Impulse purchases are rare for me, but this one I couldn't exist. It was already in bloom, which meant I could smell it... With Lady Hillingdon sadly deceased (through my own negligence), there was an open space on the deck... Since there are a whole buncha buds on this one, stay tuned for more photos.
Firstly, I must apologize for the lack of recent posts. I returned from a work trip to Asia (which went extremely well -- I could have happily spent six months there) only to end up deeply immersed at work. But at last, signs of spring are upon us. Now that the days are long enough for me to walk around the yard after work/the gym, I can finally inspect the plants on a more regular basis. The last few days have been the biggest change, with nearly all of the roses at various stages of leafing out. Eugene is in the lead, with multiple buds already formed and growing (in all honesty, this is stunning performance, as it had already leafed out three weeks ago with snow on the ground).…
If ever there was a sign of the degree to which I've been infected with rose fever, it's in the choices I made in varieties. How else can one explain using a chicken coop heater to stabilize the ambient temperature in a corner of the garage, thereby enabling the survival of certain cultivars that, ordinarily, would not be hardy in one's climate zone? As of yesterday, the most sensitive plants have emerge -- both having already started the process of leafing out, despite storage in total darkness. Papa Meilland is listed as hardy to 7b, which is exactly where I am. Since I only just received it last spring and want it to put on some size, the goal was zero winter dieback. [caption id="attachment_3874" align="alignnone" width="640"] Papa Meilland, in…
My posts and responses may get a bit sparse for a while, as this week I started an exciting new job. With the garden awaiting spring, it's also a time of waiting for most of the roses to leaf out. They are starting. But in the meantime I keep anticipating the third season of many in my collection. With any luck, last year will likely seem like a mere tease compared to what's coming. [caption id="attachment_3867" align="alignnone" width="640"] Abraham Darby[/caption] [caption id="attachment_3862" align="alignnone" width="640"] Papa Meilland[/caption] [caption id="attachment_3868" align="alignnone" width="640"] Young Lycidas[/caption]
This monster seedling is the Riviera strain of Cuore Di Bue, a pleated oxheart-type tomato from Italy, which I've never grown before and only ate for the first time on a pizza we had in Capri last September. It grew so quickly I wasn't able to graft it onto anything (none of the plants I started for rootstock came anything close to a compatible size). [caption id="attachment_3859" align="alignnone" width="640"] Cuore Di Bue, at four weeks old. [/caption] This little bull is already 50% larger than my Amana Orange and Chocolate Stripes seedlings -- and both those types grew 9ft tall last year. Since my first batch of grafts completely failed, this critter's raw vigor might well have ensured its survival.
So, the bad new is, I've killed Tilde. I have only my own haughtiness to blame -- I took the poor plant out of the garage too soon. [caption id="attachment_3849" align="alignnone" width="640"] Deceased Tilde. All of the canes were necrotic, so I cut it back to the soil level. There is still a small chance of new growth from the roots, but that seems unlikely. [/caption] In my own defense, it had repeatedly tried to leaf out, despite the cold and complete darkness... and this variety is cold hardy, so wasn't one of the types I expected to have to baby. I just assumed it wanted out of confinement. In a similar sized pot as Eugène de Beauharnais and my "baby" Claire Austin, it seemed fine until a week ago,…
This spiny, Jurassic looking critter is my first experience with a naranjilla plant. If you think you see a family resemblance, you are correct -- this is indeed a nightshade. It's actually really entertaining to compare the members of the family. Alongside my Pandora eggplant seedling, the similarities are quite striking, even if this particular cousin appears to have passed a little too close to a plutonium stockpile. I have also commented at length about the other members of the family, in that sense because all produce nicotine. Like its cousins, this plant is native to South America, and the Andes in particular. Unlike many of them, it is a perennial and requires a long growing season. In this case, no one will be smoking naranjilla leaves, but we do…
This entire flat of tomato seedlings is destined for grafting. The immediate challenge is, despite each seedling having been started at the same time, differences in germination and growth rate (even between individuals of the same variety) have made for wildly different plant sizes. Half of these seedlings (the ones that lack name tags) are Estamino, a hybrid variety bred specifically for disease resistance (it's useless as a tomato and doesn't produce edible fruit) and used as rootstock. The other half are various types of heirloom. In order for the grafts to hold, I'll need to match them so that the top portion of the heirlooms I want to grow exactly match the stem diameter of the rootstock below. This morning, I sorted them into roughly matching pairs. I prefer…
It's hard to believe, but these are the blooms of a sick rose. In the spring of 2016, I was fixated on obtaining a clone of Fair Bianca, a somewhat obscure David Austin variety no longer sold by David Austin. I settled on the closest thing I could find: a Winchester Cathedral, which I was able to order from a local garden center that happened to carry a limited selection of David Austin roses. It met the condition of being white and fragrant, if not quite the same form, and not possessing the pure myrrh scent for which Fair Bianca is known. In retrospect, this was like sourcing a pet through a puppy mill. Generalized garden centers are the worst possible place to buy roses, as they are not experts…
