Annual Review

When I was new on the gardening scene, all bright eyes and unchecked eagerness, you couldn't have paid me to grow annuals. (Well, ok, you could have. A girl's gotta eat.) Buy an uninspired flat of marigolds, work them into the ground, tend to them for months, and then they DIE? Not a chance. After all, I am a Serious Gardener. And Serious Gardeners can't be seen scurrying about with arms full of silly petunias. No! We growers with a more sophisticated palate only have room for the cosmopolitans- delphiniums, roses (obviously), really anything that needs staking, or spraying, or wrapping with burlap for the winter. Of course, bonus points for plants not readily available at your local nursery. And if it isn't hardy to your zone, even better! Salvia jurscii? I'll take two.

Admittedly, I am still drawn to plants that require some extra effort. There is something intriguing and sort of luxurious about flowers that are a bit harder to please- exotic, old-fashioned, richly fragrant. But when it comes to annuals, I have seen the error of my ways and am here to let you in on a little secret- these plants make you look like a pro. Unlike perennials, that generally have a relatively short season of bloom, many annuals will flower pretty continuously from spring right on through to autumn frost. In late summer when your perennials look limp and faded, annuals are showy crowd pleasers that are fantastic at adding pops of color to bare spots or difficult areas. Since annuals complete their life cycle in one growing season- meaning you plant a seed, it grows, flowers, and dies that same year- this is really their one shot at glory, and they mean to make the most of it. And aside from watering and a little deadheading, (both of which are negotiable- there, I said it), they are fairly low maintenance. Have I mentioned the cost yet? Because annuals are cheap. Especially if you grow them from seed. Spend a couple dollars on a seed packet and you can have swaths of blooms all summer long.

Scroll down for some of my favorites. (From top to bottom: geraniums, caladium, dahlias, and petunias.)

The climbing rose has stopped blooming, but those geraniums keep things looking pretty.

Caladiums- brightening up shady spots!

Dahlias

Petunias doing their thing.

In Like a Lion

I can't lie to you, Internet. I love winter. I love the thick nubby sweaters, the warm drinks, the cozy evenings indoors, the whole nine snowy yards. I do. Now, wait! Before you reach for your push pins and voodoo dolls, I should probably mention that while I do love this season, right now I, like most everyone else, couldn't be happier to see it go. I can't resist the transition from summer to fall, when the days start to get shorter and the air crisper, but it's warm enough to leave the windows open in the late afternoon and long evening walks are still a nightly ritual. Winter into spring, however, is a transition that really, only its mother could love. Yesterday I thrilled to the sight of the first shoots of tulips coming up right beside the front steps. Today those little red and green tips are covered in snow again. If you're in the Midwest, like me, you know that last night (and this morning) confirmed that despite our recent streak of warm(ish) days, winter is not down for the count yet. And when the snow started to fall around midnight, (yes, I stayed up to catch a glimpse- I'm not made of stone) I just couldn't muster up the usual excitement. I am weary of zipping into puffy coats and walking on tiptoes to avoid icy patches. I'm tired of boots, I'm out of salt, and my shovel looks like it moonlights as an obstacle at a monster truck show. I've been forcing branches and starting seeds, (more to come here on seed starting!), but for a home gardener, the month of March is marked by an awful lot of waiting. So! In the spirit of spring, and in a nod to Wordless Wednesday, (I know, I don't quite have the 'wordless' thing down), I thought I would share some garden shots from sunnier days, as a reminder (to both of us) that something lovely really is just up ahead.

*All of these images were taken last year at Cantigny Park.

Forcing Spring

Hello Internet! Did you miss me? No? Since it's a pretty good bet that if you're reading this, we are also related, (Hi Dad), and see each other on an almost daily basis, I won't take the silence personally. What I will do, in the fine tradition of elementary school children everywhere struggling at the start of term to summarily dignify how they spent their summer vacation in 500-word essay form, is...well, forget a lot of things. The cranberries, the tree-trimming, the gift-giving, the party dresses, the wrap and ribbons, the snowshoeing, the hot cocoas by the fire, the cozy brunches, the cable-knit sweaters, the twinkling lights...they're all starting to fade into the background. In a few more weeks it will be spring, and even as the temperature drops and a bitter wind is howling outside and stripping branches from the maple tree out front, (and I mean that literally, that is really happening right now), I'm inside planning and plotting and, of course, pinning things to do with pansies, and lilacs, and rosebushes just as soon as the weather will let me. Until that happens, forcing branches is an easy way to bring a bit of spring color indoors.

I actually tried out a number of puns and phrases involving the word "force" for the title of this post. Most (all) sounded creepy and took a blog about cooking and gardening to a weird place pretty quickly. That being said, we're going to talk about how you can make cuttings from flowering trees and shrubs bloom indoors during winter. Get it? We are forcing them to do something they wouldn't ordinarily do at this time of year- bloom.

Ornamental trees and shrubs that flower in early spring- think forsythia, flowering quince, bridal wreath spirea, honeysuckle, magnolia, etc.- set their buds before going dormant in the fall. That means that the bush outside in your yard that has looked like an oversize tumbleweed for the past four months has branches loaded with flower buds just waiting for a cue from Mother Nature. Or you.

To signal buds that it's time to flower, you will preferably choose a day that's above freezing, (to make the transition into your warm house easier), grab your secateurs, and approach the shrub. Probably, it looks unsightly, like this.

If you are someone who cares about the appearance and symmetry of your plantings come spring, you will want to prune judiciously. If you are me, you will cut the first branches you can get your hands on while standing in about three feet of snow because, let's be serious: this shrub is a hot mess. (Incidentally, it is also my neighbor's. So...hi! And thank you.)

Bring your trimmings inside and strip any twigs, buds or leaves from the lower part of branches. You can also strip bark from the base with a small paring knife and smash the bottom ends with a hammer, (I know! Mean!) to help them absorb more water, and add a floral preservative to control bacteria. Place in a vase of tepid water, and change it every few days.

Now spend the next several weeks waiting. Wake up every morning like a child on Christmas and run to your vase of twigs. Then walk away, shoulders slumped, convinced that you must have done something wrong. You (probably) didn't! And one day soon, you will be greeted by this pretty reminder that spring really is right around the corner.

Some trees and shrubs that respond well to force:

• Flowering Quince
• Vernal Witch Hazel
• Flowering Dogwood
• Flowering Almond, Cherry, and Plum
• Hawthorn
• Forsythia
• Honeysuckle
• Redbud
• Saucer Magnolia
• Star Magnolia
• European Pussy Willow
• Apple and Crabapple
• Lilac
• Spirea
• Viburnum

The closer you cut your branches to the time they would naturally bloom outdoors, the sooner they will flower.