Grant Meyer

Guess who's not coming to dinner?

2012-01-29T15:04:00.001-08:00

I don't know about you, but I grow a LOT of plants in pot. A LOT. Some seem to perform better in pots, others need to move around the house or the garden depending on seasonal lighting, and some just look better.

Most plants grown in pots like to get crowded in the pot before being replanted. Over-potting (putting a plant into a pot that's too large) is the number three killer of plants (after over-watering and over-fertilizing). Over-potting is a serious offense when it comes to plants as it can lead to rot, fungus, bacterial nastiness and all sorts of trouble for our plants.

I know, I know. It's totally counter-intuitive. How can a philodendron that grows in the endless ground in the wild, or in warm-winter landscapes develop problems in a pot that's too large?? Basically it comes down to the artificiality of growing in a pot--solid sides, often deep, and occasionally an overly caring gardener. The issue occurs when a plant with a small root ball is suddenly planted in a huge pot of soil (potting soil, hopefully!). The large pot now has a large space of potting soil between the plant's small root ball and the edge of the pot. When watered frequently, that uninhabited soil stays wet for too long (because the small root ball hasn't had time to grow out into the new soil). When soil stays wet for too long, it's an open invitation to fungus, mold, and bacteria to move in. The lesson here? Let's move our plants up into pots that are only slightly larger than their current pots. A pot that's two inches larger than the current pot, gives the rootball one inch of new soil to colonize all the way around. That's plenty, and it's small enough that the roots can move in to the new soil before trouble sets in.

So let's agree, let's move our plants up only into slightly larger pots than their current pots. That's absolutely the safest policy. The downside? If a plant has a lot of foliage, or stems, or thorns, that spread out, it can be hard to get soil "down" into the new small crevice between the current root ball and the new pot's edge. I can't tell you how many leaves I've accidentally snapped, or stems that I've broken, by trying to use my fingers to press down potting soil into the vacant space between a root ball and its new pot.

The solution? Silverware. Yup, silverware. Okay, not SILVERware, but some sort of dining flatware. NOTHING is better than the back end of a dinner knife for helping push new soil down between a root ball and a pot's inner edge. NOTHING. If the pot is the same size as the old pot the actual non-sharp knife blade will work nicely (like when you repot from plastic to terracotta, or any change between pots of the same size). I've used forks to tease out roots before planting plants into pots or into soil. I measure fertilizers with teaspoons, and yup, I even divide densely grown plants with a long, sharp, serrated bread knife, cutting right down a rootball in a merciful second, rather than hacking and yanking on it for minutes with my hands.

Of course, I'm not suggesting you use your good kitchenware to do these tasks (though as a born and bred gardener I wouldn't mind, actually), so head on out to your nearest garage sale, or discount store, or thrift store (thank you, Goodwill!) and pick up the basics: a teaspoon, a tablespoon, a non-sharp dinner knife, and a nice long serrated bread knife and have at it. I'm telling you, setting the table for gardening sure beats using a dibble, or your fingers, for some of our finer gardening tasks. The easiest way to store them is to fill a pot or jar with builder's sand (playground sand) and jab the silverware in it when not in use.

Here's a quick pic of just a few of my gardening silverware. Not pictured are some large fiberglass salad bowls from the 1970's for mixing soil (they seem to last longer in the sunlight than plastic), several serrated knives, and a very nice selection of forks (and as with eating, I categorically refuse to use forks with an even-number of tines; I don't trust them).

So, set your potting bench for dinner, and let me know how it works.
Happy gardening!
Grant

Falling in love again (Christmas and Thanksgiving cacti)

2011-12-18T15:58:00.000-08:00

Okay, I admit it--I'm fickle. I'm fascinated with a certain type of plant one month, and then I forget about it the next. When it comes to Christmas cacti and Thanksgiving cacti, it's a yearly event: each mid-winter I fall in love with them for their durability, and their beautiful, reliable blooms. Even when they're not in bloom, they are low-care, easy, durable houseplants.

There's been a secret rebellion going on among the so-called Holiday Cacti (sometimes called Zygocacti, especially by folks in the Southern Hemisphere, where the plants bloom in THEIR winter, which does not coincide with Christmas (their summer), and/or where they don't celebrate Thanksgiving). In any case, there has been a demographic shift: nearly all plants sold in the US, Canada, and Europe as Christmas cacti really are Thanksgiving cacti in disguise. Okay, not in disguise, but in bloom. I'm attaching a pic of one of mine in bloom in my living room.

It's absolutely nothing to fret over, or obsess over--it's merely a matter of marketing and timing. Thanksgiving cacti (the ones with the rubbery appendages or points along the leaf edges) bloom earlier than Christmas cacti (the ones with the smooth, rounded stem segments). That means it's easier to sell a Thanksgiving cactus that's blooming just prior to Christmas than it is to sell a Christmas cactus that won't be in bloom until a bit AFTER Christmas. Plus, Thanksgiving cacti are a bit more durable when it comes to shipping and handling. All of this adds up to a population shift: nearly everything referred to as a "Christmas cactus" really is a Thanksgiving cactus. No worries, though, they're both great and both want the same care.

Just give them very bright indirect light; some morning sun is okay. They bloom in response to long nights/short days, so they bloom in winter. If you live in a cold winter/warm summer area, you can put your plant outside in shade in early summer when the weather has settled, and leave it there until frost seriously threatens. By then your plant will most likely be loaded with flower buds due to the cool, long nights and short days. If you can't, or would rather not, put your plant outside, just give them the coolest spot in your home and give them a spot with as LITTLE artificial light after sunset as possible. As long as they can sense that the nights are long and the days are short, they'll bloom for you. I grow most of mine indoors year round, and even here in warm Phoenix they bloom reliably each winter indoors. Again, remember to give them as little artificial light as possible after sunset.

Thanksgiving and Christmas cacti (Schlumbera, botanically speaking) are easy to propagate from stem cuttings. Some folks like to root them in soil, others (me included) prefer water. The new roots form at the bottom of a stem segment. I've started several plants from a single segment--just keep the bottom (only) half in water and it will root in a few weeks. When the roots are a few inches long, plant it in a small pot of potting soil, and voila! A new plant! Sometimes you'll even notice small air roots forming on the stems of a plant itself.

The red flowering types are the most vigorous and durable--it's best to start with those stalwarts. Pinks, whites, and magentas are next in terms of vigor. The new yellow flowered types are the least vigorous, so save those for after you have experience. The more yellow in a plant's heritage, the more finicky it will be (so things like apricot, caramel, and orange are fussier in general than reds and whites). None is particularly fussy, but just make a note that red is the most durable.

Most Schlumbergera trace their heritage to the jungles of Brazil and Argentina, although early on in their domestication they were cross-hybridizing and labels were mixed up, so they have an interesting, obscure heritage.

If you're looking for a plant that stays green all year, can get quite dry between waterings, and that blooms each mid-winter with a taste of the tropics, then give a Christmas or Thanksgiving cactus a try. If you purchase one in bloom, it may drop its buds due to being moved, but put it where you want it and you'll have blooms each winter, like clockwork. Give them a try and let me know what you think.

