Decluttered Deliverance

paeonia 'Buckeye Belle' 

On a whim, in a bookstore last winter and presumably with a Christmas gift card to burn, one of the books I purchased was Marie Kondo's The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up.  I've read several such books by several different authors because ProfessorRoush occasionally goes on a "declutter" spree, casting away debris like a sinking hot air balloon that is trying to stay aloft.

It occurred to me, reading Ms. Kondo and in my winter mood of being angry at the garden's performance and its Rose Rosette Disease epidemic, that "tidying up" could be applied to my garden.  Take, for example, the primary question Ms. Kondo wants all of us to ask ourselves for every possession; Does it bring you joy?  "Lift or touch each thing," she asks of us, "and ask if it sparks joy."

'Buckeye Belle' at upper right, did bring me joy this spring, more than I could imagine, its smoldering dark red blossoms luring me again and again to that corner of the garden.  She's a keeper in my garden and I would make sure she is in my next garden.  Not so much, for instance, 'Folksinger', RRD-infected, and never among my favorite roses.  So, this spring, I really didn't mind at all when I shovel-pruned 'Folksinger' during a massacre of RRD-infected plants.  Magnolia 'Yellow Bird' brings me joy.  Overgrown 'Rosenstadt Zweibrucken' does not.

The "KonMarie Method" also recommends that we declutter by category, not by area.  I followed this advice to the best of my ability, but I've also strayed
at times.  Early on this year, I did  "tidy" by category, removing first the roses that were infected with RRD, and then other plants that were simply in the wrong place, or that I simply didn't like.   My most recent efforts, at pruning roses, weeding, and general gardening chores, have all been by area, however.  This week the large daylily bed was weeded again, and the strawberry patch was tidied.  Next week, I've got my sights set on my "viburnum bed."


"Let go of the what if's and somedays."  This admonition  by Ms. Kondo is both easy and hard.  Plants that require a constant effort or struggle to keep alive, the "what ifs," are relatively easy to eliminate because they remove themselves from the garden. But  I'm tired and frustrated with plants that don't perform in my garden and I'm now quicker to remove those that don't.  And I've wacked back a number of overgrown plants this year. I had already started this practice last fall long before Ms, Kondo arrived in my psyche, removing some large overgrown junipers from my front landscaping.  I've felt better, more joyful, looking at that spot every day this spring.  In broader terms, though, I have trouble removing "somedays."  I don't often throw out old tools, boxes, and other paraphernalia because I've learned, as a husband and father, that life recycles our needs for many things and I don't like buying things twice, or worse, three times over.

"Respect my remaining stuff."  As it applies to plants, I need to spend more time embracing plants that do well here in Kansas.  Daylilies, hollyhocks, irises, viburnum, peonies, all are valuable and they should be divided and spread around my garden.  I've resolved to mark my favorite daylilies and divide them every year, until they're everywhere in my garden.  I vow to allow every native Asclepias tuberosa and Black-eyed Susan that volunteers in my garden to remain.  Who could possibly not respect a Black-eyed Susan that seeds itself in random areas, never needs water, and brightens up the summer border?

But if it's a thug, I promise, out it goes.  This spring, I've removed every clump I have of Helianthus maximilliana.  Some of you may remember a previous post I wrote that extolled their virtues, but time has taught me better.  'Lemon Yellow' and 'Santa Fe' turned out to be monsters, towering over and shading out everything around them, and self-seeding everywhere in the garden.   They're beautiful and they bloom like crazy in late fall, but if I let them go for 5 years, they would completely take over my garden and head for the horizon.  I've been pulling up seedlings everywhere last year and this year. far from the original two clumps I planted.  They will even self-seed in the native prairie grass and survive there, with all the potential of becoming noxious weeds.  So I will smite them down with great vengeance and furious anger, and declutter and deliver my garden from their zealous growth.  And truthfully, all the smiting about this spring brings me satisfaction, circling me back to Ms. Kondo's prime directive.  Yes, Ms. Kondo, it brings me joy.  

