Monthly Top 10 Plants at Campiello Maurizio (January 2023)

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One of the greatest joys to see each winter in front of the house—Camellia sasanqua ‘Yuletide’.

One: Not much likely needs to be written about why anyone would love a Camellia sasanqua ‘Yuletide’ in winter. Thanks to my quick thinking last year after it bloomed, I pruned it again, and I’m glad that I did! The shape the two shrubs had was off, and heavy snow could have damaged them, but not now after some improved branching and balance. I just love those fragrant red blooms with their yellow stamens. This is one of those shrubs that always gives hope to those who get the winter doldrums. Spring is on its way. USDA zones 7a-10b.

Sadly, I can’t recall where I got this, but I think it was a gift from a friend in California. Agave bracteosa is an absolute favorite and it loves this warm and cozy spot in from of the house.

Two: While I love agaves, and find them to be otherworldly at times, I just don’t have the strength to containerize and move them about to keep them looking fresh. Yes, we have hardy ones here (if planted correctly with A LOT of sharp drainage) but I have not focussed on them as a focal point in my garden even though they are in A LOT of Mediterranean gardens. I think this is Agave bracteosa ‘Calamar’. USDA zones 7-11.

Navelwort came home with me from the greenhouse at work. Also known as Umbilicus rupestris, it’s an adorable little thing that I’ve let naturalize in the moss on my back steps.

Three: This is one of those cottage garden classics from overseas in Europe that you frequently see poking out between stones in walls or stairways. It’s in the Crassulacaea family and has fleshy leaves with tall tapering spire-like blooms. The seeds that leak out of the dried capsules are teeny tiny, and dust like. Their minuscule size enables them to be carried on the wind, blown about, and they appear to germinate best when they land on horizontal or vertical patches of moss. Often found in Ireland, I like to believe this little weedy thing better connects me to my roots a bit, ones that were lopped off just a few generations ago. USDA zones 7a-10b.

Hypertufa containers are something I have A LOT of thanks to my good friend Alex. This is just one of the few that I’ve been able to successfully plant with an alpine plant. Euphorbia clavariodies is a South African succulent.

Four: One of the most wonderful things about last year was meeting some of the alpine plant folks. Moving more into that world makes a lot of sense to me, and it is something I avoided for many years. When the crevice garden was build at Cistus Nursery, I had important conversations with the builders—all talented horticulturists on their own, really a “dream team”—and it felt good. Like many of the things I’ve been doing during the last few years, it sutured an emotional wound. Kinda fun to tell new friends that if it hadn’t been for my poor health I would have met them up high in the mountains decades ago. While that vulnerability was painful at first, letting down my guard led to a warm welcome and I’m happily enfolded now, embraced.

What does this mean? It means that I need to grow more alpines and master techniques. Unfortunately, I don’t have a lot of spots in my garden to do this well yet, but I’m working on it. As of right now, I’ve only successfully been growing a few in containers, and this is my favorite one! Euphorbia clavariodes, from the Drakensberg Mountains. USDA zones 6-10.

This mount with a Rhipsalis sp. has been outside most of the winter. I only bring it indoors when we’re going to be 30F or below overnight.

Five: As always I have a porch filled with plant experiments setup in order to study just how cold hardy they are here in Portland. It’s not a bad thing to do if you have the time to move them in when it freezes—or if you don’t mind if you lose a few things. My projects include orchids, ferns, Hoyas and a few other epiphytic plants. My friend Carlos has encouraged me to mount more, and he’s right. I kind of lost my focus last year and still have a few great mounting projects to complete that I’m excited about for this year. If I begin them now, they’ll look fantastic in a few months. USDA zones 9-10.

This easy conifer needs to be transplanted soon. Microbiota decussata looks its best when it can cascade.

