Seminars, vendors and informal demonstrations are all part of Molbak’s Spring Celebration Weekend, April 10 and 11.  At 10-11 am Saturday  I’ll present Voluptuous Vignettes: The Art of Perennial Plant Combinations focusing on creating expressive, artistic and culturally compatible plant combinations.

From 1-2 Willi Evans Galloway, west coast editor of Organic Gardening Magazine discusses Gardening Gifts: Family, Friends and Community.  She’ll share ideas for creating inspired gifts from the garden, gardening activities for children and ideas for community- building projects.

Lorene Edwards Forkner speaks from 11-12 on Sunday offering 10 Tips for a Delicious and Productive Veggie Garden.  Her years of experience as a food enthusiast, gardener and writer come to the fore as she discusses which home- grown vegetables are the most easily canned and preserved.

How to Create a Healing Herb Garden is the subject of Jenny Perez’s presentation from 1-2.  She is adjunct faculty in the Botanical Medical Department at Bastyr University where she is also the garden manager.  She discusses new medicinal plants and ways to use familiar herbs for great therapeutic benefit.

Fred, my long suffering partner and AV specialist, can handle only so much nursery time.  If the weather relents I expect to see his golf clubs in the car when we load up.  He is busy researching golf courses near the nursery –something for everyone is our motto.

Building one in our garden was a no-brainer.  We live in a Victorian house and have a shady, dark corner that is my gardening nemesis as nothing thrives in that area.  Stumperies are considered a Victorian oddity so it made perfect sense for us to build one in our crazy garden.

Throughout the morning we rolled logs into place, pushing them this way and that looking for the perfect arrangement. Mud flew as Richie and Fred dug holes and regraded the area so that the wood could be placed in natural looking configurations.  They used a pry bar to leverage the large logs into place–it’s all about the fulcrum.   We carved out the tops of several logs that sit upright creating planting pockets. A large rhodie slatted for demolition in our garden redo received a reprieve and is now planted behind the stumpery creating scale and context.

A stumpery in the making.

Now it’s time for me to have fun with plants.  The Hardy Plant Society of Oregon Plant Sale is next weekend.  I’ll be there early, list in hand, singing my springtime plant sale shopping song.  The advent of an irrigation system with drip emitters raises the odds that this corner can actually sustain plant life.

Tired, wet, cold and muddy we stood back at the end of the day marveling that a pile of logs and stumps morphed into a beautiful stucture in an area that for years was a horticultural wasteland.  Since the space is small think that it is more appropriate to call our new feature a stumpette.

Richie is a fernophile with a artistic eye for creating stump based configurations based on his years observing nature.

As a long time show goer I was surprised by an encounter with a proprietary and snippy vendor  who only shared info about her product with folks willing to commission her to create an artwork.  Never before have I encountered any one at a show, garden tour or event that wasn’t willing to share what they were doing and why.  I wanted to stomp on her posies and chastise her for being an unnatural  and churlish gardener.

Two of the more decorated (meaning those with the most medals) display gardens were conceptual and very esoteric.  Both gardens were apocalyptic in nature–revealing a vision of native plants reclaiming the site in the absence of human kind.  Gardens by definition are a human construct and for me are part of the social fabric of our culture.  Interesting and provocative ideas.  The most arresting garden visually was a room sized cube sided in succulents.  The structure seemingly floated over a shallow pond.

Succulent cube at the San Francisco Flower Show

Thursday was spent photographing gardens in Palo Alto followed by a marvelous dinner at an Italian restaurant in Half Moon Bay.  Home again, home again on Friday.

Removing the bricks

Started digging and transplanting snowdrops this week.  A large colony is located right in the way of one of the new pathways.  The plump noses of oriental lilies are breaching the soil in the same area and need to be moved asap.  I’ll have help moving a huge  Hydrangea ‘Ayesha’.  Cutting it back to facilitate its trip across the garden means that it won’t bloom this summer but will live to flower again next year.

The rendering of the design for the back garden shows the location of the new terrace and walkways.   The paths are wider and more graphic repeating the lines in the front entry and lawn shape which is staying the same.   Fred is working on a plan for an over-the-top Victorian structure complete with roof to be situated along the fence line at the back of the new terrace.  Today we wandered around Woodcrafters, a haven for anyone who is a woodworker, looking for turned posts and period molding.  Can’t wait for him to begin building.

