Frost, Death and Growth

Plant growth is most notable at this time of year, when above-ground growth is just taking off. It was clear in my garden, as from the weather report, that today was the first significant growing day in about a week. For most plants, growth follows temperature in an almost linear response, from zero growth at 40F to maximum growth at 80F (leveling off suddenly, with distress beginning at 86F.)

What had shut things down, of course, was that after weeks with much warmth and without frost, we got a 25F frost in Adams last week, followed by cold and clouds. The frost had been predicted at least 5 days ahead of time on weather.com, and so I was ready, and put inverted buckets over the two Weigela "bushes" (a few inches high) I made from cuttings last June. The plants had overwintered successfully, and are generally considered hardy to zone 4, but I wanted to be sure of their safety. Fresh spring growth is far more sensitive to frost than is a dormant plant (if that weren't true, the plants wouldn't bother going dormant now, would they?), and tiny cuttings are less likely to have reserves of energy and bud tissue if they lose their growing ones.

As it happens, none of my other bushes or perennials suffered any significant setback -- a trivial one is mentioned below -- so I probably hadn't needed to protect the Weigelas. (Not that there was a downside to doing so.)

But I had forgotten to protect the one plant obviously sensitive to cold - a just-planted blooming pot marigold (Calendula), which was entirely turned to mush. Not valuing annuals much, or at any rate, not being afraid of losing them, I did not give any thought to that plant even though it was the only thing I had really blooming except for some of my daffodils, and even though it's native to the Mediterranean and Middle East.

So what was damaged? The bleeding heart (Dicentra spectabilis), the one plant which was just starting to open its blooms (the earliest blooming perennial of significant size, to my knowledge, and a great plant in part for this timing), seemed to have had its flowers shriveled a bit even though the plant itself is hardy to zone 3. The flowers and top-growth are still a bit small and limp, but not dead.

Finally, most of the pink magnolia trees in the area saw their magnificent flowers turn to brown mush overnight. Perhaps they had another week in them. Magnolia x soulangeana is hardy to zone 5, but those ratings refer to the plant's reliably not dying, not to its never losing flower buds.

Speaking of hardiness, I once had a conversation with a local woman who told me that she had planted some Gladioli and then never lifted their bulbs, and yet they came back strong for a couple years, until a (probably colder) winter killed them off. I left some Glads in the ground last fall, since the late-planted ones would probably not have the energy to bloom again this year anyway, I felt like trying something else in their place, I am always looking to experiment, and I am lazy.

As it happens, those Gladioli in the normal ground position and in turf all died (nothing came up), while one I had planted in the best-drained position possible (in loose earth just inside the loose rock wall of a 2-foot-high raised bed) has come back this spring, although apparently having split into separate little bulbs (there are several growing points). This makes sense. I had read (e.g., by the late Christopher Lloyd, IMHO the greatest of garden writers) that for many such Mediterranean plants, hardiness is more a matter of drainage than of absolute temperatures. (This winter's snow cover may also have helped.)

Does anyone know of anything else damaged by last week's frost, or have a surprising tale of hardiness?

Forsythia Time, And the Garden is Needy

Well, tree budding seems to be about two weeks earlier than average. More specifically: The Forsythia are blooming – and this is perhaps the most useful harbinger of spring, and of several spring chores.

When the Forsythia are blooming it is time to:

1) Spread pre-emergent herbicide on your lawn, if you do it at all.

2) Divide Hostas and most other perennials.

3) Fertilize your bushes, if you do it at all.

4) Prune your bushes, which you really ought to do if it has been more than a couple years.

1) Lawn Work
If, unlike me, you care about having a green, uniform grass lawn, you may choose to spread pre-emergent herbicide on your lawn. Such chemicals kill the sprouting seeds which annual weeds rely upon to regenerate, but do not kill lawn grass or other perennials. Still, they are potentially toxic chemicals. Except for corn gluten. Regular corn gluten is an effective pre-emergent herbicide, which also provides Nitrogen and Phosphorus (NPK of 9-1-0). It is sold in garden centers, but not, the last time I looked, in places like Home Depot. If you are to use corn gluten or any pre-emergent herbicide, you really should do it this weekend, before most of the weeds have sprouted.

2) Divide Hostas
Most Hostas are an inch or two tall as of today. It’s easy to see where they are, and even which ones are variegated, dark blue, etc. Now is the time to cut a chunk out of a Hosta, and plant it somewhere else, preferably with half-sun or less, in rich and humusy earth. (A week ago was fine too, but the job becomes much more destructive of the plants once they are all up and flopping about.) Fill the hole up with rich soil, or soil mixed with composted cow manure, water immediately, and water every couple days in dry weather (which we have been having).

Most other perennials can be similarly treated. There are perennials which don’t like to be disturbed, but all those which spread, and/or form “donut” shapes by expanding while their middle goes into decline, are suitable for propagation by shovel, and most even benefit from the shovel and subsequent soil enrichment. (Throw out the dead middle of any donut-shaped plant.)

3) Fertilize Bushes
This is most important with sheared plants such as hedges and most foundation plantings of yew, because shearing removes a lot of nutrients over time. But most shrubs in most locations would benefit from some fertilizer, be it a top-dressing of composted cow manure, some other rich compost, or a granular product (ideally, with at least some leaf compost or peat moss or a natural bark mulch which can break down and add organic material to the soil). If you have Rhododendrons (that includes azaleas), Pieris/andromeda, Kalmia/mountain laurel, Vaccinium (e.g., blueberry) and Erica & Calluna/heath & heather (apart from variegate Euonymous, most broad-leaved evergreens are in this family, the Ericaceae), then I recommend the Holly-Tone acidifying fertilizer, especially if you garden in a limestone area, such as most sites in the Northern Berkshires. Read the instructions. Don’t apply more than recommended. Instead, apply that amount, or half as much. You may repeat such treatment in early summer, but for most plants this second treatment should not be delayed past mid-July, lest you encourage lush growth which will fail to harden before an early frost. Note that many shrubs, notably Rhododendrons, have very shallow roots, so you should not try to dig fertilizers in.

4) Prune Bushes – Especially Hydrangeas
Pruning bushes is especially important for those with a tendency to build up congested and dead wood, such as most Hydrangeas. But almost any shrub needs pruning if it hasn’t gotten it in the last 2 or 3 years.

