Breaking Up 2014 Edition - 31 Failed Plant Relationships in my Garden

Some garden relationships just don't work out.

Here is a rogue's gallery of past loves that have since fallen into disfavor:

(PS - It probably should go without saying, but just because these plants flopped in my garden doesn't mean that they're doomed to do the same in yours. Every garden is different. Every gardener is different. Feel free to catch some of these rejects on the rebound. YMMV - Your Mileage May Vary...)

Callirhoe bushii, Bush's Poppy Mallow, blooming June 2013

1) Callirhoe bushii, Bush's Poppy Mallow - Supposed to have a long bloom season and attract lots of bees and other pollinators. Instead it had a short bloom season and I never saw a single pollinator on a C. bushii flower.

Callirhoe involucrata, Winecup, photo by peganum

2) Callirhoe involucrata, Wine Cups, Poppy Mallow - Tried growing this from seed by sowing directly in the garden. Failed.

3) Calycanthus floridus, Carolina Allspice, Sweetshrub - Planted in spring 2012 in partial shade. This plant struggled through the dreadful drought and heat of the 2012 summer. Somehow when picking this plant, I missed the fact that it prefers moist soils. When it had not shown any signs of life by early April 2013, I gave it the heave-ho. The photo I was going to share of this plant is so hideous that to post it would be to dishonor the dead. But if you must see the train wreck, you can check it out in this late 2012 post.

Caryopteris, Blue Mist Spiraea. You can find other caryopteris photos online that make the plant seem bigger and bushier, but this is sort of what mine looked like - rather unassuming, almost see-through, not a bold presence in the garden. I can't say that I dislike it. The blue color is lovely and it does attract bees when in bloom, but the bloom season was not long for me and the plant was not attractive out of flower. Maybe a plant for an unobtrusive, out-of-the-way corner of your garden? Photo by mwms1916

4) Caryopteris, Blue Mist Spiraea - Chosen for its reported drought tolerance and ability to attract bees and butterflies over a long bloom season (supposedly July to September). In reality, Caryopteris did not leaf out until mid April and did not start blooming until mid-August. The sparse blooms did attract some bees, but I never saw a butterfly on the plant. I've since read that Caryopteris performs best with a hard pruning in the spring, so I'll give that a shot this year and see if it makes any difference. I may also try transplanting it to a slightly sunnier location to see if that induces more flowers.

Ceratostigma plumbaginoides, Leadwort, Hardy Blue Plumbago finally emerging from a long winter nap, mid-April 2013

5) Ceratostigma plumbaginoides, Leadwort, Hardy Blue Plumbago - In 2012, several of these plants performed admirably through the record heat. 2013? Not so good. The plumbago in full sun looked sickly all year and pretty much pooped out early. Maybe it was negatively impacted by the roots of a large sunflower growing nearby? I won't be surprised if it doesn't return next year. The leadworts growing in partial shade (morning sun, afternoon shade) performed better, but they didn't start putting on new growth until mid-April. Since the plants drop their leaves by late-November, we're looking at nearly five months of bare stems, which isn't appealing on a specimen plant, and certainly is not desirable on a large-scale groundcover. The blue flowers are pretty in late summer and early autumn, but they don't seem to draw many pollinators. Under the right circumstances, the leaves can attain a rich red coloring before they fall. I don't think I'll rip out my plumbago, at least not quite yet, but neither am I eager to add any more to garden.


6) Ceratostigma griffithii, Griffith's Plumbago - A total flop. It was supposed to be a drought-tolerant evergreen shrub or sub-shrub (depending on which catalog description you chose to believe). Purchased via mail order, the plant looked feeble to start and saved  me the trouble of shovel-pruning by disappearing sometime during the 2013 growing season. (Sorry I've got no photo for this one. What can I say? It's a rare plant and I couldn't find any Creative Commons-licensed photos of it on Flickr. Nor could I showcase any photos from my own garden, since it did its disappearing act before I could take any.)

Redbud in bloom. Enjoy it while it lasts...Photo by Jeff Stvan

7) Cercis canadensis, Redbud - I'm going to go out on a limb here and criticize the Redbud (not to be confused with Citizen Kane's beloved Rosebud). Yes, it's native to Tennessee (and much of the Southeast, Mid-Atlantic and Midwest). Yes, it looks lovely for about one week in the springtime when it is covered with flowers. Yes, the bees go crazy for it - although just over a few days. But it is reportedly short-lived (typically 20-25 years acording to various sources), reportedly weak-wooded and susceptible to damage from snow, ice and wind. In sheltered understories, the leaves probably look quite nice.

Clematis integrifolia, May 2013

8) Clematis integrifolia - I admire this plant, but I wouldn't necessarily recommend planting it or add any more of it to my garden. It is tough and reblooms throughout the summer, but I'm not a fan of the lax, sprawling growth habit or the downturned flowers. Nor have I ever seen any pollinators visiting those flowers. I can appreciate its strong points, but Clematis integrifolia and I just aren't meant for each other.

Dianthus gratianopolitanus "Firewitch", May 2013

9) Dianthus gratianopolitanus "Firewitch" - Hardy to zone 3, but tough enough to make a full sun perennial / groundcover in Middle Tennessee. So what's the problem here? I admit I'm probably being persnickety, but I find the persistent stems terribly unappealing and I don't know how to remove them. Also, despite the fact that Firewitch is supposed to be appealing to bees, I've never yet seen a bee on a dianthus flower. Some sources say that Firewitch flower petals are edible. I've tried them occasionally and lived to tell about it. While they may make an attractive garnish, they have zero appeal for my palate.

Eupatorium dubium, Dwarf Joe Pye Weed, August 2013

10) Eupatorium dubium, Dwarf Joe Pye Weed - Purchased for its reported ability to attract butterflies. I did not see any butterflies on the plant all summer, although a few small bees did visit the flowers. It didn't seem all that happy in full sun even though the summer was neither particularly hot nor dry by Tennessee standards. Not impressed from an aesthetic standpoint.

