Time to Stop and Appreciate the Finer Things

'Hope for Humanity'

In the back of my mind, ProfessorRoush has a little nagging voice that keeps saying "you should post, it has been awhile," but I would not have thought that I wouldn't post during the entire month of August.   My, how it flew by!

I blame the unusual weather, more rain than usual, and temperatures that kept weeds growing and me mowing weekend after weekend.  I blame my unfortunate needs for cash, which keep me working long hours during the week, ticking down the clock of my life, time I can't replace no matter how valuable I think it is in the moment.  And I blame me, for not making the blog a bigger priority over eating, sleeping, target-shooting, reading, watching TV, or the hundreds of other distractions that occupy my time.   

Liatris spicata

But then a fall morning comes, like this morning, and it's cool (53ºF) and sunny, and I'm walking with Bella down the road at 7:10 a.m., and I remember that a beautiful world awaits, every single morning, if I only take time to look.

Time to look and stop to take a quick photo of 'Hope for Humanity', pictured at the top.  There has to indeed be some hope for a species that breeds and distributes a rose this beautiful.

Time to pause on the walk and relish the beauty of this clump of Liatris spicata, returning year after year to the roadside northeast of the house.  A "blazing star" of the highest magnitude (see what I did there?).

Time to appreciate that the Kansas state flower is the native Sunflower, thriving where the ground is disturbed by hoof or man, a roadside beacon to reflect the morning sunshine.

'Morden Sunrise'

Time to fawn over the delicately hued petals of this 'Morden Sunrise', a Parkland Canadian rose bred by Lynn Collicutt and Campbell Davidson in 1991.  I have one in front, 3 feet tall and now overshadowed by a "dwarf" lilac, and this second two-year-old in back.

'Comte de Chambord'

Time to stop and "smell the roses", in this case the Portland rose 'Comte de Chambord', a reliable bloomer and cane hardy to the toughest Kansas winters.  She looks fragile and virginal and perfect, but she's touch as nails. 

And time to appreciate all the beautiful and more mobile creatures who share the morning walks with Bella and I.  For the city folk reading this blog, the behavior of the left hand male bovine at the rear of the longhorn cow may look strange, but to an old farm-boy and veterinarian, it's anything but.  That cow had just hunched up and passed urine and he's checking to see (the "Flehmen response") if this particular cow is available for some morning "go-time".   Truly, there's nothing more natural on the prairie than a little lovin' at the first rays of the sun.  

I think we'll just leave this blog entry right here, in a light and educational moment, and not veer off into the weeds of biology trying to extend it.

Red, White, and Blue all over

On this Fourth of July, in the year of Our Lord 2023, ProfessorRoush is going to let the pictures (mostly) speak  for themselves.   I went out to take just one photo of each color, hoping that I'd have anything blue blooming at all, and I was yet overwhelmed by the abundance of red, white, and blue in a garden now brimming over with oranges and yellows from the daylilies.  Okay, I cheated a little on the blue since most of the species that are currently blooming with blue flowers are native plants; all weeds in my garden.   My apologies to my British readers for the insufferable reminder of the loss of your colonies.  Warning,  picture heavy!  

First the Red:

Pelargonium potted in front of the house

'Spiderman' Daylily

Hybrid Rugosa 'Linda Campbell'

Canadian Rose 'Hope for Humanity'

Then the White:

Phlox 'David'

Shasta Daisy 'Alaska'

The impossibly delicate Argemone polyanthemos,
 or Prickly Poppy

Rose 'Marie Bugnet', not at her best

Hibiscus syriacus 'Notwooodtwo' 

Hydranga paniculata

And last, but not least, the Blue:

Clematis 'Romona'

Salvia azurea; Blue Sage
Nothing is bluer!

Hisbiscus syriacus 'Blue Bird'

My nemesis; Commelina communis

Fringe-Leaf Ruellia; Ruellia humilis

Not bad, eh?   Not bad at all for a garden that currently is dominated  by daylilies and looks like this everywhere:

  HAPPY FOURTH OF JULY TO ALL!

Weather Woes and Wrong Roses

I realize it may be often boring when ProfessorRoush complains about the lack of rain in Kansas in the summer, but bear with me a minute, and I'll let you feel a bit of my pain, and then I'll throw in a gorgeous gratuitous rose picture to end on today on a (semi)-high note.   Down and up, your emotions on a never-ending rollercoaster along with my Kansas blog.

Frustration, thy name is moisture.   Necessary and welcome whenever, wetness in this area of the country is a gift, a blessing from the sky however and whenever it comes.  I'm at the point of happily accepting the 80 mph winds and hailstorms and occasional sheltering in the basement as long as it brings rain.   Since May 30th, we had not any rain in this area, a period of drought that denied daylilies and blackberries any chance for full development.