Pruning is needed for a number of overlapping reasons:
To remove dead, diseased or damaged wood
Remove rubbing or crossed branches
Open up the center to air and light
Make physical space for new buds to grow
Increase flowering or fruiting
Remove non-variegated reversions
Make the shrub more compact or a certain shape, to fit a spot or allow views out a window.
Make the shrub more compact, to look less scraggly
Deal with a fungal, bacterial or insect problem

Don’t Fear Radical Pruning
Even more so than with carpentry, there are several tools for removing wood, none for putting it back. But shrubs are far more forgiving than trees. You don’t have to worry about making multiple cuts so the branch won’t tear out of the trunk. You don’t have to worry about killing yourself. And you don’t have nearly as much reason to worry even about killing the plant. Shrubs aren’t just smaller than trees, they also tend to have multiple stems, and the ability to readily sprout new stems from the ground or close to the ground.

It is very hard to kill a shrub or permanently make one ugly due to pruning. Cutting a shrub all the way to the ground could kill it if hot dry weather ensues and you don’t water it daily, or if the shrub has no dormant buds near its base. But any shrub without such buds would be short-lived anyway, as it would not be able to replace old or damaged stems (e.g., lavender and some other woody herbs, and brooms, quick-growing plants most of which aren’t reliably hardy here anyway.)

There are a few rules to follow, but usually there’s no need to commit to a particular course of action when you start pruning. You first cut out the dead wood, clean out any refuse, and remove any intruders (weeds, seedlings, aggressive neighbors). With the lines of the shrub’s living wood revealed, you may now see that it’s a hideous misshapen mess. In that case, you may go straight to “radical pruning” – to cutting the plant to within an inch of the ground, or to a foot or so of trunk for those with a single trunk at their base (Rhodies, again). More likely, you’ll be merciful to the plant, because a hideous bunch of stems in April can still become a beautiful shrub once it’s leafed out and made new growth. But you will likely see that the remaining plant could still be reduced by a third (or perhaps even two-thirds). So you will remove some of the oldest stems (thicker, or with rougher bark), and you will remove stems with ugly scars or possible signs of disease or infestations.

If the plant is in leaf, and has leaves which are variegated or in colors other than green, you should remove any reversions to solid green. Most variegated cultivars will show such reversions over time. Even if you like the striking combination of areas of green contrasting with areas of a finer two-tone look, it is often best to remove the sold-green leaves since they will likely out-compete the rest of the plant.

For shrubs, like most Hydrangeas, with branches sprouting from the ground, almost all of your cuts will be to the ground. Easy, apart from the possible difficulty of reaching your clippers into the space. For other shrubs, with one or a few trunks which divide as they go up, you will be cutting higher up. Just remember not to cut a branch to some random point along its length, or to where you think that will make the shrub the right overall size. Instead, cut to where the branch sprouts from a larger branch, to just outside any branch collar (the swelling around the base of a branch).

Obama Hates America!

And Related Issues

Spring is on the calendar, if not in the air. But since nothing is growing just yet, garden writing will take one (last?) back seat to a political rant.

I must say, the latest "Obama hates America" meme has been done with more skill, and has attracted much more attention, than I expected. (To be sure, with Republicans, conservatives and backers of the Clintons all interested in maintaining the story, I should not have been surprised.) And the issue, his pastor Jeremiah Wright's angry and unhinged sermons, is not a bogus issue. But I don't see how, in the real world where Democrats must choose between Obama and Clinton -- politicians of similar ideology, but quite different character and history -- Jeremiah Wright is an issue which should be dispositive for anyone with a sense of proportion.

Imagine, if you will, how the Wright issue could have been worse for Obama:

Imagine that, instead of merely making incendiary, and anti-American sermons, Wright went so far as to also build and set bombs, for the purpose of killing government employees. And went to prison for these crimes.

Further imagine that: instead of merely listening to Wright's speeches and closely associating himself with Wright, without actually adopting Wright's harsh language or beliefs; Obama had abused the power of his public office to pardon Wright, freeing him from prison in contradiction to normal procedures under which Wright would never be eligible for pardon, such as Wright's public lack of repentance. And imagine that this pardon was an obvious way for Obama to curry favor with Wright's followers, to get their votes.

Next imagine that there are 14 Wrights, all of them such unrepentant terrorists, and all of them pardoned by Obama, to get more votes in Chicago.

Finally, make the anti-American terrorists Puerto Rican FALN members instead of black Chicago residents, and make Obama the Clintons, and this becomes another issue altogether: this is the true reality of the depth of disgrace to which that couple sunk the Presidency in their pursuit of Hillary's continued power.

Falsifed?

Of course, no sooner do I make my prediction about Clinton giving up, than it is arguably falsified.

For example, following "Shame on you, Barack Obama" (for his having the gall to make a counter-assertion on health care), note this past week's frontal assault by opinion-makers about regret that we might be stuck with Obama, when we really don't know what kind of vicious attacks the Republicans will make on him -- the things way too nasty for Clinton's people ever to bring up, because you know they've only been going with the weaker material, because they're that virtuous -- and besides, have you heard of Rezko? And won't the Republicans take advantage of the fact that Obama hates America, and is really kind of foreign himself, and wayyy too sensitive about the race issue?

Obama's association with Rezko is easily almost half as fishy as the Clinton's with Norman Hsu, and you know the Republicans will have a field day with Obama's questionable associations, which will hit him ten times as hard, because really, all Obama has going for him is that he is putatively not the old sleazy type of politician, whereas with the case of pardons for donations, pardons for FALN terrorists for votes, pardons for larcenous community leaders for votes, pardons for $100,000 payments made to two of Hillary Clinton's brothers, and lobbying for Kazakh uranium contracts for $10 million contributions -- there's just no way the Republicans could use that old news against Hillary -- let alone the really old news which Hillary has actually had to answer questions about, like the $100,000 commodities payoff, and her legal work furthering the Whitewater scam.

Yes, in the fall it will be the Clintons who will be wearing the teflon.
Because we already know who we're dealing with when it comes to the Clintons.

She's just too tested. And all evidence from the primary to the contrary (you know, poor strategy, wasted money, tin ear) -- and despite every poll comparing Obama vs. McCain and Clinton vs. McCain -- we all know it's Hillary that can go up against John McCain in the general election.

And did I mention that she's been tested -- as only the wife of a President Clinton could be?

And that, having been "mislead" by Bush into voting for giving war a chance, Hillary is just the one to be trusted with pulling us out of it? And that, having screwed up politically and legally on health care and then losing the Congress to the Republicans, we know that only Hillary has the wisdom of experience to do it again, to completion this time?

All snark aside, arguably this last-gasp defense (offense?) is more useful in ensuring donations from red-meat liberal backers than in swaying undecided voters, and more useful in ensuring a loss for Obama in November, than in ensuring a win for Hillary next week rather than in 4 years.

Because there's no downside when you're $5 million in the hole and fading in every poll.

And who knows? Maybe she can go the distance.

