Traverse City Record-Eagle

Dee Blair: The View From Sunnybank

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April 14, 2008

The View from Sunnybank: Don't panic

BY DEE BLAIR

I'd love to pick apart a plant or two with you occasionally, but you must promise not to panic when I trot out alien names.

Attach this motto to your fridge: "Be a Latin lover!" Besides making you grin, it'll remind you that you CAN master this stuff.

We can't manipulate Mama Earth to our advantage yet, so lets venture into esoteric gardendeegookia, just for fun.

There are zillions of people named "Sam," but no one is named Samplunkia kadeedlehopPERia. That's his Proper name. We can't mix him up with that guy down the street named "Sidewinder Sam," or "Sam the Man" at the bar. People KNOW who you want. At nurseries, the staff will know exactly which beauty to fetch when you trot out a plant's full Latin name, then, incidentally, the common one. No chance of delivering the wrong Sam. Everyone's on the same page.

Why Latin? Because it's stone dead (Read: "Won't evolve, ever," even 1,000 years from now). It's the ideal language for labeling. Gardeners on every continent will understand you.

Good news; you've already mastered words like delphinium, narcissus, lobelia; master one more.

Aristolochia macrophylla. That's Ah-ris-toe-LOCK-ee-a. Rolls off your tongue, doesn't it? If you haven't run for cover yet, and will please stop laughing, let's bumble on.

The first time I beheld this word, I gargled a protest. WHAAAT? But, controlling my rolling eyes, I did my best to memorize those outrageous syllables. Now I trot smugly into nurseries, and confidently grease it out, impressing ME all to pieces. Not to mention staff. Best of all, I KNOW what's whatia. (I once popped into a local garden center, wanting "cotton -- easter." Nice try, but Wrong. It was "Ca-TOE-nee-ass-ter!" Cotoneaster. Got it!)

Now, Aristolochia -- (SAY it!) -- is interesting. This vigorous vine twines up trellises, or arches, displaying heart-shaped leaves that get bigger every day. For romantic gardens, it's perfect.

More intriguing, though, are the tiny Sherlock Holmesian meerschaum pipe-flowers shyly hiding under those rich, green leaves. You'd never suspect they're there.

It's comfy in partial shade to part, or even mostly sun, with reasonable soil, regular water and a lick of food, it grows lengthily every season. (I whack it short every early spring.) It mingles with CLEMatis terniflora, a vine that blooms in September. (Bulletin: Bugs ignore both.)

Got a computer? Go to "Google." Type in "Aristolochia macrophylla." (Note: The second word's not capitalized. Notice how I sneakily manipulate you to write it?) Bang on the second listing. Up pop photos, plus lots of fascinating dirt.

Lately, Aristolochia has revealed an annoying tendency. Sneaky fingers ooze into other beds, far from the "main frame," winding around surprised plants; I sever these extra arms, hoping they'll retreat. This snoopiness developed only after eight years' residency. Avoidance is easy. Sever stray tendrils early.

Examine "Aristolochia" again. It sniffs of "aristocrat." (Wasn't Holmes ratha snooty?) Look again at "macrophylla." Macro equals BIG. Phy(rhymes with pie)lla equals leaf. "Macrophylla" pops up often as a second Latin name, sorta like 'Smith.' So it's important to know the first one. (An example: 'Hydrangea macrophylla' equals Big-leaf Hydrangea.)

A plant's name often offers "care" clues. (HYDRAngea loves water.)

Are you still with me?

Aristolochia's "pet" name -- (PROMISE not to cleave to it, chucking the proper one) -- is "Dutchman's pipe." Yeah, I know. What's "Dutchman" got to do with Holmes? I dunno. Just focus on the pipe -- whatever helps you remember.

So. Find MY Aristolochia this summer; you have the clues. Get acquainted, and go home, smug. You're wiser today -- always a good thing.

Dee Blair has cultivated her English secret garden at Sunnybank on Sixth Street in Traverse City for 15 years. Open to visitors in season, the garden is now closed. She can be reached care of the Record Eagle, or via e-mail at blairdee@gmail.com. Also, see her blog, which often elaborates on columns, at blogs.record-eagle.com.