Happy gardening indoors and out,
Grant

Is that a dumpster I smell? No, it's a Stapelia flower.

2011-10-16T15:34:00.000-07:00

Okay, okay, I admit it, I'm juvenile in many ways. I love growing plants that are big, because they remind me of being a kid and looking up at iris blooms on the side of my parent's first house (that I barely remember--I grew up mostly in house #2). I love growing plants with interesting scents (chocolate cosmos, honeysuckle, and the star of this blog, Stapelia) because they too remind me of being a kid and that strange sense of discovery. That's my disclaimer for growing Stapelias, the subject of today's blog, and a perfect plant to discuss during the Halloween season (or any season, frankly).

Why, you ask? Well, first off, the plants evolved in areas of Africa where there are no native pollinating bees, so the plants' path to success was to evolve to produce flowers that look like, and often smell like, rotting meat, to attract ants and flies which do the job of pollination (while seeking a good place to lay eggs or eat some faux-carcass). Now don't get me wrong, I know these plants are a bit bizarre, but bizarre can be fun. The scent isn't usually noticeable from more than three or four feet, but if you get your nose within six inches of an open bloom, especially on a warm sunny afternoon, be prepared, it can smell absolutely evil. The rancid smell makes me chuckle of course, like kids saying "Gross, smell this!", and worse yet, other kids doing actually smelling it.

Luckily for folks in mild winter areas like Phoenix, these plants can be grown outside year round, which includes their spring and autumn flushes of bloom. Even so, many people grow them as windowsill and greenhouse plants and tolerate the stench while the blooms are open.

Indoors they are sun worshippers, so give them as much as you can, and water them only when quite dry (they're succulents after all). Outdoors give them some afternoon shade and protection from hard frosts to keep them happy. My best crops are on the east side of the house where they get sunshine from sunrise until mid-day, and then bright shade for the rest of the day. I water them once a week when it's hot, and once every six weeks when it's not. It's perfectly acceptable to let them shrivel a bit in winter due to reduced watering--it will help them survive the rare frosts better. I slop some all purpose fertilizer on them once or twice in spring and then again in very early summer, and not at all during the hottest and coolest month of the year.

If you're lucky, you'll get seedpods on occasion. They give away Stapelia's relationship to milkweeds as the plants usually produce two horned pods filled with small dry seeds with large fluffy plumes which will carry the seeds away on the slightest breeze. Keep an eye on the seed pods if you want to save the seed--you can put a small mesh bag on them when they're starting to split, or you can put a rubber band or twist-tie on the pod as the seam starts to split. Pluck off the plume, plant the seed in good potting soil in sun, and you'll have new seedlings in a week or two.

On occasion I save seeds from my plants and give them away, or trade them away, and even keep a few to plant and grow too. Currently I've got twenty or thirty seedlings making very nice growth in various parts of the garden. Most stapelias (sometimes called "starfish flower" for the shape of the bloom, or "carrion lily" for the scent of the bloom) are not self fertile, so if you want seeds it's usually best to grow several types. And yes, there are many, many types. Some produce hand-sized blooms of tan with burgundy stripes with blooms that smell of rotten hamburger meat; others produce small, scab-colored furry stars. If you grow several types you're seedlings will be mutts/hybrids/mongrels, depending on how you like to describe things (I'll go for "hybrids"), with a variety of shapes, sizes and scents (rotten fried chicken? city dumpster? wet socks?). I'm eagerly looking forward to seeing what my latest crop of seedlings produces. Believe it or not, there are several online and in-person clubs and associations dedicated just to growing stapelias (and their relatives, the Stapeliads, a group which includes many different genera like Huernia, Orbea, and several dozen others). There are even several specialty books on Stapeliads too (and yes, I've purchased them all).

So if you want something bizarre, otherworldly, easy to grow, think about giving these plants a place in your collection. They make a surprisingly good succulent ground cover--and they're always good as a conversation starter, even if you need to have the conversation from six (or more) feet away.

Let me know if you give them a try.

Happy gardening indoors and out,

Grant

Nothing to be superstitious about: Abutilon palmeri

2011-09-25T09:21:00.000-07:00

What's in a name?? A lot, if you take things literally. Yup, we're talking about the wonderful Superstition Mallow, Abutilon palmeri. Unlike plants like "deadly nightshade" which are, in fact, deadly, there's nothing to be superstitious about when it comes to superstition mallow--it's named after the Superstition Mountains in Arizona, where it grows abundantly.

Superstition mallow easily gives away its kinship with hollyhocks, mallow, and cotton. The small hibiscus-like blooms give it away. It's a wonderful short-lived perennial for warm-winter areas, typically lasting two to five years before dying out. It's surprisingly low water, too, staying happy with just enough water to keep it from wilting. Here in the Phoenix, Arizona area, that means water maybe once every ten days in summer and once a month in winter when grown in full sun. Your mileage will vary. Of course, that doesn't mean you can buy one in July, plant it, and not water it for ten days; it means that an established plant (one that's been happily growing in the same spot for a year or so) can go a surprisingly long time without water. In fact, giving it too much water will greatly shorten its lifespan.

If you like to let your garden plants help your garden design, like I do, then let it self-sow a bit by leaving some seed pods on the plant to ripen and drop seeds (or occasionally collect the seeds from ripe seed pods and toss them here-and-there in your garden). The seedlings will pop up and thrive in locations that suit them best. Usually that means a location that will need the minimum amount of attention from you, and usually a location that will create an interesting composition--like near a low-water aloe or cactus. Furry, silver-green leaves and orange-yellow blooms (or is that yellow-orange?) make a wonderful contrast to bulky succulents or rigid hardscape.

Supersition mallow behaves like a semi-woody shrub. My general routine is to let it burst into growth and bloom in late spring, and when it starts setting seed and looking a bit woody and ratty in mid-summer, I cut it back to about 18 inches. Then, in early autumn (right now in my little garden) it makes a new flush of growth and blooms and continues looking good through most of the winter. Even in summer, when its growth slows down, the furry gray-green leaves make a nice contrast to the green skin of an aloe or cactus, or the green foliage of something like an oleander, hibiscus, or fairy duster (Calliandra).

If you can resist the temptation to always reach for the watering can, and want to grow a plant that loves heat and blooms nine months out of the year (in mild winter areas, otherwise grow it as a fun summer annual), then why not give Superstition mallow a try? There's nothing to fear. Let me know how it works out for you.

Happy gardening indoors and out,

Grant

Datura: a plant that celebrates summer

2011-08-30T07:12:00.000-07:00

Let's face it: summer can be hot. In Phoenix, autumns and springs can be hot too. What's a gardener to do? Well, besides wearing a wide brimmed hat, and sunblock, and doing most summer garden chores early in the day, we can plant something that celebrates summer in any warm summer area: datura. Oh sure, midwestern farmers call it "jimsonweed", but you know what they say, one person's weed is another's garden treasure, and unless you're growing rows of soybeans, think about giving datura a try.

