Plants for Mother's Day

Many of us are being bombarded with advertisements and articles offering suggestions for Mother’s Day gifts. One article said, “Don’t give her a robotic vacuum or an air fryer. In fact, stay away from anything kitchen related.” Suggested alternates included a cozy throw, a keepsake box, elegant photo frames, or jewelry. Maybe I am less domestic than other women, but I think most busy mothers of young children would fall to their knees with gratitude over a robotic vacuum, while a keepsake box would mean one more thing to gather dust. A throw that doesn’t complement current décor or colors will be stored in the linen closet, perhaps indefinitely.

During my years as a garden center employee, I saw well-meaning husbands and kids purchase hanging baskets or special houseplants for Mom. I knew that in a few weeks many of those Petunia baskets would be quietly discarded, and the Black-Eyed Susie vines that looked so great when they left the sales floor would become unattractive, stringy things unless pruned. Please, consider the recipient’s available time and gardening style before making a selection. Hanging baskets will need water every day in the heat of summer. On the surface, watering sounds like a minor demand. But combine that daily watering chore with childcare needs, shopping, laundry, meal preparation and housecleaning, and resentment can easily overtake appreciation, no matter what she said when presented with a plant she did not select. If she has never shown any desire to tend plants, either indoors or out, respect that inclination and look for a non-gardening gift. If the person you are honoring is a gardener, pay attention to what she grows every year and shop with purpose. A woman with a vegetable garden would appreciate a healthy tomato plant or a specialty pepper. Those who enjoy a mojito at the end of the day might appreciate a container of mint. Someone who loves hot colors would enjoy that fire-engine red Geranium.

Gardeners who eschew houseplants are secretly gritting their teeth when presented with a fiddle-leaf fig, a cyclamen, or an orchid. By gifting a plant with exacting needs, you force the recipient to seek a special environment to accommodate a prima dona. As someone who has killed an amazing number of orchids, violets, and peace lilies, I can attest to the fact that not all successful outside gardeners are good inside gardeners. If she is proud of her collection of orchids or African violets, feel free to add another to her collection. Don’t hesitate to ask what type of plant would be especially appreciated. Pay careful attention to the response – not all Hydrangeas or Camellias have the same requirements.

Please consider non-plant presents like garden gloves, a high-quality pair of hand pruners, a kneeling pad, or high-quality sunscreen. Eyebrows were raised when a friend of ours gave us a large bag of Black Kow composted manure as a wedding present more than three decades ago, but this friend understood our shared gardening hobby.

For years, my perfect husband gave me lovely jewelry at every occasion. I loved it. BUT, the year he gave me a gas-powered, rear-tined rototiller for Valentine’s Day, I almost swooned with excitement. That was a turning point in our marriage. Future presents included things like tractors, dump trailer, and a motorized utility vehicle with an electric tilting bed. I confess, a Dramm watering wand or a quality garden hose mean more to me than just about any plant from a garden center.  

Anemones for Spring and Fall

Whether you call it Spanish Marigold, Windflower, or Poppy Anemone, Anemone coronaria (pronounced ah-NEM-oh-nee kor-oh-NAR-ee-ah) makes a bright pop of color in spring gardens. The Saint Brigid series was bred in Hollard. Their flowers are semi-double and will tolerate a little more shade than the De Caen series, which was bred in France.

Anemones are tolerant of most levels of acidity and different soil textures, but they perform much better in loamy or sandy soils than they do in clay. Avoid wet soils, which may lead to root rot. Anemones are cold-hardy in zones 7-10. Plants may reach up to 18 inches in height, but no more than 8 inches in width, so they look best if grown with a fairly tight spacing – 6 inches or so. The bright flowers lose impact when they are spread more than a foot apart. Flowers are long-lasting when cut for the vase, but avoid contact with the milky sap. It may produce a blistering rash in sensitive individuals.

Anemones bulbs should be planted in fall. They are ephemeral, which means that they flower in spring and then their top foliage dies away until the following spring. They may reseed, or can be propagated by division after a couple of years. The bulbs are poisonous. They are not normally damaged by deer or rabbits.

Another Anemone, Anemone x hybrida 'Honorine Jobert', is not quite as well-behaved as the A. coronaria species described above. Honorine Jobert is taller (3-4 feet), with pure white flowers, yellow stamens and a green button center. It spreads aggressively through rhizomes. If you have a large, damp, sunny-to-part-shade area that you want to cover quickly, this is a low maintenance plant (except for the inevitable division, which may occur faster than expected). Honorine Jobert blooms in fall rather than spring, putting on a display for up to eight weeks or more. It is cold hardy in zones 4-8, and has the same blistering sap as its shorter, more colorful cousins.

Anemone has ferny foliage

Anemone flowers outlast daffodils, tulips

A close view of Honorine Jobert flower. The petals have a slight ruffle to them.

Silene, "Catchfly," a Native Winner

A couple of years ago, I purchased three tiny specimens at a native plant sale. They were labeled ‘Catchfly’ which caught my interest. A little research revealed that these were Silene caroliniana (sigh-LEEN kair-oh-lin-ee-AY-uh), and native to the southeast.

The plants didn’t do much more than survive their first year, but since then they put on a reliable spring show. Each plant formed into a rounded mound about ten inches tall and a similar width. Leaves are narrow and range in length from one inch to three inches. The rosy, five-petaled flowers look very much like phlox. The ‘catchfly’ name comes from the sticky hairs on the stems that discourage insects from eating them.  

