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    Guess What's in My Garden!
    Guess What's in My Garden!
    Guess What's in My Garden!
    Ebook314 pages2 hours

    Guess What's in My Garden!

    By John S. Viccellio

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    About this ebook

    Guess What’s in My Garden! is an eclectic look at John’s gardening experience, his successes and failures, his joys and disappointments, memories of family and friends, his ideas and strong opinions, and his love for plants. It is an entertaining bedside reader for gardeners, old and new.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherBookBaby
    Release dateJan 2, 2014
    ISBN9781483515342
    Guess What's in My Garden!

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      Book preview

      Guess What's in My Garden! - John S. Viccellio

      fountain!

      1…GRAMMY’S BENCH

      When we were planning our Chapel Hill garden, my wife dreamed of having a special place where she could spend one-on-one time with a grandchild. That dream became a reality when we installed Grammy’s Bench as one of the first items to go in the garden.

      We bought a simple concrete bench. She wanted it to have room just for two…enough space for one Grammy and one small grandson or granddaughter. We tucked it into a corner of the garden next to the path that leads to the backyard. A vigorous purple loropetalum (Loropetalum rubra) is behind the bench; it now tickles your back and needs rather frequent pruning to keep it from pushing you off the bench. Shaded by tall loblolly pines, it’s a cool place to relax.

      On one side of the bench are an ‘Emerald Green’ arborvitae (Thuja occidentalis) and three clumps of ‘Swiss Strawberry’ daylilies (Hemerocallis x). Over the path to the backyard on the other side is an arbor covered with Confederate jasmine (Trachelospermum jasminoides). When the jasmine blooms, the fragrance wafting over Grammy’s Bench is delightful. A pot at the foot of the bench holds pansies or violas from fall to spring and then Wave™ petunias or a pink geranium, depending on which first captures Grammy’s eye at the garden center each year.

      Grammy’s Bench is my wife’s chosen place to share special times with one grandchild at a time. There are plenty of opportunities to interact with them in bunches, but there is only room for one of them on Grammy’s Bench. It’s a great place for a hug. It’s a place to tell a story, to read them a book, just to talk. She talks with them about what’s going on in their lives, their dreams, their favorite book, favorite dinosaur, best friend, favorite game, what they want for lunch, what an achievement it is that they can tie their own shoes. There are interesting and surprising questions to answer. The bench is also a spot to watch the first crocus blooming on a warm late-winter afternoon, to point out the first daffodils poking their green shoots up through brown leaves, and to watch a robin pecking for worms in the front yard. A Grammy and a grandson can smell the gardenias and count crape myrtle blossoms falling.

      It’s a time and place for Grammy to count her blessings…one by one.

      2…WHAT IS A GARDEN?

      A garden is an outdoor art gallery. Every bed, every border, every pot is a natural painting, combining space, form, texture, and color…a reflection of our creativity. It is open or enclosed, formal or informal, wild or contained, native or exotic, defined or haphazard, themed or eclectic. It is a living expression of our unique personalities and taste.

      My garden in spring, highlighted by a weigela in bloom

      A garden is a gathering place. It’s a place where kids run, play, kick, throw, catch, hide, seek, laugh, yell, somersault, and do hand stands. It’s a place where adults meet, stroll, relax, read, bond, share, and learn.

      A garden is a multi-discipline scientific laboratory for exploration and discovery. A garden is a chemistry laboratory in which we investigate soil pH, NPK, trace elements, carbon dioxide, oxygen, fertilizer, and compost creation. A garden is a hydrology laboratory in which we experiment with drainage, berms, swales, water retention, percolation rates, fountains, ponds, and streams. A garden is a biology laboratory where we examine animals, birds, insects, microbes, and creepy-crawlies. A garden is a botany laboratory in which we study propagation, roots, pollen, seeds, stems, buds and leaves. A garden is a physics laboratory concerned with osmosis, capillary action, and photosynthesis. A garden is an ecology laboratory that examines seasons, temperature, pollinators, and predators.

      A garden is a construction site for beds, walls, benches, paths, sculpture, patios, steps, fences, trellises, and arbors.

      A garden is a music hall full of lyrical notes from the bird section, a duet by a wren and a mockingbird, the staccato beat of a woodpecker, the rhythm of a cawing crow, the high wail of a hawk, the zzzz of the busily buzzing bumblebees, the soft drone of a gnat close to my ear, the tinkle of chime and bell, the clash of thunder from a passing storm, the sweet song of a train whistle in the distance, the hum of chirping crickets, a bass note from a fat frog, the burble of a fountain. And every seventeen years there’s a guest appearance by the Cicada Oratorio that adds a low hum as a counterpoint to the entire ensemble.

      A garden is an expression of environmental stewardship where we make personal decisions about watering, about fertilizers, about pesticides, about weed control, about composting, about recycling. A garden is a commitment to the future.

      A garden is a genealogical place where we see history taking place as we watch plants grow over time. A garden is a place to plant a tree to shade future generations. A garden is a place where pass-along plants that were gifts remind us of past and present family and friends.

