sprig to twig

The folks at HPSO talked Loree into opening her garden to a small group and sharing her tips and tricks for growing succulents. I have long admired this garden and gardener online, so I jumped at the chance to meet them both in 3D. I kicked myself for failing to bring my camera (it was hiding out, having learned something from those devious car keys), but I needn’t have worried. Loree does a much better job of chronicling than I ever could here. She almost apologetically admitted that all of her expertise comes from personal experience rather than study. As far as I am concerned, that is the very best kind of knowledge. Plus, I happen to know that she gobbles up every book on the subject before experimenting freely on the hundreds of plants in her collection.

As if soaking up this fabulous garden and pelting Loree with questions were not enough, she used her considerable pull in the local plant community to procure donated plants. There were just enough to go around. I fell somewhere in the middle of the ingenious drawing system for choosing. The big, showy numbers had already been snapped up, but I had had my eye on this little guy right from the start. I never met a Euphorbia I didn’t like. E. mamilaris ‘varigata’ stands 4.5″ tall and is a perfect fit for one of three little metal containers I found in a thrift shop. Doesn’t he look like he is holding up his paws and shouting “Pick me! Pick me!”?

Planting him up gave me a chance to put new information into practice. We had been warned that most succulents will be planted too deeply. Sure enough, you can see the dark line where the soil level reached in the nursery pot. I can see why they do it that way, because he wanted to flop over when the soil covered only his shallow root system. Aha! Here is where the recommended layer of gravel top-dressing came in. Not only is it attractive, but it holds the plant upright without retaining moisture. I applied this same technique to an Agave pup that had been struggling.

Since she knew of the death, last year, of my prickly pear, Loree had saved a paddle from one of hers for me. I am taking no chances with this one, so more potting practice, using 70% potting soil to 30% chicken grit and once again topping off with gravel. I noticed that the Danger Garden employs many cachepots with no drainage holes, so the watering of this plant, similarly housed, will need to be even sparser than usual (I am sure that Loree will correct me in the comments if I am wrong about that). Update: I was right: see comments for the straight scoop.

All in all, this was a perfect way to spend a beautiful, sunny morning. Thanks, HPSO, for convincing Loree to step outside of her comfort zone and try something she wasn’t sure she would be good at. Hah! Loree…I think you might just be finding yourself in demand. You were great!

Michelle of Jockey Hill Nursery gave us a Magnolia grandiflora, which we planted before we even moved in. That means it has been in the ground  for eight years.

Now lookee here! See it? Right up there near the top, on the left…a flower! The tree still has the look of gangly youth, but the first blossom is cause for celebration. Let’s zoom in for a better look:

It is slightly past its prime, just because I had given up on watching after so many promising buds had proven to be tightly furled leaves. It reminds me of losing sets of keys: it is only after one has expended the time and cash to replace them that they show up in some perfectly obvious spot. Back in 2009, Roy Lancaster told a funny story about waiting for a magnolia to bloom. I wrote about it here. He waited ten years, so I guess our little tree is something of a prodigy. I get all loopy imagining what future years will bring.

Anyone who reads The Oregonian Homes & Gardens section will feel as if they already know Kym from the fine writing she has been doing there for years. Who could resist an opportunity to see, first hand, the garden wrought by this knowledgeable plant lover? Not me, that’s for sure. In an established, well-cultivated Portland neighborhood, this corner stands out. The mature, spreading maple creates ideal conditions for a shade garden.

You know you are in a collectors garden when this gigantic leaf meets you at eye level.

The markings on the stem would seem to suggest a Jack-in-the-Pulpit. Kym confirmed that it was, indeed, Arisaema speciosa magnificum, and magnificent it surely was…and this was only the beginning.

Close by, a painted concrete column emerges from dense foliage, topped with a pot holding Poncirus trifoliata ‘Flying Dragon’

While on the other side of a path leading to an inviting seating area, this bird bath is nestled into a massed planting of Hakanachloa macra.

