Sunday, February 26, 2012

UNfavorite Annuals

Earlier I took a look at some of my very favorite annuals to grow from seed. Here are some seed-grown annuals that are at the opposite end of the spectrum for me, for one reason or another.

Caveat: these flowers may be just fine in another situation, or perhaps if you know how to treat them right. They may in fact be on your list of favorites, and perhaps I am unfairly maligning them. Please don't be offended or arrest me for plant calumny - this is just my two cents based on my particular growing experience!

Cosmos

Cosmos 'Daydream' falling on squash
I'll start with Cosmos. I know this is a super popular annual to grow from seed. It does indeed germinate easily (just sow and grow), and the flowers are certainly pretty. The foliage is cool and ferny looking. HOWEVER - in my garden, the plants always get blown over just as soon as they barely begin flowering (if not before). This leads to lots of stem breakage, and a general ugly sprawling mess. Also, in my relatively short growing season they don't start to flower until mid-August. I kept growing cosmos for several years, hoping that the poor performance was just a fluke, and then finally gave it the ax.

Cosmos 'Sonata' also falling on squash, despite wooden supports intending to prevent this

Lavatera

Lavatera 'Mont Blanc' blooming for 4 minutes
Lavatera is an annual that gets praised to the skies in seed catalogs, and always looks stunning in the pictures. (I've learned not to trust most seed catalog descriptions by now, of course - liars!) The plant does indeed grow at a heart-stopping rate, quickly getting large and full of blooms. The flowers are big and abundant. HOWEVER, the plant has an insubstantial and cheap show-offy character that I find frankly irritating. And most importantly, as soon as blooming begins it gets some sort of wilt (?), the foliage turns lurid shades of yellow-brown, and the entire plant collapses in a heap. It looks like slime stew. Fortunately for your stomach, I have no pictures of the plant in this state. Here is a shot just before meltdown:

Lavatera 'Mont Blanc' about to melt (note poor condition of foliage)
As you can imagine, lavatera will not be joining us anymore.

Gomphrena

Gomphrena 'Woodcreek Lavender' with Zinnia 'Benary's Giant Salmon' (why?)
This one is totally unfair, but I was so traumatized (and embarrassed) by the combination of Gomphrena 'Woodcreek Lavender' and salmon zinnias in my garden one year that I cannot think of this plant without feeling nausea. (I made this photo EXTRA LARGE so you could enjoy it as well!) Of course, it's not the gomphrena's fault that its flowers are that color. I can't really justify this one, but I just don't like this plant. It looks like it has mauve pimples. And it had the gall to spoil my beautiful zinnia display.

Clarkia elegans

Clarkia elegans 'Appleblossom'
I absolutely love the other types of clarkias I've grown, but clarkia elegans was a real disappointment. Despite frilly pink double flowers (something which normally wakes up the 6-year old girl in me, who generally has the power to override whatever the rest of me is thinking), the ungainly mess of a plant habit caused my adult brain to get cranky and do a veto. It's hard to see in this awful photo, but the plant has branches that stick out in an awkward fashion every which way. The double flowers apparently come as a total surprise to the plant, causing it to fall over in astonishment. Foliage is not attractive and the whole thing looks vaguely weedy. The flowers, habit, and foliage have a kind of incongruity to them, as if the pieces were compiled from leftover bits of other plants. And perhaps most offensive: the flowers LOOK like they should be fragrant, but they're not! (how dare they?)

Bells of Ireland

Another annual that I will never grow again is Bells of Ireland, molucella laevis. This is what it looks like at first:
Bells of Ireland and annual Candytuft
 So architectural! Such classy green flowers! Stretching proudly towards the sky! I was thrilled enough with it to decide that the odor - which some apparently nose-damaged gardeners have likened to lemon - did not really bother me all that much. Well, as long as I stood quite far away while viewing it. And then it did this:
Bells of Ireland going crazy
The bottom half of the plant turns brown, the top half begins to twist and turn and fall all over the place. It is a 6-foot monster that crushes everything in its path. (It smothered my favorite clarkia!) So, I decided to hold my nose, get near it, and pull it out. By this point it has formed very thick, woody stems that are difficult to break off. It has surprisingly deep roots that resist my attempts to pull them. Naturally, it is also covered in thorn (a detail I had failed to notice before, since I was standing so far away from it). Worst of all, the smell - the awful smell of toxic industrial strength dish detergent mated with skunk - gets on your hands, your clothes, your hair. And will not wash off for days. It smells nothing like lemon, believe me.