Silene is easy to grow in full to part-sun, neutral to acidic soil, and any soil texture. They dislike wet soils but do well in gravely or sandy soil. Once established, they are drought tolerant and may be included in rock gardens, xeric gardens, or pollinator beds. Mine are in a sloped area that does not receive supplemental irrigation, and they have done fine without any extra care. Plants are semi-evergreen, and hardy in zones 5-8. Butterflies and hummingbirds visit the flowers, which occur only in the spring. The rest of the year, they are innocuous clumps of foliage that are easy to overlook.

I would like to have more Silene, but I have not attempted to propagate it yet. I understand that they can be raised from stem cuttings, but I hope that they will self-seed and spare me the trouble.

I’m always happy to discover a native that works for me, and Silene is a winner

Photos from the Garden, early April 2026

I was in full spring planting mode this week, so there was no time for plant research. Instead, today’s blog is a simple photo-capture of what is happening in the Snoddy garden at the moment.

Above the rock wall near my guest parking area, a row of dwarf crested iris are putting on their spring show. They are interplanted with yellow daylilies and orange turk’s cap lilies, which will add color later in the season. Behind the Iris, a native Grancy Graybeard (Chionanthus virginicus) is in full flower. I found six other Chionanthus growing wild in my woodlands this week, along with at least a dozen native Piedmont (pink) azaleas. On my To Do list for this summer: Clear out the scrub trees and vines around these so they have a better environment. Here is a bit of trivia: The taller the Iris, the later it flowers.

Iris and Chionanthus

I am determined to improve the soil in my planting beds, so they get a top-dressing of soil conditioner twice yearly. It will breakdown quicker than a coarser mulch, but looks refined. The soil will be great if I live to be 100+. I weeded and conditioned the beds nearest the house before I moved all the annual seedlings from the greenhouse into their summer locations.

Candytuft (Iberis) in the front and Homestead Verbena flower early, giving an uplifting spot of color before everything else starts blooming. The open areas are now filled with Zinnia, Gomphrena, and Melampodium seedlings. This is a small area, so I am limiting my number of colors to yellow, salmon, and purple.

I have an area with a narrow, steep slope that makes mowing dangerous. It is between the kitchen foundation wall and the firepit on the north side of the house. The Zoysia sod was becoming thin and sickly from lack of sun. With help from my husband, I removed it and replaced it with stepping stones and sprigs of dwarf Mondo grass (Ophiopogon japonicus ‘Nana’). It looks pitiful right now, but in two years it will have filled in and offer a carefree lawn alternative. The stepping stones were a gift from my sister. When time allows, I will paint them with a slurry of concrete dye to make them mimic the color of the foundation wall.

Since this photo was taken, I have added two more stepping stones at the base of the steps as a landing pad.

The weather forecast contains a couple of cool nights ahead. We always have a cold snap after our last frost date — April 15, in my area. My grandmother called this “blackberry winter” and my blackberries are in flower right now.

Whether your garden consists of acreage or a single patio container, I wish you success in the coming growing season.

New to Me: Centrantherum, Lark Daisy

Tender garden perennials that cannot survive winter temperatures in colder zones can still be grown as annuals. Such is the case with Centrantherum, also known as Lark Daisy. Last fall, I was part of a cleanup team at a local arboretum when I saw Centrantherum for the first time. It was covered in nickel-sized blue-lavender flowers and had pretty, deeply-toothed leaves. Best of all, the bruised foliage smelled like pineapple. In addition to Lark Daisy, other common names include Pineapple Thistle, Pineapple Weed, or Brazilian Bachelor's Button. Plants are native to South America.

As we pulled and discarded the plants as part of a bed cleanup, I took a cutting. Once home, I divided that cutting into three parts and attempted to propagate them. All three struck roots and grew into good-sized plants in my home greenhouse. They will go into the ground in my zone 8 garden next week, when freezing weather should be past.

My research reveals two species, C. punctatum and C. intermedium. Most sites say that the plants are winter hardy only in zones 10-12, but San Marcos Growers indicates they are root hardy to 25 degrees and top growth is hardy to about 30 degrees.

Mature plants may reach 18-inches tall and wide. They will spread by seeds in warm areas but are not considered invasive, although they are considered weeds in the warmest parts of Florida. My three specimens struggled with insect issues in the greenhouse, and had to be treated for whiteflies, mealy bugs, and spider mites. The plants prevailed, as you can see from the accompanying photograph. Since they are not winter-hardy in my area, I will save seeds from this season’s flowers to sow for following years. Starting from seeds seems to be an easier solution.

Centrantherum is easily grown in full sun, and has moderate water needs. It is resistant to damage from rabbits and deer. Butterflies visit the flowers. Plants have an extended bloom period.

These three Centrantherum have grown from tiny cuttings into full gallon-size plants. They are being hardened off now, and will go into the ground next week.

Pretty Pulmonaria

One of the prettiest plants in the spring shade garden is Pulmonaria (pronounced pul-mo-NARE-ee-ah). I love the way its flowers open pink, then turn purple, and then change to a deep blue. Even after the flowers fade, the leaves have attractive white blotches. I have tried to grow this plant in my own shade garden several times without success. It wasn’t until I did research for this blog that I discovered the root cause (pun intended) of my failures.

Pulmonaria likes shade, which I have. It is winter hardy in zones 3 to 8, but it also likes a soil that leans alkaline, while mine is acidic. It is a bit demanding with soil moisture. It prefers a moist soil, but will rot if too wet. Dry soil spells death. If you follow this blog regularly, you know that I am not fond of watering.

If you have the correct conditions, Pulmonia will spread slowly but is not considered invasive. Plants are propagated by division, best done in autumn. A mature plant reaches about twelve inches in height.

