As we grow into our gardens I think we all develop trademarks – styles of gardening or a certain look in plants that is recognizable to our friends as being totally us.  To mark Julie’s next to last day as Blithewold’s Director of Horticulture, I thought I’d share some of what is “so Julie”.

Perfectly and delicately proportioned plants are what I think of as being very “Julie”.  Her favorites tend to have a balance between bloom and leaf shape and keep tidily to themselves rather than bothering the neighbors.   Perhaps because her own garden is the size of a postage stamp and everything in it is in perfect scale, she also tends to gravitate towards anything diminutive that, to me, cries out “so sweet!”.

Tried and true favorites are Tagetes tenuifolia ‘Lulu’ (Marigold) and old fashioned heliotrope (Heliotropium arborescens).

Both have nose filling scents and although they ramble a bit, they are both brittle and more likely to be smashed than to smash something else.  (“Smash” is trademark Julie!)

A few days ago I asked Julie for a few of her current faves and here they are:

She’s into the tiny leaf basils that I wrote about here and the ornamental peppers, especially ‘Candlelight’.

See what I mean about perfect proportion?

Daphne transatlantica.  I love that Julie chose this one because it is Daphne x burkwoodii ‘Carol Mackie’ that is stealing the show in the Rose Garden right now.  D. transatlantica is like the pretty girl’s quiet friend:  When you take the time to notice her you realize she’s the one in bloom.

This daphne blooms all summer without stopping and is wonderfully fragrant.

Hydrangea quercifolia ‘Snowflake’ is at the top of her charts now too (‘Limelight’ will join the list when its blooms fade to pinkish in a couple of weeks).  The double blooms of ‘Snowflake’ are amazing in detail – and look exactly right with the leaf size, shape and color.

The view of the North Garden from the north porch is also a Julie favorite -

- and so is the Red-Tailed hawk that comes by to bathe in the North Garden.  It’s as if the fountain was made for him – it is perfectly proportioned!

What are your trademark favorites?  If you’re inspired to write a whole post about your – or a friend’s – signature style, please share by creating a link to this post.

À bientôt, Julie!

We’ve been getting the exclamation question “What are you going to do when Julie retires?!” since long long before Julie set an actual date. And as the date she set last year approaches, I still don’t have a good answer. For those of you who haven’t grown up knowing Julie or made Blithewold your garden away from home and aren’t yet acquainted, Julia L. Morris is our Director of Horticulture at least through Friday. She’s been at Blithewold for 30 years, knows every last plant on the grounds and in the gardens (no joke) and has taught everyone who has come within shouting distance of the property what it really means to be a Gardener.

Julie likes to tell the story about Vita Sackville-West keeping all of the tags from plants that had died because it kept her humble. I’m not sure a plant has ever died on Julie’s watch. And if anything has died, it certainly wasn’t from neglect (more likely, Kris Green Plant Slayer got too close). And yet Julie is as humble as they come. I remember once, deep within my years on the other coast, I turned on my TV and as it warmed up to the A&E channel I heard a very familiar voice talking about how Marjorie loved to ride around the grounds on her golf cart. As the picture came into view I bounced around the couch shouting “Hey, It’s really Julie! Look – there’s Blithewold!”. Julie took her interview on America’s Castles much more in stride than I did and keeps the light of her horticultural fame and expertise under a bushel. She ought to be every bit as well known as her mentor Ernesta Ballard and as familiar a name in public horticulture as Marco Polo Stufano or Bill Thomas. But she’s much happier in the potting shed than in the limelight.

It feels like there’s a general expectation that Blithewold will implode or somehow self destruct without Julie’s constant devotion and attention. I think Gail and I and maybe even Fred and Dan half expect disaster too. But Julie chose her retirement date very wisely: The end of August is the time for enjoying the story of the garden. We can do a few edits here and there but it’s pretty much ready for the publisher. — Basically as the growing season winds down, we can’t really get in too much trouble! So it’s a good season for our transition from training wheels too. Fred will shoulder Julie’s title and burden of responsibility and Gail will continue as horticulturist in charge of the gardens.

