Gifts for the Garden Traveler

Gardeners’ stockings are soon to be filled with Atlas gloves, trowels, sisal twine and bird netting, but those of us who also enjoy traveling to garden may have a few other items on our minds.

The garden traveler’s holiday wish list is a hybrid of sorts – somewhere between a normal tourist and a gardener.

A tour – Cough up the bucks and send your garden traveler (or yourself) on a specialty tour with like-minded people, who want to discuss the merits ofCrinodendron hookerianum and where it will grow. Our Ireland tour for 2010 may be just the ticket.

A digital camera – And not just any cheap or any expensive model. We take pictures outside and so we need more than a 2.5- or 3-inch LCD screen on the back of the camera: We need a viewfinder. Call it old-fashioned, but in bright daylight those screens are useless. Canon has some reasonably priced models that all include viewfinders; check out the SD780IS. Yes, we do need that image stabilizer – this isn’t a professional photographers tour, and we won’t wait around while you set up your fancy equipment. Anyway, many gardens have a “no tripod” rule, and so we must be our own tripods.

Something to write on – Garden travelers take notes. We may need to jot down the name of a plant or something funny that our local guide says (“The crowd will be heaving.”) And occasionally, we may need to write that down in middle of a light mist. So, a Rite-in-the-Rain notebook comes in handy. They come in all

Leighton's beer notebook

sizes and have yellow covers. Leighton has a small one that he uses as his beer notebook; you never know when a splash of a best bitter might land on an important comment. Rite-in-the-Rain also carries pencils for wet-weather use.

A raincoat, not an umbrella – See previous entry on my biases.

A travel purse – I’ve found mine, it’s a Baggalini. Wide strap to go over my shoulder, enough but not too many zipper pockets and loads of room even though it looks small. Waterproof for those less-than-perfect weather days.

Really good walking shoes – We are not hikers; or at least, this is not a hiking trip. Shoes are too personal to recommend, but I’ll tell you I love my new Clarks Unstructured. Take two pairs so that they can get a rest every other day.

Books about the gardens you want to see – Patrick Taylor’s book The Gardens of Britain and Ireland will give you a good overview. The Good Gardens Guide by Peter King usually comes out every year. Is there a particular place you want to read about? Ask me for a recommendation.

And, for those lovers of English ale, Leighton recommends The Good Beer Guide – which brews are the best and where to find them. To get the 2010 edition, you must go to the amazon UK site.

See you in the garden. Or the pub.

Neither Ice nor Heat: Top 10 Plants in My Garden 2009

In the garden pages of the Telegraph recently, Sarah Raven wrote about the plants in her garden that performed particularly well in 2009. What a brilliant idea, I thought. Here in Western Washington, we had terrible December (2008) and the severe, extreme and unusual cold continued well into January of this year. Then, instead of our rainfall tapering off slowly in April, May and June, the spigot was turned off for good at the beginning of May. Following close on the heels of early dry weather, we experienced extreme heat (103 degrees in Seattle – who would’ve thought?).

It was a strong one-two punch for our plants and gardens, so now, at the end of the year, I look back at what did particularly well in my garden. Here are the top performers – all well-established before the calamites began 12 months ago:

Courtesy of Great Plant Picks

Lonicera pileata – Does nothing harm this short, spreading evergreen honeysuckle with horiztonal branches and tiny glossy leaves? The flowers are unperfumed and unnoticeable, but I’ve grown to admire the purple berries that develop. Shade, sun, whatever.

 

 

Phillyrea angustifolia – What began as my “stick hedge” because of my tendency to buy tiny plants has turned into a lovely row of graceful evergreen foliage. One of my alltime favorite plants – don’t tell anyone that when I planted it almost seven years ago, I had to take a pickax to dig a hole in the soil.

Lithocarpus densiflorus var. echinoides – And anyway, it’s such fun to say the name when anyone asks. This natural variety of the Western native tall tanbark oak grows into a shrub about 5 feet high and produces fuzzy acorns. Takes not just heat and ice, but the slacker care I give the parking strip garden.