If a tree dies, why not turn it into a sculpture? I could have happily settled into one of the inviting chairs in this part of the garden to while away the afternoon, but there was much more to see.

Back on the sidewalk, at the corner, an area is devoted to miniature conifers. Entering the frame from stage right is one layer of a magnificent Cornus controversa ‘Variegata’, also know as the wedding cake tree.

I was snapping pictures with every step. Here you can see more of that dogwood framing a vignette built around a free-standing gate-like panel. On the back side, just peeking out, is a fuzzy kangaroo paw plant in a delectable shade of apricot-to-russet.

Further down the block, ornamental oregano cascades over a stone retaining wall.

Across from which is a fully realized draught-tolerant parking strip planting.

This was probably my favorite area of all, looking perfect from every angle

and featuring some plants, like this stunning grass, that I am going to track down. I forgot to ask what it is, but I’ll be watching for it. Update from Kym on the grass: Panicum ‘Cheyenne Sky’

Up a few stairs we enter a very private back yard populated by many many many pots spilling over with tropical flair. Most of the pots are terra cotta, with the occasional punch of bright colored glaze.

The staging of these pots causes them to nearly disappear beneath the jungle tapestry of plants.

Pots travel right up the wall, and are aided by the canna leaves and the glass sculpture in giving verticality to the arrangement.

Tucked away in a corner, screened by billowing foliage, is a potting table with more pots at the ready.

Bucking the trend, a Monkey Puzzle Tree is planted in the ground and looking right at home amidst its potted neighbors.

Artistic touches like these small stone cairns are used with restraint.

A few creatures cavort around a small pond.

Fully grown trees add so much character if the gardener is willing to work around and with them.

On the way out, I noticed this mature Arcostaphylos densiflora ‘Harmony’. I just planted a small one of these, and had no idea it would grow up to display such interesting, peeling bark. I am sure that there were other wonders that passed under my radar, even though I nearly ran through the charge on my camera. Kym blogs at OregonLive.com, so you need not be left out if you are not an Oregonian reader. Her subjects are far-reaching and nearly as fascinating as her garden. Thanks, Kym, for sharing.

Usually, a drive to Sauvies Island (just minutes away from downtown Portland) means a visit to Cistus Nursery, a nature hike or a picnic and a swim. This time, I wanted to check out a farm stand I had heard of. If you go left off the bridge and keep straight rather than turning right onto Reeder Road, begin watching for:

pristine white fences and many cars on the right.

The tykes playing around the entry sign look tidy enough here, but by the time I left, their shirts and faces showed their appreciation for the berries and other goodies.

Before heading out to the fields, a stop at this station provides buckets, seacateurs, check lists and pencils: all of the supplies needed to “pick your own posies”.

The fields stretch as far as the eye can see.

So if you don’t feel up to the trek, or you just want to show the kiddies a good time, a transport is readily available (with hunky teen boys driving the tractors).

Who needs a cutting garden when fields of zinnias (among many other types of blooms) are offered up for 25 cents a stem?

I think repeat visits will be a must. I see a bouquet of sunflowers in my future, once the zinnias pass their prime.

My mission was to get peaches for a pie. Store-bought peaches are almost always a disappointment. Here, one is primed with information about what to look for in the perfect peach: a deep red blush, a slight give to gentle pressure, and no resistance when plucking the fruit with a tug straight down (twisting tends to break the skin).

The trees in this orchard have been kept small, so that it is easy to wander among them to choose and pluck fruit at its peak of perfection. I have visited many farm stands on the island, most often as an afterthought on the way to some other destination. This farm is well worth a planned trip with nothing else in mind…though you might want to meander up the road a bit to check out the lavender farm, or venture out Reeder Road to the Herb Farm.

Here’s what I plan to do with the peaches: arrange slices in a hot pre-baked cornmeal crust; pour over a mixture of 1 c sugar, half c flour,1 tsp ground cinnamon, quarter tsp each salt and ground nutmeg and 1 c whipping cream; bake at 400 for 40 min and chill well before serving.

