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.

Sporadic Spring

'Morden 6910'

ProfessorRoush admits, woefully, wistfully and wantonly, that this Spring season is definitively not living up to is hopes and dreams and expectations.  That early promise of so many buds on the redbud trees and lilacs so quickly turned to dust after a harsh and untimely freeze, and nothing yet in the garden is living up to the promises made in early March. 

'Morden 6910' (foreground) & 'Harison's Yellow' 

Even after I dismissed my anticipation for magnolias, lilacs, daffodils, redbuds, and Puschkinia, I maintained it for the waves of roses, peonies, and flowering shrubs to come, but so far, nothing is yet living up to my desires.  Roses are blooming sporadically and sparsely, one bloom at a time, while others wait.  Lactiferous peonies, normally dependable mass spectacles here, are also either sparsely budding or begrudgingly offering only single blooms one by one.  Even the Itoh peonies this year,  including my established bright yellow 'Yumi' and 'Bartzella', are withholding their masses of cheerful color.

'Nightmoss'

There are still a few bright spots, but I'm receiving only mild consolation from them.  Yes, 'Harison's Yellow' (above) put on a still-ongoing show, doing its best to make up for the shortcomings of its neighbors.  And I've been delighted by the large, single-flowered, bright red blooms of 'Morden 6910' on my still-young plant (above and top).  I hope that one has a good third season of growth ahead of it!  And the purple, Paul Barden-bred, moss rose 'Nightmoss' gave me a few scrumptious blooms in its 2nd year (right).  I love that deep moody purple!

unknown Itoh peony

There are the usual "surprises" also, those first blooms on new plants that I planted and forgot.  This peony,front and center on the walk to my front door, managed two blooms on a very small plant (left), and it's beautiful, but I have no record of planting it.  It is obviously an Itoh hybrid, but which one?  If I got it from Van Engelken, it is most likely 'Julia Rose', but it is much too gold-colored as it ages (below right) to confirm that identity.  Other than that, I don't have a clue of its provenance.  My frustrations and joys are mixed, as always.

unknown Itoh peony, aged

At this point, I don't know what to expect for the rest of the year, and it is only mid-Spring.  My daylilies, killed to the ground in the late freeze, have all grown back and look healthy, but was their bloom period affected?  I just don't know. The Orientpet, Asian, and Oriental lilies all look good right now, healthy and tall and starting to bud, but it only takes one good storm with lots of wind to change their outcome.  Yes, I stake them, some of them, but I can only do so much. As always, the nature of a Kansas garden is subject more to the whims of weather than to the intent of its gardener.