Quercus sadleriana – Sadler’s oak, a fine semi-evergreen Western shrub. My usual definition of “semi-evergreen” is “looks terrible in winter,” but this is the exception: the crisp, spoon-shaped leaves that stay on give the shrub a distinguished appearance.

Drimys lanceolata – Red petioles and glossy green leaves, always a tidy evergreen shrub. Well, OK, it did get some freeze burn on the leaves after the winter blast, but new growth came out, burned leaves fell off, and once again it is the delight of the shade garden walk (morning sun only).

Pittosporum tenuifolium – Anyone who knows me was waiting for this one. Here, I highlight two cultivars of the multi-talented evergreen shrub: ‘Gold Star’, a variegated cultivar with gold in the center of the leaf and ‘Elia Keightley’, a variegated cultivar with gold in the center of the leaf. Hmmm. The former gets morning sun and the latter all-day sun; both look good. And ‘Golf Ball’ continues to please with its slightly gray-green leaves and black stems. ‘Irene Paterson’ fabulous, goes without saying. Yes, that’s four, but I’ll give one back: I’ve killed two ‘Silver Sheen’ plants, and I don’t know why.

The list isn’t made up entirely of evergreen shrubs; here are a few miscellaneous doers:

Courtesy of Great Plant Picks

 

 

Geranium ‘Laurence Flatman’ – It will never grow up to be an enormous plant, but this diminutive perennial blooms throughout the summer with lovely lavender flowers that have dark veins running through them. I had it in a pot for two years, but now it’s at the top of the concrete retaining wall, the better to see you, my dear.

Parahebe catarractae – Slightly woody stems, sometimes keeps some of its foliage … let’s call this one a shrubby perennial. I thought it was a goner after the winter, but I cut it back anyway. Well into summer it began to leaf out, and it’s been in full bloom – little white flowers with a light lavender marking – for weeks now. Top of the retaining wall, sun.

Courtesy of Marty!

Rhododendron schlippenbachii – The royal azalea, planted in the shade garden. I swear I didn’t baby it, but did give it occasional summer water. Great flowers, wonderful fall color.

 

Clematis ‘Gravetye Beauty’ – I’ve waited for years for this selection of an America native to really take off. It’s a cultivar from the Texensis group, bred in France and introduced in England. That’s quite a trip. This year, it finally grew up into the neighbor’s snowball viburnum and bloomed for weeks in late summer. Cherry red, tulip-shaped flowers. Bring on that 103 degrees, it said.

I could go on, because loads more plants sailed through the troubles – Mahonia ‘Lionel Fortescue’, Sarcococca confusa, the variegated Italian buckthorn (Rhamnus alaternus ‘Argenteovariegata’. There are so many, I could write a book about them. What a great idea.

Dreaming of Damsons

It’s dark and rainy, but I’m dreaming of Damson jam from a little tea shop in Hawkshead in the Lake District. Maybe it’s on my mind even more, because some parts of England have had terrible flooding in the week. The Telegraph describes the destruction, much of which was centered near Cockermouth, just northwest of Hawkshead. Part of what was damaged was William Wordsworth’s childhood home, now part of the National Trust (the school he attended is in Hawkshead), as reported here.

The devestation looks terrible. Bridges are closed all over the area, including near Hawkshead. It’s difficult to think of such a beautiful area – one of our favorite places to visit – so damaged. All this is near Hill Top, Beatrix Potter’s home.

At the University Bookstore last week, I saw an endcap display of Beatrix Potter, which of course brought the Lake District to mind, too. The book, Beatrix Potter: At Home in the Lake District (Susan Denyer, Frances Lincoln, 2004), has wonderful photos of Hill Top and shows lots of Beatrix’s artwork. Hill Top is just up the road from us when we stay at Sawrey House Hotel, and so I can’t help but feel it’s in “our” neighborhood.” In one photo in the book, you can see the Tower Bank Arms, now a fine pub and B&B. We had a couple of pints there (Leighton says he drank Barnsgate Tag Lag and York Final Whistle, among other fine ales).