Space plan for the renovated back garden

The presence of 25 Cracked Pots vendors created a buzz.  The aisle dedicated to this not-for-profit group of artists who create art for home and garden from recycled and re-purposed materials was jammed with shoppers and looky-loos.  Objects fashioned of metal, from large, dramatic pieces to smaller fanciful bouquets of steel flowers attracted attention.  Garden divas Linda Beutler and Nancy Goldman succumbed to temptation purchasing birdhouses crafted from recycled wooded and decorated with a whimsical  and sometimes nonsensical objects.  I looked for colorful art pieces that might work in what will be my newly renovated back garden.  Clear dishes painted in a eye-catching colors affixed to rebar stakes caught my attention.

The Remarkable Green Market vendors stocked a tempting array of plants.  Xera Plants and Cistus Nursery beckoned with a selection of drought tolerant shrubs and perennials perfect for filling the holes in my gravel and wall gardens.  Burl Mostul, proprietor of Rare Plant Research, offered a number species and hybrid Eucomis otherwise known as pineapple lilies.  The bulbs were huge–I bought a number of them from him at least years show –each producing several bloom stalks the first year.

Seminar speakers captivated audiences with their expertise, practical advice and humor.  Dan Hinkley, sponsored by Monrovia, highlighted his favorite trees, shrubs,vines and perennials for year-round interest as well as presenting a lecture chronicling the development of Windcliff–his new garden situated on a  sunny, wind swept bluff high above the sound–the antithesis of Heronswood–a garden carved out of a woodland understory. Dulcy Mahar, Barbara Blossom and Robb Rosser provided poignant, joyful and hysterical insights into their gardening careers via a discussion of their worst garden bloopers–imagine Robb bleating like a goat.  What a treat! Vegetable gardeners, from novice to accomplished, garnered advice from the experts.  Bill Thorness shared insights into growing heirloom veggies while Rose Marie Nichols McGee illustrated techniques for growing food in containers.  Richie Steffen, curator for the Elisabeth C. Miller Botanic Garden in Seattle amazed his audience as he created a fern table–a wondrous composition of ferns, wood and moss.

Fabulous fern table created by Richie Steffen in his demonstration workshop at YGP Show.

Sean Hogan and the crew from Cistus Design Nursery created a stunning display garden featuring many of Sean’s favorite evergreens–plants that breeze through our wet winters and thrive in our dry summers.  Silver and gray foliage predominated providing a foil for bronze grasses.  Show stalwart, Eammon Hughes of  Hughes Water Gardens, designed a beautiful pond with an elegant planting of red twig dogwoods–simple and elegant.

I love the garden shows–for me they are a way to connect with other gardeners, writers, lecturers and passionate plantsmen and women that I might not see all that regularly. We are all members of the same horticulture tribe–and we were out in full force–from the young, neophyte veggie gardener to the wise and witty Roger Swain who for years hosted The Victory Garden.  A group of stellar speakers headlined the seminars from Fergus Garrett, head gardener at  Englands’ Great Dixter to well known Oregon nursery owners Roger Gossler, of Gossler Farms Nursery in Springfield and Maurice Horn from Joy Creek Nursery in Scappoose.  My lectures were packed with folks excited about the prospect of getting their hands back in the dirt. We are ready for the renewal of spring and anxious to leave the stress and trials of the last year behind.

The show floor hummed as shoppers checked out new products, purchased plants and wandered through the display gardens.  The display gardens, a dichotomy of fantasy and reality, were fun–filled with ideas for home gardeners.  Sustainability and ecological design prevailed in several displays.  My fave featured an urban farmette with raised beds, a chicken tractor, rain barrels, composting, repurposed building materials and goats.  Yes, goats–their antics, including standing on the roof of a small shed–delighted and entertained.

Goat surveying her domain.

This Friday is opening day for the Yard, Garden and Patio Show–Portland’s own garden show.  It runs from Friday, Feb. 12 through Sunday, Feb. 14 at the Oregon Convention Center.  Expect great gardens, vendors and seminars.  The planning committee is excited about showcasing the best of gardening and horticulture in our region.