Galium odoratum, Sweet Woodruff, February 2014

11) Galium odoratum, Sweet Woodruff - How the mighty have fallen. After a torrid love affair with this plant, the romance cooled toward the end of last summer. One patch that got morning sun and afternoon shade petered away to nothing. The main patch (in a morning sun, afternoon shade setting) suffered some ugly dieback that I believe could have been fungal. Despite the fact that it's rated as hardy to zone 4, this winter has given Sweet Woodruff severe freezer burn. I can accept a plant that doesn't look its best in winter (such as Ajuga or Creeping Raspberry), but I can't see the logic in keeping a plant that looks dreadful year-round. I will say that the tiny white flowers have a pleasant vanilla fragrance when dried, but that's not enough for me to keep or recommend Sweet Woodruff as a groundcover any longer.

Gardenia jasminoides "Jubilation", February 2014

12) Gardenia jasminoides - I was hooked when I caught a whiff of gardenia on a garden tour. I don't know what secrets that gardener had for keeping his or her bushes lush and healthy, because my "Jubilation" gardenia has struggled pretty much ever since I planted it in late 2012. It made it through 2013 and even produced a few sweetly-scented blooms, but it's been downhill ever since. The near-zero temperatures this winter have blackened many of the remaining leaves. Missouri Botanical Garden calls gardenias high maintenance and warns they are susceptible to numerous diseases and pests. There is a very funny, very long archived thread on the Gardenweb forum that reveals how gardenias drive many gardeners bonkers. I still love the scent of gardenia -- I'll just be seeking it out in someone else's garden. (Incidentally, while some gardeners report their gardenias surviving negative Fahrenheit temperatures, it's also the case that gardenias seems susceptible to major damage from late spring freezes.) In any case, I like tough and trouble-free plants, and gardenias don't exactly seem to fit that bill.

Geranium maculatum, April 2013, shortly after planting, not long for this world

13) Geranium maculatum - Native to the Southeast, reported to have great fall color and to be somewhat evergreen, my G. maculatum gave up the ghost within months of being planted. I have good luck with other geraniums, but maculatum and I clearly were not meant for each other.

Unknown daylily, May 2012

14) Hemerocallis, Daylily - OK, if the gardening community isn't coming for me yet with pitchforks over my criticism of the Redbud, this may soon have them storming the parapets. But I'll say it anyway -- I'm just not a fan of daylilies. The plants look awful in winter. The flowers are pretty, but they typically only last a single day, and the dead flowers and persistent scapes are a pain to remove. Daylilies don't seem to attract bees, butterflies or other beneficials, but they do attract plenty of aphids. (The only good thing about that is that the aphids in turn attract ladybugs and other predators.) I'll admit that they're fairly tough and even drought tolerant, although my personal experience indicates that daylilies will stop flowering and suffer serious foliage damage unless given supplemental water in drought conditions. Daylilies aren't dreadful. I'm not planning on shovel-pruning the ones in my garden, but I do think they are far over-used and over-hyped. There, I said it.

Hexastylis arifolia, Heartleaf Ginger, photo by BlueRidgeKitties

15) Hexastylis arifolia, Heartleaf Ginger - I really wanted this to work out. An ornamental (non-edible) ginger native to Tennessee and throughout the Southeast, I thought this might make a nice evergreen groundcover. The plant I received via mail order was pathetically small and it struggled from the get-go. (My mail order experiences last year have really pushed me toward buying local in 2014.) The plant never had more than one leaf throughout the growing season and it ultimately disappeared sometime in the autumn. I'm keeping my finger's crossed that it could make a reappearance this spring, but I'm not holding my breath.

Hibiscus moscheutos, Hardy Hibiscus "Lady Baltimore", July 2013

16) Hibiscus moscheutos, Hardy Hibiscus - The flowers are beautiful, and the plant is tough enough to survive Tennessee droughts (with a bit of supplemental water). So what's the problem? The flowers are very short-lived. The plant is slow to emerge from dormancy in spring (late April in 2013). Hardy Hibiscus flowers are supposed to attract hummingbirds and butterflies, but I've never seen either one visiting the flowers. Hibiscus moscheutos is also very susceptible to the hibiscus sawfly, which tatters the foliage and frequently leads to frustrating levels of bud drop before the flowers even open. So what's a zone 6/7 hibiscus lover to do? Hibiscus coccineus (a.k.a. Swamp Hibiscus or Texas Star) is supposed to be at least moderately resistant to the sawfly, so that's a plant that I'll probably try to trial in my garden in the near future.

Kolkwitzia amabilis, Beauty Bush "Dream Catcher", April 2013

17) Kolkwitzia amabilis, Beauty Bush "Dream Catcher" - Looks nice in the online photos. In reality? Ugly foliage. Zero flowers. I guess no one would buy it if they called it "Ugly Bush"? And that, my friends, is why there will rarely be truth in advertising.

Lagurus ovatus, Bunny Tails, photo by Jon Sullivan

18) Lagurus ovatus, Bunny Tails - Mea culpa. I did a lousy job raising this from seed and transplanting it. It's also true that my heavy clay soil is the diametric opposite of the sandy soil that L. ovatus reportedly prefers. That said, I was underwhelmed with the size and vigor of this plant. Sigh.

Lobularia maritima, Sweet Alyssum, October 2012

19) Lobularia maritima, Sweet Alyssum - Well, here's another 2-3 year love affair that has crashed on the rocks of reality. In 2011, I was pleased with the smattering of sweet alyssum I grew from seed. In 2012, I tried working with starter plants, but most of them croaked, so I decided that starting my own plants from seed was the way to go. So I ordered a gazillion seeds (I exaggerate slightly) from American Meadows and scattered them liberally along the borders of my garden beds. Many sprouted, but did not thrive. Those that sprouted and thrived (especially in morning sun, afternoon shade settings) quickly grew leggy and ugly, swamping nearby plants. Yes, the flowers are fragrant when massed. Yes, this is a fairly easy annual plant to grow in the right conditions, but the dead flower stems are ugly, persistent and a huge pain to remove. As I struggled to grub out Sweet Alyssum from the beds, I found myself wondering - "Why did I create all this work for myself?" I still don't have a good answer to that question. Well...except for the fact that Sweet Alyssum does attract hoverflies and parasitic wasps. That's a good thing, but not good enough to grow it again next year. And if I do have another fling with Sweet Alyssum, I can promise that it will be a single, small seed packet, sparsely scattered into a discrete corner, not flung about with wild abandon. I've learned my lesson. Really.