Worst of all, my weather app had promised a decent chance of rain every day this past 10 days.  You would logically think that if there was a 30% chance of rain each day, it would rain one day in every three, correct?   Well, in Manhattan Kansas, that logic doesn't compute.   Oh, it rained on most days, it just rained all around us.   After watching storms last week go around us, I started snapping screenshots of the radar this week for proof.   I'm the blue dot in these shots, and the top photo is Tuesday, the second Thursday (flooding north, nothing on us), and this one at right is Friday morning.   My weather app actually said it was sprinkling here Friday as I screenshot the radar.   I evidently need a new weather app.   Or my weather app needs to learn from its poor performance and improve.

Finally, Friday night this storm at the left developed in early evening and held true for a half inch of rain and then a second storm rolled over in the middle of the night and laid down another 1.5 inches.   Saturday morning I could almost hear my buffalograss applauding as I stepped outside.   I've now skipped two days of watering new roses and I think the browning grass is already greening up.  If there's a bright side to the drought, the lawn didn't grow at all last week and so I can skip a week of mowing.   That radar-imaged storm you see pictured at the left looked like this as it moved in: 

Doesn't that look beautiful?   I considered dancing naked in the rain, but realized the neighbors might talk.

In other news, I do have a number of new roses growing this summer, courtesy of the Home Depot "Minor Miracle" that I wrote about earlier and this one is one of the new ones, a fabulous florescent orange-red semi-double that screams "watch me" in a exhibitionist display of pride.  On the downside, I don't know what variety it really is.  Two of the labeled Home Depot 'Hope for Humanity' roses look like this and they're obviously not 'Hope for Humanity'.   My best guess is that I now have two 'Morden Fireglow', although the foliage seems more glossy than I remember that rose.  In its favor, the stems are red like 'Morden Fireglow' and the color is so unique, it is hard for it to be anything else.  Certainly, this isn't a reborn 'Tropicana' and time and winter hardiness may reveal its secret identity.   Of similar concern is that the labeled 'Rugelda' I purchased appears to be a 'Hope for Humanity' instead.  The 'Morden Sunrise' and 'Zephirine Drouhin' seem correct, so they're not all labeled wrong, but 'John Cabot' hasn't bloomed and isn't acting like a climber.  Who knows what I've got?

I said I would end on a (semi)-high note, right?   You didn't really expect a fully happy ending from this blog did you?   After all the times you've been here?   My mystery rose is a beautiful rose indeed and certainly provides some color to contrast the subtle daylilies, but is it really too much to expect that if I'm paying $13 or $14 for a big-box-store rose, it would be labeled correctly?   How hard is that?

Minor Miracles

It is, in fact, still a world where miracles can occur, as Spring has finally begun here in the Kansas Flint Hills.   A very late, dry, and windy spring, but still, I'll take it.   Yesterday, ProfessorRoush inhaled his first ever-so-faint fragrance of this Star Magnolia (Magnolia stellata), which finally began to bloom only 3 days ago and which is not wasting a moment of our temporary warm spell.   No redbuds, no forsythia, no other life out there in the garden yet, but where there are magnolias, there is spring.  

How late is it?  Well, this Magnolia stellata is two weeks behind 2015 and 2010, and almost a month behind 2016. On the other hand, it's about 4 days ahead of last  year so I suppose I should count it as a blessing.  At this point however, I don't care that its behind, I just want warm days this week to draw out that deep musky fragrance so that I can overdose while I putter in the garden proper.  And warm days to bring on the rest of spring. 

The Puschkinia have joined in at last.  The short white and blue flowers are one of Mrs. ProfessorRoush's favorites, so I'm adding this picture to send some love her way.   The poor woman is on extended grandmother duty this month, in Alaska, tending to our 1 and 5 year old grandsons and feeding chickens through 2 feet of snow and the under threat from moose that frequents my son and daughter-in-laws backyard.  Pray for her since she will miss spring in the Flint Hills completely this year.  Heck, perhaps pray for Alaska, which may never again be the same.

I witnessed a second miracle yesterday, as I shopped the local Home Depot to see what poor decrepit boxed roses they had shipped in.   No April Fool joke, I was surprised to find these badly-paraffined and undoubtedly rootless shrubs in stock there, terrible specimens, but important genetic varieties if I can nurse them into health.   Among all the doomed hybrid teas and floribundas were a few precious (to me) Canadian roses, 'Rugelda' and, low and behold, a 'Roseraie de l'Hay rugosa'!   Commercial big-box rose offerings are so strange in these days of post-Knock Out hysteria!    So I left with the rugosa, two 'Hope for Humanity', two of the aforementioned 'Rugelda', a 'John Cabot', a 'Morden Sunrise', and a 'Zephirine Drouhin', ten roses all destined to fill in some spots from my Rose Rosette losses.   I also spotted, for those interested, 'Morden Blush' and a Buck rose, 'Prairie Princess'.   So if you run quickly to your local Home Depot and if you know what you are looking for, you may get lucky.  Leave the hybrid teas and junk for the unwashed masses, but grab up those Canadian roses while you can!