Dan Hinkley, world renowned horticulturalist and plant explorer, is headlining the seminar series, speaking on Friday and Saturday.  The three day schedule of lectures and demonstrations covers all aspects of gardening from pruning to seed starting, design and decor, new plants and heirloom vegetables.  Each day offers a range of experts sharing their insights and information.  Join us as Kym Pokorny, garden writer for the Oregonian and dean of the airwaves Mike Darcy discuss their favorite plants–think debate.  An esteemed panel of writers and gardeners, Dulcy Mahar, columnist for the Oregonian, Barbara Blossom of the Tribune and Rob Rosser who writes for the Columbian, bare it all sharing their worst garden bloopers.

Cracked Pots, the non-profit group of artists who create home and garden accessories out of recyled materials, is going to have a large presence at the show with 25 artists in attendance.  What could be more fun than shopping for garden art.  Visit the Remarkable Green Market where many of the regions best specialty nurseries will be selling their wares.   This is an event not to be missed.

Before we can fully embrace the excitement, thrill and trepidation that are part of any project we must say farewell to the arbor on the north side of the lawn.  Lo, those many years ago, Fred designed and constructed this structure that has been the hallmark and focal point for the garden.  It has borne witness to events of all sorts–those that elicit joy and great sadness. Many blushing brides and their grooms have said their vows under the comforting canopy of  this stalwart and decorative Victorian arch.  In 2008 our daughter, Melissa and her love, Rich, were married in the company of family and friends in the garden.   She is now in the process of cutting down the two large Rosa ‘New Dawn’ who willing draped themselves over the arbor for many summers.  Melissa reminded me that I needed to go outside and take pics of the rose coming down.  We feel sad that we are losing this elegant part of the garden but Fred is planning his next building project–not replacement but a new structure for a new garden.

On the north end of the garden Hamamelis ‘Arnold Promise’ wreathed in gold is holding court watching the rest of the garden proceedings with a jaundiced eye.  She knows that she is the queen of the garden in her colorful garb exuding the her heavenly citrus infused scent.  Her perfection moves us forward.

Off to the NW Flower and Garden Show–can’t wait to see old friends and make new acquaintances.  I’ll report in this weekend.

The universe has other projects for me  this year that  preclude spending as much time on my usual winter pleasures. January is ushering in a new era in the garden.  Cleaning up the debris from the aftermath of the cherry tree and rose debacle has consumed much of our leisure time–do people really enjoy leisure time? The rose canes  are part of a mountain of material composting at the yard recycling dump and stacks of wood are on their way to a relative in Hood River who has a wood stove. Much raking to do to liberate emerging hellebores and other precious spring ephemerals from their uninvited mulch of small twiggy stuff.

Now the fun begins.  A base map of the area beckons me to begin rethinking and redesigning the garden.  Tissue paper overlays each with a different idea litter the drafting table.  The vision becomes clearer and more refined with each pencil stroke.  Envisioning  a small gravel terrace in the midst of the border, bracketed with low hedging, new pathways and a Victorian/Gothic/Craftsman structure with a pitched roof.  Fred, the builder boy, is gathering ideas for his Vico-craft building project.  (Vico-craft denoting that one of our buildings is Victorian in style and the other is Craftsman).  Can’t wait to finish the design and start building. Stay tuned.

Large tree down--what comes next? From shade to sun.

Mother Nature always has the last laugh.  Thirty years ago, not knowing what we were doing, we planted two fruiting cherry trees on the west side of our new garden.  Big mistake–nothing but grief for  years.  After the first few years the fruit was impossible to harvest–hung too high in the tree.  We did enjoy the antics of the squirrels as they went about picking their fill but were annoyed that they were enjoying the fruit of our labors.

Fruiting cherries, in my experience, are disease sluts.  The trees were devastated by a series of diseases and insects.  Conks, fan-shaped, mushroom looking things, known as shelf or bracket fungi appeared.  Bacterial cankers oozed an amber colored, sticky, viscose liquid.  Branches died back.  We willingly sacrificed the tree closest to the front porch for a new front entry and terrace.

Lots of debris--some for compost some for the dump.

