Before leaving on vacation, Gail didn’t write much of a to-do list for us. As she bolted out the door on the way to the beach she said only, “Just try to keep up with the gardens!” It is a daunting task. The combination of steamy tropical heat and a couple of stormy downpours have had opposite effects on gardens and gardeners. We have slowed right down as the gardens have shot up, changing before our very eyes. But even with blood as thick as molasses and sweating away gallons, we’ve managed to keep up doing things like weeding, deadheading, collecting heaps of seed from all of the pink peony poppies, and replanting the last few dahlias and some gladiolus. — Better late than never, I say. In any case, the way the season is going full steam ahead, it will be lovely to have some fresh blooms in the garden a little later than usual.

In one way, slowing down is not a bad way to keep up. Here is a very small selection of new favorite plants and combinations from a slow look around the Display Garden.

Nicotiana ‘Crimson Bedder’ is a loose 2′ tall plant with good sized bright red (slightly pinkish) blooms that looks excellent paired with just about everything (which is good because I tucked it in throughout the big bed in the Display Garden.)

Panicum elegans ‘Frosted Explosion’ (left) and Hordeum jubatum – foxtail barley (right) are both new to us this year and I love them both. Frosted Explosion came with a warning to use it or lose it (it’s a great pick for arrangements) but we haven’t used it much nor have we been diligent about deadheading it. I’m really happy to report that it’s still producing new flowers even in all this heat. We rowed out the Hordeum jubatum in the cutting bed  and although I really love the way it looks flopped against its neighbor, I think it would be more effective planted in a border the same way we tucked in the panicum.

Probably the most photographed combinations in the Display Garden lately are the new residents of the cement pond. The water garden is drying up despite the little bit of recent rain so we’re very happy that these two found a new home here.

Are you keeping up with your garden?

Summer solstice is a perfect occasion for taking stock of the season so far. We’re at a midpoint – at the start of summer – with a lot to look forward to and plenty to look back on with both pride and chagrin. We always like to try new things here and although I have every intention of talking about what works and what doesn’t, I seem to be much more likely to show off our successes (the pictures are prettier). So today I’m joining Susan over at Ink and Penstemon for her Solstice snafu day celebration for a virtual bonfire of disappointments, mistakes and failures.

We tried soil blocks this year thinking that it would be great if we didn’t have to use peat pots or the indestructible coir pots anymore. (Planting this spring we turned up more intact coir pots – it’s like an archeological dig around here.) It turns out that soil blocks are not easy to make. I definitely didn’t get the soil mix right – any suggestions for what works would be welcome. They took every shoulder muscle to jam soil into the maker and a lot of finesse to stamp them into the tray without breaking the fragile clumps. Ours – the ones that held together – were like cement and most of the seeds we tried in them didn’t stand a chance of germinating.

I count it is as a failure that we allowed Lilah (Weed Woman) to take a vacation this week. Not only would we rather be kicking back on a Block Island beach too but the weeds have suddenly taken off as if they knew they were safe. This particular patch of purslane, onions and Berggarten sage (Salvia officinalis ‘Berggarten’) is an example of an intentional snafu. Supposedly onions do not love sage. We want to see if they really won’t grow well or if it’s simply a silly idea to pair such excellent companion plants with each other instead of with plants they might benefit instead.

We were so excited to place the Gunnera manicata in our little cement pond. Gail and I both said, “It’s perfect!” especially paired with our other greenhouse behemoth (Agave americana) in a nearby bed. But then the gunnera started to wilt. My research has indicated that they like full sun to partial shade so I can only think that the poor thing is in re-potting shock. We’ve cut all the big leaves off and might make a last ditch attempt to save it by taking off the flowers too. It just doesn’t look stupendous anymore and I’m seriously disappointed. We might have to take it out and hide it just to keep from feeling so terrible about it.

Plant labels are something I would love to put on the bonfire. Just when I feel like I’m catching up printing them, the entire garden bursts into bloom, hiding the labels I’ve already placed and requiring about twenty-hundred more. The weekend garden docents must have fits trying to find plant names for interested visitors. At least I know which plants I put labels on… And in the last couple of years I never got a tag on this enormous lily. I know that if I’m dying suddenly to know its name, visitors must be curious too. We ordered Lilium ‘Gerrit Zalm’ back in 2008 but perhaps now it’s known as ‘Trebbiano’? Curious.

And lastly, our self-sowers might look to some like an egregious error of judgment but in the case of our pink peony poppies, we meant to have so many. We’ll be saving seed perhaps to sell in the shop. Plus, we and our visitors love them. I did, however, remove them completely from our big Display Garden bed. I have come to the realization that the reason self-sowers are considered such a nightmare is that it’s mentally challenging – heartbreaking and difficult – to edit out something you think is beautiful. But sometimes, just one (or twenty-hundred) will do and make the garden more fantastic than it might otherwise be.

Do you have any snafus to throw on the solstice bonfire? Confess it here and/or head over to Ink and Penstemon to join the celebration.

According to legend, the Rock Garden was Bessie Van Wickle McKee’s favorite place on the property and it’s easy to see why, especially this time of year. But it is a very different garden than when she was alive. Like any garden will, it has changed over the years. By the looks of some of the earliest pictures of it in the archives, she planted a rock garden – emphasis on the rocks – and it looks like it was out in the open, in full-full sun. But Bessie was an enthusiastic plantswoman. Using Louise Beebe Wilder’s Adventures in My Garden and Rock Garden as a reference, Bessie planted a lot more than rocks as time went on. Later pictures show a growing garden with a woodland wildflower feel – with rock paths around good-sized shrubs and under shady trees.

Today’s Rock Garden is one of our best challenges. The amount of sun that reaches it is one part of the puzzle. At least 75% of the garden is shaded at least partially – although since a large English oak was removed recently, some of the shadiest bits are suddenly seeing the sun. And we worry over drainage issues. The whole garden becomes an island in a flood tide – it is located in one of the lowest portions of the property, a stone’s throw from the bay. Most of the garden is wet through the winter and spring but even the soggiest parts of it can bake dry in the summer. It has the potential to be not just one kind of rock garden, but every kind – from mountaintop skree to woodland wildflower showcase to watery bog.

But whatever kind(s) of rock garden it is, scale of it is one of its most important aesthetic considerations – not only because rock gardens typically hold diminutive specimen but also because of the view through the garden’s keyholes. From here Bristol harbor looks like a miniature diorama inside a Fabergé egg. So we’re focusing on making changes that will keep the garden in scale, sweet and low and delicately ornate. This week, with the Rockettes’ help, Gail and I moved some larger scale plants like geranium and heuchera from front-and-center spots to make way for tiny lovelies such as Saxifraga dactiloides and alpine poppies and more campanulas. We’ve added sand to some of the planting pockets to sharpen drainage and a little lime for the saxifrages in hopes of tricking them into thinking they’re at home among the rocks.

As we stand back and look at our work we can tell that we’re not finished adding and editing – for this year, or maybe ever. But we can hope that Bessie and our visitors might approve of the recent changes. I wonder what Bessie’s opinion on metal labels and plants with yellow foliage might have been… (Most of that is Spirea japonica ‘Golden Elf’.) What’s your opinion?