I know there are people in the world who think that houseplants/indoor gardens are messy pains in the nether regions, but I kind of love that about them. They provide just what I need to occupy, exercise, and dirty my otherwise too-clean, itchy-to-garden fingers during the winter. As a matter of fact, grooming plants is such a pleasure that I feel almost guilty doing it, and put it off because I think I should attend to other, more odious, tasks first. Like paperwork. Or dusting cobwebs down cellar. But it must be done regularly – daily to weekly – to keep the plants healthy and our spaces, whether living room or greenhouse, tidy, livable, and pleasant. To me it’s as gratifying as weeding (and there’s some of that to do too) because the before-and-after difference is so apparent.

At home I groom when I water everything, about once a week. Here we water more often because the plants are getting so much more sun, and we groom as we go, on the fly usually. But sometimes – the best times – we get a troop of volunteers in on a sunny day, or putter bench by bench ourselves for an hour or two at a time. We pick yellow and dropped leaves, check for infestations and mold, and keep our eyes peeled for plants in need of a nip and tuck (taking cuttings as we go), or any that might be desperate for repotting. It’s like getting reacquainted every time because so much can change from one day or week to the next. Where did those aphids come from? Didn’t we just wash the scale and mold off those lemons? (Last spring…) And there’s nothing better than the sweet signs of new growth. The ferns in particular captivate the heck out of me…

Hover over the pictures for captions (my assessments) or click on them for a bigger view. Though you might not need such a close look at aphids and scale…

Does grooming houseplants fulfill your gardening impulse over the winter too?

Yesterday, Gail and I had the pleasure of a road trip to a garden in the wilds of southwestern Rhode Island that would have felt as far away as Borneo or any other exotic tropical place if it weren’t for the assortment of familiar native plants tucked in with the hundreds of pots of eucomis, colocasias, bananas, flamboyant trees, and gingers. We were treated to a personal tour led by this garden’s owner and designer, Louis Raymond, who is easily one of the most enthusiastic self-described plant geeks I’ve ever met. Even under the weather with a fever, Louis practically jumped out of his socks every time we noticed a particularly awesome plant or already knew of one of his fabulous finds by name.

I’m not sure many people garden the way Louis does. For one thing he gardens large. He has a Tetrapanax paperifer ‘Steroidal Giant’ planted next to his back door that surprised him by sending out a sucker that popped up in the dirt floor of his cellar — not to mention all of the pups that have come up in his terrace like unexpected dinner guests. But does its propensity to travel far and wide bother or worry him? Not one bit. He LOVES that plant and he’s thrilled that a couple of them didn’t die to the ground over the winter last year, which means he might get flowers this fall. Woot!

A lot of what Louis grows, big or small (mostly big) he grows in nursery pots, which give him all sorts of control. He can rearrange the furniture whenever he wants (I’ll have to go back to see if he does that), he can monitor the wildly different water requirements, and he can more easily overwinter all of the tender things he loves. I would wonder why he doesn’t choose to live in a southern climate except that I bet he’d be compelled to find cold storage for all of the northern climate plants he also dies for. Now he uses his cellar to overwinter some things and rents a cold greenhouse for the rest. If you look at his garden and only see how much work it would take to move everything in and out, you might be overwhelmed and miss its magic. Clearly it’s a labor of true, mad love — as is any great garden.

Louis’ enthusiasm is inspiring. We gardeners don’t mind the work we put in (we can still complain about the weather) because the process is almost the best part. But we all have different thresholds and tolerances for effort. I don’t mind pulling out shoots of rambunctious plants by hand when they go too far but someone else might prefer to confine the same plants to pots dug into the ground. What’s a lot of work in the mind of one gardener is a piece of cake to another and vice versa. I haven’t always enjoyed schlepping plants in and out of the greenhouse but Louis even made that seem like it should be a super fun thing to do — as long as you love the plants you’re moving. Suffice to say, Gail and I both left inspired to be even more adventurous. Stay tuned.

What kind of hoops do you jump through to grow the plants you love?

I believe every day is a flower show but an honest-to-goodness Flower Show like the one at Rosecliff in Newport this weekend is a true extravaganza of floriferousness. And I’m not just saying that because we have an entry in one of the competitions. What makes a flower show showier than an everyday flower show in an everyday garden is that every combination of plants – every plant and every leaf of every plant, and every flower is perfectly perfect: scrutinized and meticulously groomed and then judged accordingly. Each designer’s garden is amazing, no leaf out of place and no weeds allowed (not like at home); the containers are all stupendous; the flower arrangements are out of this world; and the cut specimen are always truly outstanding. I think that’s my favorite part of this show and I might just have to go back tomorrow to see what beauties were entered. It’s a great way to learn about new plants.

Competition makes a real Flower Show especially intense and that’s why when we were first invited, along with 5 other professional gardeners, to fill an enormous container with a “Samba Parade” theme, we balked. But then we totally got into it. Gail, Tricia and I put our heads together, floated all sorts of ideas and crazy hare-brained schemes over weeks of lunch breaks, cleared a large corner of the greenhouse to pair plants with ideas and decide on colors, and then went shopping.

