This time of year I absolutely live for the softly warm spring days that get me out in the garden. But after a few days of that I’m always ready for the rain days that pull me out of the garden and back into the greenhouse. We potted up; I went nuts spraying insectical soap on the few (very few) whiteflies and aphids (it’s better for the plants to spray soap and hort. oil when it’s cloudy) and we did a little more moving out. Our greenhouse days are numbered now and I am cherishing them - especially while it’s not too hot in there.

We’re very lucky at Blithewold to have The Julia L. Morris Horticultural Center. But before it was The Julia L. Morris Horticultural Center (named in honor of our bosslady director of horticulture, Julie) it was a falling down wreck of rusted iron, 100 year old cypress, broken glass and potty bricks and was pretty much held together with 5mil plastic stapled to the muntins. Some of you might remember the sign on the door: The Greenhouses Are NOT Open To Visitors Trespassers Will Be Composted. It was dangerous enough for the staff to be inside - a big wind was particularly scary - but the thought of visitors tripping on the rotten boardwalk or being beaned by falling glass was severely cringe inducing. Only one of the big houses was heated - with a giant noisy blower hung above the door like a booby trap - and the other house was left to freeze with only the hardiest of tender inhabitants - a couple of collection fig trees planted in the ground. The little propagation house was warmed (ever so slightly) with rickety radiators and was stuffed to the gills.

I only risked my head a couple of winters in that greenhouse before the dilapidated Lord & Burnham was restored to its present glory (thanks to grants and generous donations and a contractor named Stephen Wacha) using modern materials. We have efficient radiant heat in all the houses, a safe walkway, benches that stay standing, vents that open and close automatically and new fans that have helped regulate the temperature and keep the bug and fungal activity to a minimum. And it’s open to the public! Some of the original features remain - the south gable end is restored cypress, the iron work finials were cleaned up and put back up and the vent cranks were reinstalled as decorative features. The old greenhouse lives on in other ways too - sills and foundation blocks and iron gutters are being recycled in all sorts of different ways in the gardens and - look at this - a most handsome railing for the pumphouse that Fred, Dan and Joel put up yesterday using what looks like cypress and iron from the old palm house (dismantled long before our time).

I keep hearing stories about people who have unused greenhouses on their property and I go green(house) with envy. I know that heat and maintenance cost an arm and a leg but still what I wouldn’t give… Most gardeners I know make do with sunny windowsills, grow lamps in the cellar or a cool southside porchlet like mine here. What does your greenhouse look like?

This Sunday Julie and expert plantsman and volunteer Gil Moore will be here from 1 - 4:00 hosting an open (green)house. They’ll have answers for your Mom’s questions and there will even be a few choice houseplants and tender perennials for sale. Happy Mother’s Day!

If you learn how to read the looks of things in nature you can figure out just when it’s the right time to do just about anything in the garden. — You can be your very own farmer’s almanac! I have no good memory for this stuff - I know that when birds are on the wing, it’s time to do something… And I remembered something about oak leaves being as big as mouse ears - but Gail had to remind me that that’s the rule for when it’s safe to plant the tender annuals. We did get our lettuce in right on time today - as it happens, the lilacs have leafed out. The thing that’s confusing to me just dabbling my toes in the phenological pond is that things like oaks and maples (you can plant perennials according to this site’s list when the maples unfurl) have timing that’s all over the place - our gardens and streets are full of so many varieties now. Some of our oaks are still tightly wrapped while others’ leaves have exceeded mouse and are now fully cat. Which one do we believe? (I think the later ones or whichever ones are native to these parts.) Here at Blithewold we tend to go more by the moon when it comes to putting out the tender stuff. We’re typically safe from frost after the full moon in May - so oak leaves or no oak leaves after that is when we’ll start getting plants out of the greenhouse in earnest.

And then there’s full-on gardening by the moon: Dick and Cathy planted leeks today. According to the moon it might be just the right time - depending on whether they’re considered an above-ground or below-ground crop! (I’m easily confused.) Above-ground crops should be sown/planted during the waxing moon and below-ground with the wane.

Or you can do things according to your own busy schedule and hope for the best! We most often get things done exactly when we have a moment to do them. So I’ve decided to make up some of my own rules:

When the Maackia amurensis leaves are still silvery jewels, the Golden Larch is leafing out and the crabapples are starting to bloom, it’s definitely time to pot up dahlia tubers - which, speaking of mice, look an awful lot like a box full of them. — We pot up the dahlias that are earmarked for the North Garden so that when we plant them, they’re already up - we’re much less likely to trample them that way when we’re working in there.

