Weatherman Wrong

Well, not just the weatherman, but the entire weather forecasting system is sometimes stumped by the fickle nature of the Kansas Flint Hills.  Yesterday at 8:00am., weather.com and the local news all predicted a return to highs in the mid-100's for the Flint Hills after a brief respite in the high 90's late last week.  I hurried outside to mow and get at least some minor work done in my neglected garden before the heat rose.  A warm south wind was blowing and the temps quickly rose towards the 90's. And then low and behold about 10:00a.m., as I mowed, the wind increased rapidly and it got darker and darker and then simply ominous to the west and north.

It didn't rain, as a big summer storm slid just north of us, but I didn't complain a bit because by 1:00 p.m. the temperature was a cool 81 degrees and it didn't rise back into the 90's all day.  Last night a little rain came, and this morning it was downright chilly to my heat-wave-adjusted internal thermometer.  Forecasts for the next 10 days show a number of low nights in the 60's and only two days into the 90's.  The heat wave has broken here!  The only creatures in my garden that aren't happy about that are the cold-blooded snakes and lizards slinking around in my peripheral vision.  I don't know if my fellow Kansas blogger Gaia Garden is right in her eloquent post about global warming, but at least I know now that I'll see Winter once again in the Flint Hills.  I was beginning to wonder.  Even the sun yesterday evening, exiting with a golden sunset, seemed to want to apologize to the Flint Hills earth and gardeners for all the troubles it has caused in recent weeks.

Crapes by Chance

You would think, given the summer heat in Kansas, that crape myrtles, those southern summer stalwarts, would be an ideal plant to brighten up the August doldrums.  And in fact, they are a blessing in the hot times, but due to the split personality of the Kansas climate, it is too cold here in winter to see them reach their full potential as they do in Oklahoma, or even Wichita, where I've seen several hardy tree-sized specimens. 

Crape myrtles, you see, are a shrub in my 5B climate, not a tree.  I first began to add them to my garden a few years back when they suddenly began appearing in the local gardening stores.  Ten years ago, you never saw them for sale here, but I suppose that the onrushing tide of global warming has spread far enough north that the great commercial gods of Lowes and Walmart decreed that they might sell a few to Zone-defiant idiots, and so I began to purchase them when I saw them.   In fact, one of my best plant bargains ever was to purchase a 2 gallon 'Centennial Spirit' crape for $10 in August on sale at a big box store about 5 years back. At the time, I bought it merely because I couldn't resist the bright red, cheery color, but it has turned out to be my most dependable and tallest crape.  Every year, it grows up to become a 5 feet tall bush in my garden, and it opens up in early August to be a beacon in its border. 

'Centennial Spirit' (Lagerstroemia indica 'Centennial Spirit')  is a plant with just about everything going for it in my climate except for a partial lack of  winter hardiness.  It is attractive to bees,(see above) impervious to insect pests and disease, blooms its head off, and has a great fall color as you can see at the left (in a picture from late October, 2009). The deep green foliage is resistant to drought and never wilts.  Patented by Oklahoma State University in 1988, 'Centennial Spirit' is only listed as hardy to Zone 7, so I guess I should be thankful that it grows here at all, instead of bemoaning the fact that it won't ever reach its advertised 10-20 foot mature height as a true tree.  Alas, however, like every other crape I grow, it dies back to the ground or almost to the ground every year, so I cut it off like a spirea in the spring and wait for it to show up during my August despair to drag me along into cooler September.  I can't fault it entirely for not being "stem-hardy", though, since I grow a number of crapes and none of them grow unscathed through a winter.  Diminutive 'Cherry Dazzle' grows back every year and has the same nice bright red color, but only makes it a foot high by September.  Rose-red 'Tonto' and white 'Natchez' were specifically bred for Northern climates and will grow decently tall, 3, and 4 foot respectively, but they still die back to the ground each winter.  And none of these have the fall color of 'Centennial Spirit'.