Let’s hope for a speedy recovery for all there. I look forward to a return trip.

Hidcote Manor – a great story

When you love a garden, you want to know everything about it. Not just about the garden itself, its plants, pathways and ornament, but also about the garden maker, his history, his inspiration, his life. Or hers.  If you love Dumbarton Oaks, then you want to know about Beatrix Farrand; if you love Barnsley House, then it’s Rosemary Verey (and just where is that biography?). For me, it’s Hidcote Manor Gardens and its maker Lawrence Johnston. And so I’m delighted to have been sent a review copy of Ethne Clarke’s new edition of her book first published in 1989.

Hidcote: The Making of a Garden (Revised Edition) Ethne Clarke; forward by Roy Strong. W.W. Norton, New York, 2009. 184 pages. $45

What moves us to create gardens? In the new edition of her book Hidcote: The Making of a Garden, Ethne Clarke explores the influences of family, friends and the atmosphere of early 20^th-century England on Lawrence Johnston that led him to create Hidcote Manor Gardens, one of the most influential landscapes of the 20^th century.

Americans Johnston and his mother, moved to the Cotwold village of Hidcote Bartrim in 1907, and Johnston (at first with his mother) began what he would not finish until 1948, the year he signed a deed of trust that handed over Hidcote to the National Trust—the first garden it acquired and which it still maintains today.

Information unearthed in the last few years led to Clarke’s new edition, which delves more deeply into Johnston’s life and times. It’s an enjoyable and fascinating read, sort of a gossipy tell-all but with actual facts and a good bit of garden design theory thrown in. Johnston brought together two warring schools of thought at the time—formal garden design versus the naturalistic approach. He used both, with a formal landscape near the house segueing into the wild further out.

Clarke traces the influence of Johnston’s family and friends, the effects of World War I and the social influences of the times had on him. The account, personable and fascinating, tells a lively story and brings Johnston and Hidcote, the first garden to be acquired by the National Trust, to life. We’ve taken two groups through Hidcote, and each time property manager Mike Beeston has told us great behind-the-scenes stories; my favorite was the rumor that Norah Lindsay’s daughter Nancy burned all of Johnston’s papers because she was so upset not to have inherited Hidcote. I’ve not seen that story anywhere else until I read Clarke’s book.

Johnston’s garden design, from the round bathing pool to the tapestry hedges to the Pillar Garden was borrowed again and again and we are fortunate to have the original as a standard as well as a continuing model.

Topiary times

We don’t have enough topiary in the U.S.—not that I’m about to start clipping, but I always admire the work of others when we visit gardens in England. My favorite was the row of yew elephants that head gardener Ed Cross created at Hazelbury, near the village of Box in Wiltshire. The row of mature yew grown into arches

elephants in Wiltshire

was already there, so Ed just couldn’t resist the temptation. The first time we saw them in 2004, he had just started and sent me a photo of his template. I took another picture during second visit two years ago, and you can see the beginning of the elephant form. Too bad the owners got wind of what he was doing and made him shear the elephants back into plain yew.

elephants appear

Of course, we all love the topiary at Hidcote and at Great Dixter.

Great Dixter

You know, come to think of it, I could get just a small yew in a pot and start clipping. What would it be—a chicken? A teapot? A sofa? We saw an entire living room set clipped out of boxwood at Iford Manor; our guide Stuart decided to take advantage of the opportunity.

Iford furniture

It may not be as easy as it sounds—Matthew Appleby at the Telegraph writes that gardeners are taking a new interest in the art, but his attempt at a simple shape met with mixed results.

Trains and trains and trains

Just back from Portland and the Farwest Show and, of course, we took the train. The Seattle-Portland trip on Amtrak Cascades is lovely and relaxing from the moment we step into the station.