One of the common names for Pulmonaria is Lungwort because in Medieval time the plant was used as a treatment for diseased lungs. Leaves are edible but not tasty. Deer and rabbits tend to leave them alone, but pollinators visit the flowers.

Pulmonaria flowers open as pink, then turn purple, before they mature to a deep blue.

Mature flowers

Pulmonaria is pretty even when its not blooming. Its leaves look like Hosta with freckles.

Spring Garden Jewelry: Pearl Bush

If you seek an uncommon spring-flowering shrub for your garden, consider Exochorda racemosa (pronounced ek-so-KOR-da ra-see-MO-sa ), commonly called Pearl Bush. These shrubs have white flowers that appear slightly later than Forsythia blooms and put on a show for several weeks. Pollinators flock to the non-fragrant flowers. Two cultivars are found in garden centers, ‘Snow Day® Blizzard' and ‘The Bride.’ Both reach four to five feet tall. The former is a  little denser and more refined in appearance than the latter.

Pearl Bush is hardy in zones 5-8, and prefers an acidic to neutral soil in full sun to partial shade. Best flowering occurs in full sun. It is heat-tolerant and moderately drought-tolerant once established.

The round flower buds resemble pearls, hence the common name. Flowers appear on previous year’s growth, so prune right after flowering. The post-flowering period is unremarkable. Pearl Bush is deciduous, so it is best included in a mixed border with later flowering shrubs and evergreens to detract once it is past its peak. It is rarely troubled by insects or diseases.

Pearl Bush in full flower

Customize Your Own Cocoa Liners

It’s time to start work on this year’s container plantings. Many years ago, I received a triple-tier garden planter as a gift. It was six feet tall with wire mesh bottom and decorative sides, and was meant for use with cocoa liners. Of course, cocoa liners break down by the end of a single season, so they became an annual cost. The size of the largest two levels meant this was a hefty expense. Because I am thrifty (read: cheap), I decided to experiment with a different method. I am sharing my success with you in this blog.

The condensed version: Make your own liners. Sew them into place. Line the liners with landscape fabric. Fill with soil and plant.

Now for the non-condensed version: Instead of continuing to purchase pre-cut liners, I bought an entire roll of cocoa mat. These are available in different sizes; I purchased the largest one I could find. It was a substatial initial cost, but the length of the roll meant I would have material for many years into the future. I used a scrap piece of material (old tablecloth) to cut a pattern for each of the three tiers. I thought I could use landscape scissors or pruners to cut the liner material, but it was tougher than I thought possible. I dulled several pairs of scissors and a pair of metal-cutting shears before I thought to wet the material. I used a large galvanized tub intended for farming use. Bingo! Soaking the roll in water for about 30 minutes made the trimming process easy, if somewhat messy. Warm water made it ever easier.

If you don’t want to purchase an entire roll of cocoa liner, check out better nurseries or farm supply stores. Many will sell this material by the foot during the spring gardening rush. This photo was taken years ago, so the price shown is not accurate in today’s market.

This was one of my first cut-to-size attempts. The jagged edges show where I tried to use scissors. The smooth edges were where the liner was cut after soaking.

Once the cutting process was complete, I placed those pieces into the appropriate level of the container and secured it into place using clear fishing monofilament and an upholsterer’s needle (looks like a regular sewing needle but 6 inches long and sturdy). It was simple to push the needle through the cocoa mat and wrap it around the metal frame. The clear monofilament was invisible against the wire frame of the baskets.

I used an upholstery needle (green arrow points to it) and clear monofilament fishing line to secure the cocoa liner to the metal frame.

Next, I used the same fabric to cut permeable landscape fabric to a slightly smaller size as each of the cocoa liners. I held the landscape fabric in place with a couple more monofilament stitches.

After this circle was cut, I trimmed it a bit to make it slightly smaller than the cocoa liner.

Finally, filled the baskets with soil and plants. The landscape fabric allowed water through but kept the potting soil from working its way into and through the cocoa mat. The fabric slowed water enough to ensure the potting soil was soaked through but not so long that roots were soggy.
This combination of steps took time, but the basket liners lasted five years before they needed replacing. I probably could have gotten through a sixth year if I had not accidentally cut through the landscape fabric when I was digging out spent plants.

This is the fall cleanup after three years. Old plants have been pulled out. New potting soil will be poured in so that the baskets will be ready for spring planting. The hot-pink duct tape on the handle of the soil scoop helps me find it.

Triple tier planted in primary colors

Triple tier with cut Christmas greenery

If you use standard cocoa liners for hanging baskets, this effort may be beyond what you are willing to do, but if you have oversized baskets, give it a try.

Learning Something New: Vivipary

Just when I start feeling good about my level of gardening knowledge, something comes along that shatters my illusion. Last month, for instance, my friend Karen brought an example of vivipary to my attention. I had never heard the term. What is vivipary? It is when seeds sprout while they are still inside the fruit. It is seen most often in tomatoes, peppers, wheat, and corn. It is also common in mangroves, but we don’t grow those in my part of the southeast.

Vivipary happens when the fruit or vegetable is under stress, whether from too much or too little water or a nutrient deficiency. Over-ripe tomatoes are prone to it, and my friend’s tomato was advertised as “vine ripened” at the local grocery. Tomatoes should always be stored at room temperature, as refrigeration gives them a mealy consistency and makes them more prone to this internal sprouting. My guess is that this tomato was shipped to the grocery store in a cool container that stressed it.

Sprouting occurs when the seed’s hormones (gibberellin and abscisic acid, usually) become unbalanced. When the conditions listed above throw the hormones out of whack, the result is broken seed dormancy.