A little drive to St Helens took me by this “hedge” of Crocosmia ‘Lucifer’. I usually prefer it as a single specimen, but must admit that a long line of it massed along the meridian was a show stopper.

On the way home, I stopped to take a picture of this motorbike-cum-dragon. It was a poor day for picture taking, but I have passed by this so many times with no camera on hand that I decided to just go for it.

On Sunday, Din took the whole family to brunch at the London Grill in the venerable old Benson Hotel. As we gathered in the lobby, I was mesmerized by the floral arrangements, wondering where they ever found Oriental lilies of such a saturated orange.

Closer inspection told the tale: fake flowers, all. HPSO members are spoiled by the massive flower arrangements of the real thing gracing every one of our meetings. Brunch did not disappoint, however. The wood paneled, clubby restaurant puts out five or six tables groaning under the weight of every conceivable edible that might be taken in at that hour of the day.

Walking it off, we found ourselves in The Pearl District, checking out the new digs of PH Reed. That back pot contains black bamboo that tops out at about 12′.

At the other side of the alcove bracketing the new shop sits another grouping of the same pots, different plantings. The new iteration of this home furnishings and accessories shop is much smaller than their last venue. It has served to focus their selections and makes for a pleasing experience. Good to remember that bigger is not always better. Should probably have kept that in mind when loading up on eggs benedict and hazelnut torte.

Almost every Sunday at 1pm there is a seminar of some sort at Joy Creek Nursery. Last Sunday Roger Gossler of Gossler Farms in Eugene, Oregon was the featured speaker.

He was talking about late-season plants, especially shrubs and small trees, to bring interest to a time when many gardens seem to be exhausted by their spring efforts and taking a breather before their fall show. He brought a load of plants to illustrate his points.

He is much in demand as a speaker, so he is comfortable in front of an audience and knows how to keep us engaged and interested. If you ever have the opportunity to travel to Springfield, Oregon, just outside of Eugene, a fine experience awaits you wandering through the magnificent display gardens. Barring that, a mail-order business puts the plants within your reach. A nice tour of the gardens can be found at nest maker. Do not fail to follow the links to part two.

After soaking up all of the stories and background information we were ready to shop. I came away with Rhododendron ‘Ebony Pearl’. Now I am trying to drum up interest in a trip south.

quick as a cat can wink its eye

This pie cherry tree looked like a goner when we first moved here. R can’t stand to see anything die, so he did a lot of pruning and staking and babying. Last year we had our first cherry pie. This year it has gifted us with a regular crop.

To fill a one quart freezer bag it takes four cups of fruit, one heaping cup of sugar (the cherries are very tart) and two tablespoons of minute tapioca mixed together before stirring in. To some, I added a few drops of almond extract. Others got the zest of a lemon. Many cooks swear by gadgets like cherry pitters and apple corers, but I find that my fingers are the handiest gadgets around.

Here they are, all zipped up and ready to be popped into the freezer. There is limited space in there, and I can’t imagine having more than four cherry pies in a year. The birds and the raccoons are happy that we left some for them. We came upon two raccoons feasting on cherries. They were so absorbed that they barely noticed us…either that or the word has gotten out that this is a no-kill zone, no matter how annoying the critters become. More about that next time, but now I would like to direct you to Wendy’s blog for more ways to enjoy the season’ bounty.

I am leading with this photo because I just read a post over at Lost in the Landscape where James has a few things to say about dead trees as ART. I happen to think (and I think James would agree) that Mom Nature has done a pretty good job of turning this dead tree into ART all on her own. We spent the weekend at Sunriver, a resort near Bend, OR. It is a kind of wilderness version of Disneyland, where families can access entertainment for all ages, and an event like the wedding that brought us here can achieve the iconic status that will burn itself into the memories of all who attended.

Just get a load of this room, where the reception took place. The “Great Hall” was a part of the fort that was later renovated as one of the key buildings giving the resort its character. It would be hard to top this as a setting for a wedding reception.