      A garden is a churchyard in which we pray, meditate, and get married. A garden is a place where we have our ashes scattered.

      A garden is a battleground where we are in constant combat with thorns, weeds, sunscald, frostbite, and critters.

      A garden is a funhouse!

      A garden is a joy!

      A garden is a sure blessing!

      3…YOUR TURN

      My granddaughter Hannah was four when she visited our new North Carolina home for the first time. We spent an early spring morning working together planting our first crop of petunias. I taught her how to dig (she loved that part), make a hole, take the plant from the pot, loosen the roots, put it in the ground, and firm around it. My grandmother did the same for me many years ago. Hannah wasn’t nearly so quick as I would have been, but it didn’t matter. I have no idea where I found my newfound patience. It must be the grace that comes with being a grandfather. I certainly didn’t have that kind of patience with my own daughters. Maybe that’s why the gardening bug hasn’t affected them as it has me.

      Hannah and I salvaged a treated 4 x 4 post to support a new bird feeder we wanted outside the window by our breakfast table. We could watch the birds feed as we fed ourselves. Hannah was excited about the opportunity to help paint the post. I gave her one of my old T-shirts as a smock and had her put on a pair of rubber gloves.

      I dipped the brush, wiped off the excess against the edge of the can, and handed it to her. She made a few strokes and handed it to me. Your turn, Granddaddy, she said. I made my few strokes, dipped the brush again, and handed it to her. Your turn, Hannah, I said. We continued to alternate turns until we finished. Each time, we exchanged the your turn pleasantry. She stood back, admired our work, smiled broadly, and said, All done, Granddaddy.

      A few years later I taught Hannah how to play Gin Rummy. When we play, we always use those same polite terms as the game progresses:

      Your turn, Granddaddy.

      Your turn, Hannah.

      All done, Granddaddy. Gin!

      4…THE IDES OF MARCH

      Today is the Ides of March. It’s a beautiful day! Too bad Caesar isn’t here to enjoy it. I’m having lunch on the screened porch for the first time this year. The chirping and singing of the birds are calling me to get out in the garden. I cleaned the gunk out of the birdbath and filled it…just waiting for the bluebirds and goldfinches. Some springtime weeds are beginning to show; they went into the compost pile.

      The ‘Georgia Blue’ veronica is a wash of bright blue color, a perfect contrast to the yellow violas, loving the warmer weather. The Bridal Wreath spirea (Spirea prunifolia Plena) is the first shrub to go green, with the ‘Anthony Waterer’ spirea right behind. All the shrubs are starting to put out tiny leaves; the dogwood buds are beginning to swell.

      The ‘Emerald Blue’ creeping phlox (Phlox sublata ‘Emerald Blue’) has started flowering. It doesn’t seem to have minded the really cold weather we had earlier this month. That hasn’t stopped the Carolina jessamine (Gelsemium sempervirens); it’s beginning to pour out its pale yellow on the arbor. Pink is showing on the Camellia japonica buds, and the ‘Bath’s Pink’ dianthus (Dianthus gratianopolitanus ‘Bath’s Pink’) is ready to pop. There’s basal greenery on the asters, phlox, sedum, and astilbe. They weathered a very cold winter! My favorite ‘Caramel’ heuchera (Heuchera villosa ‘Caramel’) made it with minimal winter damage.

      My great-great grandmother’s Leucojum aestivum, the bluebells and the iris are sending up greenery, and there are daylilies everywhere. I saw the first peony foliage this morning; at this stage it looks like red asparagus. The crocus is in bloom. The Confederate jasmine (Trachelospermum jasminoides) is still brown…not a sign of life. But I know its history; it will come back later in the spring and be a steady summer pruning chore to keep in check.

      I am excited about the growth on my clematis vines. They all look vigorous and healthy. It looks like I followed the right pruning regimen at last.

      The grass is thick and green…the fertilizer applications over the fall and winter have worked. It is thick! And it’s ready to be mowed. Onions! Where do all the wild onions come from? Maybe after a good rain, I can pull them out bulb and all. I can dream. I forgot to take my mower in for service earlier, so now I’ll have to do it when the shop is full. I can wait.

      All around the garden there are signs that spring has arrived…even though it’s officially a week away. What does my candytuft (Iberis sempervirens) know about dates? It’s already in full bloom.

      5…A FEW OF MY FAVORITE THINGS

      Lightning bugs…memories of being a boy, outside, on hot summer nights

      Butterflies…even at their green and yellow caterpillar stage eating my parsley

      ‘Dusky Challenger’ iris…stately and almost black

      Carolina anoles…puffing up their chests all red to scare me away

      Bluebirds…for their beauty and persistence

      The sweet fragrance of honeysuckle in May

      Earthworms…for doing the heavy work of turning my dirt into soil

      Dusk…when frog and cricket start to sing

      6…GRANDMA’S SWEETHEART ROSE

      This is about a rose bush that was in my grandmother’s garden when I was a boy. I remember it as being huge, climbing high on an arbor, and blooming in spring, with a short flush again in late summer. As big as it had grown, its flowers were tiny, a delicate pink, and particularly beautiful in the bud. Its thorns were sharp and penetrating. No one in the family could remember its proper name; everyone referred to it as Grandma’s sweetheart rose.