29th Annual Manhattan Area Garden Tour

The 29th Annual Manhattan Area Garden Tour occurred last Sunday and continued to be successful despite the mid-90's temperatures, blast furnace winds and scorching sunshine.  As in the recent past, ProfessorRoush was the unofficial photographer for the event, but this year he also designated himself as host for the post-Tour awards show.   Stay with me, I promise you, this is one show where the winners will stay on topic and not veer off into political rants nor personal advertisement.  And remember to click on the pictures to see them in their full glory.

So, without further ado, the envelopes please:

For Best Assembly of Cute Birdhouses as Ornamentation, the award goes to this shady group of avian condominiums.  The quality of this neighborhood seems to be first-rate construction but the neighborhood is overbuilt and lacking tenants.

For the Best Demonstration of Proper Birdbath Setup to Benefit Both Birds and Butterflies, this cobalt and river stone combination takes First Place.  You DO place rocks in your birdbaths so fluttery winged things have a place to land and sip, don't you?

 Best Individual Floral Bloom is hereby awarded to this perfect pink Asiatic lily, standing strong and cool despite the scorching sun.














The Most Whimsical Frog in Water was awarded as a tie this year because the judge had a hard time choosing between this dancing frog placed in a running water feature, or the acrobatic frog below it that appears to be doing yoga in a birdbath.  Neither co-winner really seems to care who won, as long as they can stay shady and cool.

For Best Use of Multiple Elements and Textures in a Single Frame, this beautiful vista drew oohs and aahs from the texturally aware.  Water, birdbath, rock, hosta, grass, daylily, evergreen, and deciduous shrub, all are visible in a single glance. 

 Speaking of birdbaths, Best Use of Small Artificial Ornaments to Compliment a Birdbath is given to this composition of ceramic mushrooms and a simple birdbath in a sea of ivy.  I thought the variegated liriope added a nice touch to this green expanse.

The award for Cutest Faux Window and Shutters was enthusiastically given for this bright composition against the weathered fence.  The bright red gathers the eye from across the room.

Best Kniphofia Appearing Alone in a Picture went to the mildly aging specimen on the right, while the Most Serene Almost- Natural-looking Birdbath award was captured by the serene and cool specimen depicted on the left photo.  The esteemed photographer seemed to have a "thing" for birdbaths on Sunday, didn't he?

The Most Restful Photo was easily claimed by this shaded hammock placed for an exclusive nap in full view of the garden.  Even I might be able to rest here and forget about the weeding that needs done.






Most Fabulous Placement of a Nude Statue in the Garden was taken home by this small statue which stood in front of an enticing outdoor shower enclosure.  All the tour visitors seemed to both admire the spacious shower and the fact that it was audaciously placed in a small backyard of a close neighborhood.  I expect that a plethora of such showers will spring up shortly in Manhattan, simultaneously increasing the cleanliness of local nature lovers and  opportunities for local voyeurs.

The immodest photographer gave himself the award for Best Composed, Framed, Uncropped, and Unedited Photograph for this simple capture of an enticing pathway through the woods behind one garden.  You just want to walk down the hill and then come back to rest in the garden chair, don't you?   I'm not sure what expert garden photographers would think, but I'm very pleased with the photo.  Well except for the errant branch nearby on the right.

I'm afraid I was captured by the gentle contrast of the Russian sage (Perovskia atriplicifolia) and butter- yellow lilies in this view.  Despite the harsh sunlight on the left side of the photo, it was awarded Best Photographic Floral Arrangement for the day.

The judge agreed with himself that Most Restful Concrete Frog Laying on Concrete should go to this lazy specimen for his unabashed repose.  I'm told he likes this position so much that he never seems to move.







I think I've covered most of the highlights of the 2017 EMG Manhattan Area Garden Tour, except of course for the many attendees who are not pictured because I don't want to run afoul of not getting their permission to show faces in public photos.  And I don't want to add to the NSA/FBI database of facial recognition software.  None of the ornaments or floral elements illustrated in this post, BTW, objected to having their picture taken or displayed here.  I'll finish the tour now with this very wise and accurate plaque having the last, and very appropriate, words.