We’ve actually been trying to beef up our own container show here with new pots and an exciting mix of plants but strive for sustainable combinations – either one plant or species per pot or just a few different things that will play nicely together, with nothing overtaking and not packed so tightly that they’ll need to be watered more than once every day or two or three. But the Samba Parade container only needs to thrive until we pick it up Monday morning so we jammed 10 different species in and hoped for the best: the plants survival and a blue ribbon.

Fingers are still crossed that the plants will make it through a warm weekend but I just found out that we won a red ribbon. Second best is nothing to sneeze at when the competition is so fierce. The judge’s comment on our entry card reads, “Festive choice of plant material. Design is divided by airy hopbush and dense group of tropicals.” We’ll take that and shoot for cohesion next time. We definitely had an advantage of a greenhouse full of mature and interesting plants to choose from – the purple-leaf hopbush (Dodonea viscosa) intrigued everyone who walked by as we worked – but we felt at a disadvantage to those professionals who are practiced at creating beautiful pots for clients every season and who are in the habit of ranging further afield than we do to find fabulous plants. What’s cool is that all of the containers in this class were winners. The blue ribbon went to one of our very favorite philanthropists, Mrs. Hamilton who employs a team of geniuses; two second place ribbons were awarded, and three were given third place.

Have you ever entered a container or cut specimen in a flower show? Would you do it again?

Given that March felt like May and April felt a little like July, it’s been really hard not to move everything outside and start planting annuals and tomatoes as if it’s safe. But then didn’t April end on a sort of February-ish note? That was just the warning we needed (I guess) to sit tight in limbo a little longer. According to the National Climatic Data Center, there’s only a 10% chance we’ll see a frost around here after May 6. So the good news is we won’t have to wait much longer.

I think I’m ready to move out just because that’s next on the list of to-dos. For the most part though, the plants don’t seem to be in a huge hurry. They actually look remarkably healthy and unstressed. Sometimes, if we’re really busy in the gardens in the spring, we come back into the greenhouse and are shocked to see that the plants have gone downhill. But this year because we were able to start working outside so much earlier, we have had ample time to pay attention to the greenhouse despite the lack of rainy days like this one to devote to inside work. Add to that the fact that the winter was so mild that the shading never etched off of the glass so the plants have not been subjected to those sunny spring days that can really set the greenhouse cooking. The plants are still just trucking along like they have all winter.

At home it’s a different story. Gail calls this time “the bewitching hour” because one minute our houseplants look fine and the next time we look at them, which could be weeks from that last time because we’re so consumed with our gardens, they’re infested, wilted, dead, or a combination of the three. They’ll be much happier outside with us. That said, tropical houseplants will have to wait even longer for nights to warm into the 50′s.

If it hadn’t rained today (we needed it – again!) we would have planted sweet peas. It already feels late to get them in the ground because we usually plant them the last week in April. Maybe tomorrow. After that we’ll watch the night temperatures and continue the methodical move out of the greenhouse. Marginally hardy plants like phormium and rosemary are out already and have been perfectly fine. But then we didn’t get the frost that some did.

Have you started moving houseplants out yet? Have you been able to resist planting tomatoes?

Every year around this time Gail, our friend Mary Ann, and I plan a trip to Logee’s greenhouses in Danielson, CT. It’s not far away — no more than an hour and a half from here but it feels like an excursion. It’s our tropical vacation. If you haven’t heard of Logee’s check out their website and order their catalog. But I warn you: if you love houseplants or tropicals even a little bit, it’s dangerous. If you live anywhere within 300 miles or so, visit the actual greenhouses. They are antique, totally funky, deliciously warm, and beautifully overgrown with hundred-plus year-old plants growing in the ground, blooming and fruiting gangbusters. Every plant, for sale or not, is astoundingly healthy. The plants for sale are tiny cuttings, which makes it all too easy to palm a dozen and they are dear (read expensive) but so worth it. Like a fabulous pair of new shoes: a splurge. But that’s why we limit our visits to once a year.

This year we had a rare treat. The proprietors, Byron and Laurelynn Martin, gave us a grand tour that included their research and mother-plant house – one of the old greenhouses in back. It was chock-full of blooming begonias and plants that they’re still figuring out how to grow like mango and cocoa – both had fruit. In Connecticut! They gave us tastes of crazy things (miracle fruit for one) and tips on how to propagate the seed. (I’ll let you know how that goes.)

They also gave us a tour of their brand new state-of-the-art production and shipping greenhouse out back. Entering Logee’s retail space, you’d almost never know that there is a booming-huge mail-order business behind the scenes. But they send out as many as 300 orders a day during peak times. It’s hard to imagine where they worked before the new facility was built because this space, which must be about an acre, was full to the gills and run like a very tight ship. Byron gave us an enthusiastic rundown of their scientifically monitored and orchestrated – and fascinating biological controls. There were packets of good bugs that feed on the bad ones and certain plants grown just to keep other good bugs growing. They hardly use any chemical pesticides at all anymore. He allowed as how it is more expensive but much better for generations of plants and people in the long run. And it’s clear that Byron and Laurelynn are, and already have been in this business for the long run.

Do you ever allow yourself a Logee’s splurge?