Hillary Has Given Up!

Hillary Clinton hasn't publicly conceded the Democratic nomination to Barack Obama, of course. But I have seen a new piece of evidence indicating that she has given up, that her actions show she is no longer acting primarily to win the election, but rather to position herself better if she loses. (Psychologically, her closing speech last night has been widely discussed as possibly hinting at the same thing.)

What's the news? She has sent out invitations to Massachusetts supporters that she will be in Boston this Sunday (Feb 24), holding a fundraiser dinner (a $5,000 per table “Conversation with Hillary” that is “In Support of Hillary Clinton for President”). Now she could hold a fundraiser just as easily in a state that still has a primary to come. But she is instead in Massachusetts because whatever differential in cash she can get by being in Boston instead of in Texas or Ohio (or Rhode Island, where she will be earlier in the day) more than outweighs the advantage she could get in votes by showing up in a still-relevant state.

The other interpretation of this news is that she's so broke that she must maximize income even at the cost of not being in relevant states with upcoming primaries. This is different, but almost as good news for Hillary's opponents to right and left – and almost as disheartening to her supporters. It is at least as telling on this score as the news that she has recently loaned her campaign $5 million of her "personal" money.

Most likely, both things are true: Hillary is now more interested in getting her $5 million back than she is in maximizing her chances of winning. She is no longer fighting for the nomination.

In the interests of full disclosure, I do not support Hillary Clinton, or indeed the Clintons. I am willing to consider that this might be due primarily to my antipathy to their ideological position, or even to subconscious sexism on my part, but I think it has more to do with their being unusually dishonest and crooked for politicians at their level. (I voted against her – for Obama – in the primary, and would vote against her in the general election, but I do not know if I can vote for either Obama or McCain in the general if that is the choice.)

Ode to My Laziness

I'd like to say
that I've been busy.
Putting up Yule lights
and trimming trees.
But the house was dark,
we holidayed on the Cape,
My only active pursuit
cooking a few meals,
and donating old toys and clothes
in time for a 2007 tax deduction.
The firebush can wait.
My wife is a redhead,
but that's not what I meant and you have a dirty mind.
Perhaps 2008 will be different.

Who does this look like?

What is up with the U.S. Mint? Is commemorating the infamous Ron Jeremy some sort of sick joke? Should the citizens of Massachusetts start dressing up like Native Americans and throwing these coins into the sea? I'm just asking...

Red Marks The Spot

In the normal course of affairs, we can’t expect to see a lot of flower color in late October. This bold circle of red Salvia is the exception which proves the rule; I doubt it could look this good this late in the season (10/25/07, Adams) in one year out of ten.

A more typical level of October color would come from the berries on a female holly such as this one (Ilex, variety unknown, 10/26, North Adams), but this is an unusually pretty and heavily berried example, despite the lack of any obvious nearby male pollen partner.

Darwin
By design, fruit must follow flowers, so a plant is more likely to be fruiting than flowering in October. But fewer plants use flamboyant fruits for animal attraction than earlier used animals for pollination. This fruit strategy is common to shrubs and small trees, perhaps their greatest strength in the competition with forest trees and other woodland plants. Their berries are nutritious, at least for birds, and the plants use this fact to attract birds. The birds are often aided in their quest by the berries' bright color, frequently red. For the plants, birds' smaller digestive system and lack of molars mean the seeds will pass through the birds undigested. Bird mobility is of course also a positive. At the same time, many berried plants use strategies to keep from being eaten by larger land animals. Thorns are the best-known, but the toxin in poison ivy, whose seeds are meat for birds, and poison for mammals, is another such strategy. (Poison ivy's red leaves are a great attraction to birds, while its actual berries are off-white.)

Flamboyant Foliage
To get really large masses of bright color in October, we have to look to foliage, not flowers or berries, on plants which are themselves pretty massive. Of course, not all foliage is equal to the task. Evergreens generally have only subtle color changes, and with many deciduous plants even peak fall color is muddy or uninteresting. In other cases a shrub’s bright fall foliage is as ephemeral as are its spring flowers. (Even foliage is running perhaps two weeks later than average this year; but it certainly tends to run later than just about any reliable flowers, except for a few little bulbs such as Colchicums and fall crocuses.)

A number of vines have excellent reddish fall foliage. Poison ivy is perhaps the most beautiful. But leaving aside a few special needs, as in places where trespassers have driven one to misanthropy, there are more reasonable options such as the Boston ivy shown above (Parthenocissus tricuspidata, its specific name referring to its three-pointed leaves, 10/26, Williamstown), Virginia creeper (Parthenocissus quinquefolia, named for its groups of five leaflets), and grape plants (Vitis), which are in the same family as Parthenocissus (Vitaceae).

And of course, shrubs and trees which have red foliage all summer, such as this Japanese maple (Acer palmatum, looks like the ‘Bloodgood’ variety, 10/25, Adams) still have red foliage up until leaf fall – not as dramatic looking in fall when other plants are even brighter, but certainly providing a contrast to neighbors which might still be green, or turning yellow, orange or brown.

So, noting that vines are a niche item which needs the right backdrop and a support which is strong and undamaged by heavy shading, what is generally the best source of massive bright red fall color?

There are a number of shrubs which, like poison ivy, attract the eye with brilliant fall foliage. For example, for those of us with acid soil who are considering the blueberry (Vaccinium), fall foliage is just icing on the (edible) cake. But to me, the role of providing a large and dramatic colorful emphasis is best filled by the much-maligned, much-abused, and much-misused Burning Bush (Euonymus alatus, or Winged Euonymus or Winged Spindle). A common bush, found in parking lots, and sneered at by landscape architects who call it the “worst bush ever” you say? Indeed, all true. But it gets a bad rap, in my not-humble opinion. Next… why I like it, why it's often been made hideous, and how it can be beautiful.

Can't Believe It's October (8th)

Having just missed a frost by a couple degrees, two (?) weeks ago now, it seems especially implausible that these unretouched photos were taken today. First, the Hardy Mum I put in the ground a year ago, whose bloom is just peaking, behind an established Sedum that looks like 'Autumn Joy,' whose color has faded from a fairly pure pink toward a more browned purple.

Second, a closeup with a yellow Trollius (globeflower), red Dahlia, and Ipomeia ('Heavenly Blue' morning glory, which has only been blooming for a couple weeks).


The Trollius, whose main bloom was in mid-July, has a new bloom now probably only because it is a first-year perennial. Like its cousin the Delphinium, and most members of the Ranunculus/buttercup family (Ranunculaceae), it likes more moisture than this raised bed would tend to have, but there in the front row by my driveway it's also easy to water.

