Our Tuesday volunteer group has been known for years — for ever? — as the “Deadheads” because they work in the Display Garden and traditionally, the biggest summer chore in these gardens has been to deadhead flowers to keep them from quitting and going to seed. While we still ask for help deadheading the annuals in the cutting garden to keep them blooming gangbusters, in recent years we have not deadheaded the other beds as rigorously. Now when the Deadheads ask if we want echinacea deadheaded in the pollinator bed we say, “No… let’s leave their seeds for the birds.” And when they ask if they should deadhead the betony, beebalm, cardoon, teasel, and eryngium, we say, “Nah, don’t those look cool?! Let’s leave them up for the winter.” Perhaps the Tuesday group needs a new name…

I know the betony (Stachys monnieri ‘Hummelo’) wouldn’t have bloomed again because we cut a couple of clumps back last year as a test, but the beebalm (Monarda fistulosa ‘Claire Grace’) might have rebloomed, and there are still buds opening along the echinacea stems. But right now I wouldn’t trade any of those seedheads for their flowers. Not only are they beautiful (in the eye of this beholder) but there is more wildlife activity in that garden than I ever remember seeing before. It’s positively mesmerizing – I’ve been so distracted that visitors have caught me gawping instead of working. Goldfinch, wrens, and sparrows are all vying for seeds and hummingbirds, bees and butterflies are still zinging around working all of the flowers that aren’t ready to go to seed yet.

But there’s a fine line between letting the garden go to seed and letting the garden go. Some gardeners and visitors might think the cardoon seedheads look more like the undead than the simply un-deadheaded. And I imagine that it might make some people nervous to watch them self-destruct and send helicopters wheeling on the wind to float with the butterflies and catch in the grass and on bare patches of soil. But that doesn’t make me nervous. As long as the stalks are still standing upright, surrounded by a colorful garden that looks tended (it’s been meticulously weeded and propped, if not deadheaded) rather than abandoned, and the birds are happy, then I figure we gardeners are as golden as the light that falls this time of year.

Do you deadhead everything up until the bitter end or do you leave seedheads standing for their looks and for the birds? Have you found a happy medium? (Have we? – All opinions welcome!)

Yesterday working in the Rose Garden one of our diligent volunteer weeders gave us a rare opportunity to check out some flowers that were never meant to be noticed. As the gardens continue to explode with blooms of every color, size and shape, and attract pollinators of every walk, fly, creep and crawl of life, some plants like these violas (which to us are only weeds if they’re in the wrong spot) are working overtime to produce closed, “cleistogamous”, self-pollinating flowers instead. Nature is weird.

Evidently, violas find their springtime pollinators so unreliable that they developed a last ditch survival mechanism: DIY pollination. It’s a terrible method for promoting genetic diversity – species are better off using “chasmogamous” or opening flowers to cross-pollinate – better yet, for a plant to reject its own pollen in favor of that from another – and change with the times. But survival is survival say the violas, the fittest be damned. We couldn’t help dissecting a couple of the flowers to check out the parts inside but would have needed a microscope or at least a loupe to identify anything. The ripening seeds were visible enough. I’ve never witnessed this but when they’re fully ripe and ready to go, they’re ejected like toast from the pod. Nature is cool.

Violas aren’t the only plant with a backup plan. Jewelweed (Impatiens capensis) does the same thing – though I couldn’t find any of its cleistogamous flowers. And I got kind of excited thinking that perhaps these pale green pouches (below, right) on the wooly morning glory (Argyreia nervosa) are its flowers because I’ve never seen them open further. But according to Google images, the buds inside eventually do open into chasmogamous flowers that are quite attractive – to my eye and probably to pollinators as well. Learn something new everyday.

When the cicadas start buzzing early in the morning we know we’re in for a scorcher. With temps in the 90′s, high humidity and ground level ozone levels that were predicted to “approach or exceed unhealthy standards”, all we can do – without falling over – is the bare minimum. It’s a good thing we’ve finished planting because all we really need to do now is water, maintain, and harvest the bounty. As for watering, Nature helped a bit yesterday with a freakish afternoon downpour that gave us at least half an inch and by the looks of the refreshed gardens, some of it actually soaked in rather than running right off. As for maintaining, I feel inclined to leave a few extra seedheads for the goldfinch and have concentrated on staking slouchers instead. (I have never noticed our pink peony poppy seedheads looking eaten before – peeled like bananas. But today I caught a glimpse of the goldfinch at work on them and also snacking on the Verbena bonariensis.)

