A far-ranging collection of essays on gardening and life, meant solely to relieve this gardener’s daily frustrations and lamentations over gardening in general and particularly gardening in Kansas. Though I am an old gardener, I am but a young blogger (apologies to Thomas Jefferson).
As I'm somewhat of a scientific mindset, I take some pride in being able to identify most of the plants in my garden and the surrounding prairie on sight, and each its proper (albeit often mispronounced) Latin name. So it is doubly frustrating to me when I forget to write down the position and name of a new plant. Furthermore it is triply frustrating when the new plant turns out to be a keeper.
I'm quite chagrined, therefore, with this new very double white Aster-like thing that popped up in the very front line of my front border the past couple of weeks. This was a small green blob most of the summer, growing slightly over time and requiring absolutely no care, and then recently, it stood up and shouted for my immediate attention with the extremely profuse bloom.
At about 18 inches in height and width, it is undoubtedly well-placed in its site, prominently displayed now in fall in front of the taller, and now spent, peonies, sedums, and various shrubs that make up the majority of this border. But what, pray tell, is the variety? I have grown a number of asters over the years but they are all blues and pinks, no whites ever, and most of them survive a year or two and then dwindle in a harsh winter or summer. I have absolutely no recollection of planting this one, although it is obvious that I agonized over the site and potential size of the plant, and I evidently neglected to note down the pertinent information in a timely fashion. My best guess is that this was a $6.00 gallon pot, grown by the KSU Horticulture students as a fundraiser, that I bought on a whim about this time last year while I was walking to the 2010 State EMG Continuing Education meeting. If that is where I obtained it, I guess it stands as a good demonstration of the judgement of the Hort. students, but not so much as an example of the diligence of the gardener in recording his world.
Regardless of my consternation, my Anonymous Aster is a pretty little thing, isn't it? Perhaps in this instance, I should let Beauty be a reward in itself, and not care so much about the name.