P.S. Almost forgot, Home Depot also had 'Therese Bugnet'!!!   I left them for you since I have plenty!

Later. Let's Play Global Thermonuclear War...

Those who are of ProfessorRoush's era will recognize the quote represented by the title of this blog entry, and some may even hear it in the voice of Matthew Broderick, overriding the computer pleading, "How about a nice game of chess?"   Broderick, in 1983's War Games, ends up regretting his choice as the runaway computer tries to set WWIII into real motion.  The Japanese Beetles currently invading my garden are going to regret their attack as well.

'Marie Bugnet'

Despite my calm surrender of last year, I am not nearly so complacent this year as I confront the onslaught of the Japanese Beetle Hordes.   I first detected them on Monday, 7/4/2022, 4 small males, happily resting among 'Blanc Double de Coubert', my early warning detector.   Those first spies were tried and summarily executed by crushing, momentary satisfaction in a minor tactical skirmish.   Then, Wednesday night, there were more, a dozen enemy combatants on 'Blanc' and on 'Fru Dagmar Hastrup', a second front opened despite my earlier victory.

'Hope for Humanity'

I resolved, given the hot weather and my workload, to spray the first thing Saturday, a perceived opportunity to head off the main battle, but as I prepared my defenses yesterday these beasts stepped completely over the line.   They were on every rose when I went to reconnoiter.  They were on semi-doubles, doubles, and even singles like the Kordes hybrid of 'Rosalina'.  Past years, they've been attracted to 'Blanc', 'Fru Dagmar', maybe 'Martin Frobisher' or 'Morden Blush' in overflow, but they've left the reds alone.  This year they were on reds, pinks, and even my beloved 'Marie Bugnet.'  Is there 'Hope for Humanity' when they attack such a peacefully-named red rose?   Regardless, beetles fornicating on the virginal white blooms of  'Marie Bugnet' is a step beyond what I can abide.  Forget the calm internet recommendations for knocking them into a bucket of soapy water or for hand-picking them and crushing them.   Forget the controversary over the question of whether Beetle traps kill or simply attract more to your garden.   

'Blanc' with 10 beetles

All that changes when you look at this picture of 'Blanc Double de Coubert'.   How many beetles are visible in this small area.   I'll give you a hint...it's ten.   Ten individuals, with several in fornication mode.

'Rosalina'

If it is war they want, then war they shall have.  I'm going completely nuclear in my garden.  Yesterday I drenched everything in Ortho Rose Spray, labeled for beetles and all manner of creepy creatures.  You can see it in the pictures, all these beetles individually soaking in the insecticide.  Last night, they still squirmed and moved, leading me to doubt the efficacy of Ortho spray.   

'Linda Campbell'

During my afternoon reconnaissance, I expect the battle temporarily won, but I have little real hope of going out to find the beetles gone.  If yesterday's spray isn't effective, I'll be making the rounds of box stores today.   Perhaps something less-pyrethriny, my pretties?  Something less gentle, something more lethal?   You can't win a war by being nice.

Yes, there will be innocent casualties.  The bumbles in my back yard had better stay away from the roses, or they'll be swept up in friendly fire.   This fat bombardier on 'Raspberry Rugostar' was minding his own business, but less than 4 inches from this guy a beetle feasted on another bloom.  Must I chose a Silent Spring over a summer smothered in beetle frass?  It seems the answer is "yes."  Victory is by no means certain, but defeat and capitulation are no longer viable choices.

Plant Pets and Plant Zoos

'Hope for Humanity'

I was stunned speechless, stopped instantly in my tracks last week, by a random statement in a GardenRant.com column by Ann Wareham.  In the column, Ann, a British garden writer, was pushing back against the societal pressure to change our gardens into more ecologically-sound, "pollinator friendly," "sustainable," "drought resistant" or "rain" gardens.   Ann threw the following statement in an early paragraph as one of the many reasons why it is difficult to start a new garden:  "Given that most people treat plants like pets and are reluctant to kill any apart from those rather arbitrarily defined as ‘weeds’, it is truly hard to imagine how any of these clean slate, ethically sound gardens are supposed to emerge."