Let's start with the best-of-breed: Datura meteloides. This big, bold, brash plant produces hand-sized white tubular flowers that open just as the sun sets (pull up a chair, and a glass of something chilled, and a bud will swirl open in about fifteen minutes). The blooms are large, white, and very, very fragrant. I've attached a picture from my little garden as a testament--I included a tennis ball to show relative size. As I type this, my little garden is perfumed with a sweet floral aroma from the three or four blooms that are still open on this warm August morning. The leaves are the size two playing cards set side-by-side, and the plant becomes a nice shrub by summer's end. In mild winter areas the plant is a perennial--bouncing back from the roots in late spring. Live in a cold winter area? Don't despair, Datura meteloides blooms easily and quickly from seed, so it's a perfectly fine summer annual too, especially if you get it started early. Here in Phoenix, it often doesn't die to the ground in frostless winters, but I still play Jack Frost and cut it almost-ground-level in February, just to keep it in bounds. Even when grown as a summer annual, this plant gets big. Really big, so give it at least a 3x3 foot space for growing, and even then if you have a long warm summer it will outgrow that. Like most gardeners, I tend to over-plant and not give plants enough room for their mature size, so by August in most years I'm hacking huge stems off of my daturas because they're so vigorous and I don't want them to smother or shade nearby plants. I say that's not a bad problem to have.

Let's talk downsides. They're few and far between. We've already talked about size, and I rarely consider an overly vigorous, large plant to be a downside (sure beats keeping something nursed along on life support). Like any plant that blooms, there are dropped flowers to clean up now and then (an easy task). Oh, the foliage is toxic, not poisonous, so if you have stupid pets or children you might not want to plant it, but truly, the foliage tastes so bitter very few creatures would intentionally take more than one nibble. The final drawback is one that I find a feature: the plant attracts night flying hover moths (a.k.a. "hummingbird moths") night-flying hummingbird-sized moths that pollinate the alluring blooms. What's the drawback there? Well, the caterpillar of the hovermoth is the familiar "tomato hornworm" caterpillar, not exactly a tomato grower's best friend. The solution? Pick off the caterpillars if you don't want them, or apply Bt (Bacillus thurengiensis) a bacteria that specifically kills caterpillars, or just tolerate some foliage damage.

The caterpillars eat foliage on any tomato/potato/nicotiana relatives, so they're not specific to daturas. When I find a caterpillar on a tomato plant, I just relocate it to a datura and off it goes. I occasionally re-distribute the caterpillars from heavily-munched plants to those with less foliage damage, but I've never had a datura plant that didn't outgrow any caterpillar. If you let the caterpillars have their way, they'll quickly turn in to truly amazing flying acrobats that will do spellbinding tricks in the air while pollinating your daturas (and laying the occasional egg).

Here in Phoenix where summer sun is brutal, my best daturas are grown in locations where they get afternoon shade, so locations with a wall, or structure, or shade-giving plant to their west is ideal. I slop water on them twice a week when it's brutally hot, once a week when it's warm, and then once a month when its cool. I dead head the plants routinely (meaning I snip off the forming seeds pods and faded blooms so that plant continues to try to make more seed by blooming). Then, in autumn, I leave a few seed pods to form to make sure I have extra seeds to share or replant when one of the larger plants finally becomes compost (they'll live 3-5 years in truly mild winter areas).

Daturas (blooms that point up) used to be in the same genus as Brugmansias (blooms that dangle down), but that was long ago and best forgotten. Daturas are easy to grow from seed--just plant in the ground or in good potting soil and keep warm and moist. Their germination rate is random by design: some seeds will sprout within two or three weeks and others will wait months (a trick meant to allow some seeds to evade a short term drought that would destroy their already-sprouted, or yet-to-sprout siblings). If you live in USDA zone 7 or warmer, just toss some seeds around your garden in autumn and you'll get seedlings in spring.

Big blooms, wonderful fragrance, and an imposing garden presence--why not give datura a try? Email me and let me know how it worked out. It's a plant that forces you to join along in the celebration of summer, no matter how hot, and that in itself is something to celebrate too.

Happy gardening indoors and out,

Grant

A pot of gold (or any other color for that matter)

2011-08-14T10:08:00.000-07:00

Let's just say it: I love color. Bold, bright color. The more the better, especially when it comes to gardening. The easier the better too. One easy way to achieve color is to use brightly colored pots for your plants. Oh sure, it's cheating, but when it comes to results, why not go the easy way?

In my last Scottsdale, Arizona garden, I went crazy for blue glazed pots. I thought it gave the illusion of water, and cooler temperatures, not bad things when you live someplace with one hundred days above one hundred (F) a year. People loved it, and I did too. In my current Scottsdale garden, I've changed my tune and have gone with deep, ruby reds. I feel like the red is a bit more harmonious with all of the hundreds of reddish-pink terracotta pots that I've filled with various plants, and it contrasts nicely with the tan adobe walls that surround the garden. Whether a plant is blooming or not, having a colored pot adds color year round. I've attached a picture from my little garden, showing some cacti that had been in the ground that I dug up and potted into very large, glazed pots. Yes, that's a tennis ball. Yes, it's on purpose (to show relative sizes). In addition to easy, effortless color (once purchased, planted, and placed), these pots also add a bit of verticality to the plants too, and add a bit of spice.

Not all of my colored pots match exactly, but they're all in the same family--somewhere between ruby red, pomegranate red, and wet-brick red. I've filled them with everything from lantanas, to agaves, to dwarf citrus, to these cacti. Repeating the pots in various parts of the garden adds some continuity, color, and cohesion--areas I often struggle with since I'm a plant addict, so adding an element that adds cohesion to my eclectic, greedy taste, is always a good thing.

I've seen similar themes with different colors--blue adds a cooling element, yellows and tans add an upbeat, drying effect (great for misty/wet climates where a gardener wants some contrast), green is always safe, and shows up nicely against hardscape like concrete, gravel, and brick. The key for me, as usual, is to go big. No pot is too large if you ask me. When I see the pots empty and ready for purchase, I always think "Is this going to be too large, and dominate the area?", but when I get them home I usually think "I wish I had a bigger car so I could have purchased the larger size!"

Even empty, a brightly colored pot adds zest and color to a garden. Did you have disastrous results from a plant experiment in your colored pot? Lick your wounds, rip out the deceased (or ugly) plants, and put a layer of gravel, rock, or other mulch on the pot and enjoy it for its color. Tell people you're "composing the right combination in your head" if they ask why the pot is empty. Oh, and if they DO ask, don't invite them back.

As with any pots, give colored/glazed pots a quick-draining mix, make sure they have very free flowing drainage (I love using mesh to cover the drainage hole to make sure it always stays free flowing), and make sure they're lifted off the ground by pot feet, gravel, or plant stands, so the gound beneath doesn't make a natural seal by pressing against the drainage hole. And remember, a big glazed pot in full sun gets hot, so choose your plant material wisely.

