Author Archives: Unwit
This picture demonstrates a prime reason you need to plant own-root roses: the blooms you see are NOT blooms of the Peace rose. They’re the blooms of its rootstock, Dr. Huey. The top of the grafted plant was most likely … Continue reading
And why change something that works 24/7/365, in all kinds of weather? The gardeners of Austin rely on Mutabilis, another single China rose, to look good with minimal care. Here is a dense six-foot hedge of it, blooming enthusiastically, January … Continue reading
The plant is a dense tangle of petite twigs. The blossoms are fire-engine red with some streaks of white. I associate these characteristics with China rose heritage. There was no detectable scent, and the abundant blue-green foliage is very tiny, … Continue reading
Down in Zone 8, in January, everything is brighter, milder, and cheerier. Yesterday, after some pretty deep midwinter malaise, to the level of existential crisis, the clouds cleared and the sun came through just as it was about to set. … Continue reading
You know you’ve REALLY succeeded as a gardener when you receive a citation that you’re violating local code ordinances. I’m not kidding. Think about it: Being cited for your plants’ thriving SO well that they’re enthusiastically spilling their abundance of … Continue reading
I’m in the process of adopting a dog. He’s incredibly sweet and loves affection. He’s my personal trainer, getting me to walk farther and more often. He’s a goofball antidepressant and a good boy. Clyde came from Brooke Haven Bullies … Continue reading
I find the “mid-century modern” aesthetic fairly vile; however, this concrete planter I’m using to keep the garden hose from trashing the ferns called for something striking, sculptural, weird. I found it yesterday: a Kniphofia, I believe, perennial known as … Continue reading
The saying “sub rosa” meaning “in secret” is thought to have originated in descriptions of pagan rites carried out in places especially sacred to The Goddess: obviously, under trees where roses grew. I guess I should invite all the pagans I know to … Continue reading
Tobey doesn’t actually work in the yard except to murder the odd shrew. She has more of a supervisory role. Her taste is impeccable.
Sitting out here watching the light come through the leaves. As the sun comes over the trees across the street, it lights up different details, different plants.