37th Annual Manhattan Area Garden Tour

 The 2026 Extension Master Gardener's Manhattan Area Garden Tour is tomorrow, June 20, from 8:30 a.m. through 1:00 p.m.  I am not going to bore you with a bunch of text here, but will let the pictures speak for themselves.  I am not even going to tell you which gardens these are from as I prefer that you attend the show and find them for yourselves!  As the unofficial photographer, I took these photos (selected from a total of 456 photos) Thursday evening at the Pre-Tour when EMG's get to see the 5 featured private gardens (The K-State Gardens make a sixth site annually).  Of the 456 photos taken last night, 388 made my cut or were worth saving and I think these nine shown below are the best, for both garden interests and art.  

(Okay, I will disclose that the last three photos are at the K-State Gardens, and represent a fabulous variegated Hibiscus, a new statue I hadn't previously seen, and the Garden's latest major project, the newly completed reflecting pool.)

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.