Roses: Two ladies and a pet

Marie Pavic

I had an idea for this post for a while, as something I would like to do if I had a chance to redesign my garden from the beginning. Each time I visit the Rosarium in Winschoten, there they are, three little white roses, Katharina Zeimet, Marie Pavic and Little White Pet. All three of them are old polyantha roses, with small blooms and moderate fragrance. All three of them were in my rose wish list, at some point in time, just never made that final cut; and each year, when I see them bloom in Rosarium, I regret that decision.

In general, polyantha roses are small and a bit odd group of roses. They appeared back in the 18th century: at that time there was an ongoing effort to develop an attractive, repeat blooming rose, mostly by crossing newly imported species roses from Asia, with pretty much everything else. Literally, polyantha means "many-flowered"; also one of the first polyantha roses had r. multiflora "Polyantha" in their parentage. Apart of the name, the novelty at the time was their prolific, almost continuous blooming, combined with low maintenance and reasonable hardiness (especially compared with one of their parents, r. chinensis), which, in many cases, is still not surpassed today.

Marie Pavic

Marie Pavic (sometimes spelled Marie Pavié, possibly also Marie Pavić) is the oldest of the three, a rose introduced in France by Alphonse Alegatiere in 1888. The story of this gentleman is quite an interesting one, originally he was a tanner and began growing flowers only late in his life, after he could not continue with his original trade due to the sickness. In the last decades of his long life (he died at age 72), he created a few new varieties of carnations and roses, among which was this remarkable polyantha, Marie Pavic. Also, interestingly, seemingly it is named after an amateur rose gardener, Marie Pavic, a lady from Agram (Zagreb) in Croatia. There are little known details, but it is possible that this lady was someone he kept a correspondence with; quite amusing really, considering that it all was back in the Victorian era, when it took weeks or even months for the letters to travel between the countries.

A bed of Marie Pavic, past prime

As for the rose herself, she is a small bush rose, white or nearly white (fresh blooms have a pale pink tint). Moderately fragrant, blooms in rapid flushes through the season. Almost thornless (which is always nice, especially in a patio garden!), grows to about 60 cm, but if sparingly pruned, and in good soil, can reach twice that size, eventually. Generally stays healthy and does not require spraying, young canes have a purplish tint, which later fades. Can tolerate a bit of dappled shade, especially in the warmer climates, and is surprisingly hardy, by some accounts up to zone 5, where she can overwinter with minimal protection.

Katharina Zeimet

Katharina Zeimet is, in a way, a younger relative of Marie Pavic, bred by a famous German rose breeder, Peter Lambert, at the turn of the century (1901). P. Lambert lived in Trier, close to the Germany - Luxembourg border. His legacy to the rose world was quite an important one, many of his roses became ancestors of the modern varieties, including a rose named Trier, a parent of many early hybrid musk roses. Katharina Zeimet is one of the many, and although it is not the most famous one, when a rose stays in commerce for more than 100 years, it certainly has some attractive properties and deserves the recognition.

There is little information known about who was the woman of the same name, quite likely it was some lady from Trier society, perhaps a relative (another of his roses is named after Therese Zeimet, born Lambert, which would indicate there were some family ties with Zeimets), or a wife of some important gentleman.

A bed of Katharina Zeimet

A rose, Katharina Zeimet, is a cross between Marie Pavic and another polyantha, most likely Étoile de Mai. In other words, Marie Pavic is its mommy, so it is not very strange that they share some similar qualities. Katharine Zeimet is white or near white, with a small tint of yellow. She is fragrant and, by the looks of it, blooms very early, one of the first roses in the Rosarium in Winschoten; and then keeps repeating till the end of the gardening season. She grows to about 60 cm and seems to stay that way, quite attractive form as a bush. Healthy and reasonably hardy, at least nothing to worry about in NL climate; and quite rain resistant, the petals show no damage even after long periods of rainy weather, which generally is quite rare for the white roses. Sometimes she is also sold under the name White Baby Rambler, which is rather misleading, because she has nothing to do with rambling or climbing, she does not grow even a bit close to that size.