Six: If I could have a larger garden, I would have more conifers. I just cannot say how important they are as bones in the garden. While I understand some can fry here in the Willamette Valley during our hotter months, I do not mind watering them. (Yes, not all of the PNW is a lush forest nor should it be.) This is not a popular opinion, I know, but there is just something comforting to me about them, and that’s likely my knowing how much they thrive here during the other three seasons. As a good designer would say, a good design, and even a great design, will give you a sense of place. No, this is not a native conifer, I know, but it is a beautiful one, that is easy in a container, can take some tough conditions, and can work well with other plantings, and yes, it gives off that lush woodsy feel. Usually it bronzes up a bit in winter. This year though, well, it hasn’t much. USDA zones 3a-8b.

What a sight to see Tanacetum densum ssp. amani popping up with fresh foliage in January!

Seven: When I planted this Tanacetum densum ssp. amani I worried it would look tattered along its edges during the colder months. Well, here it is after a cold spell and during the month of January in a protected but exposed spot in the most xeric spot in my garden. Those feathery leaves, combined with its tenacity, remind me of yarrow, but this plant is so much prettier and so much more lush. It will thrive in warm, sunny spots in the garden. Later this year I’ll enjoy its yellow blooms. USDA zones 4a-11.

Unknown Arctostaphylos x in my garden this winter. This was a random one from work that had the wrong label so we’re not exactly sure what it is yet.

Eight: This is still a funny shrub to me. It’s in the wrong spot in my garden since I don’t have a lot of pink in the front garden, but hey, it won’t matter what’s blooming out there in the wintertime. (My arbitrary rules only apply for 8 months of the year. January is not one of those months. Hahaha.) I wanted folks walking by to see this beauty and ask me more about manzanitas, because you know, I might happen to work at a place that’s well known for our selection of them.

Part of me kind of wishes my entire front garden was filled with them, but I like other plants too much, so I only have this orphan from work. The funny part though is that Sean gifted me with several Arctos over the years that I promptly killed since I depended heavily on a sprinkler back then and drowned them.

I’m so glad those days of wasting so much water are over. USDA zones 7-9.

Pittosporum divaricatum looks like a giant scribble ball in the landscape. Nothing says Seussian landscape like a giant scribble ball!

Nine: A beautiful and unusual New Zealand plant for the fun folks out there. Pittosporum divaricatum is the perfect plant for a garden inspired by Dr. Seuss or Studio Ghibli. (Doesn’t it look a bit like a giant soot sprite (Susuwatari) from the films My Neighbor Totoro and Spirited Away?)

Okay, maybe the playful description is not for everyone, it can be classy too. I see it as a plant that both stands out in the front garden, and yet it blends in too. I love how it looks great year round. It may have tipped over a bit last year when it was top heavy after some snow and ice, but after it had a little posture correction, it is doing even better. USDA zones 8a-10b.

One of the more adorable and fuzzy gesneriads, Sinningia bullata.

Ten: Not a hardy plant, but I’m trying to add one greenhouse or houseplant to each of these Top 10 posts. Another of my Brazilian Sinningia plants, I just love this one and its incredible leaves. Named “bullata” due to the upper surface of the leaves, which are bullate, the fuzz beneath them is a bit like something you’d see in a sci-fi movie like that classic Invasion of the Body Snatchers. Plants do so many incredible things and this thick wool-like fur keeps the pests away, so why not admire it for being both assertive in its survival techniques, as well as looking all gussied up. USDA zone 10.

Set That Log Jam in the Garden on Firrrreeee!!!

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(This post is dedicated to the late Julia Powell. Thank you for your creative content and honest voice. The internet—and especially social media—will always need more writers like you. #ripjuliapowell)

Spontaneous combustion. Sure, sometimes it can be more of a metaphoric process describing the danger of the fire burning inside of all of us. I’ve been celebrating my own blaze recently thanks to this song I listen to often as I work: When A Fire Starts to Burn. (Please watch the video to understand some of my humor here.)