My own actions were part of the problem for tree number two.  I planted three rambling roses at the base of the tree hoping that they would conceal the view of the three story building next door which looms over garden–talk about no privacy for us or them.  Eventually the roses reached thirty feet providing screening and a sense of enclosure for all.  We pruned them every third year–a task requiring many ladders and a suit of full body armor.  Fred, my spousal unit, hated scaling the ladders to wrestle with whippy, thorny canes. Surely the twiggy thicket reduced air circulation in that area. We employed Integrated Pest Management techniques spraying with the least toxic and harmful products possible–to no avail.  Two years ago we removed one third of the tree.

Family and friends to the rescue--firewood and wood for an artist to turn.

Last week, the tree quietly succumbed–with a barely perceptible gasp–as it descended to terra firma surprising us with the ease of its demise.  My shade garden  took a direct hit–beautiful Aralia elata ‘Variegata’ smashed along with a Disanthus cercidiphyllum and a Daphne x houtteana.  The perennials were trampled by the boots of the friends and family who came with chainsaws to dissect the remains.  They will recover in time.

After moment of mourning my brain is filled with ideas.  The ravished space is adjacent to the north borders which are due for a total revamp this spring–it has been a long time since I had a big space to re-design.  I see a small terrace with a rill–or not –depending on finances and lots of new plants.

A picotee double hellebore (Helleborus x hybridus)

It’s here — the day my website goes online and I attempt to write my first blog.  Very daunting for someone who isn’t very technologically adept.  One of my goals for the year is to learn more about technology, how it works and what works for me.  Can’t imagine that I’ll ever Twitter and haven’t ever seen Facebook — seems like a lot to explore.

Blogging makes sense to me though.  As a writer I think I’ll relish being able to write about what I want — when I want — snippets and bits about my passion for all things horticultural — anytime the muse or a random thought strikes. Don’t yet know the form or direction of the blog.  Time will tell.

Am impatient for spring — after a winter of varied and weird weather, a country in turmoil and a world where the senseless seems to prevail — I yearn for the comfort of rebirth in the garden.  It never fails to nurture, encourage and enlighten.

Emerging snowdrops (Galanthus plicatus)

The emergence of snowdrops helps banish the winter vapors.  Am amazed by the might of these petite offerings as they explode from the soil — bulldozing their way to the surface, flowers at the ready.  Hope survives.

The radiance of a stray sunbeam warms the lemon-yellow bundled blooms on the witch hazel in the back garden releasing its pungent cistrus scent — I inhale and exhale lungs filled with euphoria — it is coming. 

Hellebores ease the tension as I walk the wall garden greeting chalices face to face — a pink double, sepals rimmed in a picotee of  fuschia, a single white with brushstrokes of merlot, green edged in burgundy and butter-yellow splashed with aubergine freckles.  Heartened my footfall sings a refrain of hope.

Edgeworthia chrysantha, Chinese paperbush, is slow to flower this year — buds burgeoning and straining to open — restrained by effects of snow and ice.  Can’t wait for this daphne relative to burst in flower and fragrance.  Must be patient.  Another lesson. Soon.

An unlikely clump of ratty, snow damaged evergreen foliage offers a prize — the lavender-blue blooms of Iris unguicularis (syn. Iris stylosa).  Head bent I drop to my creaky knees on the sidewalk getting close enough to breathe in the delicious scent exuded by this north African treasure dwelling in the gravel garden.  Reward. 

An ornamental cherry tree (big mistake all those years ago) planted in a parkway bed created the most inhospitable environment in the garden — inundated by waves of roots cresting the soil — dry as a bone.  Minor bulbs to the rescue.  Clumps of Cyclamen coum, selected for leaf color and pattern, wave their nodding, magenta flowers above sheets of heart-shaped green and silver leaves.  Cultivars of Iris reticulata in shades of purple and blue stand sentry near clusters of winter aconite, Eranthis hyemalis, breaching the gravel mulch with lobed collars of green topped by blooms ressembling buttercups.  The denizens of my version of garden hell herald a shift in seasons and outlook.  Hope springs eternal in the garden.

Next week is the beginning of the official gardening season with the Northwest Garden Show in Seattle.  Am off to the Emerald City to commune with my garden people.  More about that later.  Going with mixed feelings as this may be the last year for both the Seattle and San Francisco garden shows.