Fat is Good

Fat is Good

-by Andrew Osyany

Hibiscus

Pulsatilla

Agastache

This is what I was thinking when I was cleaning seed of Ligularia alatipes. If you prefer, I guess, it could be rephrased as "plump is good". All the little bits in the involucre had parachutes attached to them, but hardly any of them were fat and viable. In many flowers none had been fertilized, in a few I could find no more than three. Kristl Walek says that ligularia are among the most notorious of the "empties". In fact, when I checked two other kinds of ligularias we have, one appeared to have no viable seeds, while the other one (the one we believe to be 'Othello') carried lots of good looking seed, but so green still on October 10, that I wonder if they'll make it into the seedex. The Asterace-ae certainly are tricky in the seed-setting department, and many are not much fun to clean. We are quite struggling also with Gaillardia 'Kobold'. Last year I took some of the real difficult ones to clean (including a globularia) to the seed cleaning workshops, where volunteers were great at doing the work for me...

This year has been quite good for the variety of seed sets, but maturity is much delayed in a lot of things, and there are also not the huge quantities that one would expect. The most remarkable production feature of this year is, however, the crop on our wild and uncared-for apple trees. Normally we get modest crops of small, predominantly vectored and mis-shapen fruit. This year one 9'x9' tree produced three bushels altogether, about half of commercial size, others smaller, but with almost no coddling moth damage. Driving around our country-side, there are huge quantities of fallen apples, with no one bothering to pick them and process them. We have more than what we can cope with ourselves and Sue has been churning out apple sauce at a great rate. There has been nothing obvious in the weather pattern in the past season to account for the significant divergence of the apple situation or the less marked departure of the general seed set. Clearly, pollinating insects are around.

Hibiscus

The shortest-growing member of this genus that is known to me is Hibiscus trionum. This is a weed of waste places in semi-tropical areas, and is generally not accorded a good press. However, I have been lucky enough to get a superior form in the late eighties, and I have been touting it ever since. The plant is an annual and it reseeds in Zone 4b, so you should not ever lose it, once you get it. Generally, it grows to about 90cm, and starts flowering in the late summer for a very long time. Flowers open almost flat and are a pale yellow, with a dark purplish centre. The flowers are over 8cm across! A few years ago I was tempted by a pink form, and while there may be a pink tinge to the flowers, they are mingy and never open fully. Don't bother with it, get the real McCoy. Hibiscus diversifolius looks similar, but is also nowhere near as good.

Hibiscus trinonum
Hibuscus trionum

Hibuscus palustris
Hibiscus palustris

Hibiscus palustris is a tallish plant, possibly up to 150cm with lovely large flowers, mostly entirely white or with the slightest pink tinge to them, sometimes with a red centre. Definitely happiest with ample moisture, it is one of late-flowering high-lights in the garden, blooming in September. Mostly the seed never ripens with us. It is not a terribly long-lived plant, and has not re-seeded in our rather competitive wettish scrub. A few years ago Stuart Hechinger contributed seed of Kosteletzkya virginica which is a Hibiscus palustris lookalike, except that it blooms about a month earlier, and so sets seed for us. It likes the same wettish environment, too.

We also try out other hibiscuses that come our way (we like gaudy), but so far mostly that have not stayed with us any length of time. Special mention should be made of Hibiscus syriacus which we admire and drool over everywhere. While it does well even as close as 20km to us, we cannot get anywhere with it. In this miracle year we had one bloom off a shrub that has been sulking for us for four years. Some things are just not meant for us, like Amelanchier, of which I tried a number of different forms in different environments with consistent mortal results.

Cabbagetown story

In the 1960's Don and Inge acquired a house in Cabbagetown, renovated it, and to help with the finances, rented out the ground floor while they occupied the second floor. The tenants were a professor, his children and an au pair girl. Soon after moving in, the tenants acquired Sunshine. The humans were gone during the day, but the puppy stayed home and liked to go upstairs and function everywhere. Don spoke to the tenants and expressions of regret were immediate, but no training was forthcoming. The sequence kept being repeated, with no resolution in sight, and the newly refinished hardwood floor starting to get stained.

One day Don fortified himself with a lot of tea and went downstairs to mark his territory, trying to find as many diverse spots as he could: slippers, a half-opened dresser drawer, etc.

That evening there were lots of cries of dismay shortly after the tenants came home, and Sunshine was gone the next day.

Go to Pulsatilla vulgaris

Go to Agastache

Return to Articles

Hibiscus
The shortest-growing member of this genus that is known to me is Hibiscus trionum. This is a weed of waste places in semi-tropical areas, and is generally not accorded a good press. However, I have been lucky enough to get a superior form in the late eighties, and I have been touting it ever since. The plant is an annual and it reseeds in Zone 4b, so you should not ever lose it, once you get it. Generally, it grows to about 90cm, and starts flowering in the late summer for a very long time. Flowers open almost flat and are a pale yellow, with a dark purplish centre. The flowers are over 8cm across! A few years ago I was tempted by a pink form, and while there may be a pink tinge to the flowers, they are mingy and never open fully. Don't bother with it, get the real McCoy. Hibiscus diversifolius looks similar, but is also nowhere near as good.		Hibuscus trionum
Hibiscus palustris	Hibiscus palustris is a tallish plant, possibly up to 150cm with lovely large flowers, mostly entirely white or with the slightest pink tinge to them, sometimes with a red centre. Definitely happiest with ample moisture, it is one of late-flowering high-lights in the garden, blooming in September. Mostly the seed never ripens with us. It is not a terribly long-lived plant, and has not re-seeded in our rather competitive wettish scrub. A few years ago Stuart Hechinger contributed seed of Kosteletzkya virginica which is a Hibiscus palustris lookalike, except that it blooms about a month earlier, and so sets seed for us. It likes the same wettish environment, too.
We also try out other hibiscuses that come our way (we like gaudy), but so far mostly that have not stayed with us any length of time. Special mention should be made of Hibiscus syriacus which we admire and drool over everywhere. While it does well even as close as 20km to us, we cannot get anywhere with it. In this miracle year we had one bloom off a shrub that has been sulking for us for four years. Some things are just not meant for us, like Amelanchier, of which I tried a number of different forms in different environments with consistent mortal results.
Cabbagetown story
In the 1960's Don and Inge acquired a house in Cabbagetown, renovated it, and to help with the finances, rented out the ground floor while they occupied the second floor. The tenants were a professor, his children and an au pair girl. Soon after moving in, the tenants acquired Sunshine. The humans were gone during the day, but the puppy stayed home and liked to go upstairs and function everywhere. Don spoke to the tenants and expressions of regret were immediate, but no training was forthcoming. The sequence kept being repeated, with no resolution in sight, and the newly refinished hardwood floor starting to get stained. One day Don fortified himself with a lot of tea and went downstairs to mark his territory, trying to find as many diverse spots as he could: slippers, a half-opened dresser drawer, etc. That evening there were lots of cries of dismay shortly after the tenants came home, and Sunshine was gone the next day.

Go to Pulsatilla vulgaris	Go to Agastache	Return to Articles