The photos here tell the story.   

This “vine ripened” tomato appeared to have a case of teenage acne — and then plants burst through the skin!

Karen cut off the bottom-most portion of the tomato shown above and planted it in soil. Behold: healthy plants! More plants have emerged since this photo was taken. Cool, yes?

Another example: Corn kernels have decided to grow into new plants, still attached to the cob.

Gramody, CC BY-SA 2.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0>, via Wikimedia Commons

Fruits that have vivipary are safe to eat, but it’s a bit creepy to see little seeds sprouting in the midst of a tomato slice.

Do's and Don'ts of Torch Weed Control

I would not characterize myself as an organic gardener, but I am very careful about using chemicals around my gardens. So, it shouldn’t surprise anyone that I once decided to take a non-chemical approach to removing weeds from the cracks of the brick walkway that divided my vegetable garden from the adjacent perennial bed.

It was a late Sunday afternoon in autumn, warm enough but a heavy overcast sky made it seem cooler. I casually asked my husband, Saint Jim, “Say, don’t you have a propane torch?” I got an affirmative answer, then asked him to show me how to use it. Decades of togetherness meant he was smart enough not to question the wheres or whys of such inquiries. But he did give me a short demonstration, then watched me burn weeds in the garden long enough to ensure that I wasn’t going to set myself afire before he returned to the comfort of the house.

In case you are considering the live flame approach to ridding your spring garden of weeds, let me share a few voice-of-experience recommendations. 

1. You should reconsider the use of a propane torch if your beds are outlined with cedar posts or your brick pathways are defined by landscape timbers. Both are flammable. In this case “reconsider” may be defined as “don’t.” 

2. Lush green weeds like pigweed, dandelion, and thistle refuse to turn black and crumble when confronted with a blowtorch.  Only after concentrated attack do they succumb, somewhat reluctantly.  Leaves and grass that was already dead, on the other hand, burn quite nicely. If you amend your vegetable garden with lots of soil conditioner, as I do, you know that soil conditioner is mostly pine bark. Translation:  highly flammable.  Given the right conditions (warm, overcast, dry) it is possible to set one’s garden soil on fire. Trust me on this one. 

3. Do not lean directly over the torch as you cook your weeds. Bangs and long hair singe just as quickly as dead leaves.

4. Be certain that your garden hose is hooked up to a water supply, is turned on and at hand, should you need a rapid extinguish. 

5. Finally (and probably should have been first), if your gardens are protected from deer damage by an electric fence, switch OFF the power BEFORE commencing the weed-cooking operation.  Then, if you should need to lean over said electric fence to attach hose to water bib, you won’t find yourself a human experiment on the strength of bladder muscles when exposed to an electrical pulse strong enough to repel a hungry buck deer.

If you are going to rid your garden of weeds by using an herbicide (hey, no judgement here – just follow the label exactly when mixing concentrates with water), maybe use a narrow paint brush or cheap foam brush to apply thirty cents worth weedkiller to the nasties in your garden rather than using three dollar’s worth of propane to do a poor job of weed removal and worse job of hairstyling.

You’re welcome.

This image is AI generated. I did not capture the embarrassing reality of the fire in my own garden.

From Almost Dead to Specimen Plant

I will go to extraordinary lengths to keep a plant from dying in my garden. Occasionally, I even rescue those almost-dead specimens marked down for final sale at a home improvement store, hoping to nurse them back to health. There are other plant rescuers out there. If you know, you know.

One of my more memorable rescue projects was an upright juniper I found on clearance at a local garden center. The tag was long gone, so its cultivar was a mystery. It had clearly outgrown its too-small pot, and large patches of dead foliage were scattered throughout the plant.

I brought the pitiful specimen home, planted it immediately, and lavished it with attention. Within a few months, fresh growth appeared, but the plant was still dotted with brown needles that shed like a months-old Christmas tree every time a breeze touched it. That’s when I decided to give it the “poodle” treatment, also known as cloud pruning.

The method is straightforward. Begin by removing all dead limbs and any discolored foliage. Use sharp, clean tools. Then step back and study the plant’s structure. Identify the strongest limbs to keep, and prune away the others with clean cuts flush to the main trunk. The goal is to reveal the trunk and create an open, layered framework. Aim to space the remaining limbs evenly and horizontally around the trunk, like the spokes of a wagon wheel. Go slowly, as once limbs are gone, they cannot be recovered.

Once the heavy pruning is complete, switch to hand clippers. Remove foliage closest to the trunk while allowing growth to remain at the outer tips of each limb. With a light touch, shape these tufts into rounded or oval forms (think soccer balls or footballs) to create the cloud effect.

Because poodling is a radical treatment, the plant will need extra attention to recover. Provide consistent water and fertilizer to encourage vigorous regrowth. As new growth emerges, use utility scissors to refine the outer edges of the pom-poms. In late spring or early fall, remove any aggressive shoots that threaten to disrupt the shape. Patience is essential. It may take a year or two for a plant to complete its transformation from nearly-dead to camera-ready.

Trees that respond well to this style include junipers, pines, cypress, privet, and yew (Taxus). Young plants are easiest to train, but even older, unattractive specimens can be transformed from ugly ducklings into swans. Fast-growing plants such as privet may require shaping several times a year, while slower growers may need attention only once per year. In Japan, this pruning technique is known as Niwaki, and has been elevated to an art form. If you are a visual learner, check out the many demonstration videos available on YouTube.