And as for harvesting, there were lots of flowers to pick bright and early for house arrangements, and the vegetables are coming in gangbusters. It was wonderful to be joined by a skeleton crew of very local and very willing-to-be-sweaty volunteers who spent an hour picking a cart-full for the East Bay Food Pantry and then hopefully went straight home to recuperate in front of the A/C. The rest of us on staff who aren’t relaxing on vacation (I’ll follow Gail’s excellent example in a couple of weeks) will have to find inside work for the rest of the day. Check out the fruits of some of my indoor labor here - I finally published plant list pdfs! (For future reference, they are located in a clickable page on the right-hand sidebar, underneath BECOME A MEMBER.)

What are you doing to keep cool?

Why is it that a pack full of seedlings is a thrilling thing and a carpet of seedlings in the garden is alarming? I once got in big trouble with a friend for bringing teasel (Dipsacus fullonum) seedlings to a plant swap because when they grow up they do this:

So do a lot of plants. I wonder if some gardeners’ preference for seedlings in packs is a control thing. We know how many we’ve sown and despite it being more time consuming to carefully transplant these guys, we’ve got a grip on them, so to speak. Now, I would definitely qualify as a control freak – I generally prefer to be in the driver’s seat. But when it comes to seeds and seedlings, I’d much rather ride shotgun. It’s so much more relaxing. With self-sowers I never have to worry about timing. They come up when they come up. I don’t have to fret about their care because they’re fine on their own. And I can still take over the wheel by weeding out the ones I don’t want and carefully transplanting any that didn’t fall where they should have. What isn’t awesome about that?

Teasel seedlings are especially easy. Because they’re biennial, we have a whole summer to decide where we want them. We can leave their carpet as an excellent weed barrier, at least until the garden grows up around them, and then allow a select few to winter over wherever we think we might want next year’s towers. And we even have time now to move 2nd year seedlings if their placement isn’t just right. (Because of their tap root, we have to dig deep).

We’ve been doing that a lot with another biennial, forget-me-not (Myosotis sylvatica), and I have big plans for the extra love-in-mist (Nigella damascena) seedlings in the cutting garden. Pretty soon we’ll have self-sowers spread out in the garden enough that they’ll always come up where we want them. All we’ll have to do after that is remove the ones that are “too many”. Easy. (Or is that what some of us don’t like to do? It can be awfully heart-wrenching to compost a healthy plant…)

Speaking of carpets, I can’t let a Daffodil Days post go by without saying how beautiful they still are. Still peaking. And meanwhile the tulips are starting to open and the cherry trees are gorgeous. It keeps getting prettier and prettier. (And I’m not just saying that because I want you to visit.)

Do you find seedling carpets a little bit scary or are you thrilled to see plants come back gangbusters? Can you thin and edit the seedlings without cringing?

All of the advice you ever read about sowing seeds includes a suggestion to keep a record of what you’ve sown when. I’m pretty sure my head would explode if we didn’t keep track. We also try to record every good idea about the gardens before we forget them in separate books for each garden. In calendars we keep a daily record of the weather outside, what we’ve done all day and who has been in to help. Our calendars — and the blog — are invaluable for remembering whether last spring was the really rainy one or if it was 3 years back, and great for keeping us on track for pruning the roses and other seasonal must-do-nows. And I like to think of these things as an extension of Estelle Clements’ diligent, if sparsely worded, daily record of every happening at Blithewold while she was in residence with the family.

Over the last few years we have tried different methods for keeping track of our seed sowing. We used to simply write lists of what seeds were sown on a particular day, along with the seed source. One page (or two) per day. We could go back to previous years in the book to see what we sowed when but we didn’t keep track of germination timing, success rates and whether or not we liked the plants. Luckily Gail has a good memory for that stuff.

Last year we decided to try using Excel to keep track of all the plants in the garden, including seeds. I’m glad to have the data at my fingertips but it’s not easily accessible for everyone. So this year we’re going back to a book with some database inspired changes. Truth be told, I got the new template from our friend Pam (the self-described “propagating fool”) who got it from The Victory Garden.

In a grid notebook, we have lined out sections for plant, variety, source, quantity (I added that category), date seeded, date germinated, germination success, transplant date, planting out date, harvest date, and a wide space for comments. I know we’ll be good about writing down the date seeded because we’re already in the habit. As we get busier, it will be interesting to see if we’re able to make time to keep track of the rest of it. So far so good but then I’m always enthused to use a new tool at least until it doesn’t feel new anymore.

Do you write it all down? Have you ever used one of those 10 year calendars? — I think that might be next on my record-keeping wishlist. What’s on yours?