...but they're never hard to find, because they're always
hanging out on the prettiest flower in the garden.
Thanks, neighbor!
I have been slowly building a fortress of shrubs to block the view of my neighbor's front yard. Trapped in the sea of 30 year old junipers is an equally old rose that manages every year to peek through to our side of the hedge.
She's probably just finding the rich morning sun, but it sure seems like she's checking us out...
In the buff
Craigslister: Many Amaryllis bulbs (naked ladies) available. They are going in the dumpster next week.
After a few email exchanges, I found myself in a nondescript neighborhood in Sonoma getting filled on the details of a garden redesign from a lovely older man who was well into a full day working in the garden.
When he moved in 30 years ago, the garden had likely been the perfect (full sun) garden for naked ladies. The garden was now cool and shady, and the hundreds of clumps of bulbs were topped with thick heads of strappy foliage, green and happy in the shelter of the large trees. I was shown a rhododendron that he had just received as a gift, more discussion of changes to come in the garden followed, and he then directed me to back my car in to the garden. We packed the trunk with bulbs, the cool foliage taking up most of the available space. Seeing a few spots left, he asked if I wanted more.
"I don't want to take them all...surely you have other takers?"
"Oh, no, I have plenty. Let me dig you some more."
There were clumps of foliage and bulbs poking their heads out of the soil everywhere. He approached a clump and dug his shovel in deep. He was a small but sturdy man, and he worked around the edges gently as he chatted about his new garden. As I began to inquire about the new garden plans, he interrupted me.
"Shhhh......listen."
He put downward pressure on the shovel, and the bulbs, with their thick heads of foliage, jumped out of the ground with the familiar snap of roots breaking free from the damp soil.
"Aaaaahhhh, there it is...that wonderful sound."
Phree Phlox
A phriend at work divided hers two years ago and shared them with all of us at work. I have since divided mine again, and now have them in phour locations. They used to get really leggy and phlop over, but ever since I read about creative perennial pruning to encourage more compact plants and extended bloom time, my Phlox is better than ever.
Free Bird
I actually paid for this Verbascum (Verbascum chaixii 'Alba') about 4 years ago, but I never imagined it would speak to me from the garden. As I was watering my volunteer pumpkins, I saw these giant hands sticking up over my fence giving me the "highway salute".
Not enough water?
Not enough sun?
Too many newcomers of questionable provenance arriving in the garden lately?
I was left to wonder what exactly I had done to insult them so, but I'll probably never know for sure.
Not enough water?
Not enough sun?
Too many newcomers of questionable provenance arriving in the garden lately?
I was left to wonder what exactly I had done to insult them so, but I'll probably never know for sure.
Gateway Drug Revisited
Long a fan of white Agapanthus and a loather of the blue, "free" got the better of me...
Craigslister: I just dug up a bunch of Agapanthus plants (the small-leaved kind). They are beneath the "School Xing" sign on the corner. Take some or all, but please don't make a mess.
I took them all. I guess I do like the blue ones after all.
Craigslister: I just dug up a bunch of Agapanthus plants (the small-leaved kind). They are beneath the "School Xing" sign on the corner. Take some or all, but please don't make a mess.
I took them all. I guess I do like the blue ones after all.
Back Home
Craigslister: I am again overwhelmed by Shasta Daisies (tall ones this time) and have a few more raspberry plants poking their heads above the soil for any takers. Shovel provided.
A quadruple hybrid, Luther Burbank developed the Shasta daisy at his garden in Santa Rosa, California by cross-pollinating an oxeye daisy (Leucanthemum vulgare) and an English field daisy (Leucanthemum maximum), pollinating these hybrids with the Portuguese field daisy (Leucanthemum lacustre), and finally pollinating these seedlings with the Japanese field daisy (Nipponanthemum nipponicum).
Luther Burbank's while to spend 17 years hybridizing these flowers, I could surely spare 45 minutes of my time to save some of the offspring from the compost heap and bring them back a little closer to their ancestral home.