When done correctly, poodling or cloud pruning produces a plant that resembles bonsai. The key difference is that bonsai are grown in containers, while cloud-pruned trees and shrubs are cultivated in the ground.

Conifer before poodling

Conifer after poodling

Near this commercial parking lot, a poodled conifer makes sharp contrast with Colorguard yucca. The photo was taken in winter, when there was little else of interest in the garden islands.

In this example of cloud pruning, the pom-poms are so close that they do not allow one to see through.

Temperature Fluctuations and Soil Heave

Weather in the southeast is reliably unpredictable. Conditions can shift quickly between cold and warm temperatures, heavy rain and drought, or even sleet and snow, often within a short period. After recent snowfalls melted, many gardeners noticed patches of soil pushed upward, as though something beneath the surface had forced it skyward. This phenomenon is known as frost heave.

What causes it? Frost heave occurs because water expands as it freezes. A familiar example is a canned beverage left in a freezer. As the liquid solidifies and expands, it can rupture the container. A similar process takes place in the soil. Following a rainy period or in areas with poor drainage, a sudden drop below freezing causes moisture in the ground to form ice. As the ice expands, it lifts the surrounding soil. In areas of bare soil, you can sometimes see obvious evidence, commonly called ice needles or rime ice. When the ice thaws, soil is left suspended on small air pockets. The ground looks disturbed, almost fluffy. Frost heave can damage house foundations and give rise to potholes in paved streets or driveways. It can push garden bed edging out of their locations, leading to an uneven appearance. It is more common in silty soils than in clay.

The repeated freeze–thaw cycle can push plants upward, exposing tender roots to air and cold temperatures. This exposure can be fatal during subsequent freezes. To minimize damage, gently press raised soil back into place to eliminate air pockets around roots. Light foot pressure is usually sufficient.

For widespread frost heave in sodded lawns, a weighted roller can help restore firm contact between grass roots and soil. Use caution: excessive compaction may damage dormant turf. Likewise, avoid driving over frost-heaved lawns, as vehicle weight can kill dormant sod.

While it is difficult to prevent frost heave, mulch serves as an effective soil insulator, moderating temperature extremes and reducing its likelihood. Well-aerated, well-drained soils are also less susceptible.

If you are unsure whether frost heave has occurred, walk through the affected area. Heaved soil typically feels soft or spongy underfoot, an early indicator that corrective action may be needed.

“Rime ice” or “ice needles” has pushed areas of soil above the surface.

Labor Intensive Garden Projects, Part Two

In addition to the Belgian fence and dedicated rose garden I discussed last week, here are a few garden projects that may require more of time investment than is obvious during the planning stages.

Water features and fountains. The sound of trickling water is soothing. Few garden features are as peaceful as a backyard waterfall or flowing pond. The moist environment offers a perfect location for damp-loving plants, either growing in the water or surrounding it. Koi fish add a magical dimension. I could stand and watch them swoosh around for hours. The downside is that raccoons, herons, and even the neighbor’s cat are also attracted to koi. You can take steps to protect your fish from becoming dinner by making a deeper pond reservoir (2-3 feet deep), creating hiding spots with stones, pipes, or tunnels, or draping the area with protective netting. Netting has the downside of catching leaves that must be removed for the best appearance. Without it, leaves sink, rot, encourage algae growth, and clog filters. Your location will determine frequency of cleaning. Temporarily lowering the water level makes the task a little easier, but it’s never fun. Water quality must be monitored to maintain clarity without harming the fish or damaging the circulating pump. Pond liners will eventually leak and pumps will eventually need replacement. Be sure to factor in the ongoing maintenance expense beyond the initial plumbing, electricity, and installation expenses. A deeper pool may also present safety concerns if  your garden is accessible to children.

Koi and water lilies

Fountains are not as time consuming as ponds, but they still require regular maintenance to remove algae, leaves, and debris. Any stagnant water encourages mosquitos. Large fountains are heavy and expensive; smaller fountains are more vulnerable to freezing and breakage.

Wildflower meadow gardens. Imagination paints a mental image of multicolored flowers swaying in the breeze, punctuated by tall clumps of native grasses. Sadly, the reality is less romantic. For most species, the flowering window lasts only a few weeks. Good friends of mine moved into a new home with a large, sloped front yard and wanted something more interesting than lawn. They hired a well-known native plant professional to design and install a wildflower meadow. The area was tilled and sown with a combination of seeds selected for staggered bloom times. Birds immediately feasted at the new seed buffet, leaving a few bare areas. The wildflowers came up in patches  – but so did the native blackberry bramble, horse nettle, dock, pigweed, dandelions, and assorted other nasties. The amount of time and energy spent removing these by hand was overwhelming. In theory, the wildflowers should have reseeded themselves for future years but this meant no mowing could be done until all late fall. The result was a bedraggled landscape that looked abandoned. No matter what internet photos show you, there will be a time period when a wildflower garden looks unkempt.

A wildflower bed at its best, early spring

Formal knot gardens and parterres. These designs appeal to gardeners inspired by formal gardens in England, France, or Italy. Yes, you can create boxwood hedges trimmed into intricate shapes. For the perfect appearance, the area must be flat, must be weed-free, and must be trimmed frequently. A tight pattern means limited access space, so you must also be a bit of a contortionist. Any concentration of the same plants, known as a monoculture, invites disease. If a single plant fails, or if a dog decides to mark his territory, the beauty of symmetry is upset, at least temporarily. And, oh my goodness, the time required to maintain the tight design.