Little White Pet

The last of the bunch, Little White Pet, also a polyantha, is a rose of a bit different origin. It is considered to be a sport: that's when a part of a rose plant for some reason mutates, for example a pink rose all of a sudden has a branch with white flowers, or small rose has one cane that grows very high, turning into a climber. It is a natural process, some of these sports are stable, some can revert to the original color or size. Either way, in case of Little White Pet, it was discovered in 1879 by a father of US horticulture, Peter Henderson, and thought to be is a miniature version of a massive rambler, Felicite Perpetue. Felicite Perpetuea, in her turn, is a rosa sempervirens hybrid, created by Antoine A. Jacques in France around 1827. There is some murkiness in this connection, because Felicite Perpetue can reach a height up to 6 meters and blooms once, when Little White Pet is a small, reblooming rose. It can as well be that White Little Pet was a seedling of Felicite Perpetue, and not a sport, or that they were were related in some other way, not excluding a simple mix up of the records when grafting.

A bed of Little White Pet

Either way, regardless of its origin, Little White Pet is a really nice little white rose, with small pompon like blooms. Flower buds, while closed, remain pinkish, which gives a pretty nice contrast to the open white blossoms. Fragrant, rebloom is decent, people say that in the winterless climates she can bloom as long as 10 months in the year. The whole rose shrub grows to about 60 cm high, although if it is very happy, it can get slightly bigger than that. Healthy, does not need spraying, can stand a bit of shade or drought, the later is quite handy when growing it in a pot, especially in the hot summer. Its quite vigorous for its size, forming a nice mound in one season, and reasonably hardy, at least here in NL.

Sooo... two ladies and one little pet... One day, perhaps, I will get to grow all three of them, in the pots, or maybe even in the ground, as a nice row of little white mounds. These three roses you have to grow to appreciate, they do not have the immediate wow-factor of the hybrid teas roses. You start to like these little gems later, after you look at your garden one day and think, that well.. actually... some of these modern hybrid teas look like they have been made of plastic, maybe I should've gone for something more natural. By many accounts, these three little polyanthas are very satisfying garden plants, blending in into the garden design, rather than screaming "LOOK AT ME"; and with the little care they require, they also are a joy to grow.

(Spring) Crocus

Crocus

When I moved to NL 10 years ago, I was seriously missing... the snow. Back at home snow was often present from November till March, in all sorts of stages, starting as a lovely white fluff and ending up dirty, wet and crusty. While the first snow of a season always was a lovely event, by the New Year you generally got to loath it; and by Mardigrass you could not wait for the damn thing to be finally gone. Then, somewhere in the beginning of March, everything turned into a wet cold mire for at least a week; generally I tried to spend that time at home, observing from my warm(ish) perch how other people do swimming on ice. And then... an aesthetic nightmare! Piles of dog poop, brown grass, rotten goo of an unknown origin and other unpleasantness before the new greenery of the season covers (most of it) up.

Dutch winter often reminds me a bit of a Northern spring, although it is usually greener (the grass seldom gets really brown here) and cleaner (as all the junk does not accumulate in the snow for half of the year). By the looks we are wrapping up the last leftovers of the winter this year, and while, in theory, temperatures still can drop down in the last bit of February, I highly doubt they will.

Crocus

And that means.... BULB TIME! Something I am really looking forward to every year! The first and the obvious, of course, are crocus. There are so many varieties, that at some point I stopped noting the names and just went for the colors, sticking them all over the place.

Generally there are a few basic things to know about crocus. Most of them, with a very few exceptions, like to be planted in a sunny position, in a sandy (or gritty) well-drained soil, although they can also quite successfully grow in clay, as long as it does not get waterlogged. Especially it is important in their rest season: it is essential that they do not get over watered at that point. They are native to the areas with humid winter/spring and dry, hot summers, and because of those conditions they are adapted to go into dormancy in summer rather than in the winter. . It is also the reason why crocus are normally planted (and replanted) in the late summer or early autumn (both spring and autumn varieties), because at that point they start coming out of dormancy and grow new roots.