This weather means any newly-planted shrubs and perennials should be getting well established, provided we have been watering them every couple days when it hasn't been raining. (Established plants generally shouldn't need watering more than once a week.)

Fall Isn't Only About Foliage

As summer flowers fade, and October themes of harvest, fall and Halloween predominate, gardens are getting more subdued, and more orange. If your gardening energy isn’t flagging, you could fight this with a huge infusion of late annuals, and almost recreate the riot of color of early July. But for those of us who are over age 25 and eschew the use of stimulants more powerful than coffee, it may be more practical to accept the general trend of softer and browner tones, livening them up with perhaps a few points of late-blooming or long-lasting perennials or shrubs (especially roses, such as the ‘The Fairy’ I showed two posts ago).

Gladioli

Gladioli (the magenta spikes seen at left above) are not very long-flowering plants. Their flower spikes look good generally for just a week or so, which period can be stretched slightly if you deadhead the lower flowers (which bloom and fade first) while the topmost flowers are still opening. They are available in any color, but the yellow-to-red spectrum predominates.

Although they are individually short-flowered, you can plant them at any time from the start of May to the end of June or even into July, and they will then flower reliably, if not exactly predictably, about 2½ to 3 months later (by late July, or as late as right now). Their spiky foliage also looks pretty good and healthy for a long season.

My late-planted (6/29/07) Gladioli are almost peaking today. They did not appear affected by the near-freezing morning temperature we experienced the week before last. Late plantings are of course at some risk of freezing off before they get a chance to bloom. On the other hand, in the absence of hard frosts, cooler daytime weather and shortened days should extend any bloom period.

As seen here, I have a clump of Gladioli in my lawn. Gladioli do not mind the low-fertility conditions apt to be found in an unfertilized lawn. You do need a tough step-on bulb-planting tool to get this effect in turf. I think this feature will work better visually if I put a bigger clump next year. In the lawn they stand up vertically; it can be hard to get Gladioli planted in flower beds to do so. You can stake them, or use any awkwardness as an excuse for cut flowers on the table.

Gladiolus corms are not difficult to overwinter, their skin keeping them in good shape under a range of reasonable conditions (unlike Dahlias, whose tubers can shrivel and die if too dry, or get moldy and die if too moist – of course, Dahlias are larger plants, with a much longer bloom season). Late-planted corms are less likely to build up enough strength in their new corms before frosts shut the plants’ photosynthesis down, but like most bulbs Gladioli are fairly cheap as garden plants go.

After frosts have killed off the foliage (or indeed, right now, for earlier-planted ones which flowered more than 6 weeks ago), dig up the corms (or even pull them up slowly by the stem, if they’re in fluffy cultivated earth). To keep them through the winter you should rinse them off, dry them out for 2 weeks on a tray in your basement or garage, then tidy them up by cutting off straggly roots and pulling off last year’s corms. You can store the corms in a mesh bag or panty hose, hanging them up in a dark cool spot such as in your basement. Only the larger corms are likely to flower next year, but you can also save the numerous smaller corms, to plant out next year in some place like a vegetable bed, to bulk up for flowering the following year.

I’ve met a gardener in this area who regularly left her Gladioli to overwinter in the ground. They came back some years and not others, presumably depending on how hard and deep the ground froze in a given year. If you are going to take this gamble, I’d at least recommend putting about 4 inches of loose mulch over them to increase their chances. (We’re in zone 5b in most of the Northern Berkshires, while most Gladioli are reported reliably hardy to zone 8, with thick loose mulch and a position up against your house making them hardy to zone 6, according to my American Horticultural Society A-Z Encyclopedia.)

Hardy Mums

The most common – if not ubiquitous – flowers at this time of the year include the “Hardy Mums,” a form of Chrysanthemum. One can certainly overdo them, but they are healthy and reliable, and available in almost any color except for blue.

Why are Mums always left in pots? Mostly because they’re cheap enough to treat as annuals. Some are not in fact reliably winter hardy here, although they earn their name by holding up well to early frosts. I planted two in the ground a year ago, giving no special coddling or mulching. One survived into this year, and is just now starting to bloom again. I like its orangey contrast with pinky-mauve Sedum ‘Autumn Joy’ as seen here.

Mums like ideal positions, namely full or mostly sun, and moist but well-drained soil. Whether you intend to overwinter them or not, Mums will do at least as well for now in the ground as in a pot, without the need for the regular watering or fertilizing of a pot plant. They are also more likely to survive the winter if they are planted now, rather than after another month in their pots. The only downside to putting them in the ground is if you would consider a death there a demoralizing failure. But if it’s a plant you would otherwise nonchalantly kill off by leaving in a pot outside, why hold on to such a cautious attitude?

Last Chance To Plant, Until...

Southview asked me in the previous post:
"I bought a couple of lilac bushes (just stems with a couple of leaves) and they just arrived. Should I stick them in the ground now or pot them till spring then plant them?"

Here's my quick advice:

Stick the lilacs (or any plant you have) in the ground now. Preferably in a spot somewhat sheltered from the wind, but that isn't essential with most lilacs, as they are very hardy (mostly to zone 3 or zone 4; we are in zone 5; there are more tender lilac species, but I don't think anyone around here would be selling them).

The notion of a fall planting season isn't only a marketing gimmick, although in a colder climate like ours, the spring season is a slightly safer one for marginally hardy plants. The heat of summer does provide a real gap between these seasons, even in the Berkshires. But it's late enough in the year for this area that heat stress is no longer a factor.

Certainly by now we're in the fall season here (and the first official day of fall is September 23 this year), and the earlier in the fall you put your plants in, the better established they will be when the ground freezes hard (roots grow even after leaves fall, but not once the soil nears freezing).

Last year I don't believe the ground really froze until about January 10, so even November plantings of Zone 5 plants should have done fine, but you can't count on such a mild early winter. Basically, we have a couple more weeks of likely good planting season, although I might consider an October shrub purchase if the price is radically cheap (like 60% off a fair initial price).

Lilacs are not houseplants. Keeping them in the house in pots is actually more risky than planting them out, perhaps even if you have a cold greenhouse. And keeping plants in pots outside would be the one way cold could kill them. Effectively, being in pots tends to reduce hardiness by 2 zones. I believe that nurseries holding potted trees will bury even the hardiest of them in foot-deep piles of mulch.

I do recommend that, after some cold weather, when the top half-inch or so of ground is frozen, and rodents have found other places to spend the winter, you spread 2 inches of mulch around the new shrubs, keeping the mulch a couple inches from the trunk. The mulch layer is primarily meant to reduce sudden freeze-thaw cycles, but will also somewhat reduce the depth of hard freezing.