Lonicera periclymenum, European Honeysuckle, Woodbine, April 2013

20) Lonicera periclymenum, European Honeysuckle, Woodbine - A variegated vine died in 2012 just months after it was planted. A variety called Serotina did survive and returned more strongly in 2013, but it did not perform to expectations. This deciduous woody plant sprawled perhaps 7-feet wide and produced pretty but very short-lived flowers. These were followed by a few red berries. It's not an awful plant, and it might get better in subsequent years. (I've pruned it way back, but haven't decided yet whether or not to shovel prune it.) But I much prefer the native climbing Lonicera sempervirens (Coral Honeysuckle) over the European Woodbine.

Monarda didyma, Bee Balm, "Jacob Cline", July 2013

21) Monarda didyma, Bee Balm, "Jacob Cline" - Just a bit too vigorous for my tastes. After only a few months, I saw Jacob Cline was spreading through underground stems and popping up throughout the bed. Well, I might have simply tried to control its spread if the flowers had been attractive, or if they had lived up to their reputation to attract bees, butterflies and hummingbirds. As it was, I never saw bees or butterflies on Jacob Cline and the hummers seemed far more interested in the Coral Honeysuckle (not to mention the Zinnias). So I went for a clean break (not that easy since the M. didyma stems tend to snap when you try to pull up the roots. I'm still keeping my eye on a Monarda (M. fistulosa, a.k.a. Wild Bergamot), but I don't see any more M. didyma in my future.

Salvia elegans, Pineapple Sage, June 2012

22) Salvia elegans, Pineapple Sage - Didn't live up to the hype. Officially only hardy to zone 8, Pineapple Sage survived the long (though not especially cold) winter of 2012-13. I doubt it will return after the below-zero cold temperatures during this 2013-14 winter. But I won't mourn its passing. Despite a reputation for attracting bees and hummingbirds, I never saw a single bee visit the late autumn flowers, and the hummingbirds didn't visit much either. (Perhaps because it bloomed so late in the season that most hummers had already begun migrating further South?) Leaves and flowers are both supposed to be edible, but I couldn't discern any pineapple flavor (or any flavor at all really) when I sampled one of the leaves. In drought conditions, S. elegans is one of the first plants in my garden to show distress, curling its leaves and generally looking miserable. It can survive a drought with some supplemental water, but it won't win any beauty contests in the process.

Salvia nemorosa, August 2013

23) Salvia nemorosa, Woodland Sage -- I added two kinds of woodland sage to the garden in September 2012 - May Night and Blue Hill. Both plants performed tolerably in the first half of 2013. In June, I was able to post a picture of May Night in the midst of a mild rebloom. They both drew a couple of bees, but neither became the bee magnet I had envisioned. These plants are not what you would call "self-cleaning". They need deadheading and trimming to look their best, but deadheading can be a chore when S. nemorosa's tough, wiry stems that fought back against the bypass pruner. After the bloom is done, these plants are not particularly attractive and they look more and more ragged as the calendar turns toward autumn and winter. I haven't yet given up on the whole Salvia genus yet, but I think I've crossed S. nemorosa and S.elegans off my list.

Sarcococca confusa, Sweet Box, February 2014

24) Sarcococca confusa, Sweet Box - On paper, this looked like a winner. Evergreen? Check. Drought-tolerant once established? Check. Fragrant winter flowers that reportedly attract bees? Double-check. And yet...the two plants that arrived via mail order in the spring of 2012 were tiny. One died due to the punishing double-whammy of summer drought and heat wave. The other struggled onward and put on a promising growth spurt in early 2013. I was sure that this year would be the year that S. confusa came into its own. But the plant looks to have sustained serious foliage damage from the arctic blasts of the winter of 2013-14. It's a little strange, since Sweet Box is rated as hardy at least to zone 5, but I'm thinking that rating probably applies to a sheltered forest setting rather than an exposed foundation planting. I guess I should have paid more attention to the warning to shelter S. confusa from winter winds (which would have meant not buying it at all, since I don't really have any significant shelter to offer at this point in my hilltop garden). With snow cover or a properly wooded setting, I think S. confusa might be a nice, modest plant for most of the year with the added of bonus of winter fragrance (provided it's nice enough to outdoors and do a little sniffing). But I can't see adding it to any garden of mine in the near future. It also grew very slowly - which has advantages in terms of not needing much pruning, but disadvantages if starting with a small plant and hoping to have any sort of near-term significant impact.

Autumn Joy, Sedum spectabile, January 2013

25) Sedums - I hope that I won't have to surrender my gardening license, but I have to admit that I don't really like sedums much. And in the interest of reciprocity, I have to admit that they don't seem to like me much either! I've tried a few different types - Sedum spectabile (e.g., Autumn Joy, Autumn Fire and Vera Jameson), as well as Sedum tectractinum (Chinese Stonecrop) and Sedum ternatum (Whorled Stonecrop, a Tennessee native). None of them have wowed me. The spectabile sedums have proven particularly disappointing this year - weak, spindly, beset by aphids, hardly attracting any beneficial insects even when they deigned to flower. I'm sure I'm doing something wrong here, because I've seen flourishing stands of Autumn Joy sedum on a garden tour. I will say that Autumn Joy sedum is very easy to propagate simply by breaking off a stem, removing the bottom leaves and sticking the stem in the ground. But what's the point of propagating something you don't like very much? No point at all.