Crocus

Crocus also do not like to be fertilized, even in the poor soils, so a common mistake is to put them in the beds with other, fertilizer greedy, plants. However, they can grow quite well under the trees or shrubs, because their vegetation season is over before the trees leaf out and they do not care about the shade while they lay dormant. Commonly they also are planted in the lawns, but not all cultivars are suitable for that. It can become a hassle to maw a lawn in that case, because most of the time, especially with big bloom varieties, crocus are not done blooming when the lawn needs its first spring trim. It is also possible to grow crocus in the pots and planters, but those have to be stored in the dry place during the summer, and it can require a bit more skill than one could suspect. Crocus are not very eager to develop new bulbs (ok, officially the bulbs are called corms, but for the easiness, lets just call them bulbs) if the conditions in their pot are not ideal. Most of the time, even if they survive, they won't rebloom well in the pots, so this method of growing is somewhat redundant.

Crocus

More vigorous and faster multiplying varieties can become a bit of an invasive weed, especially it can be difficult to fish out all the miniature bulbs from the rock gardens or slurry soils. It is because of a rather interesting way how they, plainly speaking, dig themselves in: if the crocus bulb "thinks" its well being is threatened, it will try to send its new bulbs deeper into the soil, sometimes even as deep as half a meter or more.

This generally has a lot to do with a life cycle of a crocus bulb (corm) in general. In spring, the food stored in the bulb makes crocus to rapidly grow and produce leaves and flowers. Food made by the leaves is sent back, just not to the old bulb, but to the base of the stem above it. This region swells and forms a new bulb on top of the old one, and the old bulb shrinks and dies. Meanwhile, some spare buds on the old bulb will grow sideways and form new extra bulbs. However, a formation of a new bulb on top of the old one eventually would bring the successive bulbs nearer and nearer to the soil surface. To prevent that from happening, bulb develops contractile roots from the base of the new bulb, which, once grown, contract and pull the new bulb down.

Speaking of the crocus varieties, most commonly grown are cultivars of crocus vernus, crocus chrysanthus and crocus flavus, or their crosses, but there also are many other botanic species grown as ornamental plants. A rule of thumb is that dark purple, violet and yellow varieties often are more easy to grow than the clear blue ones, and multiply faster; with the white ones being somewhere in between.

Learning to learn about the roses

New Dawn

If someone asked about my favorite flower, I probably would not say "a rose". Considering that I have about 150 of them prickly things in the garden, it may sound a bit strange, but for me they are a rather recent garden obsession. Although there always were some in my garden, I never really paid much attention to their names or classes. In our old LT garden they were my moms flowers, I generally did not meddle much with them, apart of adding an occasional impulse buy. In retrospective, my mom was not very good in the whole rose thing either, even though she loves the roses and they actually are her favorite flower. She read a couple of garden advice books, but (as I figured that out later) it was mostly about hybrid tea roses and their maintenance; and that generally is not a very universal thing, because different groups of roses need different care, not to mention that there was no information about the old garden varieties, probably deemed inferior by the authors. So, since nobody really did much of homework, we kept buying crap varieties and crap plants, and wondered why the damn things do not want to grow.

Constance Spry, slightly past her prime

Either way, there are two reasons why I ended up knowing about roses more than I intended to know. First one was a moss rose: I did not even suspect a rose like that existed until I saw her planted in a memorial garden. The second reason was that big cabbagy rose in a local nursery, mistakenly labeled as Eden rose, which in fact was Constance Spry (that's another long story altogether though). Either way, when I saw it, I had to have it! So there we go, one late autumn evening I decided to google them up, and my NL garden never was the same.

As I learned more about different roses though, I also noticed that a lot of information has to be taken with a grain (or, in some cases, with a sack) of salt, because for one, personal preferences play a huge part in the "advices" you get; and for second, people just won't consider different climate conditions, insist on leading you the wrong way and still have a nerve to be pissed when you dare to doubt their "expertise".