Go ahead, give it a try. If you're going to buy and use a pot (or several), why not get a colored one and get some additional color in your garden? Let me know how it works out.

Happy gardening indoors and out,

Grant

In praise of vincas

2011-07-24T10:26:00.000-07:00

Let me just say it: I love vincas. Yes, vincas. Yes, the $1.99 for a pack of six starter plant vincas. Yes, the easy-from-seed vincas. Yes, THOSE vincas. There--I said it.

Why all the disclaimers? Well, as usual, there's often a sort of reverse snobbery among gardeners who eschew plants that are easy to grow, and easy to find. More on that later. ;) But for now, let's just say that a lot of people, even those who grow lots and lots of vincas, forget to stop and appreciate them. Let's take a minute to appreciate them: they're easy to grow in any warm to hot sumer area, they don't need a ton of water considering the rigors we often put them through (full sun in a pot in Phoenix? Yup, they'll do it with water, and less than you'd think), they're available in a range of colors from the hot pinks magentas and near-reds that I favor, through lovely, cooling pastels, through whites with and without a colored "eye" at the center of the bloom. They are even available in truly cascading types that will spill over the edge of a pot or hanging container with grace and color (look for the "Mediterranean hybrids" from Park Seed, Thompson and Morgan, and more). What's not to love, right? Oh sure, they're very easy to grow, and very easy to find, but I'm not the type of gardeners who holds that against a plant.

Apparently a lot of hybridizers and seed companies feel the same way. 25 years ago, gardeners had two choices: plants that produced flowers in a magenta-purple or those that produced white with a magenta-purple eye. Soon pure white followed, then pinks, grapes, salmons, roses, and just about everything in between, all with larger and prettier petals (never approaching anything overblown, so don't worry, they haven't been over-bred. Yet.).

Botanically, vincas are classified as Catharanthus roseus (formerly Vinca roseus, like their vining perennial cousin, also sometimes called "vinca"). Want to set the way-back machine to 1920? Call them "Madagascar periwinkles". And yes, the wild type reall IS found there.

They're only real downside is that they can be vulnerable to some fungal diseases in chronically wet soil (hey, use that location for hostas, ferns, or papyrus depending on your climate). The solution? Let them get a little dry between watering (never enough to wilt), or grow them in pots raised up off the soil. In the hottest, sunniest climates, they'll do fine in half a day sun (especially if it's the first half of the day). In cool climates, the more sun the better.

And here's a little secret a lot of people dont' know: they are painfully easy to root from stem cuttings rooted in a glass of water (as with all cuttings, remove any leaves below the water line to prevent rot). Of course, with a plant that's so easy to find as plants and seeds, you may never want to bother, but it's good to know, especially if you find a chance seedling you'd like to keep going year after year. Like coleus (Solenostemon, don't get me started), vincas can be rooted in late summer to be overwintered indoors as houseplants. They'll actually grow and bloom most of the winter as long as you give them plenty of sun.

I love growing obscure, rare, and challenging plants, but it's good to build the bulk of our gardens with plants that easily perform well (and look like it). One of my favorite gardeners always said "Grow what does well in your area and people will think you're a great gardener." Maybe they were thinking about vincas? If you agree, then you should too. :)

Happy gardening indoors and out,

Grant

They're called "rain lilies" for a reason

2011-07-17T10:58:00.000-07:00

You know, there's something interesting about a plant which knows the difference between real rain and fake rain (also called watering via a hose or watering can). Rain lilies (genus Zephyranthes) are one such plant. No one seems to know how they know the difference between Real Rain and Fake Rain, but they do.

Whenever there is a rain shower after a dry period, rain lilies will burst in to growth and send up several ready-made blooms in pink, white, yellow or orange, along with a clump or two of their green, grassy foliage. Whenever there is a rain shower from a garden hose: nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch.

The solution? Just plant these small bulbs in a spot in full sun, and slop water on them once a month when it's hot, and not at all when it's cool, and let mother nature take care of the rest. Each time they get a good soaking from the sky, they'll burst in to growth for a few days to a few weeks, and then re-enter their semi-dormancy when things dry out. No need to hook them up to Life Support (automated irrigation), even here in the Phoenix area. Just plant them, water them once, and enjoy.

They look terrific on their own as a pseudo-grass alternative, and they combine nicely with cacti and succulents which don't mind occasional watering (summer growing aloes, opuntias, and many cereus cacti). One of my favorite combinations is a nice large rock (three-quarters buried as always, to look more natural) with a clump of rain lilies at its base. The rock will help channel a bit of extra rain water to the rain lilies and you'll get even more blooms.

Live in a cold winter area? Rain lilies are very nice potted plants for life outside spring through autumn. Keep them dry and cool (not cold) indoors for winter.

Fifteen years ago, average gardeners had two choices when it came to rain lilies: pink and white. Now, thanks to the work of dedicated hybridizers, there is a range of flowers from white, through pink, yellow, orange and various combinations in between. Keep an eye on the Plant Delights Nursery catalog and website for a lot of wonderful new introductions ('Krakatoa' anyone?), among others.

Rain lilies are low to no maintenance. If their foliage turns yellow, just trim it down with a pair of scissors or pruners and ignore them. That's it. Sure, there's no predicting when exactly they'll bloom, but if you think of them as random garden surprises, you, and they, will be pleased.

Happy gardening indoors and out,
Grant

Cleaning house in the garden.

2011-06-25T09:14:00.000-07:00

I treat summer heat here in Phoenix the same way folks in cold-winter areas treat cold: as an excuse to clean house out in the garden. Just like frost or cool temperatures takes a toll on cold-winter gardes, so the heat does in mine.

The "geraniums" that were things of beauty from autumn through spring (a lovely, long 9 month growing season here) are pitiful at this time of year: bleached leaves, aborted blooms, and brittle stems. Cool-weather staples like snapdragons, petunias, alyssum, and calendula look as if someone took a blow-torch to them. Wildflowers have gone to seed and have transformed themselves from cottage-garden darlings to hay-colored clumps of straw with seeds that love to hitch a ride on anything that brushes by, gardeners included.

What does it all mean? Just like in autumn in cold-winter areas, this is a good time to clean out ephemerals in the garden, and to enjoy the long-term structure all good gardeners try to impart in their gardens. The planting on the southwest end of my garden was a fluffy green leafy expanse with pops of color all winter long, now that I've cleaned house, the structure of the more durable cacti, succulents, and brightly colored containers shows through. That's right!, I forgot I had planted a coral aloe over here (Aloe striata)--it had been hidden under the foliage of California poppies all winter and spring. Now it has a chance to shine. The base of an ocotillo (Fouquieria splendens a wonderful woody native) now shows off its interesting texture and bark, which was hidden by beautiful blue blobs of desert bluebells all winter long (Phacelia campanularia, an easy winter-blooming self-sower).

Large red glazed pots that I've placed here and there in the garden now stand out more than ever before, as their edges aren't obscured with leafy plants.

