Helpful Anonymouses

Aesculus x carnea 'Fort McNair'

ProfessorRoush began this entry desiring merely to thank an anonymous reader, or readers, for their comments to help me identify my mislabeled "Ain't Red Horsechestnut", which I purchased as the cultivar 'Briotti', but which is obviously not deep-red-toned enough to be that variety.  A helpful reader (or readers) has suggested its identity to be the more common and more pale 'Fort McNair' cultivar, (Aesculus x carnea 'Fort McNair') and, looking at pictures everywhere, I agree with, and greatly appreciate, that input.

Along the writing path, however, I deviated a number of times, diving into bottomless canyons and meandering off onto fruitless detours.  Most pertinently, I wondered whether to refer to my anonymous benefactor(s) as a singular entity or plural, so I tried to determine the correct verbiage for multiple anonymous individuals through an internet search.  Take my advice, my Gardening Friends, and never, ever, choose to walk down that wayward path.  

Aesculus x carnea 'Fort McNair'

As gardeners, we may disagree over the correct pronunciation of Kniphofia (is it nip-HOE-fee-uh or ny-FOE-fee-ah?), and I myself cannot switch the internal voice in my head from "Herb" to "erb", but we are nowhere near the incompatibility of the run-of-the-mill at-large grammar nazis.  A regrettable Internet excursion took me onto the website of Pain in the English, where I learned that most commenters agree "anonymous" is an adjective and has therefore no plural form, but some speak of it having a possible use as a noun and then the consensus is that the plural would be "anonymouses".   There were, however, multiple advocates arguing for "anonymi", "anonymities" and "anonymice" (the latter, I believe, tongue-in-cheek).  It is no wonder that the world can't agree on important issues like "world peace" (an oblique reference to and plug for the Sandra Bullock film "Miss Congeniality", for those that missed it).

Aesculus x carnea 'Fort McNair'

Regardless of whether I should thank the anonymous, anonymouses, or anonyminati (think Illuminati), I appreciate the correct identification of my Horse Chestnut and I will learn to appreciate my 'Fort McNair' more for its dependable and brief-lived flowers and its resistance to leaf blight, and I will bury my disappointment that I was duped into buying a "not Briotti".

Regarding the other question, I, myself, would advocate for "anonymi".  Anyone else care or dare to weigh in?

Miscellanies

 In his latest attack...er...foray into his second favorite world, the literary dimension of Half-Price Books,  ProfessorRoush came away with an embarrassing number of additions to his "collections."   Of the coveted group, however, I've been most pleased, surprised in fact, by the easy readability of a 2003 text, The Secrets of Wildflowers, by Jack Sanders.  Addressing approximately 74 different wildflowers, one might think initially that this would be a dry field guide, but it instead is composed of 2-3 pages about each species, all common to North America but not necessarily native here, written in what turns out to be entirely conversational style.  It is as if Mr. Sanders was sitting here in the room with me, telling me the most interesting facts about each.

I give you, for example, the first page of the entry about Rudbeckia hirta, the Black-Eyed Susan, as an example.  A little history, a little botany, a little information regarding propagation, and several pages later, one looks up and then is drawn to the next wildflower, Bindweed in this case, in sequence.  I was enticed to purchase the bargain hardback, by the way, by its description of Goatsbeard, page 113, noted for "two kinds of clocks."

Otherwise, it is just a typical lazy Sunday in Kansas.   We had an 80% chance of rain today and didn't get any (thankfully, for once, we don't need any), but I did venture out to snap this picture, taken from my front steps looking northwest, which perfectly illustrates the capricious nature of rain in the Flint Hills.  Somebody on my horizon WAS getting rain, although likely it was only a single property, or group of solo properties in a Northwest to Southeast line.   The small downpour illustrated here missed us, anyway.  Click on the picture to see and magnify the area of rain in the center.

We've had enough recent rain that my yard is sprouting these mushroom caps everywhere.  I'm inclined to leave this group alone, hoping that it is the beginning of a new "fairy ring" that will spread in this lawn long after I'm gone.  Of course, I'd like to know the proper scientific name of this fungus, but I'm afraid that my identification of the above-ground appearances of mycelial colonies is inadequate for the dozens or hundreds of possible fungi that manifest in lawns as "fairy rings."  I'm content to observe it, leave it alone, and certainly promise to not consume any of it.  Additionally, I was horrified enough by finding this pamphlet listing fungicides approved for fairy ring elimination from lawns, that I'm considering starting a National "Save the Fairy Ring" Foundation.  What nature-hating, environmentally-unconscious kinds of people write these things?  Fungi are people too.