Sempervivum "Red Rubin" April 2013

26) Sempervivum, Hens and Chicks, "Red Rubin" -- Simply failed to thrive. As a plant native to Northern Africa, Southern Europe and SW Asia, I'm guessing it did not appreciate our humidity or the heavy clay soil. It hasn't died a dramatic death, but rather seems to be subtly and quietly sinking into the background and being absorbed into the surrounding soil.

Tiarella cordifolia, Foamflower, May 2013 (the Tiarella is at the top of the photo, the bottom plant is Stachys officinalis, a.k.a. Betony or Hummelo

27) Tiarella cordifolia, Foamflower -- Somehow I overlooked the fact that these plants have low drought tolerance. Oops. Tennessee has frequent periods of drought, often coupled with high heat. I'm trying to grow a self-sufficient garden. Ergo, drought intolerant plants are doomed.

Verbascum phoeniceum, Mullein, photo by Kingsbrae Garden

28) Verbascum phoeniceum, Mullein -- This was a funny one. I know I read somewhere that these plants will rebloom if the flower stalks are cut back. So I cut it back. Did it rebloom? It did not. Argh! In addition, while the flowers were supposed to attract bees, hoverflies and moths, I never saw any visiting pollinators. I do recall reading that these pollinators are supposed to visit early in the day. Maybe I needed to check the Mullein at the crack of dawn? If it returns this year, I'll try to remember to set my alarm to go out and scout the flowers for any early-rising pollinators.

Vernonia noveboracensis, Ironweed, August 2013

29) Vernonia noveboracensis, Ironweed - Native plant enthusiasts tend to sing Ironweed's praises to the heavens, so perhaps my expectations were overinflated when it came to this plant. Regardless, I thought the sprays of little purple flowers were pretty, but short-lived. And I never saw those flowers attract a single bee or butterfly. Now it's possible that Ironweed might attract such pollinators if I planted a whole patch of it, but I'm not about to do the experiment when I have other plants I'd rather trial instead.

Veronica spicata, Spike Speedwell "Giles van Hees", June 2013

30) Veronica spicata, Spike Speedwell, Giles van Hees variety -- Once again, this was a case of flowers that were reputed to attract bees and butterflies not living up to that claim. Lest you think that I live in bee or butterfly free zone, there were plenty of both in the garden last year working plants such as Hypericum, Vitex, Crape Myrtle, Zinnia, Cosmos and several varieties of Sunflower. But they bypassed the Spike Speedwell completely. In addition, the middle part of the plant seemed to die out by late summer, although sections of the plant at the edges were still throwing up long-lasting flower spikes into autumn. This is somewhat of a mixed verdict. I'd like to see how the plant performs in the year ahead -- or even if it comes back at all -- but at this point I greatly prefer the Creeping Speedwell (V. peduncularis) over the spike variety.

Zinnia haageana "Persian Carpet" July 2013

31) Zinnia haageana "Persian Carpet" -- Here's the backstory: I grow Zinnia elegans partly for its beautiful flowers and partly for its potent ability to attract butterflies to the garden. Powdery mildew is the scourge of my Z. elegans, often killing the plants mid-summer and rendering them fairly hideous-looking in the process. Z. haageana promised mildew resistance and it certainly seemed at least somewhat resistant, but it didn't really matter. The petite yellow flowers held little interest for the butterflies and the plants themselves were diminutive and not particularly attractive. So it's back to the drawing board. I'm taking a break from sowing Zinnia seeds in 2014 (although I may allow some self-sown zinnias to grow if any seeds survive this harsh winter), but I'll be trialing one or more of the supposedly mildew-resistant Zinnia elegans varieties - such as Benary's Giant Purple - in 2015.


Thus ends a long and somewhat embarrassing role call. And yet, I am not (too) discouraged. This is a challenging environment for plants in many ways - the heat, cold, droughts, wind, heavy clay soil - not to mention a cold-hearted gardener who insists they get by on their own without too much coddling, fertilizing, watering, spraying or other interventions.

Well, I do whisper sweet nothings at them...

And I know that sooner or later, I'll winnow down the possibilities to find plants that were meant for me, plants with which I can build a long and fruitful relationship.

25 Gardening Mistakes That I Made in 2012!

I am not shy about admitting my errors in the hopes that others may learn from them.

Here are a list of plants that I trialed this year that either completely failed or did not grow as well as I had hoped. I have listed pros and cons where I felt the results were mixed.

1)  Abelmoschus esculentus, Okra, Emerald variety - Almost all the plants failed to thrive. I only harvested one okra pod - and that was from a plant that I transplanted. Not sure if the problem was the variety (I had much better success with Clemson Spineless last year) or the soil in the raised bed which seemed to become very hard and heavy this year. I dismantled that raised bed and practically had to use a pickaxe to break up the soil so that I could plant buffalo grass.

Aquilegia vulgaris "Winky" - The leaves actually look quite pretty now, but I've found that the foliage deteriorates rapidly especially in hot weather. If you cut it back, it will regenerate nicely. I had to cut this plant to the ground twice during the growing season to keep the foliage looking nice. I wonder if this process of needing to regenerate foliage all the time will exhaust the plant?

2) Aquilegia vulgaris, Columbine, "Winky" variety - The species Columbine is supposed to attract hummingbirds, but I didn't see any on either of my two Winky plants. I liked the long bloom season in the spring (around four weeks, maybe longer) and the foliage starts out really pretty, but it soon gets tattered and torn. I do like how you can cut the foliage down to the ground and it will resprout and look good in no time (though the plant will not rebloom). Perhaps the bloom would have lasted even longer if I had deadheaded the flowers, but I wanted the plant to produce seeds, which I tried scattering throughout a couple of my landscaped beds. I'm eager to see whether I get new plants next year. If the plant resows, I may consider it a success. I don't consider this an abject failures. I guess I'm still on the fence with Winky and will Aquilegia in general.

Pay no attention to the green weedy-looking plants covering the ground. Most are self-sown Calendula officinalis or Evening Stock (and a few are weeds). Try to focus on this few small vertical sticks in the middle of the photo. That's Aronia (Chokeberry). Supposed to be a small tree. It's not there yet. Maybe next year? It does have hints of pretty fall color.