When a fire starts to…

Clearly, with the cold nip in the air, songs with some umph keep me at it.

With lots of posts yet to catch up on from my trip, I’m tied here to my chair this weekend. I’ll still be running out to rescue this and that, but it’s time to start a fire under myself!! Brrrrrrr.

I’m already burning up with activity, but we’ve all got to make room in our lives to welcome whatever changes are heading our way unseen.

(She bends over and lights a match under the chair she is sitting in.)

Fuchsia ‘Poermenneke’ a gift from Theo over at The Fuchsietum. This is a trailing plant so will work best in planters and hanging baskets.

Clearing a logjam takes some skill and must be strategic. I could use dynamite, but, well, I’m not really into destroying my life though sometimes I am asked if I’ll be fired for the things that I write here.

Silly geese. Fly off somewhere, won’t cha?

I planned to do this somewhat thoughtfully. Little fires. Little steps. Maybe the hint of a conflagration here and there.

When a fire starts to burn, right, and it starts to spread

First, I cleaned up a lot more plants outside. In addition to the non-hardy tender plants, I had to sort out the new and special ones I need to propagate for next year. I’m grateful to have a few from friends, and a few I picked up on trips, and a few someone sent me—and more I forgot about. This confusion is part of my job.

I haven’t sorted it ALL out, but I did a lot this week!

She gon’ bring that attitude home

Felix causin’ trouble.

Who don’t wanna do nothing with their life

The next problem is space. It’s fun to save plants from the cold, but it’s not fun to have no space to move.

A lifeboat is always limited. And we have our limits too.

I see this happening a lot now with houseplant enthusiasts who went OVERBOARD and did deep dives into the houseplant lifestyle during the worst of the pandemic.

Collectors are finding it more difficult to unload plants they bought as investments.

Set a fire under that too! Compost it! Toss it! Give it away!

I know that’s what I’ve been doing. I can feel the water beginning to flow!!!

When a fire starts to…

Another part of the logjam has been to clean additional space in the house. I just had to find the time to work on cleaning it up too, and I did!

And like that, another part of the jam is gone! Splish splash away—woohoo!

Felix in the sorting area—trying to get my attention. Oftentimes I wonder if I’ve turned into Mrs. Jellyby in Bleak House by Charles Dickens. Am I practicing “telescopic philanthropy” as I grow unusual and uncommon plants hoping to keep some of them in commerce? Do I care about the plant world at the expense of my own affairs? Nah, not in my case, but this can be an issue.

Nothing like having Felix help me. Since I was gone for many weeks this summer, I’m working as much as I can to make up for it. Felix missed me and now he misses me more. Days at home with him are precious.

Prescribed fire anyone?

Sure looks like I need one, doesn’t it?

I cannot wait to get in there with the pruners and the chainsaw! This winter the garden is going to be cut back harder than it was last year.

When a first starts to burn, right, and it starts to spread

Last week the chaos began, and I hustled there too. First we had the crazy atmospheric river dump on us. I enjoy rain a lot, but days of it, uh, not my idea of a beautiful fall day.

But that rain won’t dampen anything in me either.

She gon’ bring that attitude home

Who don’t wanna do nothing with their life

Then I sort of lightly helped doing an activity that is common for my friends and I. Along with Sean and Preston, I helped out on what was the last day of a garden move for our friend Evan. We dug a few things, took cuttings, grabbed some seeds, and generally admired the garden our friend had made. This can be a lovely group activity, and I highly recommend helping a friend get through this process.

I’m glad we were all there together since it felt very supportive. Other friends of ours helped too over the last few weeks and I’m grateful they did.

When a fire starts to…

After having had freezing cold feet for an entire day after being outside last Sunday, and the day before at home, and I finally put down some money and ordered these attractive (and warm) boots for the next few months. Yet another log from the log jam removed!

BAM!!

Change. Change is good.