Portland station's ceiling

Stepping into the Portland station is stepping back in time—motifs on the ceiling, marble arches and ceiling fans. In Seattle, King Street station is still undergoing renovation, as it has been doing for at least 15 years. When will it be finished? They’ve opened up an area of white marblelike walls that looks appropriately old, but the dropped acoustic ceiling still covers the original beauty. There’s one gap where you can see through all the way up, accompanied by a sign that shows you what’s to come. Some day.

In London, we love the organized chaos of stations such as Paddington—everyone is going in a different direction, and yet all movement seems choreographed. We stand in a crowd watching the letters and numbers flip by on the big board until our platform is announced, then off we go to find decent seats and wait for the tea trolley.

Smaller train stations around England provide charming anecdotes. In Taunton one year, a polished steam engine came puffing through. At the station in Cheltenham two summers ago, a Spitfire flew over us; it had just performed at Proms the night before at Sudeley Castle.

Not all train stations are as enjoyable.  Gare du Nord makes me nervous. How will I feel in Rome?

London squares, books and pubs

Around the corner from our favorite little hotel in London—the Harlingford Hotel in Cartwright Gardens—and along our short walk to Russell Square and its fabulously restored gardens—we walk along Queen Square.  The first time we did this we saw a plaque at 3 Queen Square for Faber and Faber. We are Book People, and as such we were thrilled to see one of the offices of such a venerable publisher.  Now, as reported in the Daily Telegraph, Faber and Faber celebrates its 80^th birthday.

The Telegraph’s article tells a wonderful story, not least of which is how the publishing company’s name came about.  Toby Clements reports that poet Walter de la Mare was the one who suggested that Geoffrey Faber add another Faber to the name.  “ … not because there was another Faber—there wasn’t—but because ‘you can’t have too much of a good thing.’ ”

In Queen Square is a statue of Queen Charlotte, wife of King George III; it’s a comfy place where loads of mothers and nannies take children to play.  Just on the corner is the Queen’s Larder, one of our favorite pubs, and where the Queen supposedly stayed while her husband was being treated by nearby doctors.  One summer day, we sat outside the pub with a pint and watched some Morris dancers who were practicing for a competition or show elsewhere.  You never know what you run into in London.

And Russell Square—it’s one of the best of the London squares.  When we arrive in London too early to check into the Harlingford, and we’re trying desperately to stay awake, we sit on a bench at the fountain and watch people.  The fountain is a recent addition to a square first designed by Humphry Repton in 1806.  The restoration of the gardens and installation of the fountain created a pleasant green space whether you’re walking through on the way to the British Museum or need to cool off in the fountain’s spray.

We’ll be back in the neighborhood—isn’t it odd how you can come to consider a holiday place home?—in October, and it’ll be interesting to see how London’s fall landscape.

The Garden Travel Packing List

There’s nothing like making a packing list to get you excited about a trip, and no doubt you’ve got several items that top your list each time you make it.  For garden travel, there are particular things we need, only remotely connected with the time of year we travel.

Because if it’s a garden tour, then you’ll probably be traveling mid- to late spring through mid-autumn (timing is seasonally adjusted according to your destination – you can leave Seattle on an autumn day and wind up in Auckland in the spring).

We aren’t hiking and this isn’t a camping trip – it’s a garden tour.  Maybe you are touring on your own – just you, your list of gardens, and maps or GPS device.  Perhaps you’ve planned the trip with a friend, and have spent ages going through your files of “Must see someday” to plan this once-in-a-lifetime event. It could be you are signing up for a well-chosen, small-group tour with like-minded folks (Ireland Gardens 2010 – details now online!)

First things first, especially when we’re off to Ireland, Scotland or England:  a raincoat.  Just to be on the safe side, of course.  This is something that I’m in the market for, so I’ve started a little research.  I like the ¾ raincoat from LL Bean ($139), because it’s meshed-lined;  like to do my own layering, and don’t want a heavy lining adding degrees when no degrees are needed.  “Two front pockets” the description says – but how big are they?  I need some room, so that my other essentials fit.