Most winter deaths for plants claimed to work in your zone, especially of new plantings, aren't due to absolute cold, but rather to dehydration, as frozen roots can't supply water to a dessicating plant. This is a bigger problem with evergreens, especially broad-leaved evergreens like Rhododendrons (I recommend Wilt Pruf or other antitranspirant spray for new plantings). You should note if there's a fall drought (which isn't as obvious as a summer drought) and if so keep the plants well-watered.

But ironically, good drainage actually helps prevent the frozen-dehydrated problem. Soggy ground freezes solid, while soil with proper drainage has air pores, freezes less deeply, and allows meltwater periodically to percolate in.

Naturally, I have not done extensive experimentation on all of this (i.e., with randomly selected plants and placebos), but am reporting the collected wisdom of botanists, arborists and other authors whose expertise I trust. I have seen Wilt Pruf-treated rhododendrons looking much happier than nontreated neighbor plants, and have noted the tendency of well-drained and amended beds to not freeze as hard as other spots.

[One last tip. Don't fertilize any plants other than annuals now, or after about mid-August for most zone 5 areas. Fertilizing will encourage soft new growth -- which will be killed off in cold weather -- and should be held off until next spring, generally when Forsythia blooms.]

Cuttings For My Garden

Personally I find nothing more thrilling in gardening than the successful propagation of plants. While growing from seed is pretty good, especially for perennials, taking cuttings of plants is positively magical. It is, after all, cloning.

This year I have taken cuttings from two shrubs. The first is a friend’s red-flowering Weigela, which blooms at least twice each summer, fairly unusual in Weigelas. I don’t know if it’s a known or named cultivar, or a lucky find in a seed-raised plant. (Weigelas aren’t known for great foliage or branch or fruit interest when they’re not in flower, so rebloom is an important feature.) The cuttings were taken in late June. I cut off several branch tips, keeping them in a Ziploc bag with a damp paper towel for a few hours before getting to my garden.

Most of the Weigela cuttings had two leaf nodes. For each, I made a fresh cut just below the lower leaf node, removed the lower leaves, and trimmed back the upper node to two half leaflets (i.e., I cut each leaflet in half). I used a single-edge razor blade, but a knife will do if it is sharp.

I inserted the cuttings in some seed starter mix, in 3-inch Jiffy peat pots, and kept them damp and under a clear plastic cover, with perhaps an hour of morning sunlight each day. Basically a cutting is a race to grow roots before wilting or a fungus takes over, but you can’t try to rush the growth with heavy sun or fertilizer, or you will uniformly fail.

As soon as a cutting starts visibly growing, it is also growing roots, and it can be put where its humidity-sealing cover is removed gradually, perhaps an hour a day for a few days, until it is always uncovered. Once uncovered, you will have to water or mist it daily. And then you put it into successively sunnier locations until it is acclimated to where you want to plant it, and you’ll only have to water when the soil is dry.

As of now I have three strong Weigela plants, which have rooted and more than doubled in size, four more plants whose future is in question, as they haven’t grown and are looking rather tired, and about four which succumbed to rot. (You must throw out any rotting ones lest the fungus or whatnot spread to the others.)

The beauty of cuttings is that with access to a healthy bush it’s trivially easy and cheap to take a dozen of them. And with most plants, most of the time, and a modicum of care, that’s usually enough to guarantee a few successes. If you can get Rootone®, TakeRoot® or a similar hormonal rooting product, that often increases your success rate to a clear majority, but with some plants like willows (various Salix species) you can put a stick into the ground just about anywhere, even upside down, and be almost guaranteed of success. (They are harder to keep alive when rooted in a pot.)

Weigelas aren’t quite as vigorous as willow cuttings, but they are known to be easy, so I didn’t bother tracking down Rootone, which I was surprised to learn is not carried by all garden supply stores and nurseries. Of my three successes, I put two into my garden in late August. The third is in a fairly large (perhaps 5-gallon) plastic pot which I aim to bring inside for the winter and place in a window. Hopefully at least one plant will survive cold, snowfall, and/or neglect (the oversized pot will last longer between waterings), making it to spring, and clear sailing for a shrub.

This year I purchased the rose known as ‘The Fairy’ – a smallish but very healthy, adaptable and long-flowering rose with many small pink double flowers. It is known to root fairly easily, with spreading canes which often layer spontaneously where they touch the ground. The Fairy dates from 1932, and so is not under patent.

On the 13^th I decided to experiment with this plant, to see if I would have any success under, if not the worst of conditions, then certainly a half-assed attempt to maximize success -- late in the season, with no rooting powder, and using no cover, relying instead on shade, cooler weather, and the harder wood of later-season cuttings being more resistant to wilting.

I trimmed off a disproportionately long cane (partially seen in the top center of the first photo) and made about ten cuttings.

I had used a gloved finger to pop the thorns off to the side, making the material easier to handle, but while the Weigela had been softwood in late June, this roses’ hardwood cuttings were, indeed, quite hard to slice through with a razor blade. I was almost surprised I didn’t get myself sliced in the process. Note the sticky pad, which is a 3-inch square; a fully prepared cutting is to the left of the pad.

Most of the cuttings have three nodes; some have two. I removed the lower two nodes’ leaves, and half or more of the leaflets in the top node, and inserted most of the cuttings, untreated, into the ground. This was in a very well-drained area, a raised bed, which I had double-dug and amended with compost a month previous when I was planting a (rooted) Weigela. It is important that the cuttings area be such well-drained and yet moisture-retaining material, free of competing roots, loosened, but also firmed down. Ideally, experts such as Christopher Lloyd recommend a mix of 1 part loamy soil, 2 parts peat moss, and 3 parts coarse sand or grit (1/16 to 3/16 of an inch).

Four of the cuttings I inserted along the rim (shaded side) of the large pot with the rooted Weigela in the middle. This pot is still outside, getting morning sun on the Weigela, but it will go inside for the winter.

Certainly these late, unbabied rose cuttings are at greater risk than the already-rooted Weigelas. But even fully rooted cuttings are not as winter-hardy as larger, established plants. Altogether I will be happy if I get at least one Weigela and two roses to survive into next year’s growing season; after all, they cost me nothing (I did use about $6 worth of supplies I already had, as noted). I may put something cage-like on top of the outside plants so heavy snow won’t crush them.

How late in the season can you do all this? Softwood cuttings are best taken by early July, so as to be strongly rooted by end of season. Hardwood cuttings are supposed to be doable even into November. But in that case, you can’t expect any growth or rooting until spring. (The cuttings will probably survive, dormant, since having no leaves that late they won’t be losing much moisture.) The limiting factor then may be frozen ground. You could, if planning cuttings, prepare the ground ahead of time and keep it unfrozen with a thick layer of mulch.