People treat plants like pets!  Of course!  ProfessorRoush treats plants like pets!   I nurture them, I feed them, and I water them; I'm thrilled when they grow and perform well and I'm disappointed when they crap in their beds.  An epiphany, like so many others, right before my eyes the entire time.   Here I am, veterinarian and gardener for a lifetime, and I've never realized that so, so many of my plants are pets.  The rose, 'Hope for Humanity', pictured above and at left, blooming so perfectly red and bountiful, is a favorite of my treasured plant pets.   So is the 'Blizzard' mockorange below, covered in white and perfuming the garden.  And the fringed and crazy 'Pink Spritzer' peony, a wild Klehm creation, seen at the feet of the mockorange and in the closeup at the bottom of this blog.  Inside the house, a collection of different Schlumbergera and a few pet orchids make up the indoor garden.

'Blizzard' Mockorange

In fact, as I take my new pet-colored vision further, I now realize that I don't have a garden, I have a zoo.  ProfessorRoush's garden isn't about having just a few treasured and well-cared for companions, it's about collecting the uncommon or unusually beautiful, a thousand individual specimens to draw my attention and time.  There are few repeating plants in my garden; repeating families or genus's perhaps, but few cultivars that I divide and spread in repeating waves.   A few daylilies perhaps, particularly vigorous and worthy, and the rampantly suckering 'Dwarf Pavement' rose have multiple locations in my garden, but where some have a single viburnum, I have 6 or 8, all different species and versions.   How many different peonies or daylilies or roses do I really have?   I've lost count. 

'Pink Spritzer'

ProfessorRoush's Garden Menagerie.   Come take a horticultural safari with me, my friends, as we stroll in the evening around the garden.  Knautia macedonia has made the front bed a burgundy pincushion, soon ready to pass the torch on to Orientpet (notice the group name?) lilies.   Roses are fading from their first flush of flowers and peonies are dropping petals everywhere in the back garden, while the daylily buds stretch towards the sky, soon to dominate the scene.  Three different Mockorange's are in bloom now, in three different beds, and the Russian sage and the Persicaria polymorpha are demanding attention from viewers.  Grasses and sedges aim for fall, biding time and withholding flowers until the heat of August forces them out.

Plants as pets.   Gardens as menageries.  Maybe not so socially-conscious, but satisfying and educational at every turn.   That's my style.

A Better Side

'El Catala'

Wow, the onset of Fall surely changes our gardens, doesn't it?  It also sometimes makes me reassess my evaluation criteria and reevaluate my favorites.  Then again, perhaps my favorites don't change, but it is now, in the cooler temperatures, that I realize that all roses, just like humans, have their good and bad moments.  Sometimes they are a balled-up, crinkly mess, and sometimes, they just shine.  You just have to find the best conditions to develop each one, human or rose.

'El Catala'

Take, for example 'El Catala'.  I haven't been crazy about the performance I've gotten out of this rose all summer, but right now, in the cool days and cold nights, it is the star of its bed. I was wrong about him, wasn't I?  Take a look at this bicolored floral hunk to the left and above.  Completely scrumptious right now,  isn't he?

'Charlotte Brownell'

And look at how the colder temperatures bring out the blush in the cheeks of 'Charlotte Brownell'.  Amazing, isn't it, how a girl can be blushing and brazen at the same time?



'Freckles'

Just as the sun brings out the freckles in a young girls face, the claret markings of 'Freckles' are always enhanced by a little cold weather as well.  I'm learning that Griffith Buck had a number of these subtly streaked roses and I'm trying to grow a few more right now.

'Garden Party'

If I wasn't expecting a garden party after the heat of summer, 'Garden Party' is set on proving me wrong.  My 'Garden Party' struggles and struggles, a common affliction for many modern hybrid teas in this area, but coming out of summer, she's putting out these creamy white, perfect blossoms by the handful every day.



When I talk about favorites, though, there's always one rose whose beauty is never outdone; the everlasting 'Queen Elizabeth'.  When I want a picture of a perfect bud form, I can always count on the Queen to come through for me.

But then, as I pointed out, there is always 'Hope for Humanity', isn't there?  I can't imagine a more perfect cluster of dark red blooms, each vibrating deeply with life and hope.

 

'Hope for Humanity'

I've got quite a colorful landscape right now, this perfect time of early Fall, but sadly it all ends tonight.  I've watched the forecast all week, starting at a prediction of 32F tonight when I first looked, and then dropping steadily each time I checked it.  This morning, the prediction is for 25F tonight, so I know that I'm going to see a hard freeze and my garden is over.  I'm ready for it, though, the baby roses are all tucked into cloches and the grass has been mowed for the final time.  But I'm also not ready for it.  There are hundreds of beautiful roses like these right now and I'm trying to get half of Manhattan to come by and cut some today.  Somebody might as well benefit from a few more moments of beauty.