A highly maintained knot garden at the Chateau de Villandry

Topiary. Topiaries require frequent, careful trimming and, if we are honest, something of an artistic skill. There are two types of topiary, one in which the plant provides the entire structure and the other in which a metal frame is stuffed with a growing media (sheet moss, coir, soil, grow bags) and usually some type of concealed watering system. The shape of the frame dictates the result. The stunning examples seen in botanical gardens are typically maintained by paid staff (see photos below).

Atlanta Botanical Grdn, Gainesville

Atlanta Botanical Grdn, Gainesville

I don’t have the time, talent, or desire to recreate something this elaborate in my own garden. I love the appearance of topiary, and recommend a visit to the Pearl Fryar Topiary Garden in Bishopville, SC. To satisfy my simple desires, I trimmed Compacta hollies (Ilex crenata ‘Compacta’) into a series of cones on either side of my front entry walkway. They required pruning three times a year, which did not feel burdensome because I enjoyed lighting them at Christmas, where they resembled holiday gumdrops. (Sounds cheesy, but I loved them.) I did the same for a pair of Osmanthus ‘Goshiki’ on the shady side of the garage.

Light snow on conical topiares

Snow at night on "gumdrop" topiaries

Osmanthus heterophyllus ‘Goshiki’ pruned to tight conical topiaries. The groundcover is Sedum acre.

Plan garden features that you love. But be realistic about the time needed to maintain them.

In a future blog, I will share how one type of topiary, called “poodling,” gave a misshapen conifer a new lease on life in my garden.

Labor Intensive Garden Projects, Part One

It’s easy to imagine lovely garden features. Daydreams are free; installation and maintenance are not. Some of the ideas that capture our hearts turn out to be far more demanding than we anticipated. Let me share a couple of personal experiences.

Years ago, my husband and I visited the UK, where I saw what appeared to be a living fence. A simple wooden frame was strung with diagonal wires, and a vine had been trained into a precise, lattice-like pattern. I learned it was called a Belgian fence, often used to block unpleasant views. That image lodged itself firmly in my brain and waited there until I had no choice but to attempt one in my own garden.

I read everything I could about Belgian fence construction, then built my own. First steps were to sink base posts deep into the ground so that a heavy, vine-covered wire trellis would be securely supported. I built a seven-foot square frame out of treated wood and attached it to the sunken supports with metal hinges so that I could lay the unit down should I need to maintain the building behind it. I secured the top of the frame to the building with more screw hooks and two lengths of lightweight chain. So far, so good. I screwed eye hooks into the frame at measured intervals and ran diagonal wires across to create an open trellis. Finally, I planted several small-leaf ivy plants at the base of the frame, watered, fertilized, and hoped.

It didn’t take long until the ivy did what ivy is supposed to do – It started twining around the wires and growing its way to the top. Unfortunately, I installed the fence and its sunken base a mere 24 inches from the ugly outbuilding it was meant to conceal. The ivy quickly ignored my carefully placed wires and reached instead for the wooden barn, attaching itself with sticky aerial roots. This resulted in monthly pruning sessions and the constant addition of wire to redirect the plants where I wanted them to go. After four years of effort, the fence finally achieved full coverage. By then, I was so tired of maintaining it that I promptly removed the entire thing.

Not content with having one time drain in my garden, I announced my intent to install a bed of hybrid tea roses along the side of our Victorian farmhouse, where I could sit on the veranda and enjoy flowers and fragrance. My husband (I refer to him as Saint Jim because of his never-ending patience with my “projects”) tried to convince me otherwise, but politely stepped aside to allow me to fail on my own.

Planning the rose bed was a great deal of fun. I perused books and even joined the American Rose Society so that I would have access to their manual on selecting roses. The manual was priceless, since it numerically rated the success of roses across the US. I learned which ones were stingy bloomers and which ones were more prone to insect and disease damage.

Newly planted roses emerging

The first year of flowers

Spoiler alert: After installing 26 roses, a combination of hybrid teas, floribundas, grandifloras, and one China rose, I learned the sad truth. ALL roses grown in the humid southeast are prone to diseases (especially black spot) and insects (especially thrips, aphids, Japanese beetles). They were lovely when they were in flower, homely when they were not. I grew tired of spraying and pruning and more spraying. In a few years, the rose bed was a distant memory and a life lesson.

This blog is not meant to be a downer. I just want to share that not all beautiful garden features in other locations can be replicated in your own garden without extensive time and trouble.

Next week: A few more time-intensive projects you might want to reconsider.  

Winter Weather Woes in the Garden

Like many others across the Southeast, my garden is wrapped in ice today. We are experiencing record-breaking cold temperatures, with power outages and frozen water pipes topping the list of concerns. My garden has taken a beating, and I expect to lose some plants that were marginally hardy for my Zone 8a conditions. Only time will tell.

Ice storms cause more damage to gardens than snowstorms. Light snow accumulation can usually be dislodged with a broom or pole and a gentle jostle to the limbs of broadleaf trees such as Southern Magnolia or conifers like my prized DeGroots Spire Arborvitae. Ice, on the other hand, adheres stubbornly to leaves and branches. Shaking shrubs or trees to remove it often causes more breakage than the ice itself. Waiting for warmer temperatures and sunlight to do the work is often the safest option.

For future winter weather events, there are a few steps you can take to help your plants survive:

• Protect root zones. Before frigid temperatures arrive, cover the root zones with chopped leaves or coarse mulch. This should be temporary. Remove the material once temperatures moderate to prevent crown rot caused by excess moisture.

• Shield vulnerable plants. Tent shrubs or small trees with shade cloth or old sheets to reduce ice accumulation. Use T-posts or upside-down buckets to prop the fabric above the plant so the weight of ice does not break limbs. If fabric is unavailable, evergreen boughs can also provide protection. This is a good use for an old Christmas tree, if you still have one. For especially tender plants, place a tomato cage around them and wrap the outside with cloth or plastic.