I missed out on an early spring offering from this same Craigslister, but lucked out in mid-summer, and spent my lunch hour one day in a small, wild garden jam-packed with Shasta Daisies, Scabiosas, Veronica, and cats.
Three (of many) Shasta Daisy plants were crowding the garden walkway and were slated for removal. The biggest of the three had dozens of tightly packed, three foot long stems running parallel to the ground, blossoms craning their necks to reach the sun. The victim of a horrible garden accident? A feeble attempt to deal with the lanky stems in preparation for removal? Nope. This was the result of a long and loving exercise in horticultural remodeling begun several months prior to my visit. Instead of standing tall like the others in the garden, this particular plant had itself taken the shape of an oversized blossom: seven feet across, horizontal stems radiating from the center, and a shallow central cup just over a foot across, the perfect size to cradle a cat dozing in the sun.
A quadruple hybrid, Luther Burbank developed the Shasta daisy at his garden in Santa Rosa, California by cross-pollinating an oxeye daisy (Leucanthemum vulgare) and an English field daisy (Leucanthemum maximum), pollinating these hybrids with the Portuguese field daisy (Leucanthemum lacustre), and finally pollinating these seedlings with the Japanese field daisy (Nipponanthemum nipponicum).
| As the Shasta Daisy originated just a few miles from my garden over 100 years ago, it seemed only right that I should have some on hand. It also seemed to me that if it was worth | |||
Three (of many) Shasta Daisy plants were crowding the garden walkway and were slated for removal. The biggest of the three had dozens of tightly packed, three foot long stems running parallel to the ground, blossoms craning their necks to reach the sun. The victim of a horrible garden accident? A feeble attempt to deal with the lanky stems in preparation for removal? Nope. This was the result of a long and loving exercise in horticultural remodeling begun several months prior to my visit. Instead of standing tall like the others in the garden, this particular plant had itself taken the shape of an oversized blossom: seven feet across, horizontal stems radiating from the center, and a shallow central cup just over a foot across, the perfect size to cradle a cat dozing in the sun.
Pro bono pumpkins
Many pumpkins at our house have met their maker as unwitting fodder for our backyard Halloween and Thanksgiving pumpkin tosses, as reluctant additions to the compost pile, or as jack-o-lanterns that simply decompose in place. Happily, the result has been a steady supply of volunteer pumpkin seedlings, often in places we least expect.
Nestled between re-homed Agapanthus and Aloe, this soon-to-be-pumpkin was 10 inches across, and looked more like a lazy starfish than a blossom on a volunteer vine.
Free(ba)bies
Now these baby katydids are everywhere, sometimes cruising around the garden in full view, but more often finding protection inside roses, lilies, squash blossoms, and lots of other picturesque places we probably don't even know about.Free at Last
OMFG: Are the landscaping plants still available? If so, I would love to take some and can come tomorrow (Thursday) before 3 pm. I understand the desire to keep the drip system intact. It's no fun repairing those - been there, done that.
About a dozen emails, two trips, and one yellow jacket nest later, I (along with a few other takers) had cleared this tract home's backyard of nearly all non-grass vegetation order to make way for concrete. The haul: ten Escallonia shrubs, four French lavender, three white landscape roses, two red landscape roses (since re-homed to a friend's house), two camellias, and one Agapanthus (white, of course).
No need to guess how big these plants were when they were put in the ground a year ago - their rootbound feet and the desperately long roots that stretched from the tops of their rootballs below the layer of mulch surrounding them tell of their year-long plight in their too-small prison cells of hard-packed clay soil. I imagine they're stretching their feet out in the loamy soil of their new home right now...
Aloe
Craigslister: Free Aloe plants bagged and on the curb. Come and get 'em.
The scene: 1960s rancher with a 3 x 20 foot strip of aloe in full bloom, and too many bags of cuttings to count.
The haul: five bags stuffed full of cuttings, their toothed leaves tearing the bags to bits.
