Gardening Blog

Garden eye spy: Roses are red

What is it about roses that inspire adoration? For me I think it has something to do with my father’s prized English rose garden struggling to survive the harsh Canadian climate each year, thus making the triumphant fanfare of blossoms all the more impressive when they finally arrived. Or perhaps it is as simple as bold colour being captured within intricately grown petals. Whatever the reason, roses are my favourite floral subject to photograph.
This rose portrait was taken last weekend during a leisurely post-brunch stroll. I love the delicate folds, the soothing colour and the unexpected almost romantic pattern that lingers within this flower. Part of me is tempted to print this image to canvas and hang in my bedroom as a piece of artwork. Do you love roses as much as I do?

(Laura L. Benn is the Multi-brand Web Content Editor at TC Media. Follow her writing, photography and other creative ventures on her popular blog LLB {words + photos}  or via Twitter.)

The virtual garden

I have palm trees in my garden.
No, really.
I still live in Alberta, and there’s snow on the ground, but my garden is full of palm trees, and there are NO WEEDS.
Okay, so the garden happens to be on my iPad, but still.
Seeing as how the ground is freezing up and I’m transitioning from real gardening to the imagining of next year, I thought I’d spend a little time in the App Store digging for some gardening gizmos.
One of the first I fiddled with was LawnCAD, a landscape drawing program ($4.99), and along with the other trees and rectangles, you can place palm trees! And pines, and bushes, of course. I’m finding it kind of finicky to work with so far, but that may be because I’m a layman; maybe it’s great for professionals. Point is, I’m visualizing my house surrounded by palm trees. An innocent winter pleasure.

Next week I’ll tell you more about some of the apps I’ve found. In the meantime, tell me about your favourite virtual gardening gadgets. What works? What doesn’t?

The digging of the potatoes

After plugging them into the ground in early June, my potatoes have lived without the interference of human attention. Unless you count the sprinkler blanketed over the whole garden. My mom is visiting this week and she keeps asking what she can help with (!!). So far, she’s washed every dish as soon as it was dirtied and made some serious headway with the laundry. To spare her from reading the same Dora the Explorer picture book for the tenth time, I suggested we head outside and dig the last of the veggies. My youngest daughter had to get in on the action, of course. She seems way more excited about these potatoes than the ones I have put on her plate before. Think she’ll start eating them now?

Garden eye spy: Morning light

When is your favourite time to be in a garden? The sun-kissed afternoon? The late serene evening? I personally love the very early morning for one special reason; soft light. Everything looks more magical in those few precious hours before the world fully wakes and gives way to its inevitable hustle and bustle. A romantic quality lingers wherever the light touches.
Take this pretty blossom for example. Standing on its own off to the side of a garden path, it is probably overlooked most of the time. But in the gentle glow of morning it becomes illuminated, the centre of attention, the star of the walkway.

(Laura L. Benn is the Multi-brand Web Content Editor at TC Media. Follow her writing, photography and other creative ventures on her popular blog LLB {words + photos}  or via Twitter.)

Quick frost cover-up

Remember the Cubs’ pumpkins?

Since helping the boys start the plants this spring, I have been gently nudging Chris to get his boys to take care of them (or take care of them himself), since it’s really their project, and I’ve got plenty of over things I’m already not on top of.

I “suggested” he’d better cover them up one night a couple of weeks ago, as there was a good chance of frost, but stayed out of it beyond pointing him to the burlap and the extra sheets. Guess what that guy did? Instead of using the flat sheets and weighing down the corners like I would have done, he grabbed fitted sheets and snuggled them right over the plants. The elastic was just right to hold the sheet on the plant without rubbing or breaking leaves.

Genius, right?

And look what they’ve got to show for it:

Ta-da! 'Jack of All Trades' has my endorsement for strong growth and quick fruit. Seeds, flesh, and carving: TBA


Good night, sweet earth

As I sit writing this, the first snowfall of the season sits on the lawn, and the radio is announcing a heavy snowfall warning for our area.

I’m sorry friends, it’s here.

We’ve been having such a pleasant, warm autumn that I’ve just been working steadily away, weeding and mulching and digging carrots, with nary a thought of full-on winter. The last few days, however, have been a flurry of activity: Chris mowing and finishing up the drip cap on a window we just replaced, me planting bulbs and gathering forgotten tools back to the shed. It’s amazing what little white cartoon crystals on the internet weather forecast will do.

Now, don’t get me wrong, this will melt in a few days, and I can finish digging up the beets, not to mention that most of you are probably still veritable ages away from winter proper. Just consider me your early-warning system: time to finish up. Time to tuck in your tenders, cover up select conifers. The earth is stretching her leafy-treed arms and getting ready for bed. So enjoy some relaxed late-night conversation with your garden, talk about your plans for when it awakes. Make it some hot chocolate, and kiss it goodnight.


Good night.

Sleep tight.

Low-maintenance Monday: Creeping Japanese sedge

Carex morrowii ‘Ice Dance’, a low-growing, ornamental, variegated sedge is selected as one of the top ten low-maintenance plants by the illustrious gardeners in Gardening from a Hammock.

What makes it such a favourite?

The creeping Japanese sedge grows 20 to 30 cm and spreads between 30 to 45 cm in zones 5 to 9. It is a slow-spreading perennial with grass-like, arching stems covered with forest-green leaves trimmed in bright white or cream. It is grown for its foliage and for its ability to complement other plants.

Garden designer Kim Price of Kim Price Landscape Design Inc. likes it because it handles half sun or shade and flowers from June through July. “The variegated green and cream leaves provide interest throughout the season,” she says.