There are plenty of leafy plants to enjoy during these blast-furnace months: lantanas, hibiscus, leucophyllums, devil's claws, passion flowers, zinnias, and vincas, but it's also nice to be able to clear out some overgrown areas that have faded for summer, and enjoy the structure of the more durable plants. Just like cold winter gardeners wax poetic about the twigs on their red-twig dogwoods in January, it's time for me to spout about the beautiful waxy blue of my Myrtillocactus geometrizans (a wonderful upright branching cactus for dry, warm winter areas) or how certain aloes get a golden-yellow overlay during the long hot days of summer before returning to blue green in autumn.

This is the time to slow down in the heat, make less work for yourself by relying on summer-durable water thrifty plants as the backbone of your garden, and to enjoy seeing some dirt between your plants.

Oh sure, come October after a long, hot summer, I'll be thrilled to see paperwhite narcissus foliage popping up, along with self-sown calendulas, African daisies, sweet peas and a myriad of cool-weather bloomers. But for now, I say "Good riddance!"

Happy gardening indoors and out,

Grant

Stars in Stripes

2011-06-12T09:35:00.000-07:00

Let me just say it, I love striped flowers. There's just something about stripes, splotches, and blotches that makes a pretty flower seem more, well, FUN. One plant that excels in making striped flowers is good old "four o'clocks" (Mirabilis jalapa) a great summer annual for any climate that has a warm or hot summer. They'll actually act as perennials in mild winter areas, returning year after year each spring, but even in areas that freeze in winter, four o'clocks grow and bloom quickly from seed. One trick a lot of people don't know: you can dig up a carrot-like tuber in autumn and save it over winter indoors to replant in spring (think "dahlias").

In hot summer climates, four o'clocks appreciate a bit afternoon shade, in cool-summer climates give them full sun for as long as possible. Here in the Phoenix area, they thrive in locations with sunshine from sunrise until mid-afternoon, enjoying a break from the hottest summer afternoon sun. The common name refers to the plant's habit of opening its blooms in late afternoon. They'll stay open all night and in to the following morning until the sun's rays get hot. Most varieties are nicely scented at night.

If you have more tasteful sensibilities than I do, look for varieties specifically bred to have solid colored flowers. There are also varieties that feature only pastel blooms (in solids or in stripes), varieties with no-reds, or no yellows, or only white blooms. My favorite is hot magenta with yellow, although I'm a big fan of magenta and white too (pictured, from my little garden).

In truly hot climates, they'll slow down a bit during the hottest month or two, but they'll rebound again in early autumn. Whether you grow them as a summer annual, or a perennial, and whether you like tasteful blooms or festive, why not give four o'clocks a try? You and any nearby hummingbirds will be glad you did.

Happy gardening,
Grant

Adios geraniums, Hola vincas!

2011-06-04T10:53:00.000-07:00

Yup, it's that time again in the hot-summer/warm winter areas of the country: time to rip out those "geraniums" (Pelargonium, botanically) which have been keeping us company with blooms since autumn, and replace them with truly heat tolerant plants, like vincas (Catharanthus, pictured).

Geraniums are great plants autumn through early summer, but in truly hot summer climates they often melt by mid-summer. Here in the Phoenix area you're lucky to have them alive by Independence Day. But is it worth it? Probably not since they'll likely have stopped blooming long before then, and what new foliage they make will be pale, small, and pitiful. If you really want to save them, you can move them indoors for the hottest three months of summer, or take a gamble and move them to black shade and water them only when absolutely necessary. When it gets HOT they enter a type of dormancy and want less water than when it's cooler and they're actively growing (I know, I know, it's counter-intuitive, but seriously, over watering them in summer is their biggest warm weather enemy).

I rip them out quickly and then hide the carnage, right around the beginning of June each year. And when I do, I always have their replacements ready. Most years it's the charming, heat tolerante, and easy-to-grow "vinca". You can also use celosia, gomphrena, or zinnias or any number of tropical and sub-tropical plants.

People often complain about annuals: "It's too much work to keep replanting them". But really, a quick change from geraniums to vincas in spring, and then back to geraniums in autumn, will give you easy, beautiful blooms 12 months a year here, so give it a try, whether in just a pot or two, or in a big flowering bed.

Happy gardening!

Grant

Honeysuckle (or, "One gardener's weed is another's favorite plant")

2011-05-29T15:31:00.000-07:00

I know, I know, gardeners in the Midwest and South will not be impressed as I'm about to talk about a plant that is, quite literally, a WEED in those climates (and others climates too)--honeysuckle. Yes, good old honeysuckle (Lonicera japonica). In nearly any other climate, it is an invasive, smothering bully, but here in the Phoenix area, it's a very well behaved, evergreen vine that takes on a tropical air.

Just give it a touch of afternoon shade in summer, and occasional water, and something for it to climb (poles/stakes/trellises/fences will do, no need to give it physical therapy with something like twine/string/nails) and let it go.

I've grown it at two different gardens in the Phoenix area and it's done fabulously well in each. Once established, it doesn't even need to be on life support (automatic irrigation) as long as you slop water on it a couple of times a week. I just came back from nearly two weeks in Hawaii and my large vine on the east side of the house (not literally, it has a trellis) looks wonderful and is full of pretty, fragrant blooms. Think of it: two weeks, May, Phoenix, ALIVE. Not just alive, but thriving. The blooms are especially scented mornings and evenings, so make sure to get out there and enjoy. Even when I'm not in my current island state of mind, honeysuckle seems very tropical in this climate. It's evergreen, it blooms off and on all summer (with the biggest flushes of blooms in late spring and early autumn, but happily they occur anytime) and it climbs, really climbs. In the hottest 6 weeks of summer it'll slow down and look just a bit sulky to someone who sees it when it's not, but no one else would notice.

Want to share it? Just snip off any stem but the youngest or oldest ones, put them in a glass of water (remove any leaves below the water line to keep rot away) in bright indirect sunlight, and pot them up when they form roots about two inches long. Ease honeysuckle back into life outside over a period of many days (remember, plants get sunburn just like people when they've been grown indoors for a long period and then are suddenly thrust outside again (yes, even cacti, and certainly any leafy plant)). Voila! A new, tropical appearing vine for your garden or for a friend's.

In wet and humid climates, any honeysuckle stem that touches moist earth will root within minutes, but here in the Phoenix area, it will wait until it finds, or you provide, a spot that is occasionally watered.

The charming small flowers open white and then fade to a most interesting 'Grey Poupon' almost-yellow before falling. Oh sure, your friends in the Midwest and South won't be impressed, but you will, so give it a try and tell finicky jasmine and cold-sensitive corkscrew vine to take a hike.

Happy gardening,
Grant

Echinopsis

2011-05-08T12:40:00.000-07:00

Here's a cactus that even cactus-haters should embrace: Echinopsis, the so-called "Easter cactus". These small, rounded, cute cacti produce some of the biggest, most exotic, blooms of any garden plant. Yes, they have spines, but they're short, and stout, and stay on the plant (unlike their more hostile compatriots like prickly pears and chollas). Echinopsis plants have a large flush of bloom in late spring/early summer (May and June in the Phoenix metro) and then again in autumn (September and October in the Phoenix metro), plus they'll often toss up a random bloom all summer long.