• Move container plants. When severe cold is predicted, relocate dormant container plants to an unheated garage or storage building. The goal is to keep them cold enough to remain dormant, not warm enough to trigger spring growth. The same applies to shrubs or trees still in nursery pots awaiting planting. (I’m guilty here. I intended to plant my Pittosporums and Grey Owl Juniper weeks ago, but that didn’t happen.)

• Manage snow carefully. If snow is the issue, gently remove it from branches with a light shake or a leaf blower, but allow it to remain around the base of plants for insulation. It may seem counterintuitive, but snow maintains a temperature of about 32°F, while surrounding air can be much colder.

• Support conifers. Ice can cause conifers to spraddle and break. Shorter specimens can be loosely wrapped with rope to hold their form, but be sure to remove the rope as soon as the ice melts to avoid damaging the plant.

• Do not water plants when soil temperatures are below freezing.

Avoid walking across ice-covered sod. Even dormant lawns may show breakage or footsteps when they green up in the spring. Give special TLC to anything recently planted in your garden. Even if listed as hardy in your zone, those plants may not be well-established. Of course, the “too little, too late” advice is to select plants for your particular hardiness zone.

It make take weeks for damage to reveal itself among your garden plants. Please be patient and wait for the arrival of spring. Prune only to remove broken limbs.

Early in the storm, we had a light dusting of snow and I breathed a premature sigh of relief. Later in the day, freezing rain turned this same view outside my front door into an ice sculpture.

Sparkling Winterberry Holly

We normally think of holly shrubs as having spiny evergreen leaves and red berries. Winterberry holly, Ilex verticillata, is deciduous. The bright red berries are held against leafless stems, offering a welcome spot of garden color in winter. These are especially eye-popping when seen against a solid green backdrop, as in the accompanying photo.

Winterberry holly is native to North America. It enjoys a moist, acidic soil in full sun to partial shade and is perennial in zones 3-9. Mature plants may reach twelve feet or more in height, and up to five feet wide. They are slow growing, however, and will take years to achieve this size.

Gardeners should know two things about Winterberry. First, it flowers and produces berries on new growth, so you can prune plants to shape in early spring and reap the rewards of more berries in winter. Adding a bit of fertilizer will push even more new growth.

Second, Winterberry Holly plants are either male or female. Only the female plants produce those lovely red berries, and only if a male plant is nearby (within fifty feet) to ensure pollination. A single male holly can pollinate ten females.

Critical point: The males and females must bloom at the same time. Try to buy plants from a knowledgeable nursery so that you don’t go home with an early-season female and a late-season male. Early-flowering females (like Red Sprite, Afterglow, Berry Nice, and Berry Heavy) need early males (Jim Dandy). Late-flowering females (like Sunset, Winter Red, Winter Gold) need late males (Southern Gentleman, Apollo). If you pair early-flowering Red Sprite with late flowering Apollo, for example, you will see few if any berries. Berry set will also be reduced if plants suffer drought conditions.

These shrubs, both male and female, don’t offer much in the way of eye candy unless berries are present. I like to plant the male pollinators in an out-of-way location so they don’t draw attention to their unimpressive shape, size, and foliage.

Birds are attracted to the berries and bees enjoy the flowers. Plants are moderately deer resistant and are also fire resistant. Berries are not meant for human consumption; they won’t kill you but they can cause stomach upset.

This Winterberry was planted just a few months ago. Red berries stand out when seen against the solid green backdrop of Leyland Cypress.

These plants were installed at a new development entrance just a couple of months ago. The berry display will be much heavier in successive years.

Hooray for Holly Ferns

While everything else in the garden is dull, drab, gray or brown, bright evergreen Holly Ferns stand out like beacons signaling that a positive future awaits in my shade beds. The Latin name for Holly Fern is Cyrtomium falcatum, pronounced sir-TOH-mee-um fal-KAY-tum. They are native to Asia, but have naturalized in the lower US.

Their thick, leathery leaves withstand freezes but can be damaged in extended cold periods or if ice remains on the fronds for any length of time. Damaged leaves should be removed at the base in spring. Plants are perennial in zones 7-10.

Like most other ferns, Holly Fern likes damp shade or part shade. They tolerate short periods of drought. They also do very well near deciduous trees, where they receive a bit of sun in winter but are protected from direct sunlight during the warm months.

Holly Ferns do not produce seeds. They can be started from spores if you have an enormous amount of patience, but they are best reproduced by division. Try using an electric kitchen carving knife (yes, the kind used for slicing your Thanksgiving turkey) to divide the tough crowns. Mature plants can reach two feet in height and up to three feet in width. This means they can be used as low-growing foundation shrubs on the shady side of a house.

While most ferns have a delicate, fine texture, Holly Ferns are coarse. They combine beautifully with hostas, and their evergreen nature means that they can keep a bed from looking bare in the winter.

I see Holly Ferns for sale in various nurseries. Sometimes they vary in appearance from the ones that have been with me for a number of years. I started with one plant and have divided it multiple times, so all mine are exact clones of the mother plant. They have weathered several relocations without sulking. I suspect that those that look different are Cyrtomium fortunei, a similar species with closer spaced leaf lobes.

These easy-to-grow plants do well in containers, pond-side, on slopes, in hanging baskets, just about anywhere shady. They are resistant to damage from deer and rabbits.

