I was chatting with a landscape architect friend – you know, the ones who do lots of hardscape and make beaucoup bucks? He was complaining about his (rich) clients. Apparently they want perfection at all times. Echinaceas past their peak just won’t do. And roses can’t be the terrific new shrub roses; they have to be hybrid teas so they’ll produce good cut flowers. And they don’t notice much in the garden — except the imperfections. He said the garden is like a stage setting to them. Almost makes me feel sorry for rich people. Which makes me wildly appreciative of my coachees — that’s the word I prefer to "client." They’re aspiring do-it-yourselfers either because A, they can’t afford to have everything done for them, or B, they think they just might enjoy it– working with nature, having a creative outlet, getting exercise, etc. So they’re motivated and willing to work and they’ll get there – there being a garden that’s a big improvement over what they started with and that they’ll have created themselves, with the dirty fingernails to prove it. I’m grateful for the opportunity to guide them down that wonderful path.
This photo has nothing to do with the text but hey, the elephant ears are looking gorgeous and they won’t last much longer, so let’s enjoy ‘em.
I’m telling you right up front that I killed this plant, and it could have been avoided. If only I’d listened to the advice I give people all the time. THE FACTS: I bought three rhododendrons in June and two of them diedly, suddenly like rhodos do, with no helpful warning signs like wilting. That’s a 33 and a third percent survival rate. And here’s the point: I was home every day. I thought I was taking good care of them. I was in my garden probably 13 days out of every fortnight (I have English readers now and I want them to feel included.) I’m not saying my care was perfect, but it demonstrates it has to be perfect if the damn things have a chance of surviving their first summer.
I probably never would have gone public with this but yesterday I wrote about Paul James, about how he gives the exact same advice that I’d so recently ignored, and I just had to come clean with it. And now that I’ve gotten it off my chest I feel I can learn from my mistakes and look to the future, a future of planting in the fall if possible, early spring when necessary. I feel better already.
Stoneyards are noplace for sissies. It’s all frontloaders and dump trucks and huge piles of rocks and stone dust. They’re dirty and dangerous. Nothing has a price on it. There are no recognizable salespeople. So how does a do-it-yourselfer ever get stone for their garden? They put on their heavy-toed shoes and long pants, grab their heavy gloves, and kiss their family goodbye as they leave the house.
Kidding! No, it’s really do-able, and I’m here to ease the pain. These photos are from Jack Irwin’s stone yard on East Gude Drive in Rockville. As intimidating as it is, it’s actually the best of the bunch, at least the bunch of three stoneyards that I’ve sampled, so listen up.
First, I suggest going when they’re not too busy, like weekday afternoons. Their only weekend hours are Saturday morning and that’s a busy time, so this might be a good time to call in sick at work. When you arrive park, go inside and ask if there’s anyone to show you what piles you should be looking at and what the prices are. Then get back in your car and drive onto the scale that’s next to the building – yeah, you’re a trucker now, dude. They weigh your car going in, then again going out, and calculate what you owe.
I’ve actually had very friendly and patient sales help at Irwin’s, even when I was buying a little of this and that. He took me all over the lot and gave me lots of direction about what stones would work on what projects, helped me load it all into my car and sorted it out for me at the scales. 
So yes, stoneyards can be ugly and noisy, but the displays out front remind us of how gorgeous the results can be. Stone really does make the garden. (If you’re rudely keeping track of my proclamations you’ll remember that last week I said conifers make the garden. And next week I may say it’s hanging baskets — but don’t bet on it.) Bottom line – plants look better when combined with stone.
So get up your courage, grab a friend who owes you big-time, and take the plunge.
I hope you all get basic cable because the Home and Garden Television Channel (HGTV) is not only where I get most of my gardening ideas but it’s how I survive the loooong winter (even in relatively balmy Zone 7 it’s too damn long for me). So let me introduce the folksiest, goofiest, most knowledgeable gardening guy you’ll ever see on TV – the host of "Gardening by the Yard," Paul James. Ain’t he cute? Plays the guitar, too. Probably had a ponytail and played in a rock band. Overall, my kind of guy, but I digress.
Now be forewarned that Paul may take some getting used to. He and his crew are pretty goofy – no, make that silly in the extreme – but that’s just him not taking himself too seriously. What you get with the silliness is knowledge of gardening techniques that are almost always organic and that work with the land and elements, not against them. He encourages people to just accept a little insect damage, to not plant or transplant in the middle of the summer, and loads of other seriously practical lessons for gardening. He turned me on to conifers. He turned me on to one of my favorite gardening writers, Ann Lovejoy of Bainbridge Island, Washington. And he just keeps turning me on to gardening.
Where I live his show is on Saturday and Sunday mornings, as part of a line-up of solid gardening shows from 10 to 1. Of course I’m not going to spend my weekend mornings in front of the TV watching gardening, so I tape shows for my viewing enjoyment throughout the week, usually while I’m exercising. And because I don’t like programming the timer any more than you do, I just pop in a tape sometime before 10 and press "record," which even my most electronically challenged friends (you know who you are) can do, I think.
Today w
as a big day today at my favorite nursery, what with their Tomato Taste-off and an open air market where I spent a horrifying amount of money on some gorgeous, dramatic jewelry (you can tell I’m still trying to convince myself I wasn’t a bad girl.)
But we’re mostly about gardening here, so I’ll move on to Topic A – TOMATOES! Who knew they could taste so different? (Local garden clubbers will notice Alice Fransden busily chopping up tomatoes — she’s been president of the Silver Spring club for 14 years now. Did you know she spent her career as a women’s rights advocate in D.C.? Yeah, she’s cool.)
In the plant arena (and this is a huge nursery, after all) I discovered a wheel barrow-filled planting of all sedums that’s to-die-for. Check out the variety of colors in the close-up. I’ve become a bit of a sedum collector myself because they’re the absolute best for pots in the sun! Since my deck has no water source nearby and hauling water is a total pain, these drought-tolerant sweethearts really hit the spot. I’ll be snapping and posting to you when mine bloom soon. It’ll give me an excuse to show off the homemade hypertufa planters they’re in. Hypertufa’s great for those of us stuck in the mud-pie stage in Freud’s developmental analysis. (Did I get that right? My last psych course was a while back – like 1970.)
Let me introduce you to Washington Gardener Magazine and its editor, Kathy Jentz. Here at Takoma Hort Club we’re mighty proud of our little Kathy. We knew her when she was an unknown, toiling to transform her prominent corner lot near here and putting nice energy into the club. So we made her vice president, which we thought was kind of a big deal. Suddenly she’s quitting her day job in publishing at an association to create a regional gardening mag. Then along comes this gorgeous thing in our mailboxes. Good local writers have discovered her and it’s just getting better. Now she’s also writing a gardening column in the Saturday edition of the Washington Examiner Newspaper.
I think this moment calls for a hearty YOU GO, GIRL.
Oh, I almost forgot this: www.washingtongardener.com.