Prairie Dawn

'Prairie Dawn'

ProfessorRoush has briefly mentioned this rose before, and regular readers are surely aware of my strong preference for AgCanada roses, but somehow I've never featured this Canadian-before-there-was-a-Canadian-program rose registered as 'Prairie Dawn' (alias RSM R5685).  We are going to rectify my lack of attention to her today!

'Prairie Dawn' has been part of my garden in the Flint Hills prairie since 2000, an early planting shortly after we built the house and moved in, and it is weird (and yet understandable) that she has escaped a "spotlight" on this blog in all that time.   However, as they say, "squeaky wheels get the grease", and this dependable shrub rose definitely flies under my radar most of the time and requires no extra care or attention.  A 1956 introduction by H. F. Harp, this bright pink, semi-double rose is generally healthy and carefree, noticeable when in bloom, but not fragrant or prolific enough to stand out as a garden feature. 

So please excuse my neglect of 'Prairie Dawn'.  After all these years, she stands about 6 feet tall and 3 feet wide in my garden, upright and vase-shaped, and is not prone to suckering or rampant growth.  Her first bloom period is the best of the year, followed by sparse and sporadic repeats of the small (2.5 inch diameter) blooms.  The blooms have only slight fragrance, at least to me, and they open quickly to show the bountiful yellow stamens.  This is not a rose that draws me in by scent unless I stick my nose in the bloom and the short-stemmed flowers are not really amenable for inclusion into cutting bouquets, so it doesn't come indoors.

After that apathetic description, you might wonder why anyone would grow 'Prairie Dawn', but the truth is that she is very, very winter-hardy, cane-hardy with no dieback in my Zone 5 garden, and her medium-green, mildly glossy foliage gets a little blackspot occasionally but requires no treatment.  So, this truly carefree rose has earned a spot in my garden, even if it is in the back of more "showy" or shorter roses.  This year I noticed, as evidenced in the photo above, that she has been invaded by some clumps of warm-season prairie grasses, so I'm applying a little grass-specific herbicide to help her avoid the competition, but that will be the extend of my notice until she returns, bright pink and bountiful, next year.

The Future's so Bright, I Gotta Wear Stripes

'Variegata di Bologna'

Well, things are looking up as far as gardening in Kansas goes, and ProfessorRoush is breathing a little easier.  I was mowing today and I could barely keep mowing, tempted to stop every few feet and take photos.  A number of roses are blooming profusely, and I really wasn't sure what to show you first. I am storing up photos and stories for later blog entries, but I'm so proud of my striped roses, particularly a couple of relative new ones, that I simply must do that group first.

'Centifolia variegata'

Of course, the fragrant  Bourbon 'Variegata di Bologna' featured in the top photo here, is a personal favorite and blooming right now, but I really want to focus on two newer (to me) rose varieties.  Rosa ‘Centifolia variegata' or ‘Village Maid’, pictured at left, is a Centifolia rose (obviously, from the name) that is reliably cane hardy for me.  She is three years old in my garden and blooming profusely this year at the end of arching 5 foot canes that tend to sprawl everywhere, resembling an adolescent teenager in my garden.

'Centifolia variegata'

Like many Old Garden Roses whose provenance has been lost to history (she was known in France before 1817), she has many aliases, but 'Village Maid' seems to me to best fit her nature and beauty (her registered name is the uninspiring  'Centifolia variegata').  All those aliases refer to these fully double, extremely fragrant mottled blooms of very light pink and white that look fragile but are standing up well in the recent heat wave.  I will trim her hard this year after she blooms in an attempt to make her more compact and mature, but I hope she feels welcome and is here to stay in my garden.

'Georges Vibert'

My second "new" bi-colored rose is the more upright and stately ‘Georges Vibert'.  Georges, as we'll refer to him here, is a Gallica who stands about 3 feet tall and is vase-shaped, stiff and sturdy in appearance.   I labeled Georges as "new", but I was surprised, looking him up, that I planted him in 2017, nearly a decade back.  He is not a very vigorous rose in my garden, and he was always on the brink of death in his early years, but he is finally blooming well and looking more healthy for me this year.  

'Georges Vibert'

'Georges Vibert' was bred by Robert, Français-André in France and introduced 1853.  Another once-blooming rose, he has vivid violet-red streaking in the blossoms against a very light pink background.  The full blooms are only lightly-scented, and they open flat at maturity to a somewhat disorganized but still beautiful blossom.   He is cane-hardy and blackspot free in my Zone 5 garden. 

'Spanish Rhapsody'

I could keep going on more striped roses, such as the gorgeous Griffith Buck-bred 'Spanish Rhapsody', blooming now and pictured at left, but we'll move on to other roses in the next post.  Just know, all you readers, that I still treasure all my striped or mottled roses, and many still persist, unafflicted by rose rosette disease and the many other pests and tribulations, in my garden.