'Centennial Spirit' is a product of the vision of Dr. Carl Whitcomb, an Oklahoma State University professor who established LaceBark Inc., a horticultural research company located near Stillwater, OK, in 1986. He has produced a number of new crape myrtles, including Dynamite, Pink Velour, Red Rocket, Raspberry Sunday, and 'Prairie Lace'.  If I could send Dr. Whitcomb a message, I'd ask him to please help out the poor neglected souls just a few hundred miles to the north by breeding hardy crape myrtle trees for Kansas. My only other hope is to pray for global warming to continue, and if this summer is any indication, it would be just my luck to have crape myrtles that are winter-hardy, but succumb to the summer heat.

Announcing! Thirteenth Tribulations

Just a short note to announce that starting on August 13th, Garden Musings will host a monthly blog link party titled "Thirteenth Tribulations".   As readers know from this previous post, I've got a hankering to provide my fellow bloggers with a cathartic "show your garden errors" linky thingy.  So, providing I've got the linking system figured out, we'll try the first one about a week from today (the reason I chose the 13th of each month for a recurring blog party about garden mistakes should be obvious). 

So fellow bloggers, be saving up your anti-gardening lessons;  plants that performed terribly, blooms that clashed next to each other, stories about the neighborhood kids who pulled up all your crocuses, or the time that the rain storm washed away your stepping stones.  It'll be fun I promise.  Well, if not fun, at least we can all have a good cry together.  See you next week on the Thirteenth!

Rattlesnake Plant

I decided to blog today on a tough-as-nails perennial plant for the benefit of those fellow gardeners who also garden in a hotter-than-heck semi-arid environment like Kansas.  For those of you in dry, rattlesnake-friendly country, Rattlesnake Master (Eryngium yuccifolium) is a problem-free, drought-resistant addition to the garden.  Be aware, however, that despite the common name of this plant, its roots do not heal rattlesnake bites as legend suggests.  I'm a little disappointed about that, myself, because I'd sure like to have a cure available some day when I run across confirmation that rattlesnakes about in my garden as thickly as the books say they should.

 

Rattlesnake Master (also called Button Snakeroot or Button Eryngo) is a Zone 4 hardy plant that, once planted, never needs to be cared for again.  It is listed as a native Kansas wildflower, but I've never seen it growing wild in my immediate vicinity.  I can't remember where I first learned of it, but I do remember that after reading about it, I drove as quickly as possible to my local plant pusher...er...uh....nursery, to ask if they knew where I could get a specimen.  As luck would have it, they had two potted specimens that a client had ordered and then not picked up; two beaten up, neglected plants that didn't appear as if they would survive the first night out of the pot.

But, survive they did and now every year they return to my garden and provide a little novelty to my August border.  The foliage is silver-gray, and the plant is upright and stiff, so it stands out well from surrounding darker green foliage and provides good foliage contrast if you place it right.  Bees and butterflies are attracted to the honey-scented flowers and the plant itself is a host plant for Swallowtail butterflies. It grows about 5 foot tall every year, flowers consistently in late July, and doesn't seem to spread itself around indiscriminately.  Don't listen to everything you read about this plant because some sources are flat out wrong.  I read on Dave'sGarden.com, for instance, that Rattlesnake Master requires consistently moist soil and that I shouldn't let it dry out between waterings.  In reality, I've never given this plant extra water and in our current drought period, the soil around this plant has barely had a molecule of dihydrogen monooxide to spare for a month.  I've also read that handling the plant causes skin irritation, but that particular side effect has only happened to me when I haven't been careful of the spiky leaves.

This member of the carrot family should grow well in the garden of those who like its bluer cousins, the Sea Holly's such as 'Big Blue' (Eryngium zabelli).  Both types of Eryngium grow in my garden, but the white flowers of  Rattlesnake Master stand out more vividly in the August garden.