Travelsmith has a microfiber double-collar raincoat ($159) that the Wall Street Journal selected as “best overall raincoat” and is described as “totally waterproof.” I had a “totally waterproof” raincoat from Travelsmith, but it began to leak badly. I ended up just as wet inside as out, and that’s why I’m searching for a new raincoat, so you can see why I might be a little hesitant about this one.

Still, it has a detachable hood; I like that.  Umbrellas are totally useless on a garden tour – I use my hands to take notes and photos.  Online, Travelsmith doesn’t say anything about pockets with this raincoat.  How can that be?  It seems like most Travelsmith clothes have about 42 pockets, 38 of which you will forget about immediately, but usually several are large enough to stuff with important items.

This, of course, prompts the question: Just how many pockets do you need in a raincoat? Again, we’re not hiking the Pacific Trail here – not that there’s anything wrong with that.  What else is in those pockets, besides a few Kleenex, a camera, notepad and pencil, leftover package of biscuits from the tea tray in your hotel room?

Do you have a favorite raincoat for travel?

More garden travel essentials to come.

Day Trips for Gardeners

Summer is congested with tours – most of them sponsored by worthy local organizations who work hard and make some money for their causes by convincing local gardeners to open their gardens to hoards of people for (usually) one day.  What fun! – at lest for those of us doing the visiting.

Highlights for this coming weekend include the Woodinville Garden Club’s tour (Saturday, July 18^th), where for the price of a ticket ($15) you get not just gardens, but a wine tasting at the end of the day at Molbak’s.  How convenientthat you can also buy plants there.

The Federal Way Symphony tour, also on Saturday and also $15, shows off some lovely suburban gardens. The West Seattle tour on Sunday (July 19^th), also $15, almost always includes some fine water-view gardens.

A bit pricier at $75 each – but going to a worthy cause – is the Mediterranean Garden Tour in Edmonds on Saturday (18^th).  The proceeds go to the Hunger Intervention Program; you’ll get food and wine, plus a close-up look at the winner of the Pacific Northwest garden contest.

You’ll find loads more tours listed at the Miller Library’s Web site.

Kubota Gardens

Not up for a one-day tour?  Then head to one of Seattle’s fine gardens that are also city parks:  the Japanese Garden and Kubota Gardens.  You’ll be able to enjoy a quiet stroll and fabulous landscapes.  No food allowed in the Japanese Garden, but you can take your picnic to Kubota

Trevor Kincaid would be proud

The garden group – Jane, Dorothy, Jutta and I – made the trip to Lewis County yesterday to celebrate Lupine Field Day at Mallonee Farms, an organic dairy (part of the Organic Valley co-op) where the farming practices of the Mallonee family create the right environment for the endangered Kincaid’s lupine

John, Maynard, Mary Mallonee

 

 

 (Lupinus sulphureus var. kincaidii) to thrive.  Thanks to Mary and John Mallonee, and their son Maynard, who care about the land and their family and know that organic practices make a healthier world.

 

Joe Arnett, state botanist with the Washington Heritage Conservation Program, talked to the group gathered at the Baw Faw Grange in Curtis about endangered plants and conservation, noting that usually the location of conservation sites were kept quiet, but that the Mallonees wanted the world to know that rare plants, people and cows can live in harmony (also growing in the pasture – the pale larkspur, Delphinium leucophaem, and the thinleaf peavine, Lathyrus holochlorus).

Joe Arnett checks Hitchcock for lupine ID.

 

 

We also celebrated the family connection:  Dorothy is the daughter of Trevor Kincaid, for whom the lupine is named.  Two of Dorothy’s sisters, Polly and Kathleen, and their family attended the festivities, and everyone hiked well into the field to view the lupines, which were just finishing flowering (and then got soaked as a shower of rain arrived).  Trevor Kincaid, University of Washington entomologist and self-proclaimed “omnologist” (a word he coined, meaning he was interested in everything), would’ve enjoyed the day.

Dorothy with lupine.