And all of the crops are being sown! It’s like a whirlwind. That little backup will take a few more weeks to ease, but it’s a small issue. I feel better this week.

When a fire starts to burn, right, and it starts to spread

I think I earned this sweater this week—or I should get one like it.

She gon’ bring that attitude home

I cleaned a ton of seeds this week. (I’m not always starting trouble or thinking about how I can stir the pot again.)

Some seeds are easier to clean than others. (Some people have thinner skin than others.)

I worked on an email list too. (Naming the names.)

Who don’t wanna do nothing with their life

Created from recycled materials, I have to say that this style would work well for me. It’s likely I’ll buy something like it this winter. I’m not sure I want to wear recycled water bottles, crushed oyster shells and cotton, but that is what this one consists of and it’s kind of surreal to me. I DO love oysters.

Memento mori. It’s never too late to remember the inevitable.

It’s no wonder that most traditional garden writing bores me. Here I go, rafting down my own stream of consciousness as I round the bend. Howling with laughter and sinking into exhaustion as I go…

Mislabeled and unknown Streptocarpus hybrid. Kind of a mut like the rest of us. I’m not going to judge. Crazy human attraction created it too.

Sorting plants meant finding plants to sell, trade or raffle at events. Oh the many stories fluttering around my mind right now of all of the sharing and caring that’s been done at my hands, and the hands of others, and all that love that is in my garden and home!

Who don’t wanna do nothing with their life

Oh those busy anxious animal hands of ours. Oh how we hate to tell people we’ve killed something they’ve shared with us.

(She sits and stares off into space wondering how many victims there still are to discover in her autumn garden cleanup.)

Still unsure of my Irish heritage, but willing to embrace it more with wool sweaters, colcannon, dulse, oysters, spots of Irish whisky, and letting my sharp tongue run free.

When a fire starts to…

Continuing on this journey through “my style” (hell, at this point I need a damn Pinterest board) my other task to loosen up the jam was to get some of my favorite Irish cream.

While I don’t have nearly any chronic pain now, this can still be a wonderful treat when the weather is cold.

Along with this I’m cleaning out the pantry. With the plants all in bed, I can cook again, and entertain.

I may even go to an Irish pub again to listen to music and enjoy dancing as I once did. (No beer for me. Sorry. Allergic. I just need a fully belly and happy heart to dance.)

When a fire starts to…

Reuniting Alfie with the woman who helped to rescue him was another task this week. He was a feral kitten rescued at a farm on Sauvie Island, and is not like my other cats. Cistus Nursery is on the same island, and at that time, my coworker had a second job at the farm, so he was the one to ask me if I wanted a kitten.

I’d recently lost my last feral cat Mona, so I decided to replace her with a cat who needed to be rescued.

YES OF COURSE I WANTED A KITTEN!!!

And that is how Alfie came into my life—our little linebacker, a heavy sack of potatoes, a bully, and a sweetheart.

I’d promised my coworker Kris that I’d bring the little pile of bricks (he is incredibly heavy) so we made the date last week, and I’m glad that I did. It was Election Day and we all needed a distraction.

When a fire starts to burn, right, and it starts to spread

Alfie was not very helpful during his brief visit in the greenhouse. While he was in there with Kris and I, he found a snail and was proud of himself. As a mostly feral cat, he preferred hiding, so I took him back to the Jeep until his other mother arrived.

This made Election Day a bit less stressful. It was self-care of the highest level. I love my cats. They keep my life full and oddly grounded. I still have a few more things to catch up on, but this week I got a lot accomplished.

She gon’ bring that attitude home.

But it’s a balance. Life is a lot for all of us right now and the anxiety out there is palpable.

Who don’t wanna do nothing with their life

So keep going and be the change that you want. Set those logjams on fire, and strategically get things done.

And don’t forgot to dance.

When a fire starts to…

When a fire starts to burn, right, and it starts to spread

She gon’ bring that attitude home

Who don’t wanna do nothing with their life