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  • CSSE1B4.jpg
    View From Sunnybank: 3-day gremlin fest

    Gremlins haven't irritated me for ages. For months I've managed to hold on to my pruners and gloves. Every day I'd shelf them and they'd still be there when I needed them. Bliss. Alas, three days ago I set the pruners down and ran to answer the phone, and — you guessed it. When I tried to retrieve them, they'd gone. I searched for 30 minutes, but I knew. Those tiresome house gremlins had obviously returned from wherever they'd vacationed, armed with new, shocking ways to thoroughly rumple my composure. "You just thought you set the pruners there. You are absent-minded," readers may say. Yeah, I am. But wait. I'm just warming up.

    Continued ...
    Jul 17, 2011 7:14 am 1 Photo
  • View From Sunnybank: Overweight to just pudgy
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    The weather's been unusually cold, so a week ago I trudged up to the (normally summer-hot) attic again, determined to relieve it of more weight. My firm rule: If an object hadn't been used in a long time I'd make someone else happy by selling it for a very reasonable price. Goal: Lose the weight, and the dust the tonnage was gathering, and gain the enormous satisfaction of knowing my children won't have to face "fat attic" syndrome when I pop off.

    Continued ...
    Jun 26, 2011 7:14 am 1 Photo
  • The View From Sunnybank: A mute mallard
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    I spent yesterday afternoon removing mountains of finished forget-me-nots from my flowerbeds. A sitting duck is in my bin. Should I pluck him out? Was he chilling after a fowled relationship? He's an odd duck.

    Continued ...
    Jun 19, 2011 7:14 am 1 Photo
  • The View From Sunnybank: Pondering fur coats
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    The Cherryland Humane Society is dangerously close to dying of monetary starvation. Lately, donations — its lifeline — have been way down. I love that organization. Once, many years ago, the humane society rescued Fred, an abandoned 8-week-old puppy who was a beautiful combination of cocker spaniel and collie. They scrubbed him clean, wormed and inoculated him, then tied a tiny red bandana around his neck. We were chosen, actually, as he sat on the cement floor and studied us with a long, quiet look I got to know very well.

    Continued ...
    Jun 12, 2011 7:14 am 1 Photo
  • View From Sunnybank: Diary of delights
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    Anyway, I'm zipped into my faded blue, long-sleeved overalls, purchased 20 years ago when I was learning flowers. They're made for a man, so I slog around with rolled up pant legs (which collect and save dirt) and paint-spattered sleeves.
    My hands are, of course, ruined. Gone are my winter nails, and the clear polish that made them gleam.
    It's still chilly out here so my nose tends to run, so I absently wipe it, leaving weed-flecked black facial streaks.
    Mustn't forget my feet. My blue Wellington boots have a long rip near the toe because — well, I don't know why.
    The only thing clean and reasonably white are my teeth, which show most of the time. I love this life.

    Continued ...
    May 29, 2011 7:14 am 1 Photo
  • Sunday, May 22, 2011
  • View From Sunnybank: Sensible musings
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    I'm on familiar ground again, back from visiting Utah's world-class, half-mile deep canyons in arid, tree-sparce country. Here in Traverse City a moist breeze is teasing our street's avenue of maple trees. Their infant leaves, still curled, will unfold and grow at an astounding rate when rain soaks the land. Their rebirth every year is one of my favorite sights. And recently, I woke abruptly in the deep night to a persistent, alien noise. Someone was probing our locked screen door, hoping to reach, and breach, the double-bolted front door. There were protracted jiggling sounds, then silence. By the time we got downstairs the frustrated invader had melted into the night. We saw nothing, but there was no doubt about what we'd heard.

    Continued ...
    May 22, 2011 7:14 am 1 Photo
  • Sunday, May 15, 2011
  • View From Sunnybank: Dead Horse Point
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    The 5,000-acre Dead Horse Point State Park was a hop-and-a-skip away, and its peculiar name commanded attention Thirty minutes later a young park ranger cheerfully sold us a pass for 10 bucks and waved us on. "Brace yourselves, folks." Hmmm. This peanut-sized park couldn't be as riveting as Arches — could it? Ignoring the ground-hugging building we trotted along the short sandstone path to the Point's tip — then stopped dead, shocked into silence. Before us was a 300-million-year-old vista that paralyzed the senses.

