are now as tall as me. Another bonus is that their seeds are relatively heavy so instead of blowing around they drop and form nice clusters.
4 O’CLOCKS: For a bit of tropical flavor the magenta ones absolutely glow. I started with a mix of pink and yellow (within each flower. like two colors of play-doh mushed together), but since yellow was not allowed in that zone I pulled them all out and within a few years had solid pink. Last year I tried Salmon Sunset, less vibrant but pleasing nonetheless. Don’t fall for the Angel’s Trumpet, the flowers look amazing in the photo but the plant itself is a floppy, oddly sticky mess.
ASCLEPIA TUBEROSA (butterfly weed): I see them in catalogs for $14 a plant, those who purchase them are suckers. Just throw a few seeds on the ground and by August you can start your own Asclepia empire. They have milkweed-like seed pods so the seeds do fly around the yard a bit, but are not aggressive and are easily relocated or pulled up. They are starting to make them in different colors, which is very exciting. Deadhead compulsively for blooms through the fall.
MALLOW: Year one - 2 plants. Year two - 200 plants. I was pulling these things out of the lawn all summer but they’re just so lovely that it was worth it. Stake them or chop them back to keep them from falling over. They even come in an an assortment of colors and according to this article are good for everything from salads to melancholy to aphrodisiacs (I do not vouch for any of that).
MORNING GLORIES: One morning glory becomes infinite morning glories. Beware. Keep them away from the lawn. They are perfect for covering things like unsightly fences. The daily weaving of tendrils around posts and railings is quite meditative.
While the amount of data collected on us is disturbing in ways that cannot not even be imagined yet, I do prefer to see ads for things I might be interested in. Instagram does an especially good job of this, and admittedly I’ve purchased several of the things they’ve deduced I would. But a new ad has been aggressively following me around the internet on every device lately. They must really think they’re going to wear me down. It is called Aggressively Organic.
Aggressively Organic Inc. is Public Benefits Corporation on a mission to end food insecurity in our lifetime by creating the most sustainable, easy to use, inexpensive, most productive growing systems in the world.
lovely design though
WTF! ‘End food insecurity‘? This is madness. For $140 you get 9 cardboard boxes, 27 soil discs and a grow light (there’s some pretty highly rated ones on amazon starting at $20). But the concept is even more insane! You can grow one lettuce plant per box. So once every 30 days you have enough lettuce for a salad? And eggplants or squash!? They’re showing an unnamed variety of white eggplants that look similar to the ones I like to grow. Even in poor soil mine grow at least 4’ tall x 2’ wide and need sturdy stakes to keep them upright. But I’m supposed to believe I can grow them in a dixie cup on my kitchen counter? Herbs? Yes. Sprouts? Yes. A really compact tomato plant? Possibly. Not squash. It also seemed crazy to me that even though Instagram can get pretty mean, there were no negative comments. So I’m the only person on the internet that feels this way, but I’m strongly standing by my position. I think this is more indicative of the fact that people are so far removed from growing food that they don’t know any better.
Plants are fun. Growing them is fun. Just knock it off with the misleading and self righteous rhetoric.
look! miracle-gro has their own version with a special $300 designer miracle-gro table!
snake plant did not really enjoy its outdoor summer vacation
In other news this week, an article in The Atlantic finally debunked the rumor that houseplants are magic air purifiers.
The science is clear: Indoor vegetation doesn’t significantly remove pollutants from the air.
My snake plant barely seems alive. How could it possibly be sucking toxins out of the air, performing some sort of magic voodoo and then pumping out clean fresh air? There’s not that much to say. It doesn’t. That’s okay, I still love you snake plant.
Science-1; Internet Listicles-0.
Matt and I have done the floral arrangements for a few weddings of family and friends. People say 'you should do weddings,' and a life surrounded by beautiful flowers is briefly pondered.
Then one is reminded that flowers are alive. That they aren't always in season despite what pinterest says. That sometimes the world runs out of peonies. That the definition of the color coral is very subjective, so when you open that fedex box with $250 worth of roses you really really hope they won't be orange. (They weren't, they were perfect. Thumbs up to Fifty Flowers.) Nope. Too stressful. Weddings remain a strictly recreational activity.
Then there was the bouquet I put together for the lovely wedding of my friend Kerry and her husband Josh. The wedding was casual, fun, and had amazing food, without all the drama and updos of other weddings. With the exception of one artichoke flower, a stem of chinese lanterns and a few hydrangeas it was gathered from the edges of the church parking lot. I was terrified that I accidentally picked some poison ivy. But of all of them this was my favorite. No weddings are on the horizon, but I think this fueled my expanding enthusiasm for making arrangements.
apology accepted.
A few years ago I got a surprise winter delivery of delightful yellow tulips. They were a Sorry My Mom Is Causing Drama bouquet. There’s usually a very narrow window of occasions to send flowers, and that really needs another look. But the point is, flowers make people happy, especially when they’re unexpected. In the past two years or so I’ve really gotten into making weird arrangements. And since I put all this effort into making flowers, I like to share them.