Do you follow any of nature’s rules? Which ones? And better yet, do you make up any of your own?

Look up. Look out. New leaves are turning all over the place! I think if you had the patience you could practically sit and watch the births like chicks hatching. I don’t have that kind of patience - or that kind of time! But I’m glad to have taken a look up and out this morning. The Cut Leaf Full Moon Japanese Maple (Acer japonicum ‘Aconitifolium’) was my morning’s favorite and another that sports puppy fur - which reminds me, no one has shared the answer yet to the fur’s-purpose question from the other day - my guess is still for frost protection.

The Kentucky yellowwood (Cladastrus kentuckea ‘Sweet Shade’) is finely fuzzed too. - What a shape! This one was my favorite.

And the Cinnamon fern (Osmunda cinnamomea) are also nestled in fur muffs and suprisingly tall all of a sudden! (favorite)

The Katsura (Cercidiphylum japonicum) leafed out overnight - the last I looked it only had flowers and now it’s got leaves the size of quarters. (2nd favorite)

And the Butterbur (Petasites japonicus) is giving me fits because its leaves have grown so much in the last week that I’ve had to move the label further out 3 times. (gah. but, of course - it’s a favorite.)

Aside from watching the leaves grow, strolling through a peak daffodil display and chatting with hundreds of visitors (hurrah for a banner week!) we’ve gotten a lot done the last couple of days and even put some stars on our calendar. -We draw big stars and underlines and color it all in highlighter orange when we’ve passed a major milestone. This week it was planting the sweet peas! We grew 17 varieties (including colors like Royal Wedding and April in Paris - in honor of my March) and planted them on a new fence edging Dick’s vegetable garden.

We also spent time with the Rockettes this morning replanting a muddy bank of Astilbe that have been hurling themselves out of the ground in the last couple of years. We could just pick up the clumps with our hands, they had heaved so much. Some clumps managed to survive such a life (fish out of water) and we’ll replace the ones that died with other things that might like a boggy shade bank that occasionally goes bone dry in a drought. (Is there anything?) This is a really good time, by the way, to move, divide or replant perennials - we try to do all our perennial moving before the end of April.

And could it be time already to hoop the peonies??!! Better check yours - I got our hoops on in the North Garden just in time - I didn’t have to smash and yank!

What have you been up to this week? Any milestones?  Turn over any new leaves?

No matter what I set out to do, something else always grabs me. All gardeners are familiar with this phenomenon (and some have already written winningly about it!). I went into the greenhouse with every intention of shifting pots from bench to bench in an attempt at organization. It was inevitable really that I’d discover that some plants needed water so of course I checked the whole place. In the middle of that sidetrack I discovered that the larkspur seedlings were eaten (grrrr!) and spent the next 10 minutes on a slug patrol. I checked the bottom of every peat pot, booted the little devils and unceremoniously squarshed them. (I think sometimes I should pick on someone my own size but a couple of these nearly were.) Anyway I’m getting sidetracked. So, I was in the middle of doing that when I noticed that the pitcher plant (Sarracenia leucophylla ‘Tarnok’ - ‘Judith Hindle’) flower was starting to unpeel and because I promised a couple of visitors last week that I’d post a picture I had to run right then and grab my camera.

I’m so sidetracked right now by spring that I might as well just get off the train for awhile. This is the other stuff that hooked me today: New leaves on the Red Chestnut (Aesculus x carnea ‘Briotii’) still have their puppy fur. Anyone know what the fuzz is for? My guess would be frost protection but then why do only some early openers have it?

The Pasque flower (Pulsatilla vulgaris) is furry too.

The Quince (Chaenomeles) reminds me of popcorn which reminds me that it’s ages since I went out to the movies…

The Winter hazel (Corylopsis glabrescens ‘Longwood Chime’) is still shaking out her skirts.

The Water Garden Cherry (Prunus x yedoensis ‘Akebono’) is in bloom - this tree would stop you in your tracks too.

And of course the Daffodils. Peak-a-boo! Most of the ‘Ice Follies’ have bleached to white and might go by in the next couple of weeks but the late bloomers will distract you completely. This one is Narcissus poeticus. When your daffs go by, it’s ok to deadhead them but be sure to leave the foliage on to nourish the bulb for at least 6 weeks. (Ideally you should let the foliage turn completely yellow and pull it when it comes out easily.) In case you’re wondering, we do not deadhead all 50,000 daffodils but we do tidy up the ones in and around the gardens and hope that we’ve been clever enough to plant something that will fill in and hide the clumps. Do you plant cover-ups? Do you braid the foliage à la Martha Stewart? Are you so easily sidetracked that you stop noticing it?