Many of the succulents that Mom gave me turned to mush during the winter mornings here in zone 8B or 9A (depending on which neighborhood you go to). The cutting of this variety that she gave me a few years ago is still with me, but has been languishing. Perhaps it will be happier with its new friends?
The haul: five bags stuffed full of cuttings, their toothed leaves tearing the bags to bits.
Many of the succulents that Mom gave me turned to mush during the winter mornings here in zone 8B or 9A (depending on which neighborhood you go to). The cutting of this variety that she gave me a few years ago is still with me, but has been languishing. Perhaps it will be happier with its new friends?
Freeverfew
I believe the original had chartreuse foliage and reverted, but I've since forgotten.
Long lasting in the garden or in a vase? Blooms from spring through late Fall? Happy in sun or part shade? Beautiful white drifts of flowers with cheery yellow centers? Self-sowing, but polite when it does so? Say no more.
Feverfew (Tanacetum parthenium) can come and visit me anytime.
Camellias
Freecycler: We've got 4 lovely Camellia bushes that need a new home. I don't know how well
they transfer, but they are yours if you want to come and dig them up. We are going to a more drought tolerant yard, but it seems a waste to just cut these bushes down! I don't think excavation equipment is necessary, just a shovel should probably do....
they transfer, but they are yours if you want to come and dig them up. We are going to a more drought tolerant yard, but it seems a waste to just cut these bushes down! I don't think excavation equipment is necessary, just a shovel should probably do....
Coveting others' Camellias in the winter and forgetting how messy they are when you live with them, I was happy to find this week-old post that many others had passed by or flaked out on. Some people say "Blech...old lady plants". I say, "Free!" and "The blossoms look pretty floating in a bowl of water in the winter". These four stately ladies all had 3-4 inch diameter trunks and put up quite a fight. All five of us agreed excavation equipment would have been preferable to 2 hours, a shovel, and compromised root systems. Three of them are putting out new leaves. The fourth is leafless and required a hard pruning for it to be presentable in the garden. Not sure she'll make it, but I'll give her the benefit of the doubt until next spring.
Gateway Drug
My first taste of free plants via the internet...
Freecycler: These are rather well established white Agapanthus in clay dirt. You dig - you take - I am grateful :) I am putting in some bare root fruit vines and need the space soon. (If I'm going to water it, I want to eat it). I don't want to see my husband send them to the dump. Please rescue them...
OMFG: I would love to grab your Agapanthus if they are still available. Hate the blue ones, love the white ones. I couldn't do it until Tues, though.
Freecycler: Still got plenty of them. Give me a call before driving by. They will need to be dug up but the dirt is pretty wet right now.
45 minutes of digging in a downpour = 24 square feet of white Agapanthus bulbs.
Former neighbor and accomplished poet from our days in Berkeley: Hated it, like many Californians, for being "too common".
Lady exiting the Logan Airport florist cradling three cellophane-wrapped blue stems in the middle of a Boston winter: Obviously loved it.
Claude Monet: Admired the blue variety, especially for shade planting.
I'll side with the airport lady and Monet for now, although it may take me a while to come around to preferring the blue over the white.
Freecycler: These are rather well established white Agapanthus in clay dirt. You dig - you take - I am grateful :) I am putting in some bare root fruit vines and need the space soon. (If I'm going to water it, I want to eat it). I don't want to see my husband send them to the dump. Please rescue them...
OMFG: I would love to grab your Agapanthus if they are still available. Hate the blue ones, love the white ones. I couldn't do it until Tues, though.
Freecycler: Still got plenty of them. Give me a call before driving by. They will need to be dug up but the dirt is pretty wet right now.
45 minutes of digging in a downpour = 24 square feet of white Agapanthus bulbs.
Former neighbor and accomplished poet from our days in Berkeley: Hated it, like many Californians, for being "too common".
Lady exiting the Logan Airport florist cradling three cellophane-wrapped blue stems in the middle of a Boston winter: Obviously loved it.
Claude Monet: Admired the blue variety, especially for shade planting.
I'll side with the airport lady and Monet for now, although it may take me a while to come around to preferring the blue over the white.
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