Julie has taught us and mentored by tireless example. We all know better than to let sticks pile up on Bosquet paths, walk past a dry pot without watering it, or plant cardoons in the North Garden. Gail and I will keep growing ‘Lulu’ marigolds and choosing “that’s a Julie favorite” from catalogs and nurseries. We’ll try hard to keep a few steps ahead of the garden – no matter how pretty it is at this moment – to make sure that subsequent weeks are even better. We’ll have trick questions like “Are you going to cut back the teasels today?” ringing in our heads if she hasn’t already come by to ask them. We owe it to Julie to keep Blithewold beautifully tended to her high standards and we’ll prove it to ourselves that we’re up to the job.

Julie might be retiring but she loves Blithewold too much to really leave it, thank goodness. She has promised to help Margaret in the archives and I’ll bet we’ll see her now and again every day in the gardens too. To answer the question, “What are you going to do when Julie retires?!” I can only say, we’ll do our very best.

I’ve been meaning to trumpet about our basils almost since the day we planted them. So without further ado: I love basil (Ocimum basilicum)! Lavender is still the aromatic herb I would dress myself in head to toe if I could but there’s something totally blissful about being elbow deep in basil – it’s a comfort scent that I could just eat up. How convenient then that it’s food!

And it’s not just for the herb or vegetable garden anymore. This year, thanks to Gail making excellent seed catalog choices, we have some beauties and all around winners that we think look great in the mixed garden. She chose ‘Minette‘ and ‘Marseille‘ from Park’s; ‘Boxwood‘ from Burpee; and ‘Pistou‘ and ‘Queenette‘ from Johnny’s. They all have diminutive leaves and all but ‘Queenette’ made orbtacular blobs almost immediately after planting. ‘Queenette’ distinguished itself with an immediate array of decorative purple flower spikes and a refusal to bolt. It resembles a miniature and yellow-greener version of our old standby favorite ‘African Blue’ (which always surprises visitors when they learn that it’s not some kind of Salvia.) ‘Pistou’ has been the first to show signs of exhaustion – perhaps with a set of tiny hedge shears and a flair for topiary we could have coaxed a longer at-its-best season. The bees are sure enjoying the flowers though.

I took my taste test too late in the season to tell the true tale of the flavors and not being a hardcore foodie, I probably couldn’t be very accurate in my descriptions anyway. – To me they taste a lot like … basil …! ‘Queenette’ definitely has a licorice edge though and ‘Minette’ is kinda minty. They all make the most adorable garnish but it might take a few entire plants to make enough pesto (or as the French have it, pistou) to go around. Speaking of pistou, Lyn (a Rockette) brought in a recipe for Soupe au Pistou from “Cuisine of the Sun” by Mireille Johnston. Here is a very abridged version:

1 lb. White beans

a lot of garden harvest vegetables – anything goes this time of year although tomatoes are not on Mme. Johnston’s list.

1/2 cup lean salt pork

2 quarts water

bay leaves, sage, salt ‘n’ pepper

Do your usual vegetable soup making thing and then right before you serve it, add the pesto:

3 cups fresh basil

4-6 garlic cloves

1/2 to 1 cup Swiss, Parmesan, or Romano cheese

1/2 cup olive oil

pinch of coarse salt

Voilà

But of course, nothing goes with basil like a fresh from the garden tomato. I’ll wager that in Super Stop & Shop, you will never find a tomato that would rather be a teapot.

Gardeners have all the fun! (Sorry, Julie. I know it’s rude but you can’t hand me a freak and not expect me to show it off!)

Have you grown any basils you think are spectacular to either look at or eat? Do you have any good recipes to share? Please link back if you decide to make a pesto post!