And I almost forgot! (I was thinking about popcorn.) - The Bosquet fountain is on! I’d never seen it in action - it’s been pretty much out of commission for nearly 10 years. Thanks to a generous grant and lots of hard work it’s a water feature once again. It would be lovely to sit and listen to the trickle… FYI: our restrooms are located to the right of the mansion entrance.

I could tell this morning, when the birds were louder than the chuckle and siss of my coffee maker, that spring has sprung officially and certainly, no doubt about it. It even seemed almost a little easier to bounce out of bed this morning. Now that the forsythia is in full bloom I think it’s time to really pay attention or the next thing you know it’ll be mid-summer! Do you have color associations for the different phases of the seasons? Spring, to me, is a bright yellow and light greenish feathery time and then there’s an early summer shift to pale blue. It seemed like a lot of people walking the property today were in my early summer color - there’s a lot of blue going on and I don’t think everyone was decked out for our superstar garden and archives volunteer, Mary - or maybe they were! We, the staff, and a few volunteers definitely were. Here’s all of us wearing blue. We love you, Mary!

I’m not sure what happened to the lull I mentioned last week - it’s over and we’re already in 4th gear revved to full speed ahead. We started moving some of Dick’s and our vegetables outside to harden off and yesterday the Rockettes deadheaded the hydrangeas by the summer house and Gail and Joel and I started moving shrubs and the last few perennials out of the Idea Beds. (More on the Idea Bed redesign later.) We also planted out the foxgloves we babied in the greenhouse over the winter and helped the Florabundas cut back the old liriope leaves in the bed by the Moongate. If the days weren’t so beautiful our crews might have complained bitterly about their hydrangea and liriope chores being like deadheading the Coryopsis ‘Moonbeam’ - which if you’ve ever attempted that task you know it’s tedious-ridiculous-endless. We don’t have any ‘Moonbeam’ in the gardens anymore…

And I can’t leave out the daffodil report. It’s so close to peak I’m calling it pretty nearly peak. The next couple of days are forecasted stunners and I think that the buds that are poised to open might just have to pop. We still think full and total peak will occur this weekend and into and beyond next week as long as the weather cooperates. Keep an eye on the forecast and please come through whenever you can!

Vacation week is perfectly timed this year or else it’s the daffs that are right on time. No matter if you think that spring is early or late this year, it’s surely happening now. And it’s Garden Bloggers Bloom Day (hosted by gracious Carol of May Dreams Gardens)! It’s all blooms all the time from now until Christmas and here’s a little taste of what’s open: First and foremost, the Daffodils. Probably 60% are open — I think all of the ‘Ice Follies’ are showing and we think, depending entirely on the weather, we should be at 98% (that’s peak!) by early next week. And the show will go on barring tempests, freezes or scorchers — then, of course all bets are off. So come when you can! You’ll also see these other things blooming today if you’re on the lookout:

Sharp leaved hepatica (Hepatica acutiloba) in the Rock Garden,

Lungwort (Pulmonaria augustifolia azurea) camouflaged with the Scilla also in the Rock Garden,

Another Lungwort (Pulmonaria sacchorata ‘Mrs. Moon’) in the Rock Garden,

Narcissus ‘Ice Follies’ in the Water Garden,

Dawn viburnum (Viburnum x bodnantense) on the path between the Bosquet and the Water Garden,

And check out the Katsuras (Cercidiphyllum japonicum) blooming!

I almost hesitate to show the weeping katsura blooms up close (they’re a little pornagraphic don’t you think? - Maybe sensual is a better word. I’m having a Georgia O’Keefe moment…)

And did you notice? - There are some new decorations on the left hand side bar. The first one is Blotanical and if you don’t already know about this terrific site, take a look. It’s all garden blogs - and blooms - all the time from all over the world and placed so handily at your very fingertips. You can search by location and see if any of your neighbors have opened their gardens to the public. The site was developed by a genius Aussie named Stuart who you might have met in our comments box from time to time . (Maybe one of these days he’ll visit us in the flesh! I think he should make a point of visiting all of us garden bloggers…)

And we’ve also decided to join the commercial world and have made room for an Amazon ad. Our hope is that anytime you need, want, desire something from Amazon.com, you’ll stop by the blog first (and don’t we all order from Amazon occasionally? - it’s just so conveeeenient). By clicking on our link and following through with a purchase, Amazon will send us a commission. It’s one of the very easiest ways to make a donation. Of course if you’d like to make an actual tax deductible donation please click here! I will try to keep the Amazon ad interesting by posting our favorite books - which just happen to be available for purchase!