      Grandma ran a weekend flower shop business in her small southern Virginia town. She prepared flowers for local weddings and the occasional funeral. The big part of her business was aimed at the special holidays…Easter, Mother’s Day, Christmas…and the local private schools when they had their big dances. She sold corsages, primarily of roses, gardenias, carnations, and the occasional orchid, all of which were imported by train from a florist wholesaler in Philadelphia. When her sweetheart rose was in bloom, she cut fresh buds and made a corsage of them as well. They were fashioned for the young daughter trade.

      Some years later, when I had purchased my first home, Grandma invited me to come with shovel in hand to dig some plants from her garden that might assist my fledgling efforts at landscaping. I realized on that visit that the sweetheart rose was gone. Grandma said that it had contracted a disease of some sort, and she had to remove it.

      Fast forward to a discussion at my cousin Anne’s wedding several decades later. My cousins and I were reminiscing about the fun times in the days of our youth at Grandma’s house. Someone remembered the sweetheart rose, and we shared our memories of it. I lamented that it was gone. Aunt Martha spoke up and said, I have that rose. She explained that she had started it from a cutting from the original at Grandma’s, and she offered to give me a cutting from her plant. She did, and it lived and thrived in my Virginia garden. When I sold that house and moved to North Carolina, I made a deal with my buyer to let me come back at the proper time of year and dig that rose for my new home. It did quite well in its new environment.

      Aunt Martha moved back into Grandma’s old house, and she asked me to root a cutting from my plant so that she could return the rose to its original home. Unfortunately, before I could get one completely rooted for her, she went into the hospital for what turned out to be her final days. I visited her two days before she died, and the very last thing she said to me as I was walking out the door of her hospital room was, I love you…and don’t forget that sweetheart rose. After her funeral, I gave the cutting to her daughter. My cousin recently told me that after seven years, it is growing so vigorously that it needs major pruning. My hope is that this rose, so special to us, will continue to be passed down through Grandma’s family. It is a sweet, sweet part of our past.

      Grandma’s Sweetheart Rose

      7…CRITTERS

      My North Carolina gardens have become five star restaurants for critters. I continue to try to live with a variety of creatures, great and small, whose only pleasure in life is to feast on the delicacies that I have prepared for them in my gardens. I don’t remember having these problems in Virginia; have I been gone so long?

      A beaver chopped down a lovely dogwood and got started on a few choice limbs on our magnolia. This must have been dessert, as she had already enjoyed the main course on our neighbor’s weeping willows. Liriope and pansies are regular fare for the rabbits. I actually caught a rabbit (brazen little devil!) that just stood there and let me grab it with my crab net. After much internal moral debate and anguish, I let it go! What used to be some of my favorite hosta and Siberian iris are now holes in the ground, thanks to the voles.

      A horde of tiny grasshoppers, reminiscent of Moses and Pharaoh, left my anemone foliage looking like fine lace, and some green and yellow caterpillars wiped out a quarter of our herb garden in an afternoon, presumably to fatten up for their transformation into butterflies. I hope, at least, they are the ones that enjoyed our butterfly bushes (unfortunately infested with spider mites).

      And do I need mention the Japanese beetles, mosquitoes, slugs, white flies, aphids, and gnats? Is there no space here to report on snakes, raccoons, possums and squirrels? What is a gardener supposed to do about all these critters? I sometimes think I am building a fortress instead of a garden. I formed chicken wire around our trees to ward off the beavers. I put cages around the Japanese iris to protect them from muskrats. I love gardening too much to let it become a purely defensive battle with traps, sprays, poisons, plant covers, motion detectors, etc. Where is the joy in that? My wife keeps reminding me to keep things in balance and to be gracious. "Build a bridge and get over it!" she advises…frequently.

      There are products galore out there that claim to repel deer and rabbits (Money back if not completely satisfied). The latest craze seems to be various types of urine from their natural predators…foxes and coyotes. I’m not sure I want to know how they collect that material. The cutesy product name award goes to the marketing genius who came up with the name Not Tonight Deer!

      I read about a gardener in Alaska who had success putting dollops of Vicks® Vapo-rub® on his plants…to keep off the moose! And I thought I had problems.

      8…NAKED LADIES

      A favorite bulb is Lycoris squamigera, known variously as naked lady, surprise lily, resurrection lily, or magic lily. I’m sure there are more names out there. The common names derive from the bulb’s growth and blooming habit. In spring it puts up long, green, daffodil-like foliage which then dies back much the same as daffodils. You might ask yourself why you went to all that trouble for just some greenery. But the question is answered in July/August when a stalk rises and beautiful pink lilies magically appear. It is one of the prettiest sights in the summer garden. The bulbs do well with the same basic care

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