What does a gardener need to do to ensure such riches? Happily not much. Just give them water when they're dry (once a week when it's hot, once a month when it's not) and provide them with afternoon shade in summer. The ideal spot is on the east side of a building, wall, or shade-providing plant, OR in dappled light all day long, easily provided by a desert tree like Palo Verde, Palo Brea and friends.

Echinopsis plants stay tidy and cute. They're rounded and range in size from plum through canatloupe when mature. Most (but not all) types will produce pups or offsets which you can leave on the plant or pluck off to plant separately or trade for even more colors. Do an online search for the Schick hybrids and you'll see why these plants are so popular in warm winter areas. The colors range from white, through reds, oranges, pinks, yellows, magentas and every possible blend in between. Colors can be searing and hot, or delicate and cool. No echinopsis produces anything but beautiful blooms.

Most types produce blooms that open at dusk and then close mid-morning the following day, and a very few produce blooms that open during the day. Nearly all are wonderfully scented too, whenever they open. I tend to prefer the night blooming types as unless I'm on the road for work or vacation, I'm home so I can see the blooms the morning after they open--the day blooming types have the naughty habit of often opening after I've left for the day for work, so the odds are much, much higher that I'll see the night bloomers. If you let them, they'll produce fleshy fruit full of small seeds which you can plant for even more plants in a random array of colors and general shape, especially if you grow several different types. Pups or offsets will bloom exactly like the parents.

Echinopsis are perfectly happy in containers too, which allows gardeners to move them according to the season: full sun in winter and then partial shade in summer.

Like beautiful blooms and want to experiment with a well-behaved reliably-blooming small cactus? Then give echinopsis a try. You and nearby bees and hummingbirds will be glad you did.

Happy gardening!

Grant

Hollyhocks!

2011-05-03T07:19:00.000-07:00

I don't know about you, but I love hollyhocks. They are leafy, they make fluffy delicate blooms, AND they're surprisingly durable. I'm always surprised that a plant that thrives in Seattle, or London, or Tokyo also thrives here in Phoenix. Hollyhocks do all of that and more: they're low water and they self-sow (plant their own seeds) if you let them.

Here in the Phoenix area (and anywhere where summers are hot), hollyhocks appreciate afternoon shade in summer. I have the best success with them planted on the east side of a wall or building, but if they pop up in full sun, I just leave them. Yes, even here. I water them once a week or ten days in winter, and twice a week in summer. If I go out of town in summer for a week, they'll wilt a bit, but will perk up when I return. Got a drip irrigation system? Perfect. Mine usually start blooming in very early May (like the picture above) and last for seven or eight weeks, with lowest blooms on the flower stalk opening first.

It's hard to label hollyhocks as annuals, biennials, or perennials, so just enjoy a plant while it's around, and enjoy its offspring when its gone. In hot summer-warm winter areas, you and your hollyhocks will have the easiest time being planted in very late summer to become nice small plants to overwinter when keeping them watered isn't such a chore. Many will bloom their first summer after their first winter, but if they don't, don't fret, they'll definitely bloom the following spring. If you have blooming clump and you let it produce some seeds to drop or be scattered around the garden (by you or by the plant), you'll start to get a randomized sampling of individual plants--so that you have some young plants, some older plants, and some seedlings, so that each spring at least some of your plants will bloom. Hollyhocks come in a range of colors from white through pinks, roses, reds, yellows almost-purples and near-black, plus just about anything in between. You can find them in single flowered varieties, or double flowered types with blooms that look like pom-poms. Plant the types you like and enjoy this low maintenance, easy-care plant.

Mine often self-sow around cacti and succulents, and the contrast is quite striking. When it comes to hollyhocks, I tend to prefer pinks, reds, and rose colored blooms--and while I don't have the heart to rip out a yellow-flowered plant, I do prevent them from setting seed since the yellow flowers on hollyhocks look too similar to me to their occasionally yellow leaf.

If you like delicate, old time blooms, AND low maintenance, plus a plant that can grow as tall as you are, why not give hollyhocks a try? They'll thrive in almost any garden, especially if you let them pop up in spots that they think are best. Control freaks beware. Yes, that includes me. :)

Happy gardening indoors and out,

Grant

Iris in the desert

2011-04-26T07:04:00.000-07:00

I'm always pleasantly surprised with how easy bearded iris are to grow in the Sonoran Desert. I used to always visualize them as part of a lush leafy herbaceous border, but they're also quite at home here in the Phoenix, Arizona, USA area too. As in cold winter climates, here they want full sun (yes, full) and water when lightly dry. Their sword like foliage actually blends in with most desert plants, and they always look good among leafy companions too. The foliage looks tired by end of summer (but hey, it does in Seattle, Chicago, or London too) so I trim off any faded/brown leaves, and by mid-November they're sprouting new leaves for the following year.

There used to be several quite large, quite successful commercial iris farms in the Phoenix area, so it's definitely a good climate for most bearded iris. Even if I leave on vacation in mid-summer for a week or ten days, the iris can rely on its moisture reserve stored in the thick fleshy rhizome. Of course, it wants regular irrigation, but it can survive for a time on its own. No need for life support (automated drip irrigation0 as long as you're willing to slop water on it a couple of times a week. One of the best things about growing iris in the Sonoran Desert: no iris borers which plague iris growers in more humid climates. Give them a try whether your garden is leafy or desert. Here's a pic of one of my favorites, the variety 'Batik'.

Hippeastrum papilio

2011-04-24T19:44:00.000-07:00

Like nearly any "amaryllis", this so-called butterfly amaryllis (Hippeastrum papilio) is very easy to keep happy. It makes a terrific houseplant for a sunny window, and here in the Phoenix, Arizona, USA metro area, it's a fine landscape or patio plant, just be sure to give it afternoon shade. A covered patio is ideal, or an in-ground spot on the east side of a wall or house suits it well. It's another one of the great, sub-tropical bulbs for this climate. What's not to love?

I heart Paperwhite narcissus

2009-11-08T17:35:00.000-08:00

No matter what climate I garden in (and I've done so in quite a few), I'm always a fan of paperwhite narcissus. They are that ubiquitous bulb for starting indoors in winter for quick, winter or holiday bloom. Just buy them, plant them in potting soil and give them a drink, or set them in pebbles with some water at the base, and watch 'em go, and grow. They'll make roots within several days, and start sending up green grassy leaves, and then clumps of small, scented flowers shortly thereafter. Easy, fun, and inexpensive, so what's not to love?

Okay, for me, the one thing not to love is the scent. Yes, I know, I know, millions of people the world over adore it, but I and several other people aren't fans. It's not overwhelming of course, just a sort of hyper-sweet scent. It's hardly noticeable from more than a few feet from the blooms, and I must admit, when I do get a whiff, it says "holidays" so I go with it.