This Holly Fern is five years old. The new growth is bright green. The older,darker fronds at lower right show some winter damage and will be removed. This fern is underplanted with evergreen ginger (Asarum europeana) and next to variegated Solomon’s Seal (Polygonatum odoratum).

This baby Holly Fern was recently separated from a mother plant. Within a year, it will outgrow the hostas on either side.

Guest Blog: Lies, Damn Lies, and Plant Labels

Does your garden contain a plant that is taller than the label said it would be? Maybe WAY taller?  Tony Avent, the renowned owner of Plant Delights Nursery at Juniper Level Botanical Garden (Raleigh, NC) wrote “Lies, Damn Lies, and Plant Labels” to commiserate and explain the mismatch between estimates and results. He has graciously allowed me to reprint his blog here. Enjoy!

Lies, Damn Lies, and Plant Labels
We just snapped this photo of Lemon Thread Cypress (Chamaecyparis pisifera ‘Lemon Thread’) in the gardens here at Juniper Level, and wanted to share since it illustrates our constant rants about trusting nurseries, plant tags, and websites to give accurate mature sizes. For a woody plant, our typical advice is to triple any size you are given. So, we wanted to see how that advice would work with the plant below.

Lemon Thread cypress was discovered in the mid 1980s as a sport at Oregon’s Mitsch Nurseries, so it’s a relative newcomer as plants go. Our 20 year old specimen is planted in compost-amended sandy loam without any chemical fertilizers ever. We should also add that we don’t believe in shearing plants, which we find a waste of energy as well as a middle finger to nature’s beauty. Our specimen now measures 25′ tall x 15′ wide.

We then searched the web for Lemon Thread Cypress and recorded the sizes from the top 30 sites that came up in Google… Sizes we found range from 2-5′ tall x 2-3′ wide with only one site giving a height greater than 10′.

 Is it any wonder that people install plants in the wrong place!  So, why does this happen? Many reasons:

• Vendors lie to sell more plants…sad, but true.

• Vendors almost never update inaccurate information once it’s in their system.

• Few vendors/garden writers bother to visit a public garden and actually measure the plant. It’s much easier to copy someone else’s mistake.

• Most plants which are measured, are measured either in containers, or from heavily pruned garden specimens.

• Plants grow differently in different climates.  Very true!

• It takes too much time to be accurate, but don’t we really owe that to our customers?

NGB: The Gods and Five Plants of Ancient Greece

The National Garden Bureau came into being in 1920. It was the invention of journalist and horticulture educator James H. Burdett. Today the non-profit NGB’s mission is to ““Inspire. Connect. Grow.” They offer factual information on seeds, plants, and gardening products. They are famous for their annual “Year of…” designations that focus our attentions on one annual, perennial, bulb, edible, houseplant, and flowering shrub each year. Member articles throughout the year educate and entertain readers. One such article that I found interesting was, Five Great Plants from the Gardens of the Gods: Plants with Mythical and Historical Uses.

The article featured Acontium napellus (aconite), Morus species (mulberry), Hedera helix (ivy), and Cydonia oblonga (quince). The one that I found most interesting was Narcissus (daffodil). This section is reproduced below, in its entirety. Please follow the highlighted link above to read the whole post. You won’t be sorry. Especially see the legend behind Mulberry. Hint: This is a version of Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet that you did not learn in school.

Narcissus (daffodil)

Once upon a time, an arrogant young man named Narcissus fell in love with his own reflection. As he wandered through the woods, he stopped to drink from a pool of water and saw himself reflected in its surface. He was mesmerized. One version of the story says he didn’t realize he was looking at himself and that he stayed there until he wasted away, longing to meet the man in the mirror. Another version says he realized he was looking at himself and understood his love could never be reciprocated, so he killed himself. In both versions, the narcissus flower sprang from his dead body.

A less familiar story tells how Zeus (king of the gods) helped his brother Hades (king of the underworld) kidnap Persephone so Hades could make her his queen. Zeus created a magical narcissus with 100 flowers to captivate Persephone. As she reached to touch it, the ground beneath her opened, and Hades rushed up in his chariot, grabbed Persephone, and carried her beneath the earth.

Persephone’s mother was Demeter, goddess of the harvest. Her father was Zeus, who apparently had no problem organizing his own daughter’s kidnapping. Demeter was devastated when her daughter was taken; she caused all plants to die and allowed no seeds to germinate. Very quickly, Zeus realized that without plants, humans would starve, and without humans, no one would be left to worship the gods. So Zeus commanded Hades to return Persephone, which he did. But first, Hades tricked Persephone into eating a few pomegranate seeds.

For every seed she ate, Persephone was forced to spend a month underground as Hades’s queen. And that’s why we have a growing season and a dormant season. When Persephone is in the underworld, Demeter grieves and allows nothing to grow. When Persephone returns, Demeter rejoices, and the growing season begins again.

Best Wishes at Year's End

I am pausing the blog research this week to enjoy the company of family and friends. The 2026 year will kick off with a guest blog you don’t want to miss. If you have ever been surprised by a plant whose label said three feet in height and now it towers over your home, there is an explanation forthcoming. Tony Avent, the renowned owner of Plant Delights Nursery at Juniper Level Botanical Garden (Raleigh, NC) wrote “Lies, Damn Lies, and Plant Labels” to educate us. It is a fascinating read, and I look forward to sharing it with you.

I want to thank you, my readers and supporters, for another year of friendship and encouragement. Many of you know that I have been working on a gardening book for years. I hope to have an announcement in that regard within the next few weeks.

However you choose to celebrate this holiday season, may you be happy and healthy, may your gardens grow lush and beautiful, and may the deer skip your Hostas.