I have a friend who works at a large corporate office, where I also used to work. He drives by my house on his way there, so I occasionally send along The Flowers of Sadness. He gives them to the saddest person he can find, and makes their day a little bit better. My goal next year is to use the whole mason jar 12-pack. Fortunately there’s never a shortage of sad people there.
Chris 6/1
Ed 6/18
Rita 8/3
Crystal 8/21
Talia 9/17
Ricky 9/24
there’s a seahorse hiding in every room
My most recent trip to visit the sun in Miami was colder than expected. So after we tired of sitting on a windy beach huddled under blankets, we moved on to other activities. We ended up at Vizcaya, the summer estate of the eccentric farm equipment magnate James Deering. Built in 1914, the design philosophy was to import everything fancy from all of European history to make it look like the house had been there for generations. The effectiveness of this strategy is debatable, but I appreciated the way the designer hacked priceless pieces together to make them fit, like a religious painting from the 1600s that was cut in half to cover a pair of doors.
these children were super excited about the Chinoiserie Bedroom
In addition to the epic and ‘exuberant’ formal gardens, the landscape included: a stone pirate-ship/dance-party island, a rustic knee-high shrub maze for ‘contemplating’, assorted vignettes of disparate sculpture styles, a fashion photo shoot, and lots of cute little lizards. Also, these amazing lily pads 💕. I want to acquire a pond and collect them all.
Now back to designing my eccentric millionaire dream garden…
2018 WINNERS
Lantana/Calendula Corner: Located in the hottest, driest corner of the yard, surrounded by concrete and watered exclusively by dog pee, was happiest lantana I’ve ever grown. An honorable mention goes to the surrounding calendula, still blooming through Thanksgiving and 5 inches of snow. It doesn’t look good, but it still looks orange, which is impressive. #didntcatchanydogsonmylawn #technicallytheyarepeeingfromthesidewalk
Globe Amaranth (Gomphrena): Grew from seed into large abundant plants. No deadheading needed, each flower lasts for the entire season. Cute and perky. Dries well if you’re into that sort of thing. #balls!
All The Zinnias: As noted earlier, queen zinnias n’ friends mixed together were a cocktail of zinnia goodness. #theweirdoneisastrawflower
Verbena bonariensis: Self seeding, (aka free), these offspring from last year’s plant were growing mostly in the crack between the driveway and the garage slab. Transplanted without complaint they thrived in a desert zone where the hose doesn’t reach, creating a 20’ purple cloud. #nextyeartherewillbehundredsofthem
2018 LOSERS
Honeywort: I was expecting the one on the left, I got the one on the right. I don’t know what its problem was. Too hot? Too sunny? Too shady? Didn’t like eggplant neighbors? #mostdisappointingdisappointment
This Mess: In my defense, I didn’t think about it ahead of time. But for the City Tree Garden I carefully created this red/pink/orange/yellow gradient with the leftover plants from the annual spring shopping frenzy. There were some miscalculations. This photo is from August but it just got more terrible and lopsided and marigoldy until the frost finally put it out of its misery. #stillbetterthanalltheothercitytrees
Lisa Frank Window Boxes: They were supposed to be a tribute to my childhood trapper keeper. It was moderately successful. Some good moments but all the plants refused to be happy at the same time. Considered moving all the good ones to one box for winner photo op, but didn’t. It did better than last year’s Unicorn Swirl boxes, all 3 boxes are now variations on a theme instead of all matching. This amuses me. #theresalwaysnextyear
Rosé is having a bit of a moment. Once viewed as a a bit on the trashy side, recent attention from winemakers has rebranded it as a fun girls-night-out type of wine. The new Cosmo. In fact, I even had the pleasure of visiting Rosé Mansion in New York, a delightful Instagram dreamworld which is a story for another time. Back home enjoying a glass in my garden I realized that I had unintentionally cultivated the Rosé Garden.
yum.
While other parts of the garden have assigned colors/themes and a collection of compliant perennials, the pots, window boxes, and one bed in center of the backyard are exclusively annuals. Something new every year. Inspired by the newly available Queen Lime Orange and its lovely friend Zinderella peach, I decided to plant all the Queens. Queen Lime Red, Queen Lime Blush, even plain ol' Queen Lime. Plus some apricots and senorita pinks. Salmon four o'clocks. Pink Surprise calendula. All the Apricot/Peach and Silvery Rose strawflowers. The intention was a pinkish/peachish/blushist/salmonish/yellowish/limeish gradient, all mixed up together. It was pretty successful. The four o'clocks just need to be constantly cut back so they don't crush everyone else. Realizing that they were the timely color of Rosé - with hints of grapes and chardonnay and even a bit of merlot - felt like such a victory. Subconscious trend prediction. The Rosé Garden was meant to be.
the standouts: queen lime blush that appears to be glowing from the lavender center, and possibly a zinderella peach with perfect heart-shaped petals edged with a delicate blush pink.
Containers are for impulse buys and experiments. I would probably be attracted to the same things over and over, so new themes are a challenge to try something different.
Inspired by a Hulk-pants-purple verbena, Superheroes are the theme for this year's back steps container array. To be continued...