3) Aronia, Chokeberry - I purchased three plants via mail order in quart-size pots. I got tiny bare sticks that seemed to really struggle in the heat and humidity of a Tennessee summer, even in partial shade. (The partial shade still received sun all morning and until 1 or 2 p.m. in the heat of the summer, and that might have been just too much for the little plants.) The good news is that they all survived, but they didn't grow much. Again, I'm on the fence with these. I have high hopes for next year. My mistake, I think, was to buy such small plants via mail order. If I could go back, I'd try to buy one or two larger plants and get them in the ground in the autumn to provide them with time to settle in. (The price at my favorite local nursery for a 3-gallon potted plant is only around double the price of the tiny quart-size plant I foolishly bought.) Apparently, Aronia's natural habitat is wet woods and swamps, so it may just not like being planted on a hilltop property. But I'm not giving up quite yet.

Callicarpa americana, American Beautyberry - Yep, it's the stick in the middle of the photo. No berries, not much beauty.

4) Callicarpa americana, American Beautyberry - Another tiny quart-size mail order plant. I tried it in a full-sun windy location where it constantly looked on the verge of death. With lots of supplemental water, it survived our scorching summer. I relocated it in September to a half-shade location in the front border. It didn't seem all that happy about being transplanted and dropped its leaves soon after, but we'll see if it comes back next year. Even if it does survive, I'm don't think I like the plant enough aesthetically to recommend it. The flowers are tiny. The leaves and form are unremarkable. The purple berries are nice, although small and they did not persist into winter nearly as long as I had thought they would. (I don't think any birds ate them, I think they just shriveled up and dropped off the plant.) A disappointment, but one that I'm not ready to shovel prune quite yet.

Calycanthus floridus, Carolina Allspice, Sweetshrub -- It's not surprising when the leaves look like this in autumn, but Calycanthus' leaves curled up and died throughout the year. Not good.

5) Calycanthus floridus, Carolina Allspice, Sweetshrub - Yet another tiny quart-size mail order plant. Even in a partial sun Eastern facing bed, it looked miserable most of the summer. It would put out a new leaf and then that leaf would curl up and die. At one point, I thought it was mostly dead, so I cut the small plant back nearly to the ground to see what would happen. That actually seemed to help. It put out a new branch with healthier-looking foliage. Of course, it stayed pretty small, but it seemed a little stronger near the end of the growing season and even had a bit of nice color change to yellow on the foliage. I'm on the fence with this one too. Wish I had bought a larger plant to start (could have bought a 3-gallon for $30 instead of a quart for $11). I learned a lot this year about being penny-wise and pound-foolish. Not only did most of the plants fail to grow as quickly as I had thought they might, I think they had a much harder time settling in than if I had bought a bigger plant with a more established root system. And whatever size I bought, I'm thinking I probably should have planted in autumn 2011 to give the plants lots of time to settle in and establish roots before the hot summer weather set in. (Of course, I had not yet finished tearing out the previous landscaping in Autumn 2011. I always feel like I am doing things at the Wrong Time in the garden, but I'm trying to learn better as I go along.)

Clematis integrifolia, Solitary clematis - Not a big fan of the twisty green leaves and you can see those brown stems radiating outwards. Are they dead? I'm not sure. As described below, the flowers have an interesting appearance, but the bloom time was short in my garden and I don't feel like the plant pulls its weight the rest of the year.

6) Clematis integrifolia - A queer little plant, sprawling, sickly looking twisted foliage. Eventually it did have a brief bloom period, but the flowers were so downcast and low to the ground that I can't say they added much ornamental value. Nor do I ever recall seeing a single bee or butterfly at the flowers, so the plant did not seem to add much wildlife value. For a while, it looked as though the plant would root along its stems, but eventually it seemed to give up that notion and just die back. It has greened up in the center again this autumn, but I'm still far from impressed. I'm tempted to shovel prune it, but since I don't need the space right now, I'll probably let it be. That said, I can't see myself ever planting it again or recommending it to anyone.

7) Coreopsis - Supposed to be easy to grow. Supposed to attract butterflies to the flowers and birds to the seeds. I didn't see any birds or butterflies, and the plant generally failed to thrive. When it did send up flowers, I thought they looked weedy and common. Yellow flowers are not my favorites anyway and these scarcely looked different from dandelions. Or maybe worse than dandelions since the flowers didn't last long and the dead ones persisted on the plant. (I have a strong dislike for plants that require deadheading to look decent.) I haven't seen the coreopsis in months. I think it got covered up by the triumphant French Marigolds, plus some leaning cosmos and zinnias. I'll be interested to see if it returns next year, but I won't be crying in my beer if it doesn't come back. (There are admittedly lots of coreopsis varieties. I've heard some, like Zagreb, are much tougher than others. I didn't keep a record of the variety I planted from a local nursery, but it looked a lot like what is listed elsewhere on the Internet as "Sunray". You can see a photo of the blooms in this post from earlier in the year.)

8) Cosmos, Dancing Petticoats and Double Click - Eventually, some of the Dancing Petticoats seeds sprouted and turned into beautiful plants, but I never saw any plants with Double Click flowers and even the Dancing Petticoats did not grow or germinate nearly as well as the plain Cosmos bipinnatus seeds that I bought at a supermarket last year. I guess the lesson here for me was that sometimes fancier hybrids might be a bit more delicate than a robust species. Or maybe I just got a bad batch of seed? Not sure. I'll buy a different type of cosmos for next year (although buying any cosmos at this point probably isn't necessary since I imagine there will be lots of self sown plants popping up in the garden next spring).