In the mild-winter areas where I've lived (Seattle for fifteen years and now Scottsdale since 2000), paperwhites are admirable garden performers too. Since, like all narcissus and daffodils, they are poisonous, they have very few pests (and be sure to keep them away from anything you care about that would nibble on them). Here in Scottsdale they emerge in October or so, bloom in mid-winter, and stay green through spring when they smartly make a wise retreat into dormancy under the soil surface to escape our blast furnace summers. When I force them for indoor blooms, I always use potting soil to give the plants some nutrients to keep them strong, and then when the blooms fade, I cut the blooms off, leaving the leaves, and I ease them to life in the great outdoors where I plant them and basically forget about them. Each year I get more and more blooms from previous years' bulbs, plus I'm adding new ones from indoor forcing. Good thing I tend to move a lot or I'd be overwhelmed with paperwhite narcissus, and that would be a lovely problem to have.

Give them a try and let me know what you think. Happy gardening, Grant.

Water stress (and I don't mean just the plants!)

2009-10-04T11:38:00.000-07:00

Water stress--do you have it? I know I do each time I need to leave my garden. Regardless of whether it's for work, or fun, or both, each time I have to leave my garden I'm a wreck. And that's in winter, if it's in summer when it's hotter and drier I'm even worse. :)

I think all serious gardeners get a sense of anxiety when we leave our gardens for extended periods, especially in warm weather. I know I fret about water, heat, and wind. Most of my garden follows my interest in cacti and succulents, and each time I leave town I remember another reason why desert plants are so great: in addition to being beautiful, goofy, and interesting, they are on autopilot while I'm away. However, like an addict, I'm always sneaking in leafier things too. Of course most of my leafy plants are on automatic irrigation (citrus in particular) or are very desert-adapted when established. It's the "established" part that always gets me.

If you're like most gardeners, you're constantly adding plants, removing plants, and relocating plants. New and recently moved plants don't have the deep, adapted root sytems of established plants and therefore need more moisture while getting established. Bingo! Those are the plants I worry about. Established lantanas and oleanders don't even blink if I leave them on their own, unwatered, for a week or even more, but newly purchased or moved ones will haystacks without some help. And yes, I'll admit it, I'm irresponsible with annuals: tucking them here and there in large patio pots.

When I know I'm heading out of town for awhile, I have a ritual: start ferrying pots indoors a day or two before the trip. Add small aquaglobes to automatically water the now-indoors containers while I'm away. Check. Add saucers and fill with water. Check. Verify that all automatic irrigation is functioning several days before leaving. Check. Fret. Check. Seriously, the last thing I do before pulling out of the driveway, and the first thing when pulling back in, is to water the plants. What about you? Do you have the same paranoia?

Lately I've been taking advantage of those wonderful recent inventions: treegators(tm) and ooze-tubes(tm). Each is something of a large plastic bag that you fill with water and it slowly drips and irrigates the plant that it is near. They are made for slow, deep watering of newly planted trees and shrubs, but I use them to irrigate everything from zinnias to newly planted oleanders to daturas while I'm away on vacation. They certainly help me sleep easier (which is different from easy) while I'm away from my personal paradise.

Sometimes I wonder if the pre- and post-vacation work is worth it, and of course it is. Visiting friends and family is just as important as gardening, and it's healthy to see new and unusual places (great for plant hunting!). But a little work and preparation make it do-able. Who wants to have a great vacation marred with a return to angry plants? No one, so a little anxiety, a lot of preparation, and a ton of physical effort make it all worthwhile. Enjoy your time away from your garden, and then enjoy your return to it.

Happy gardening,
Grant

Stapelia ("carrion lily" or "starfish" flower)

2009-09-06T09:28:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite plants is the so-called "starfish flower" or "carrion lily". These plants are members of the genus Stapelia, and are easy-to-grow succulents as long as you provide plenty of sun and water only when quite dry. I've been fascinated with them since seeing them in gardening books as a child. One of mine is in bloom today so I thought I'd highlight it.

They get their common names in two ways: by the bloom's appearance, and by its smell. Notice, I didn't say "scent". The blooms generally look like giant starfish, and they smell like, well, like rotten meat, or carrion. They are pollinated by carrion flies looking for a nice place to lay maggot eggs, and occasionally by ants looking for a nice nasty piece of meat to hack up and take back to the nest. Lovely, huh?

Actually they really are. Their size alone is intriguing (often the size of your open hand), and the pattern is fascinating too. The colors range from tan through bruise through scab, and the blooms are often lightly hairy too. I'm fortunate in that I can grow them outside year round so their summer-blooms don't "perfume" the house--but even folks in cold winter areas can grow them without stinking up their house since staplias enjoy spending their summers outside and since summer is their main bloom time, they'll be outside when they flower (usually!). Really, the scent isn't very strong--outdoors you need to get your nose within a foot or two to really notice the aroma, though indoors in a warm, closed room you'll definitely wonder where there is a dead cat hidden.

The genus has many species, and they all hybridize easily, so it can be very hard to say for sure which species you have, but they're all great fun, and easy to care for. They will often form seed pods which give away their close relationship to milkweeds as their seed pods are long horns that swell up, split open, and release small tufted seeds which drift away from the main plant. They're easy to grow from seed, so if you want so keep the seed from blowing away (outside) or making a hard-to-contain drifting mess (inside), just put a piece of cheesecloth, or pantyhose, or other breathable material over the seed pods and tie the material at the base, so the seeds will be captured when the seed pods open. Don't use a plastic bag as it doesn't breath and can cause moisture damage/mildew/fungus. When you've got some seeds, pluck off the tuft and discard or compost it, take the small dry seed and barely plant in potting soil. Water well, put in sun and keep moist until the seed sprouts.

Stapelias are also very easy to propagate from cuttings too--just cut or snap off a stem, let it air-dry in shade for several hours to a day or two, and then plant it right side up in your favorite cactus/succulent potting mix and treat it just like you've been doing with the main plant.

Next time you're looking for an easy, durable, and fascinating plant that makes a great conversation-starter, think stink and give a Stapelia a try.

If you do, let me know how you like it.
Happy gardening,
Grant

Caesalpinia pulcherrima

2009-08-22T08:40:00.000-07:00

Like hot colored blooms like I do? Have a long hot summer like I do? Like plants that don't need to be babied or hooked up to drip irrigation like I do? Then give "red bird of paradise" or "pride of Barbados" (common name varies depending on where you live and garden) a try.

Known botanically as Caesalpinia pulcherrima, this plant loves, adores, and is addicted to heat. It's a wonderful perennial in warm-winter areas, and is an easy and productive annual in cold-winter areas as long as you have a loooooong, hot summer for it. Here in the Phoenix area, most people cut them down within six inches of the ground in late winter when they look pretty dreadful anyway, sulking from the lack of the blast furnace heat they love so much. If you leave your plant unpruned, it will get taller and taller becoming a bit of a small tree until an unusually cold winter cuts it to the ground to start over. I like them pruned annually and left alone, so it's just a matter of taste and climate.