Any questions?

July Goes Out Like a Lamb

A rather interesting daylily (Hemerocallis) fronts some ladies' mantle (Alchemilla mollis) on my rocky slope.

Lupine fronts unfurling Rudbeckia 'Goldsturm.' This photo was taken today. It's not often a perennial Lupine reblooms (the first bloom peaked around 6/30/07). I did dead-head it quickly after its first flower spike was finished, but it's probably only because it's a young (first-year) plant that the rebloom occurred. (I got it at the North Adams Garden Club sale this spring.)

Best Chicken Ever Goes Down

Sadly, I must report that yesterday as I was driving down Summer Street in Adams, I saw that the Jolly Butcher shop has signs in the window saying "We Are Now Permanently Closed." So another tasty establishment has gone down the tubes. Their pressure-fried chicken was beyond compare (OK, it was a bit like KFC, if KFC used better chicken and had consistent quality control). They also had good raw meat. (See "It’s all about the Ribeye.") Apparently, they just didn't have enough customers.

The problem with depressed retail in Adams and North Adams is of course a lot broader than one shop or even retail in general. And for Summer Street, the relative absence of through-traffic and of out-of-towners adds to the difficulties. Since our main street (actually named Park Street, aka route 8), while busier, also has empty store-fronts, I'd think the longer run solution for this town is for most of the Summer Street shops to move to Park. Of course, if I owned real estate on Summer Street I'd probably feel differently. Hopefully, the new Topia will entice some new customers and businesses to Park regardless.

I haven't had any connection to the retail business since I was in college. And I can't think of any retail concept crying out for a presence here. Except possibly for a bike shop with espresso and ice cream, since the Ashuwillticook ends right at the center of Adams. (However, there is a good bike/outdoors shop a couple miles away.)

Apart from a casino, does anyone have a retail wish, or an idea for something they think could do well in Adams or North Adams?

Rainy Day Project

So as soon as I get a couple days off from all responsibilities (i.e., my children), it starts to rain. A lot of projects have been building up, because it’s been a pain in the butt to find most of my more esoteric tools and hardware parts. So after 12 months in my Adams House (oddly, that’s the name also of the dorm complex I lived in for 3 years, 20 years ago – must have been fate that sent me here), I finally got around to organizing my tools.

Naturally, this meant a peg board, as I had in my last (Natick) house. At Greenberg’s an 8’ x 11’ piece of 1/8^th inch peg board was $11. Add in about $12 for peg board hooks and such (most of which I already owned), some lumber (mostly scraps I had), and a half-dozen hours of labor, and here’s the result so far. (I took perhaps 90 minutes to cut and set up the board and lumber, the rest of the time to go through cardboard boxes, tubs and tool boxes, peg things to the board, shelve larger items, and perhaps most important, hook up some old yard-sale speakers to an equally ancient amp, so the iPod and CD Boombox can be properly cranked with Woodstock-era rock and roll music.)

Now I can instantly find my plumber’s snake (for the slow shower drain) and my small screwdrivers (to fix a lamp cord-switch), and all my other projects will go much more quickly. (Just 10 minutes for the shower drain which has been plaguing me and my understanding wife for months.)

Do any of you have any exciting rainy day projects, done or as yet undone, to share?

How’s Your Garden?

At the Independence Day parade in Williamstown, I ran into a father of a girl who will be in my daughter’s kindergarten class. He noted that it’s been a great year for his garden. It hadn’t occurred to me until just then, in part because I’ve only had my garden here for 11 months, but yes, it has. Almost everything is growing strongly and flowering well. And apart from a little powdery mildew on some of my goldenrod, I have had no problem with fungal or other diseases. Of course, the weeds are also vigorous, there have been insects here and there eating things, and the rodents haven’t let up on their depredations. But you can’t have everything.

Naturally, if this phenomenon (i.e., a great year) is real, and not a figment of our imaginations, it must be due to some aspect of the weather. While we’ve felt a bit sticky from humidity, it seems to me that unlike last year, we haven’t had much very hot weather. (I understand that right around 86 degrees F is the point where most plants stop growing and start suffering.) We also have had plenty of rain, fairly regularly, but not so much overcast weather that things are suffering from a lack of sun.

Here’s a flower bed of mine a week ago (6/26/07). You may note Delphinium and Cosmos in bloom, and a few flowers left on Centranthus ruber ‘Coccineus’ and Lupinus (front center and back right). Not very floriferous, I’ll concede, but: It’s the first year for all of these perennials; the Potentilla fruticosa ‘Pink Beauty’ shrub (reddish twigs behind and to right of Cosmos) can’t be expected to be doing any more in its first season (it was supposed to be a “trade gallon” but arrived as a bare-root -- at least Wayside Gardens did give me a half-back credit when I complained); and the area has a bunch of plants scheduled to start blooming by August (four big Dahlia plants around the middle right, Chrysanthemums at left, Liatris spicata ‘Kobold’ just to left of Cosmos, Solidago / goldenrod and Hemerocallis / daylily at back).

Does anyone else in the area have any other theory about the conditions this year, or have anything to report on growth or health of their plants?

Best Man's Toast

I was Best Man in a wedding this past weekend. The groom is a pretty easy-going guy, and he is an excellent friend of long standing, so the only hard part of that for me was the giving of the Best Man’s toast. I have innately at least the average level of fear of public speaking, and I haven’t spoken to a significant audience since I was 13 years old.* I wanted a proper speech, not just a one-sentence toast, although the groom graciously allowed that the latter would be fine if I didn’t think I was up to writing and giving something longer.

The Best Man’s speech is a tricky genre in which to write. It has to be in part a roast of the groom and perhaps the bride, the beauty of the ceremony and the bride must be noted, and it also must contain a certain amount of schmaltz. Positive things must be said about love and marriage, but not children or “family,” which might lead to nosy questions. Everything must be in balance lest someone be offended or shocked. “Is he saying the bride’s an alcoholic and the groom a poon-hound?” is something I’ve found myself asking on more than one such occasion.**

Anyway, I got a lot of praise afterwards. Of course I can’t be sure it was not the kind of praise you give the retarded girl for her indecent dancing with her grandfather. (No, this example does not concern a guest at this wedding.)

My one regret is that I didn’t play down or hide from the groom my performance anxiety. Giving the groom fewer, not more things to worry about, is ultimately the job description of the best man.

So here goes, as I had it printed out before me.

*******

Excuse me everyone, if I could have your attention for a moment, I’d like to say a few words.