9) Cucumis sativus, Cucumber, Progress and Summer Delight - These Japanese type cucumbers were delicious! They were sweet, no trace of bitterness at all, and the thin skins were edible, which made preparation a breeze. Unfortunately, despite loads of flowers, fruit production was poor and the plants seemed unable to cope when the weather got hot. Despite trellising the vines and despite the fact that they were marketed as disease-resistant, they still came down with some sort of disease - most likely bacterial wilt and/or powdery mildew. After that happened, the vines quickly declined and died. I got much better yields last year with the Burpee Hybrid II strain even though those (untrellised) plants eventually got some disease (powdery mildew) also. As mentioned in earlier posts, I won't be growing any veggies next year (due to the need to spray weed killer on the adjacent lawn) but next time I grow cukes, I'll be moving on to try yet another variety.

10) Fragaria vesca alba, Everbearing White Strawberry - Total failure. Strawberries that I grew in the ground last year were eaten by something (slugs?) so I tried growing these strawberries in a pot. In full Tennessee afternoon sun, they were burned to a crisp. I moved them to a shadier spot, but they failed to recover. I don't think I was meant to grow strawberries. In fact, at this point I'm amazed that anyone can get a strawberry crop, at least using organic methods. I talked to one grower at a farmer's market who had planted a long row of strawberry plants and harvested a single pint. I don't think I was meant to grow strawberries and I'm not at all sure that the plants were meant to grow in Tennessee at all.

11) Hemerocallis, Daylilies - I'm still not a huge fan. In fact, I don't understand why they are so popular. They look awful in the heat of summer, recover a bit in autumn and then look awful again in winter. The dormant ones look particularly bad in winter and the semi-dormant ones seem to be worse in terms of harboring aphids so that the foliage and blooms are damaged come springtime. I'll admit that the flowers are pretty, but they don't seem to have much wildlife value (I can't recall ever seeing a bee or butterfly at a daylily blossom) and it's tedious to deadhead the spent blooms and scapes. An awful lot of work for not much reward. I doubt I'll remove them from the landscape simply because I think I learned my lesson from the front border about needlessly removing functional plants, but if I were planning to stay 20 years and completely redo the landscape to my liking, I have a feeling the daylilies would be replaced sooner rather than later. As it is, they may still be here when we leave, but I don't think I would ever purposely buy or plant them.

12) Lavatera trimestris, Silver Cup - Tried growing from seed, but did not get any germination via direct sowing method. Maybe a bad batch of seeds or maybe they need coddling in a controlled seed-starting environment? Regardless, I don't plan on trying to direct sow again, though if I ever saw a plant at a nursery, I might try buying and planting it.

13) Linum grandiflorum rubrum, Scarlet Flax - Same story here - tried direct sowing, but got zero germination.

14) Lonicera sempervivens, Coral Honeysuckle, "Alabama Crimson" and "Blanche Sandman" - I'm on the fence with this one, which could be a fun since this is a vine that I tried to get to grow on my porch railing. Unfortunately, the vine does not really grab onto anything, so I'd have to tie it to the railing, which I have not done at this point. Still, that's not the vine's fault. It is just following its nature. I don't really have any objection to these plants. They did not grow as much as I would have hoped, but they are perennial so hopefully they will be bigger and stronger next year. I tried planting two in partial shade. One did not have any flowers this year. The other had a few flowers, but the long tubular red flowers take a long time to unfurl and then they quickly dropped off. They are supposed to attract hummingbirds, but I did not see any at the plant. Then again, there weren't many flowers so perhaps the hummingbirds simply didn't notice them. I do like how the vine still has most of its leaves. I think they are supposed to be semi-evergreen in our area. Anyway, I'm not opposed to these plants by any means, just wish they had done better here. But they did survive and get bigger and I still have high hopes for next year. (Floridata has a nice description of the virtues of Coral Honeysuckle.)

15) Lonicera periclymeneum, Harlequin and Serotina varieties - Now these Loniceras did not impress me at all. I tried planting one in partial sun and one in full sun. Both of them were baked to a crisp and disappeared in our hot summer despite plenty of supplemental watering. Since the natural range, according to Paghat, is as far north as Sweden, I guess I should not have been too surprised that they didn't care for Tennessee's climate or soil. (On the other hand, Paghat says their range does extend to North Africa, which I would have imagined should have accustomed them to hot weather...)

Wild-looking seedpod for Nigella damascena, Love-in-a-Mist, photo by Katie Dalton

16) Nigella damascena, Love-in-a-Mist - Nothing really wrong with these dimunitive flowers. They're actually sort of interesting, but they are so small that they are easy to overlook. I think they are cool, but I can't recommend planting them as more than a curiosity, although I may change my mind if they have self-sowed and return next year.

17) Capiscum annuum, Peppers, Jimmy Nardello and Yellow Asti - I had a hard time growing peppers this summer. I started with transplants, not seeds, and the transplants really struggled in the heat. (I thought peppers were supposed to like heat?) As the plants were starting to grow, they kept getting devoured by something. I eventually caught a large caterpillar - I believe a tomato hornworm - on one of the plants. But by then it was too late. I think I eventually harvested one small pepper whose taste was unremarkable. I'm totally willing to accept that I screwed up and that the failure of the pepper harvest was my fault. But by buying peppers at the farmers market this summer, I also came to the realization that I don't think I am a huge pepper fan and that therefore I would probably prefer to spend my time and energy on other crops, especially ones that are easier to grow from seed in Tennessee.