So I decided never to plant this awful curse again. Only bad luck for me, because Bells of Ireland reseeds abundantly and widely, as any garden reference can tell you. (I actually do own many garden references and you would think I would consult them before planting something. Yet somehow, I still see a pretty picture in a seed catalog and think "The best way to find out about this plant is to scatter seed in the garden and just see what happens! No need to consult the wisdom of millions of gardeners who have gone before me - that would be a cop-out!") This was about five years ago, and every year since then I have been pulling stinky seedlings. Someone else has inherited my old rented community plot now - poor unfortunate soul! I will miss many things about that old familiar piece of ground - the loamy texture which I broke my back to achieve, the giant pile of free all-you-can-haul compost and leaf mold, the neighborly garden companionship. But molucella, I say goodbye to you with a smile.

18 comments:

  1. I enjoyed reading about why you didn't like these annuals. Bells of Ireland looks like a strange sculpture in your photo!

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    1. Yes, and I would have enjoyed it for something bizarre and different if only it didn't REEK and smash everything around it!

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  2. Oh, this made me laugh. I love gomphrena and couldn't imagine why you didn't like it, but I do remember the one year I had it, it didn't really "go" with what I had planted it with. And then - Bells of Ireland. Always looks so regal in photos. But yours looks like it's auditioning for a clown's job!

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    1. It looks like a mutant - guess I should have just pulled it out earlier. But I didn't want to go anywhere near it with that smell.

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  3. First, thanks so much for visiting my own blog! I really appreciate your comment.

    Second, I like this tell-it-like-it-is post! Personally, I'm not offended by the gomphrena combination. But the cosmos I totally agree with. I live far south of you, and my cosmos doesn't bloom till late summer either, and its growth pattern is just as you describe. I hate how it sprawls and flops over everything around it. Its one redeeming quality is that the butterflies love it.

    P.S. I'm glad you led me to your own blog. I look forward to exploring it further!

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    1. Good to know cosmos misbehaves down south as well Deb. I didn't know butterflies particularly enjoyed cosmos, that's definitely a redeeming feature. I think I'll concentrate on planting other things they like though!

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  4. Hi. I have just joined your blog as a fellow Zone 5 gardener. I live in the northern part of Colorado. Drop my garden sometime. Much luck growing your blog.

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    1. Thanks Ann! Your blog looks great and I look forward to hearing more about your garden. I just think it's so fun that we can visit gardens all over the world from our computer chairs.

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  5. Thanks for joining my blog. I quite agree about visiting gardens around the world. See you soon.

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    1. You're welcome Ann! I look forward to seeing your garden grow.

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  6. What a great blog post this is. You had me giggling a few times, there! Poor Gomphrena, rejected forever for one mistake. And picturing your Clarkia falling over in astonishment nearly had me falling out of my chair. I don't agree about Cosmos, because here it flowers from very early Summer and I always grow it in spaces between more robust plants that hold it upright. I agree it's probably not right in your cooler Summers. But it seems to me that there is some exciting potential for the Bells of Ireland, with its twisty, sea-monster tentacles. I have always thought that if I had more land, I'd plant a garden in a tucked-away corner and fill it with weird, other-worldly plants, ones that look ugly in normal gardens but that together might be fascinating rather than repulsive. Molucella would definitely be a serious contender for a spot, don't you think?

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    1. There is probably a good home waiting for all of my misfits! You are lucky cosmos grows nicely in your area - I do wish it were more suited to my region as I do think both the flowers and foliage are beautiful - so light and cheery. I love your idea of planting a "monster" garden - that would be great fun! I bet kids would love that.

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  7. I have often felt that way about some annuals that are not performing well or have seemingly gone wild. Gardening is interesting, isn't it?

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    1. Yes, I actually really enjoy experimenting and growing new things all the time. It's fun to observe and see what happens - especially if the result is not what we expected.

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  8. Rebecca thank you for stopping by my blog : )
    I had a great giggle over this post .. more gardeners should be doing posts like this to warn other gardeners of the dark side to some plants ? LOL
    I am terrible with seeds .. I completely forget that I buy them in that garden madness haze we go through near the end of winter ... only to discover packets of them in an office box by October ? JEEZ !!
    I had a great laugh with this post .. it was perfect ! Keep them coming : )
    Joy
    PS .. I have tried for 4 blanking years to do the Moon Flower vine and it always fails me .. I am begining to HATE that damn thing every time I see a seed packet in a store !!!

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    1. Oh NO - I just bought moon flower seeds last weekend! Had never tried them before but picked them up on a whim at the store. Oh well, thanks for the warning. I too buy WAY more seed packets than I need every year. In winter, everything seems possible...

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  9. Here I was looking forward to arresting someone for plant calumny for the very first time in my life, and then you so nicely asked us not to. Oh, well. Some other blogger, then. Cosmos grow well here, but local gardening authors do recommend the dwarf varieties b/c of the wind/breakage issue. (Our spring winds are relentless, or at least they seem that way.) Between the smell you describe so unforgettably and the waving tentacles, the Bells of Ireland have something Harry Potter-ish about them. You didn't buy the seeds from someone in a pointy hat by any chance, did you?

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    1. Oh yes, that's a perfect description - perhaps some evil wizard put a stink hex on them!

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