I’m David Pittelli, and I have the honor of being Brad’s best man.

Looking around today at all these guests, I am thankful that the duties of best man no longer include fending off the bride’s relatives with swordplay.

Civilization has advanced from Anglo-Saxon times, and of course Kim would make a pretty formidable swordswoman herself if it came to that.

So now that I’ve delivered a groom and a ring to the ceremony, it is my final duty and honor to make a little speech suitable for mixed company.

First I would like to thank our hosts, Kim and her parents Ruth and Bill, and Brad and his parents Priscilla and C.C. What a lovely place they’ve chosen for a June wedding.

It's my job to compliment the beautiful bride and also to say something profound about Brad. The first part is easy. Kim, you look stunning, and Brad is a very lucky man.

Like most of us here I know one half of the wedding couple much more than the other.

In fact, I have known Brad for almost 30 years.

I’d like to help you all get to know Brad as I have.

But, on advice of council…

I’m going to have to invoke my rights under the Fifth Amendment on all of that.

Brad is getting married late enough in life that, no doubt, many have seen him as a life-long bachelor...

Not that there’s anything wrong with that!

Destiny is a fickle mistress, if I’m allowed to use that word tonight.

In Brad’s case, finding a bride was merely a matter of a company hiring both him and Miss Right… after he had driven a few biotech firms into the ground.

I have been married for a few years. And while getting married was the best thing I ever did, my wife and I do have our occasional disagreements.

To deal with them, Brad, sometimes you’ll need a firm hand.

And sometimes you’ll need a delicate touch.

While washing my wife’s delicates the other day, it occurred to me that Brad really is a very good friend. He helped me through many a romantic crisis in my single days. And if you’ve got a difficult construction project, Brad is always willing to lend a hand.

And he’s more fit than he looks.

Which is a good thing, because it’s murder getting an ambulance through Salem traffic.

I’d also like to say that Brad is the most level-headed man I know and, along with his generosity, another thing that stands out is his appreciation of quality. And today, Brad, you’ve found a lady of true quality in Kim. It’s been an honor and a privilege to be your best man today.

So finally, it is my considered pleasure to say let us drink to the everlasting love and happiness of Brad and Kim!

*******

* A debate before a prep school of 300. One reason I recently taught that class “Rejuvenating Your Shrubbery” was because I wanted to build up some practice speaking to a little group. Well, I got one student! My legions of fans let me down. It’s a good thing I’m not a cult leader, or you’d all be getting the Kool-Aid… Actually, the class size of one meant I could instead hold it in the student’s garden; and I think that worked out quite well for her and was good practice of another sort for me.

** It is fairly easy to write one-liners which might be funny if you heard them second-hand or in a movie featuring an awful toast, but which would really upset people in a real wedding. (e.g., “…No, we won’t be making midnight trips to Tijuana anymore, but John, one thing won’t change… you’ll still be paying for sex!”) It seems to me that the tension created in the audience, when they think you’ve just said, or are about to say, something wildly inappropriate, either explicitly or as double entendre, but then just barely don’t, is the basis for a lot of the humor in this genre. And of course, fitting the details of personality, family and history is a good idea, if for no other reason than so people don’t think you just lifted your material from the internet.

Here are two outtakes – jokes which didn’t quite work for me (the first perhaps too hard to follow aurally; the latter might have worked if I were gay):

I looked up the meaning of Brad’s name and discovered that Bradford is a place name meaning “broad ford” – as in a river crossing – and that Brad just means ‘broad.’ I looked up the meaning of Kimberly and found it means ‘ruler’ or ‘royal fortress.’ Go figure. “Broad” and “ruler.” Now what could that mean?

I know that whoever said that marriage and family can be work was not kidding. But to me, building a family is like planning and making a garden. The result and even the process are usually pleasant, even if you do get a little dirt under your fingernails. Now, ornamental gardening is my primary hobby. Perhaps to Brad marriage should be seen as an extended fishing trip. But then, ending up with a stinky fish would come to mind – so never mind all of that.

Plugs of Poop and Hosta

I have a large row of well-established Hostas, and had known since moving here last year that I would be dividing many of them this May. Except for a few times when I wanted to totally remove a perennial from an unsuitable place, I don’t think I have ever divided one in the classic fashion, by lifting it out of the ground, cutting it up, and putting the pieces back in amended ground. Instead, I have used a smaller shovel to cut individual portions off from the established perennial, like cutting pieces off a pie. This method also allows me (pretty much requires me, actually) to move the center of the perennial a few inches in whichever direction is less crowded.

I am always up for labor-saving techniques and experimentation, and I have considered using a bulb planter to do this work. But I hadn’t gotten around to it, or perhaps dared to do it, until I saw a “reader tip” in Garden Gate Magazine this spring, which said the technique worked for Hosta, albeit with the claim that it was most suitable for fall, not for spring divisions. The primary advantage of this technique is that the cylinders of plant fit neatly into holes cut in the ground with the same tool, meaning less time getting pieces to fit, moving loose soil around, and cleaning up. (On the other had, if the plants’ destination is hard, root-filled ground, you should probably do some digging there anyway to prepare the bed before drilling your planting hole.)

For plants in softer ground, the hand-held type of bulb planter works well. But for some of the plants the earth or roots were too hard, and I used a heavier, sharper, foot-pushed bulb tool designed for use in turf.

This plug-planting was fairly easy to do in early May, when the Hostas were just coming up. You carefully orient two or three buds into the bulb planter, then push or twist down as far as you can, until you get through the crown and root layer, and lift up a plug of Hosta roots, soil and sprout.

I moved the Hostas on 5/6/07, and this photo of one was taken on 6/9/07:

Naturally, the Hosta isn’t huge, but it is healthily established, the moving process was easy, and its removal subtracted hardly a whit from the parent plant. (My hand-held planter is 2.5 inches in diameter at the bottom cutting edge, and the foot-pushed planter is 2.25 inches.)

A related idea came to me a couple days ago. I had bought some Delphinium and Lupinus at the North Adams Garden Club plant sale on May 19. Rushing to put them in to suitable-looking empty spots in my raised bed, I did not notice until later that in some of those locations, the sandy soil lacking in humus drained and dried out very quickly. I didn’t want to be wedded to daily watering, and I didn’t want to traumatize the plants – or overtax myself! – by lifting them and working extensively on their beds, but I wanted to do something more extensive than just a top-dressing or mulch. So last week I brought around a container of composted cow manure, and used my bulb tool to remove plugs of low-organic soil, and replace them with plugs of manure. Since the plants had been in the ground less than a month, I was pretty confident I could skirt their roots by keeping a half inch beyond their original pot diameter, and that a few removed roots wouldn’t matter much. I put 3 or 4 plugs of poop around each plant, then watered. Here is a photo of a Delphinium with two holes of bad soil removed, and one already filled with manure:

Naturally, some top-dressing and mulch would also be a good followup. I don’t think I have to fear burning or otherwise harming the plants if they come in contact with pure manure (it is composted, and claims just 0.5/0.5/0.5 NPK percentages). One concern is whether worms or water flow will sufficiently mix the manure or its soluble nutrients with the adjacent soil.