18) Phaseolus vulgaris, Beans, Emerite and Musica - I had an awful time trying to grow pole beans this year. Last year, I grew bush beans and those didn't fare very well, so I thought I'd try the pole beans this year since they are supposed to be more prolific. The vines grew very well at first, but the beans were attacked by beetles (bean beetles?) that damaged the foliage and ruined many of the pods. And besides, the pods were small and twisty (perhaps because of the insect damage), nothing like the pods you find in the grocery store or at the farmers market. Again, from experience buying beans at the farmers market, I don't think I am such a huge fan of pole beans, so I doubt I would try growing them again anytime soon. Fortunately, my pea crop turned out well in the spring and I like eating peas much more than beans, so perhaps I'll just concentrate on growing peas and leave the beans to those who can grow them better than I can! :)

19) Phlox paniculata, Garden Phlox, David - First of all, you supposedly need to divide this plant every few years to keep it vigorous. I am not a big fan of plants that require the work of division. Secondly, the plant just doesn't seem to do all that great in my Tennessee garden. It dies to the ground in winter, takes a while to emerge in the spring. After it does emerge, it takes a while to flower and by that time, it is getting toward summer and the plant is not really fond of hot weather, so it stops flowering again and then you just have a lot of dried dead brown flowers on the plant. I do have to say that I kind of like the scent of the flowers when it is in bloom, although you'll have to kneel down and smell them up close if you want to get the scent. This phlox did seem to overwinter easily in our garden and two of the three plants even multiplied. It seems pretty tough and was even able to survive a brutal summer here in more or less full sun. So I don't dislike Phlox paniculata. I certainly like it better than daylilies. But it's still far from my favorite plant at this point and not one that I would rush to plant in a new garden or recommend to a friend. I also tend to prefer plants with strong wildlife value for beneficial insects and I don't recall seeing many (any?) bees or butterflies around the Garden Phlox.

20) Rudbeckia, Black-Eyed Susan, "Summer Blaze" - It was supposed to be tough, but the Rudbeckia that I planted this past spring baked and withered away in our Tennessee summer. Yes, I killed Rudbeckia. Do I get a Black Thumb medal? (I've heard that different Rudbeckias have different levels of toughness. Maybe I just planted the wrong variety? I have to admit I'm intrigued by Rudbeckia nitida, Herbstonne...)

21) Salvia elegans, Pineapple Sage - First of all, I tried flavoring some water with the leaves of pineapple sage and failed to discern even a hint of pineapple flavor. Second, despite the beautiful sprays of red flowers in autumn, the plant looked miserable most of the summer. It seems to hate heat and detest drought. Accordingly, while I think this is a lovely plant, I just don't think it is suited to Tennessee. Fortunately, I probably won't need to worry about that - since the plant is only rated as hardy to zone 8, I doubt it will return next year. For now, I'm still enjoying those long-lasting red fall flowers!

22) Sarcococca confusa, Sweet Box - It was supposed to have fragrant winter flowers followed by black berries to attract birds. It was supposed to be drought tolerant (once established). I bought two tiny seedlings. One died in the drought. The other nearly died and is just hanging on. It may do better next year, but the growth rate is painfully slow. At its current growth rate, it might make a nice foundation shrub in 10-20 years.

23) Smilacina racemosa, Solomon's Plume - Bought for the fragrant spring flowers followed by berries. It completely failed to thrive, leaves turned brown and it quickly disappeared. Maybe it needed more acidic soil? Maybe it was just miserable in the heat and drought (despite supplemental water)? Maybe it needed more shade? In any case, I doubt I would try it again.

24) Tropaeolum majus, Nasturtium - Purchased for interesting foliage and edible flowers, but I never saw any blooms because the seeds took a long time to germinate and then the plants faded away in the heat of summer. Some new seedlings have actually sprouted now in the autumn, but since the plants are only hardy to zone 9, I presume that I missed my chance. I guess my only hope might be that some notoriously hard-to-germinate nasturtium seeds that did not germinate might still overwinter and sprout early next spring in order to flower before the heat sets in. I'm sure this is a lovely plant in the right climate and setting, but I can't imagine ever planting it again here in Tennessee. (I should have been clued in by Texas A&M which notes that the plants are "native to the cool highlands of mountains extending from Mexico to central Argentina and Chile." Cool mountain highlands does not describe my Middle Tennessee garden!)

25) Viola tricolor, Johnny Jump Up - There's nothing particularly wrong with these flowers. I sowed the seeds because they were supposed to bloom for a long time (some guides suggested 12-19 weeks of blooms!) and because the flowers were supposed to be edible. I did try to eat some of the flowers, but did not find the experience particularly enjoyable. As for the aesthetic value, the plants are tiny so that you really need to be on hands-and-knees to appreciate the beauty. They are cute and I certainly would have no objection to find some scattered here and there in the garden, but I don't think I would go out of my way to sow them again. As for wildlife value, I can't recall seeing any bees or butterflies visiting Viola tricolor.


So there you go. A lot of lessons learned! I'll try not to make the same mistakes again, because why repeat yourself when you can make new mistakes? :)

If anyone has good luck growing any of the plants listed above and wants to let me know I screwed up -- or even wants to stand up and defend a plant that I've disparaged -- I'm eager to hear your opinion in the Comments section!

PS - If you'd like to stay abreast of the latest developments at Garden of Aaron, you can now subscribe via email! Totally convenient, totally free - what could be nicer?

The Heat is On! Which plants can survive a hot, dry Tennessee summer?

Pineapple Sage (Salvia elegans), not so drought-tolerant after all

The other night, I heard that nearby Franklin, Tennessee has started requesting voluntary water conservation from its citizens.

There hasn't been much news about the drought yet (despite the fact that Tennessee's rivers are at or near historic lows this year), but I can tell you that it is hot and dry.

We're talking mid-90s Fahrenheit (~35 Celsius) every day with high pressure parked over the region and no rain in sight.

Lawns up and down the street are turning brown, despite the fact that most people are watering daily. (I find lawn watering awfully wasteful, so I use our irrigation system a few days a week and feel guilty even using it that much. So our lawn is browner than most.)

But I don't care much about lawns. If I could afford it, if our HOA would allow it and if I thought it wouldn't adversely affect retail value, I'd rip it all out and replace it with landscaping with greater ornamental value and greater wildlife value for bees, butterflies, birds and other critters.

But that raises the pertinent question of what plants can survive the extremes of a mid-Tennessee summer. And I can tell you right now that it's not looking pretty.

Take the Pineapple Sage (Salvia elegans) at the top of this post. I thought this was supposed to be heat and drought tolerant, full sun plant. Apparently, I was misinformed. On closer research today, I discovered from Floridata that pineapple sage needs regular watering for best growth and flowering. Apparently it can sometimes survive a drought by wilting and dropping its leaves, but it won't thrive in drought conditions.