They're easy to start from seed--just knick it with a knife, soak it in water for a couple of days, and plant in a warm spot or warm pot and give it some time. They'll sprout fairly quickly, and are a bit slow growing at first, but once they have a few leaves they're ready for their permanent location in the hottest, sunniest spot in your garden. Mature plants need water only once or twice a week during really hot weather, and only once a month in cool weather, if that. They'll let you know when they're thirsty as their delicate leaves will start to fold up a bit--if you see that, give them a big drink and they'll be fine by the following day.

Their bright, tropical looking flowers attract bees and hummingbirds, and the flowers are a nice contrast to the lacy, delicate-looking foliage. The only down sides to the plant are that it sulks in winter, and it has slightly thorny main stems. Orange is my favorite color, so I love the common orange-flowered variety. There are several nice yellow-flowering forms too which are almost as vigorous as the orange flowered types (search out the cultivar 'Phoenix'). There are some very tempting pink-flowered varieties too, but be warned, they are not nearly as vigorous and they do not tolerate hot nights the way the orange and yellow flowered types do.

Some people are predjudiced against these plants as they are very, very commonly planted in hot-summer/warm-winter areas of the world. In the Phoenix metro, they even thrive planted in the hottest possible spot: a freeway median in full sun. Any plant that can not just survive, but thrive and provide beauty in such a location deserves admiration, not scorn, I'd say.

Most larger seed companies will sell the seed, as do many members on Ebay.com. If you live where they are commonly planted, you'll see that the plants make copious seed pods which are easy to harvest (just avoid the freeway plantings mentioned above, please).

Want some color and low-maintenance drama in your garden? Give these birds free reign in your garden. Let me know what you think of them if you grow them, or give them a try.

Happy gardening,
Grant

Desert Botanical Garden

2009-08-16T14:53:00.000-07:00

If you live in, or are visiting, the Phoenix, Arizona metropolitan area, you owe it to yourself to visit the wonderful Desert Botanical Garden (http://www.dbg.org/). This wonderful garden is a terrific resource both for its specific plant information and for its wonderful setting. The gardens are crammed full of beautiful, mature cacti, succulents and desert-adapted plants. The walking paths are easy to navigate and take visitors through several wonderful theme areas (agaves, aloes, herbs, natives, etc).

During the blast furnace summer months, it is a great place to visit early in the mornings are just as the sun gets low in the evening sky. For the rest of the year, it's wonderful all day long. They have a very nice gift shop, plenty of restrooms, and vending machines that sell chilled beverages all around the garden. The small nursery area usually has several really unusual plants, plus several specimens of good old workhorse plants for this area (or as terrific houseplants). I've been a member since 2000 and I visit them several times a month, every month. It's great to see what plants look like throughout the different seasons. Today I even saw a desert tortoise crossing one of the paths--take a look: http://tinyurl.com/nvts4g

If you go, tell them Grant sent you, and let me know what you think. Don't forget the sunblock.

Fun, otherworldly blooms

2009-08-15T11:07:00.000-07:00

When it comes to flowers, I tend to like bright, gaudy, showy blooms (and not in green) but for some reason I grow one type of plant that breaks my rules: Dorstenia. These fun, small leafy succulent plants are easy to keep happy (partial sun, water when lightly dry, very little water if/when they drop their leaves for winter) and easy to enjoy.

They're often considered greenhouse weeds by cacti and succulent growers since dorstenias will use their bizarre blooms to shoot ripe seed pods several feet away from the mother plant, creating a self-sowing nuisance for greenhouse growers, but like a lot of plants, one person's weed is another person's treasure. I think they are great and certainly don't mind a few extras here and there.

Dorstenias have quite a dedicated following too, despite their unconventional appearance (or perhaps because of it). If you're looking for something a bit bizarre to grow, but easy to care for, give dorstenia a try. Today's pic shows my Dorstenia crispa in bloom.

They're easy to find at most cactus and succulent nurseries or online nurseries, plus ebay.com too. Let me know if you give them a try (or if you already are) and what you think of them.

Happy gardening!
Grant

"Pussy toes" Ipomoea (I. carnea)

2009-08-13T06:54:00.000-07:00

Do you like morning glories but aren't a fan of vines? Do you have a hot sunny spot in your garden and want to fill it with a shrubby looking leafy plant that blooms all summer? Or do you just like lots of flowers? If you're any of these three, or all of them, try growing "pussy toes" shrub morning glory, Ipomoea carnea. It's a great, leafy plant that thrives in heat and produces tons of blooms all summer long.

Available in a light pink with a darker pink throat, or a pure white, pussy toes wants nothing more than decent soil, full sunshine, and water. It's an easy semi-shrubby perennial in USDA zones 9 and warmer, so it's hard to the mid-20's C. In colder winter areas (or if you're just fickle about where you like your plants) it's an easy annual from seed that you can grow year to year by saving seeds in autumn and starting early the following spring (and if you've ever seen a kitten's toes up close and personal, you'll easily see how the plant's seeds give it its common name).

Even here in the Phoenix metro area, they don't need to be hooked up to automatic irrigation (though they certainly won't mind it). Just give them a big drink of water two or three times a week and that's it. I take several summer road trips each year and it doesn't mind if I leave it to fend for itself even during the hottest summer weather for up to a week. Sure, it will be a little wilted, but it will perk right up.

Where winter hardy, it's semi-deciduous, losing most of its leaves in winter, but once spring comes, it puts on growth and starts blooming by early summer. It really is a great plant and adds some interesting height to gardens.

Give it a try and let me know what you think. I'm adding a picture of a white-flowered form that I've been growing here in my Scottsdale, Arizona garden for a couple of years.

Happy gardening,
Grant

Day shopping at Cactus Mart outside of Palm Springs

2009-08-09T21:14:00.001-07:00

I got some much-needed retail therapy at Cactus Mart this past weekend, on a road trip to Palm Springs, California. This great nursery is a must-see next time you're in the Palm Springs area. It's technically in the nearby Morongo Valley (ZIP 92256) and well worth the short 20 minute drive from Palm Springs.

They have undergone some major upgrades recently including a nice, clean new check out area (if you've been there in the past you'll appreciate this really nice new building and professional check out/art gallery space). Their demonstration garden is modest, but full of interesting plants, and their growing area is amazing. Three shade houses filled with thousands and thousands of plants, at great prices (small "plug" sized cacti and succulents are only 59 cents each (they call it "you dig")). Two-inch pots are under two dollars, and even larger plants are very well priced. They also have very large plants in their outdoor growing area, plus a small hen house, friendly dogs, and really interesting iron lizards on the roofs of the buildings. The staff is really friendly and very knowledgeable. I bought 15 of the small "plug" sized plants, half a dozen two inch plants, and two larger plants (one is a really nice manfreda with terrific bruise-colored spots on its leaves).

Here is a link to just a few of the pics I took touring their wonderful business: http://picasaweb.google.com/grantinarizona/CactusMart

All in all a wonderful experience as it always has been in the past, but now in an even nicer retail setting. Like cacti and succulent plants? Then go, Go, GO. And tell them Grant sent you.