Gone to Pot

Cannabis sativa.  Weed. Pot. Indian Hemp.  Mary Jane, buds, hippie lettuce, skunk weed, wacky tobaccy, combustible herbage.  Marijuana.  Completely to my surprise, as I was leaving work last week and noticed, in the parking lot island in front of my Jeep, this foot-tall, suspicious specimen with 7-fingered leaves and a weedy disposition.  On the grounds of Kansas State University and in full view.  I looked furtively around for federal or local surveillance and, finding none, snapped a quick blurry picture as proof.

Hey, I'm a gardener.  I notice plants.  I've been known to pull over on major highways and come to a full stop just to identify or photograph a particular flowering plant on the roadside.  You're looking at the far off scenery?  At the sunset or architecture or road signs?  I'm looking for unusual plant form or flashes of color, or interesting foliage.  I'm surveying habitat, speculating on species, and scrutinizing clumps that catch my eye.  The only hobbyists in the running for Voted Most Eccentric have to be gardeners or birders.  And I'm a little of both.

So I could hardly miss this plant, as it waved its lanceolate and toothed leaves and begged for attention.   Given its height, I might have noticed it sooner if I had parked in the nearby spot in the past week.  But there it was now, in plain view.  Not that I should have been surprised.  Hemp is, after all, naturalized in Kansas.  This Asian native was brought to the Great Plains in the 1880's.    Assuming the best intentions of our ancestors, it was presumably introduced for hemp fiber and used in production of rope, nets, and paper.  All that dancing around campfires was probably just coincidental.    

 I've never seen it in my own garden, likely because the disturbed areas of ground here were native prairie only a few relative years ago and doesn't contain seed.  Its presence in the Vet School parking lot could be due to avian-aided spread from wilder environments, or because some unburned herbage containing seeds was dropped nearby, or because it was intentionally planted in anticipation of a fall break period between classes.   The local police sit  next to this island frequently during the day, but I assume their motivation must be to utilize the afternoon shade of the tree in this island, not to protect their growing stash.

Anyway, there it is.  Or was.  You needn't find a sudden excuse to visit the Vet School.   The K-State groundskeepers had pulled it up by the next morning when I came back for a better picture.  All I found was a single partial leaf trampled to shreds near where bounty had been.  All that's left is the mystery of whether it was wild or a cultivated, fast-growning strain.   And who has the remnants of the plant and what they've done with it.

Mossy Barbara Oliva

Barbara Oliva

I'd like to introduce you to 'Barbara Oliva', or at least to the rose namesake of a reportedly lovely lady.  'Barbara Oliva', or 'ARDoliva' as she is registered, is a Moss rose bred by Paul Barden in 2004 and introduced in 2005.  This is her second year in my garden and I have pretty high hopes for her.

'Barbara Oliva is a very double (70-120 petals), mauve or carmine pink rose with lighter reverse on her petals.  She has an intense old garden fragrance and those mossy buds open to quartered flowers that are around 3 inches in diameter in my garden.   Once blooming in early summer, the young bush was fairly prolific for me this year, with an exceptionally long bloom period,  The flowers tend to remain on the bush for long periods compared to many roses, and hold their shape and form well over several days, displaying a button-eye when fully open.

She is short, at present, around 2.5 feet tall and gangly with long lanky stems.  I expect that this is just an awkward teenage thing because she will get taller, reportedly 3-6 feet tall and wide at maturity, and those lanky stems become "arching" at maturity.   I don't know if I want her to reach 6 feet, but I do hope she fills in a bit.  The medium green foliage is matte and the leaves are relatively small.  'Barbara Oliva' was cane hardy here in Kansas in a tough year and she is reported to be hardy to zone 4B in her entry at helpmefind.com.

'Barbara Oliva' was named after a retired teacher and California rosarian who, in her spare time, cared for a nearby cemetery and planted hundreds of old garden roses in it.  Mrs. Oliva died in 2015 and her obituary and a description of her rose legacy can be found in The Sacramento Bee.  Paul Barden reported that 'Barbara Oliva' arose from a open-pollinated seed of an unidentified, once-blooming pink Moss rose he once encountered.  In my opinion, she's a pretty good old gal for a seedling from a random cross.  Thank you, Paul, for another great rose for the world.