Creeping Japanese sedge can be used for an accent, border edging or groundcover. It also is a valuable addition to a woodland garden, in mass planting or in containers. Photo courtesy of Heritage Perennials.

The creeping Japanese sedge ‘Ice Dance’ is as “fresh and green in January as it is in August,” says Jeff Mason who runs Mason House Gardens in Uxbridge, Ontario. “It looks like someone took a bunch of spider plants and plunked them in the ground.” This sedge spreads but is not invasive. It has white, creamy variegation with a relatively fine texture.

Aldona Satterthwaite, executive director of the Toronto Botanical Garden uses it to fashion a dramatic silver and white palette in her garden. She combines ‘Ice Dance’ sedge, lamium ‘White Nancy’ and variegated Solomon’s seal under an old silver-edged dogwood. She explains that the leaves of the sedge are trimmed in bright white, while the lamium has silver leaves with white flowers.

Creeping Japanese sedge is one of the star plants selected by 17 expert gardeners in Gardening from a Hammock by Ellen Novack and Dan Cooper. Gardening from a Hammock is an easy-to-use book describing how to create a fabulous, four-season garden using low-maintenance plants. It’s loaded with tips and has a botanical reference guide.

R.I.P., broccoli

I am in mourning.

I have been faithful with my application of Btk on all my brassicas this year, so no cabbage worms for us. I got all that stork’s bill under control (okay, most of it) and put down some good mulch. When I left the veggie garden alone last week to focus on the flower gardens and a few fall projects, the broccoli was just starting a new flush of strong growth, and I was smugly dreaming of a fall reaping of lovely green heads.

When I returned to see if they were ready for cutting, this is what I found.

Those little black spots are flea beetles, for the uninitiated. They got to my fall crop before I did. Ravaged it. Inedible.

This is what I get for feeling smug. ‘Pride cometh before the fall,’ and all that.

Or ‘Fall pride cometh before the flea beetle…’


Low-maintenance Monday: Giant goat’s beard

There is drama and there is high drama. Aruncus diocus or giant goat’s beard is high drama, looming up to 180 cm, bearing creamy-white plumes that rise above the dark foliage and brightening up the shady garden. Susan Lipchak, one of the master gardeners featured in Gardening from a Hammock, suggested both the giant Aruncus diocus and the smaller Aruncus dioicus ‘Kneiffi’, cutleaf goat’s beard, for the shade. “The Aruncus diocus is a dramatically bold plant because of its size – it looks like a giant astilbe,” says Susan. It holds its own beside a giant clump of tall grasses in her garden. This perennial stands between 120 to 180 cm and is spectacular in flower with its creamy white plumes and lacy leaves. It eventually forms a dense clump. The ‘Kneiffii’ variety is smaller, but still stands 90 cm and has finely cut leaves, which would suit a smaller garden.

This hardy perennial complements summer-blooming shrub roses, brunnera, ferns and hostas. Photo courtesy of Heritage Perennials.

The giant goat’s beard is ideal for the back of a shady border or beside a pond. It needs room, as it will spread between 90 and 150 cm. Expect a strong statement from the creamy-white flowers June through July. Where the giant goat’s beard would be too large, the more compact cutleaf goat’s beard (Aruncus dioicus ‘Kneiffii’) would provide the impact without the height. It is smaller at 75 to 90 cm high, but with the same spread.  It has finely cut leaves similar to a Japanese maple with creamy-white flowers June through July.

As an interesting aside, the male flowers produce showier and more erect plumes (I am not making this up) than do the plants with female flowers.

To get new plants, divide clumps in spring or fall, but be aware they do not like being moved.

Giant goat’s beard is one of the star plants selected by 17 expert gardeners in Gardening from a Hammock by Ellen Novack and Dan Cooper. Gardening from a Hammock is an easy-to-use book describing how to create a fabulous, four-season garden using low-maintenance plants. It’s loaded with tips and has a botanical reference guide.

Mystery tulip bulbs

In a hodge-podge corner of the front garden I have a bunch of different colored tulips. I’m still deciding what to do in this spot, so I’m content to let them go on doing their thing until I make up my mind, but I did decide quite a while ago one thing: I want to move the yellow ones over to where I’ve got some purple ones (I’m all about the complementary colors, you see.). Problem is, fall comes around, and I realize I have no idea where to dig to get the yellow tulips as opposed to the red or orange.

So this spring I was real smart. When the tulips bloomed, I reused the plant tags from the flats of pansies I bought to mark the bunches of yellow tulips so I could dig them up and move them this fall.
As in, now.
Well, I don’t know where those plant tags have gone, but they’re gone. I blame either children or hail.
Frustrated, I decided to dig anyway, trusting my memory (ha!) as to where the yellow ones had been. Approximately.

I found bulbs all right, but the question is, are they the right ones? Do I put them back and wait until next year to sort them out? Or do I take a chance and put them in their new home, and weed out any reds that might have slipped in?

I examined the bulbs carefully: no colour clue in the standard brown-covered cream. No little stamp on the outside stating the cultivar… oooo, wouldn’t that be handy? Or maybe little stickers like they use for produce in the grocery stores! There’s always a few of those persisting in the compost, so why wouldn’t they hold up to a few years in the ground? Somebody has got to look into the possibilities. I’m telling you, this could be a revolution in bulb management. Maybe not on the scale of the 1630′s, but it would change my little world.

Or maybe I’ll just stick em’ in the ground and cross my fingers.


Pages: Prev 1 2 3 ...12 13 14 15 16 17 18 ...51 52 53 Next

Follow Style At Home Online

Facebook Activity


Latest Contests

more contests