Cecile Brunner

To give an example, it is very true for all the tea rose enthusiasts, which you often encounter looking up old garden roses. Typically, they are gardening in hot climates, such as Southern California, Florida or Australia, where they do not have a winter to speak off and dry hot summers. Tea roses might be a viable plant there, but here they are greenhouse plants, pretty miserable when planted outdoors (if they even survive their first winter). In the hot climates, on the other hand, there are other problems with them, and if you are willing to dig under a pile of praise, you figure, that, actually, quite often tea rose blooms go crisp (literally) in hours in +40C dry heat and only a few varieties are ok with it; and in humid hot climates they can defoliate pretty badly due to the blackspot; and they tend to grow into huge unruly bushes which do not like to be pruned, which, in its turn, is not necessarily a good thing for a small city garden. So there you go, "perfect" and "wonderful" and "easy" to grow rose, which is not hardy, is miserable with temps lower than +25C, turns into a dry floristic arrangement with +30C, defoliates completely if it rains, and if it grows, it turns into 2x2 m shrub, which cannot be pruned, because then it goes into a floral tantrum... and that's what you MUST grow in your garden if you live in a hot climate, because all other roses are shit and your faithful rosy advisers will be very surprised, if you decide that, perhaps, some modern variety might be a better idea.

Comtesse de Barbantane

Real answer is, as with every other garden plant, it depends. It depends what variety you choose, what exactly climate you have, and how much of babysitting you want to do with your plant, and most of all, what you like. An ordinary gardener is not a rose expert aiming for a flower show, although quite annoyingly this "minor" difference also often gets lost somewhere down the advice hot line! Spraying your roses every week is not something I would call a "normal" rose care, it is more like rose intravenous therapy, to keep half dead things alive. It also depends if you get a generic or a very specific advice, especially when things are a matter of taste. I remember some people telling how wonderful and strong fragrance of a particular rose was... but eventually I saw that rose in the gardens and hated the fragrance! Lesson learned there, if you want to get something recommended as "very fragrant", it can be a lot of fragrance you do not like!

Louise Odier, grown from cutting

Another big advisory misleading is that whole own-root rose fade. It is mostly an American thing, with some followers there and there. Thing is, most roses in Europe are sold grafted into a rootstock (r. multiflora, or r. canina most of the time), but with some troubles in US rose industry (sick rootstock and and a skill required to properly graft the plants), some specialist nurseries there began propagating their roses by cuttings and sell them "own root". It is a half decent method in warm climates (again, California and co), where roses can take fairly quickly and do not get slowed down by a long cold season. Also it is more viable with some older, more vigorous, varieties, because in the distant past roses were propagated that way and own root vigor was taken into account when breeding them (to some extent at least). However, it is a rubbish method with many modern varieties, because those were created to rely on a vigorous rootstock to give them a growth push, especially in the colder climates, with short growing season. If you happen to like those, you will be screwed if you tried them own root.

Albertine, another rose grown from a cutting

It also has some extra dangers in the cold climates, because those tiny own root plants often do not strengthen enough before the winter and freeze out; but that is not only the own-rootness itself, but also a size of aplant they ship to the customer. Generally, when we buy a grafted bare root rose in EU, we buy a 4 year old plant: its root stock was grown in a field for 2 years, then it got grafted, grew another 2 years, and only then it was considered a quality product, ready for sale. Own root roses, however, can be sold as "bands": that is, a tiny half a year old plant (and with the worst of luck, just a rooted cutting), which generally croak fairly easily if left to fend for themselves in the garden.

Dresden Doll

All in all, when you look for the information, there is quite some encouragement to try exchanging and rooting cuttings yourself, because it is "easy". Well, it isn't. Especially if you do not have an expensive mist propagator or at least a proper greenhouse; and even more so if you want to have varieties that are more "difficult" to root in general. I tried different rooting methods for 4 seasons, just to satisfy the curiosity: from about 100 cuttings (aka 100 possible plants), I managed to grow 3 and a half of plant. Quite a disappointing propagation rate I would say. Of course, I did not have a propagator, or a greenhouse, and perhaps did not TLC (tender love and care) the cuttings enough, but that is how I do things in my garden.