But we had lots of free time, during which we chose to explore the outer limits of the resort. The stable offers many levels of equestrian adventures. In that field behind the horses we spied many ground squirrels. Overhead, the red tailed hawks were perusing the menu. I did not happen to see one zeroing in on his dinner, but R claims that he saw one of the hawks soaring overhead with something dangling from its beak. It’s one thing to watch these things on “Nature” and quite something else to experience them first hand.

This old horse looked like it would be about my speed, if we had not been committed to proceeding on foot.

We did, at least, stick to the horse trails, which took us off the paved paths for bicyclists and into areas where wildflowers like Indian paintbrush flourished.

Backing up a little bit, we can see the grasses and shrubs where the paintbrushes have chosen to proliferate.

The pine forests have none of the underbrush typical of the other side of the mountains.

We might not catch sight of all of the creatures living here, but there is no mistaking the signs of beavers working the woods.

The meadows are composed of many different grasses. It is hard to capture the undulating beauty of these seas of nodding seedheads, shimmering in the breeze.

Some of the wildflowers and grasses are familiar, but others are peculiar to this region.

Where landscaping has taken place, there is a heavy reliance upon grasses, day lilies and willows. I think they must water these bioswales with some regularity to keep them looking this lush.

The wedding took place on the lawn, cocktails on the terrace, and then we retired to this magnificent room for dinner and dancing. The site was originally a fort, so when, in the sixties, it was reconfigured into a resort, the log structures became the main lodge and the great hall. I’m repeating myself here, but the first photo showed the chandeliers, while this one features the spiral staircase built around a huge tree trunk. What a romantic setting for two young people to join hands and set off into their future.

These are by far my most successful crop (R is the head food gardener around here). Maybe it’s the “Oregon” in the name: Oregon Sugar Pod II. Whatever, one half whisky barrel is usually devoted to them. I think next year I will plant more so that I can freeze some. They put out just enough that I can use them in something about every third day. My favorite dish so far was a stir fry with a little bit of sausage, the last of the bok choy, onions and garlic sauted in sesame oil with a splash of soy sauce.

Wendy posts wonderful garden-to-table recipes every Saturday. I’m jumping the gun (or dragging my feet, depending upon how you look at it) because we’re heading for Sunriver in the morning. My camera is all charged up and ready to go, so I hope to have fun shots to share when we get back. Have a great weekend!

We usually go to the Portland Nursery on Stark Street, but when we heard about a garden art fair at the one on Division, we decided to go the extra few miles to check it out. It was a gloomy, rainy day, so not much gardening was going to happen. I guess I am one of only a handful of people that think that way, because attendance was sparse.

A large area of the nursery was given over to tents for the artists, with one big one for performing musicians. The hay bale seating was a nice touch, considering the old-timey fiddling and such. I was expecting more in the way of garden art. I’d say at least 50% of the artists were jewelers.

A gardener’s hands do not make the best showcase for jewelry, so I zeroed in on…big surprise…succulents. I thought these hanging snail shells, each with a little succulent, were delightfully inventive.

There were succulent terrariums in bowls,

and hanging globes,

and hanging teardrops.

But here we were in plant central, so it wasn’t long before we were out there inspecting plants. This outlet of Portland Nursery lacks the display gardens of the Stark Street location, but they compensate by using every vertical surface for displays like this one.

There are large hunks of real estate given over to displays like this one featuring many styles and sizes of fountains.

This cascading fountain was set apart at the entrance to the shade house.

The pot selection is impressive, especially for this late in the season. I was wowed by these massive concrete numbers.

I found this unique sedum in the native plant section. Sedum oregonense ‘McKenzie River Form’ is touted as evergreen-ever glaucous.

I fell for this little guy: Thuja occidentalis ‘Golden Tuffet”, which caused some hilarity when R discovered that I had purchased…yes it’s true…an arborvitae, after having spent the better part of our gardening life together vetoing his every attempt to sneak one in. I guess that proves that there is no such thing as a “bad plant”. How about you? Is there a family of plants you profess to hate? Has one of its distant cousins crept into your affections when you least expected?