Happy Bloom Day everyone (and happy shopping!)

I got a full dose of vitamin D yesterday - I think everyone here did. It was our first short-sleeve warm sunny day and it seemed like the world was out taking deep sips. I know that I should have been suited up in a wide brimmed hat with plenty of brand new sunscreen slathered on every exposed inch but covered up was the last thing I wanted to be (though modesty precluded a striptease). There’s plenty of debate between getting our vitamin D from the sun vs. getting skin cancer from the same exposure and call me a vitamin D junkie but yesterday I got my fix and went home with an (un)healthy glow. What is it about the sun this time of year that can make you feel so great? It was softly warm and totally energizing. I’ve read that vitamin D isn’t linked to mood - though after years feeling S.A.D.D. in the dimly lit Pacific Northwest I have to think that it’s doing something to improve my outlook - maybe just knowing my calcium absorption rate is improved makes me feel livelier…

Whatever it was (the sun, the heat, the birds’ chatter) made me feel ready to go,go,go but we have reached that limbo stage in spring that is actually perfectly timed with the soft days. The gardens are tidy and ready and we’ve got a couple-week lull before the frenzy of spring and early summer planting. It’s not as if there aren’t chores to take care of right now but they’re not particularly taxing yet (no pun intended for those of you against the deadline). Now is when we concentrate on getting the greenhouse inhabitants groomed and ready for their eventual move outside (the Camellias are already out!) and we transplant hundreds of seedlings - more fastidious, deliberately sedate work is hard to come by. If you haven’t started a feeding schedule for your houseplants, now’s definitely the time. Give them their vitamins on the next sunny day along with a thorough check-up and groom session. And get yourself outside (as if you need convincing!). But if you’ve finished spring cleaning the garden (have you finished?) and are energetically wondering what’s next, take a walk. So much of gardening is noticing and there are definitely times of year when we get so focused on the doing of gardening that we might (I speak for myself at least) forget to notice. The peepers are back; The ospreys were right on time; there are bees in the scilla - have you noticed? I also love (and you know this about me already - now is when I start to repeat myself) to look up close at everything this time of year. There’s something so amazing about the little things.

From a distance the red maples are a hillside haze of red - up close they are garnet ornaments.

In the lull of the next couple of weeks, take your vitamins in the form of daffodil solar flares (even if daffs aren’t your thing, don’t they make you feel a little bit happy?) and a skyward gaze at the buds in trees. Yesterday’s warmth encouraged a few more daffodils to open - the Bosquet is not completely carpeted yet but its throw rugs are gorgeous. The weekend weather is forecast to be pretty dirty but don’t let a little rain and wind stop you from getting out and coming here. We’ve got displays in the house (check out Bessie’s awesome hats) and a great view into the Bosquet from the living room.

Wherever you are, in spring there comes a time when you should really stop avoiding your rose pruning duties. I don’t know what it is about roses but they seem to give people anxiety. I know I’m not the only one who has worried about doing roses “wrong”. People always stop to watch and learn when we’re working on the roses as if we might reveal the secret handshake. But you don’t have to be a part of a club to grow a pretty rose and even if you don’t obey the “rules”, the Rose Society police won’t arrest you for misconduct. (I’m pretty sure.)

The best time for spring pruning is before the buds have broken and on a mild weather day when all you want is to be outside doing something productive. Pruning when the roses are ready to break dormancy will ensure that all of their fresh energy goes straight into the canes and buds that you’ve decided to keep. Most of the roses we grow in the Rose Garden and North Garden are shrub roses and floribundas and those seem to love a heavy hand in the spring. (New roses only a year or two old prefer a lighter touch.) For instruction on different kinds of roses like climbers and hybrid teas, there are shelves of books written by experts - your local library probably has a ton.