In other words, what works or does not work for you, you can tell only after trying it yourself, no matter what kind of praises the other people are singing to a plant or a gardening method. So it is back to the gardening basics, observe the plant and learn from it.

There are, of course, people who genuinely know a lot about roses and who can give you tons of useful information, from their own experience or experience of their friends, it is just a matter of filtering it all and finding the gems in between all the other cackle.

Bonita

Cosmos

Cosmos bipinnatus

Sometime back, while sorting family photo archive, I came across a picture of my grandma with a bed of Cosmos bipinnatus. The photo was taken sometime back in the 60-ties, if I am not mistaken, at a farmstead of some relatives. It is also a view I remember from many other rural gardens, a sea of feathery leaves, somewhat reminding of dill, with many pastel colored daisies sprinkled on top.

I can't recall us growing cosmos in our LT garden; but that probably was more due to (non)availability of the seeds rather than a lack of interest from our part. Modest, but beautiful, it is one of the must-have flowers in a cottage or rural garden for me; or in general anywhere where a wild flower would look not out of place. Since cosmos blooms towards the autumn it is also a useful flower for extending the flowering season in the garden, and with the wide choice of the varieties available these days, it is easy to find a perfect one to match almost any color scheme.

Cosmos bipinnatus "Seashells"

So what are they? Cosmos is a genus of plants, consisting of flowering plants in the sunflower family. They are native to Central and South Americas, but nowadays also grow in a wild in parts of North America and Africa, where they were (un)intentionally introduced, like many other garden escapees. The common theory is that the missionaries in Mexico started growing them in their gardens (hence a common name Mexican aster) and from there it eventually made its way to Europe and beyond, probably somewhere in the 18th century. Usually there are two subspecies grown for ornamental purposes, Cosmos bipinnatus (purple, white and pink) and Cosmos sulphureus (red, yellow and orange), but with some of the modern hybrids it is not always easy to tell to which subspecies they should belong to. While most have the typical dill like leaves, their height, color and even bloom form can vary significantly: there are dwarf and tall varieties, singles and doubles, with curved petals, stripey, mega size blossoms and so on and so forth, sky (and funds available) is the limit.

Cosmos bipinnatus from a seed mix

Here, in NL garden, I normally sow Cosmos straight to the soil, somewhere in mid April, if we do not have a particularly cold spring. It does not seem to mind this approach, even though the soil is a heavy sea clay, but of course the germination rate usually is better in a greenhouse. Since it originates from Mexico and surroundings, it is not strange that it needs a bit of a warmth to germinate and likes heat in general (it is also a reason why it can be seeded reasonably late in the spring and still do well). They do need some sun, but they prefer poorer soils, so heavy fertilizing is not a good idea. Otherwise they require little extra care, as it often is the case with many other old garden plants. High varieties can get top heavy sometimes and flop after a heavy rain, so it is good to give them some support, either by tying them, or planting them between more stiff plants. Mildew also can be a bit of a nuisance in places where it is a common problem; I never had it here however.

If the variety is close to the wild species, they can self seed, especially eager to grow on the building sand piles and alike, but many of the modern hybrids are sterile and won't set out to conquer the neighborhood. In case the self-seeding is desired, it is best to stop deadheading them somewhere in the autumn and leave the stems to overwinter, so they have a chance to spread their seeds around. Heavy raking of the soil in the beds where they grew previously usually diminishes the chances for the seeds to germinate, so it is either leave it mostly undisturbed... Or just buy new seeds for the new season and skip the hassle, especially since there are so many varieties to try. :)

Grandma with a bed of Cosmos

Meanwhile, indoors

We got a bit of sunshine yesterday - finally a really nice day to go for a proper, long walk around the village, to see what changed in the gardens! It still is rather wintery here, but snowdrops already appear out of the ground, and crocus probably are not far behind either. Some people did a bit of pruning, some old trees and shrubbery got cut down, but overall it seems that gardens are still drowsing in their winter lethargy. Not for long though, as the active February sun is waking up the earth and migrating birds already prepare for their trip homewards.