(Floridata also says that pineapple sage is best suited for zones 9-11, so I really goofed when I bought the plant for my zone 7 garden!)

What about zinnia? The University of Florida extension service describes zinnias as being a drought-tolerant annual. Floridata (one of my favorite information sources, despite the fact that I don't live or garden in Florida) describes zinnias as being "quite drought tolerant" plants that do best in full sun. The plant shown below must not have gotten the memo, as it is looking cooked. (I will note that now that I am scouring plant descriptions specifically looking for drought tolerance, I notice that many merchants, such as Burpee, emphasize that zinnias are heat tolerant without mentioning drought tolerance. Maybe zinnias are moderately drought tolerant, but do better in hot and wet places?)

Zinnia

How about Russian Sage? As you can see below, the plants are still rocking away and producing a profusion of blooms that attract a happy chorus of buzzing bees all day long.

Russian Sage (Perovskia atriplicifolia)

And yet, the picture isn't quite as pretty just a bit further down each plant where the leaves are yellowing, browning, turning yellow and falling off. What's the reason? Various Internet sources suggest either (a) too much water, (b) too little water or (c) shedding leaves as normal behavior. The mighty Missouri Botanical Garden says that Russian Sage (Perovskia atriplicifolia) tolerates clay soil, dry soil and drought, which pretty much precisely describes its environment. And yet, there's no mention of yellowing leaves...

Russian Sage (Perovskia atriplicifolia), yellowing leaves

Well, let's not make this post all doom and gloom! The good news is that after weeks of teasing with nothing but foliage, the French Marigolds (Tagetes patula) have started to burst into bloom. True, the 'Sparky Mix' seeds I bought from EverWilde were supposed to grow into plants 12-inches tall, whereas the actual plants are less than half that height, but the flowers are endearingly luminous.

French Marigold (Tagetes patula)

Some of the leaves Natchez crape myrtles are looking a little limp, but the trees themselves are covered in blooms. I think we have many more flowers this year than last year.

Natchez Crape Myrtle

And Purple Cone Flower (Echinacea purpurea) is still going strong, to the delight of bees and butterflies. (At least, I think these are butterflies, operating on the layman's assumption that moths land with wings flat and butterflies fold their wings...) University of Maryland's Cooperative Extension describes purple cone flower as "quite drought tolerant," while University of Delaware's Extension service describes Echinacea purpurea as being "very drought resistant." Interestingly, definitions of drought tolerance may differ here in the U.S. versus across the pond in Europe. I found one U.K. site that says Echinacea needs water at least weekly in full sun. I'm guessing that is the case, as a couple of my Echinacea are looking a little drought-stressed (though they're still getting by much better than the pineapple sage or the zinnia). Perhaps in very hot areas with drought risk it makes sense to ignore the usual full sun recommendation and plant Echinacea where it will get some afternoon shade?

Echincea purpurea, standing tall for now despite the drought

We have four or five of the Natchez crape myrtles in full sun, as well as an unidentified lavender crape myrtle that gets less morning sun, though it does get plenty of solar radiation in the afternoon. This specimen is thriving, growing vigorously and not exhibiting any signs of drought stress. Of course, it also has hardly any flowers at this point, but the one bunch of lavender flowers that has opened looks lovely and has a light, sweet fragrance.

Lavender crape myrtle flowers

 Over to the front of the house (morning sun, afternoon shade), we find that Calycanthus floridus, also known as Carolina allspice or sweetshrub. Floridata says that Calycanthus likes moist soils, but can survive drought. I've been giving the plant a deep watering twice a week and so far it seems to be limping along with just a bit of leaf tip browning. The plant is native to the Southeastern U.S. and is supposed to have fragrant spring flowers. Obviously no flowers this year as this tiny plant (purchased through mail order) is just getting established, but I'm hoping I can nurture it through the drought so that I can enjoy its flowers next spring.

Calycanthus floridus, Carolina allspice, sweetshrub

Last but not least, here's a look at an Ajuga reptans that seems to have happily established itself in one of the shadier corners at the front of house. North Carolina State University (NCSU) includes ajuga on its list of drought tolerant plants, and this specimen certainly seems to be living up to its reputation, perhaps helped by the fact that it gets shade from about 10 a.m. onwards. It's not a particularly flashy plant, but I've definitely come to appreciate ajuga's shiny, classy foliage. I'm hoping it spreads into a sizeable groundcover, and I suspect that next year I'll be able to enjoy more of its blue flower spikes.

Ajuga reptans

That's all for now. I didn't include any photos (to keep this post at a somewhat manageable size) but I can tell you that the Autumn Joy sedum and the phlox paniculata (shown in the June 21) post are both doing fine. Both sedum and the phlox are on the NCSU list of drought-tolerant plants.

The drought has struck harder and earlier than usual in Tennessee, but we're certainly no stranger to droughts here and this experience has only reinforced my feelings on the importance of planting drought-tolerant or drought-resistant plants in any climate that is prone to water shortages. It seems to me this makes sense for two reasons: (1) You may enjoy watering (I do), but it's nice to know that your plants can survive for an extended period of time if circumstances prevent you from watering for one reason or another, and (2) with 300+ million people in the U.S. and 7+ billion people around the world, planting a landscape that needs lots and lots of supplemental water doesn't seem like such a swell idea.


Dear readers, I'd like to get your thoughts on a few questions:

1. Is your garden facing drought now or have you faced drought recently?

2. If you've encountered drought in your garden (now or in the past), what have turned out to be the toughest and most drought-tolerant plants in your experience?

3. How do you define drought-tolerant? Is a drought-tolerant plant in your garden one that only needs water once a week? Once a month? Never needs any supplemental water?

Thanks for reading! And let's hope for rain -- 'cause it's a good thing!

PS - Curious as to what's going on in the veggie garden? Check back in a couple of days for an update on the tomatoes, cucumber, pole beans, okra and more!