There’s another experiment I will try some day, when I get a proper subject: a somewhat exhausted “donut-shaped” perennial that I have no particular need to propagate, and which has sufficient elbow room all around. Instead of dividing, I will just drill out the middle hole of weak old plant with one or more stabs with a bulb planter, and then fill the hole with composted manure. Treating the plant thus in situ should be easy and without risk of shocking the plant.

Orange Mockery

Having moved into a Victorian with some overgrown areas less than a year ago, I am still pleasantly surprised as formerly unknown or unnoticed plants have come into bloom. One side of my property is lined with a “hedge” – not a typical in-town sheared hedge of one or a few carefully chosen types of plant, but a hedge of the sort, composed of a mix of species, many of them sown by birds, that one would find along a small farm field. On Wednesday (6/6/07), fresh blooms led me to discover that much of this hedge consists of mock orange, or Philadelphus – overgrown, however, by more aggressive brambles and bush honeysuckle, and topped by dogwood trees (Cornus alternifolia).

Most Philadelphus grow up to about 10 feet tall and wide, but there are 4-foot cultivars. It does not generally get much respect for its appearance out of flower – it is rather like a smaller-caned lilac – and like the slightly earlier blooming lilac, its flowers are most prized for their scent. But I think they look pretty snappy. I wouldn’t have guessed that they are a good cut flower, but I had this spray in my house for two-and-a-half days before taking this photograph, and it has even opened additional buds since I picked it:

Philadelphus has a very pleasant scent, unfortunately not as strong with my bushes as with most of its many named cultivars. Naturally, a bigger vase with perhaps four such sprays would be more attractive and odiferous.

The fact that several of these bushes have survived and even flowered where they have is testimony to their adaptability and essential toughness. Mine did have black aphids on some young branch tips which were in more congested and shaded areas. Pruning out the affected tips and competing growth should open up the bush enough to reduce its suitability to the aphids.

Philadelphus are fairly vigorous cane-growers, reportedly easy to grow from cuttings throughout the summer. They can take hard pruning, and like Forsythia should have about a third of their older canes cut to the ground each year. This not having been done in over a decade, I have a lot of dead and/or crowded wood to remove, as you can see:

A Paean to Gold and Chartreuse

Mid-spring is here, and we can now take for granted the ubiquity of green leaves. But it wasn’t that long ago that brown twigs dominated the landscape, and even the scraggliest of spruces was a welcome sight in the garden. Most evergreens are needle-leaved, which limits the textures available to us in the winter, but of course there are some tough broad-leaved evergreens.

In colder climates such as my own zone 5, the role of the broad-leaved evergreen is most commonly filled by members of the Ericaceae, the heather family. These include the Rhododendron/azalea, Pieris/andromeda, Kalmia/mountain laurel, and Erica & Calluna/heath & heather. All can be quite beautiful, in or out of flower. But almost all of them must have acid soil, while a few tagged as “lime-tolerant” can really just handle neutral (pH 7) soil, lest they suffer from mineral deficiency, discoloration, slow growth, sickness and even death.

Most of the northeast has acid soil, but as I noted in an earlier post (“Should You Buy Shrubs At The Supermarket?”), the particular mountain ridge I live on (in Adams, MA) is made primarily of limestone, such as is most visible at the Specialty Minerals site on route 8, where the base of Mount Greylock is ground into products such as Tums.

If your soil is really mixed up with limestone particles, you can’t as a practical matter acidify it except by putting in a lot of new soil in a raised bed. But if you already have a Rhododendron, it couldn’t hurt to add an acidifying fertilizer such as Holly-Tone, and perhaps some peat moss, to the surface, then cover with mulch. (Rhododendrons have very shallow roots, so you should not try to dig things in.)

With the Ericaceae impractical for many of us, the preeminent broad-leaved evergreen in this area is Euonymus fortunei, the wintercreeper, especially in a few variegated cultivars such as ‘Silver Queen’ and the similar ‘Emerald Gaiety’ – which have white leaf-edges; and also ‘Emerald ‘n Gold’ – which has golden leaf edges. Many people around here seem to have one of these variegated evergreens, especially the former white/silver types.

I am not generally a fan of variegated cultivars of garden plants, because most of them have reduced vigor, look sickly in the summer, and are very picky about getting enough sun (since they have reduced chlorophyll) but not too much sun (lest their pale portions burn). But these Euonymus fortunei cultivars usually look very healthy, and being evergreen bushes they don’t have to start from nothing each year, but can defend their territory quite well once they are established. The white/silver ones especially can look magnificent at all seasons, provided they are given room to spread naturally.

The variegation of ‘Emerald ‘n Gold’ is claimed to turn an attractive pinkish in the winter, but most I have been watching actually spent much of the late winter and early spring with a lot of their leaves looking like sickly pink-brown winter-kill. Right now, however, all signs of winter damage are gone, and the shrubs’ leaf edges are an especially bright chartreuse, as in this picture:

Unfortunately, I think that most of these bushes aren’t used to best effect. First, these rather slow-growing shrubs naturally have a beautiful form, with branches jutting out here and there in an informal, yet clearly noble, display. But most were placed where they cannot spread to their full size (perhaps 7 feet wide, but probably not for more than a decade after planting), and so eventually they are cut back to relatively smooth-surfaced globular shapes, often with hedging shears. Second, these bushes’ unusual color, especially in spring, calls out for some more dramatic contrast than green & gold versus just green or green & silver. How about some red, mauve or blue late tulips, early peonies, roses or Dianthus, as in the picture in this link from "Kachinagirl"? (I’m not allowed to actually show the photo here.)

http://davesgarden.com/pf/go/55631/index.html

By the way, I believe that the mystery shrub with no leaves in “What Would You Do With This Shrub” (April 18) is a Spiraea japonica or Spiraea x bumalda hybrid, such as the popular ‘Anthony Waterer’ cultivar, which will have flattened bunches of pink flowers in another month. Here it is in a photo taken a week ago:

It looks remarkably good for having been such a congested bunch of sticks a month earlier. Such a bush would be: if a Forsythia, or most other genuses, bare-legged; and if a Hydrangea, at least 50% dead wood.