Meanwhile, the full blossoming mostly is happening on on the windowsills, with a wide selection of orchids, amaryllis and other indoor plants looking through the glass. I am happy to see that a typical Xmas plant, Euphorbia pulcherrima, finally is out of fashion, I never liked that one and it seemed to be a must-have in the winter season for decades. If you did not buy one, you usually ended up with someone gifting you the dreaded thing anyway, if not alive, then a fake imposter of it; not to mention that all of the tasteless and cheesy Xmas designs seem to incorporate it, adding to the insult.

I love amaryllis though. I remember it from when I was a kid, as the flower to give for the winter season birthdays. People called it "gramophone" back then, I suppose because it resembles an old phonograph a bit. My godfather's family used to grow them for sale, so some leftover bulbs often ended up at our place: amazing when in bloom, incredibly dull for the rest of the season, just like most bulbs. I do like an instant gardening approach to them, buy a bulb, let it bloom, dispose of it; however it is possible to properly grow them indoors. In that case, first thing is selecting a bulb. As with any bulb, everything what a plant is ready to give sits stored in the bulb, so the bigger and healthier it looks, the better it will perform. It is best to plant it in a spacious pot, preferably on a heavy side, because huge and heavy flowers can tilt a plastic pot quite easily over, resulting in an unnecessary mess. Also most of the time the flowers need some support, to prevent them from breaking from their weight. Any kind of light soil can do really, the finer the better and it has to be well draining, because amaryllis do not like to be waterlogged. Once planted they have to be watered till they bloom (i.e. normally watered, not drowned), when flowering is done, flower stalks should be cut down and the plant fertilized repeatedly while it grows its leaves. Fertilizing is very important at this point, because plainly speaking, it is feeding the bulb for the next year. The plants can even be put outdoors at some point, but there it is important to watch the water, because bulbs can rot very quickly in a rainy and cold spell. Somewhere in the summer the watering should gradually decrease to a stop, leaves have to be cut off and bulbs stored in a dry place, for at least 2-3 months, to have a "winter". After that they can be watered again and the whole cycle begins anew.

Another big windowsill favorite these days are orchids, their long lasting blooms being a sure delight for a few winter months. For the fancy flower that they are, they are fairly easy to care for, at least the most common kinds (typical Phalaenopsis for example). Usually they get planted in a mix of a tree bark, charcoal and moss, proportion being something around 3:1:1, in a transparent, well draining pot. Often they are sold in various glasses or glass vases, but apart of the visual appeal that sort of approach is not practical at all. The water cannot drain from the bottom of a glass or vase, making it a huge hassle to water orchid in such planter, and if they get waterlogged, their roots rot away. One of the easiest ways to pot them is to use a random plastic bucket (from a dog food for example, or a storage plastic bins), drill plenty of holes on the bottom (it is easy to make holes in a plastic with a hot rod), and here we go, custom size orchid planter.

Orchids love humidity and warmth, but in the winter that sort of conditions in a normal home usually are achievable only around the heaters, with a big problem of planting mix drying out too quickly. One of the solutions is to put some florist foam in the pot, to have a source of water and nutrients, or place a bowl with water in between the pots, so it can evaporate and moisturize the air a bit. Orchids generally love to be sprayed or misted, and can be fertilized through the leaves. When they need watering, the common approach is to submerge their pots into a bucket with water for about 30 min, so the bark in the pots gets properly soaked. This procedure has to be done 1-2 times a week, depending on how big the pots are and how fast they dry. Also since the last year I also bring my orchids outside for the summer, they seem to like a bit of a fresh air in a dappled shade (they do not like bright sun, neither at home, nor outdoors). I hang their pots among clematis, or in the trees, mimicking their natural growing conditions; while it is not the most decorative sight (at that point they are not in bloom), it seems to be beneficial for them in general. Of course it is important to watch for the frost, and bring orchids inside way before they are in danger; after all, they are tropical plants and our early springs and late autumns are simply too cold for them.