We cut most of our roses back by about a third but I have to admit that once I get going, more like half goes sometimes. Cut out all the dead canes and give your rose the hairy eyeball to determine if any of the more elderly canes should come out as well. Take your time and go cane by cane - If there’s a young healthy cane and an old one side by side - maybe go ahead and take out some or all of the old one to give the new one room to grow. Your rose will tell you what to do - if you cut too far above a bud, you’ll find an ugly dead stub there in a few weeks. Cut too low and the bud might die. If you make your cut at an angle the water will run off rather than pool in the wound (who wants that?). Think about the shape of the rose to come. A lot of roses look their best with plenty of air circulation through the plant. If you cut above buds that face out rather than in, you’ll be helping the plant to not choke itself. (The books will tell you to make a V shape.) Crossed canes are another something to look for and cut out.

When the volunteers and I started this year’s pruning with trepidation, Julie reminded us, “Plants are forgiving”. Don’t be afraid. Even if you stand back and think you just butchered your prize ‘Ballerina’, it will probably reward your brutality by growing gangbusters.

Have you worked on your roses yet? Do you have a heavy hand or light touch?

The roses aren’t the only things in the garden ready to grow. We’ve started cleaning up the perennial beds - it’s much easier to cut back the dead when the new growth is still tight at the crown. And the Daffodils are looking like a few warm days is all it would take to bust out singing. I still think the peak bloom will be on schedule during the events of Daffodil Days but some of the ‘Ice Follies’ might start their show this weekend. (The house opens for the season on April 12; the grounds are open now.)

I’m back! Mostly. Pretty much. Almost. Paris was a fantastical and footsore dream and I’d love nothing better than to go back there right now - we’re scheming about finding grants to attend the beekeeping school at Jardin du Luxembourg (me) and Le Cordon Bleu (he). And if I can’t be in Paris, I’d love nothing better than to be checking on spring at Blithewold. But instead I’m home with a bug. (Perhaps intestinal distress was a gift from the woman who shared my seat on the plane - I’ll have to put her on the ThankYou note list - I have a year, right?)

In Paris spring was on the march (ha! unintentional pun totally intended) with daffs already starting to go by. Here they’re up and budded. Word is, Blithewold’s 50,000 or so might be a titch earlier to bloom this year than last so make sure to stay tuned for my up to the minute updates and daff cam. ‘Little Gem’ planted by the Moon Gate are already out so the biggies starting with ‘Ice Follies’ shouldn’t be too far behind.

In other news, Gail is famous! Check out this article by Linda Borg of the Providence Journal. A couple of amendments are necessary: Gail didn’t say that all of the 600 tulips in the North Garden were eaten by deer - heaven forbid!! She said she hopes they won’t be! (Precautions have been taken because the show must go on!) And to clarify - our resident wild honeybees reside in a horse chestnut stump near the greenhouse - they only come inside for visits, not to stay.

Please catch me up - I’ve been out of the loop! How is spring March-ing on for you?

Sometimes that’s not a bad thing. (I’m not talking about Superbowl Sunday chili binges and consolation snacks for sad Patriots’ fans.) Deliciously spring-like temperatures and the weekend’s warming sun have started plumping up the buds - some fit to burst.

This willow in the nursery (labeled Salix ‘Mt. Aso’) couldn’t wait another moment to bust out its fiberoptic glow plugs and the witch hazel (Hamemelis x intermedia ‘Diane’) has begun uncreaking its crimps like an arthritic yogi.

Buds on the Cornelian Cherry (Cornus mas) are fairly rotund and the Star Magnolia’s (Magnolia stellata) are fat fuzzy slippers which hopefully will not be tempted to unwrap too soon in the yo-yo weather. The hellebores (Helleborus foetidus) have finally un-caped their plump buds right on schedule.

What has put on fat in your garden? Whenever the weather’s not too rotten, take a close look. This is a great time to test your winter i.d. skills (if you learn to identify trees and shrubs in the winter, you can i.d. them anytime - who needs leaves?!) and if you’re out there watching the buds and ticking off the days to spring bloom, you won’t miss the show. (Winter and spring bloomers tend to not be big self-promoters. You have to seek them out.)

If you want a spring tease, cut a few branches of early spring bloomers and place them in water. About a month ago I cut some Forsythia and Flowering Quince (Chaenomeles speciosa) and kept them in one of the cool greenhouses. The Forsythia opened over the weekend and the Quince will probably be only another sunny day behind. When you first cut the branches and put them in a vase, make sure to make a verticle cut through the base of the stem to expose more pithy surface area to the water. To speed bloom, give them fresh warm water everyday and keep them in a warm, sunny location. To slow them down, give them only cold water and keep them in a cool room. Depending on how close the buds are to breaking when you pick and how warm they are kept, forcing can take anywhere from a week to (in my case) a month.