    Continued ...
    May 15, 2011 7:14 am 1 Photo
  • Sunday, May 8, 2011
  • The View From Sunnybank: Twisted silver, gold
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    The Utah Juniper gets twisted, but it doesn't waste energy whining: it's learned to adapt, and often lives more than 500 years, in practically non-existent soil, 5,000+ feet above sea level, under intense (115-degree) summer sun, with very little rain, in winter's sub-zero conditions, and oh, yes, battered by excoriating winds that would kill, quicker than instantly, every tree or bush that lives practically anywhere else. Seeds that manage to establish a foothold in this environment often mature to more than 10 feet high and wide.

    Continued ...
    May 8, 2011 7:14 am 1 Photo
  • Sunday, May 1, 2011
  • View From Sunnybank: Moab's madness
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    We're in Moab, Utah, to hike the magnificent Arches National Park, just north of this town of about 5,000 people.
    Two days after our arrival Moab's suddenly crammed with visitors. At least 4,000 participants and 1,400+ registered jeeps have hit town for the 45th annual Jeep Safari Festival, which lasts nine days, ending Easter Saturday evening. Children hang out car windows hooting as they head to reserved campgrounds and motels. Everyone attending this family-oriented event is eager to test their skills, and their jeeps.

    Continued ...
    May 1, 2011 8:52 am 1 Photo
  • Sunday, April 24, 2011
  • View From Sunnybank: Utah's revelations
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    Yesterday, from well before dawn to 6:58 a.m., Joe and I watched the earth move.
    We're in Moab, Utah, (maybe twice as large as Elk Rapids) for a week of hiking in Arches National Park, five miles north of town. It's located on the spectacular 130,000-square-mile Colorado Plateau, which contains the greatest concentration of national and state parks, national forests and wilderness areas in this nation.
    We woke yesterday at 4:30 a.m., dressed warmly and drove into the park, ascending to over 5000 feet above sea level. A spot near a sheer drop provided an excellent place to star-gaze and observe the sunrise. We were alone. Immense sandstone cliffs and towering bluffs were silhouettes in the blackness behind us. The heavens were simply crammed with diamonds. No city lights diminished their glory.
    The silence was profound.

    Continued ...
    Apr 24, 2011 7:14 am 1 Photo
  • Sunday, April 17, 2011
  • View From Sunnybank: Odd souls
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    Editor's note: Dee Blair is off on an adventure that she will write about soon. Meanwhile, this column originally ran in 2006.
    Sunnybank Garden welcomes many visitors. Sometimes, though, I encounter some truly strange folks.
    One spring morning a few seasons ago an elderly lady visited. She moved confidently along the path, her bulky, expensive coat enveloping her small, slightly bent body, her white hair a halo of soft waves that framed her face in the spring sun.
    I watched with astonished fascination as she opened her coat (baggies were arranged in rows along the front interior panel) to gently insert each cheerful little annual flower, dirt and all.

    Continued ...
    Apr 17, 2011 7:14 am 1 Photo
  • Sunday, April 10, 2011
  • The View From Sunnybank: Soupy science
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    Here's the first column (slightly tweaked) that I ever published, in 2005. As soon as the temperature remains consistently warm, consider these three recipes again. I bet your plants will respond as well as mine do. Most plants thrive on good dirt, and good food, even if some of it stinks. Here are three practical potions that have always produced excellent results for me.

    Continued ...
    Apr 10, 2011 7:14 am 1 Photo
  • Sunday, April 3, 2011
  • The View From Sunnybank: Savannah spice
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    In just under two jet-hours, we'd exchanged our freezing Michigan winter for Georgia's oh-so-southern springtime charm. Everyone, even street cleaners, had an endless supply of genuine smiles. We felt welcomed, accommodated, and coddled, by even the pedi-cab guy.

    Continued ...
    Apr 3, 2011 7:14 am 1 Photo
  • Sunday, March 27, 2011
  • View From Sunnybank: Southern comforts
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    A hundred years ago the vigorous Savannah River was barely 10 feet deep. Dredging is constant, happening even as I scribble this.
    A lady wearing a crooked blond wig, jeans and a light coat, and toting a teacup-sized dog, plopped down next to us. Her pop-eyed pal, wearing a teeny shamrock-green sweater, curled his lip at me and snarled. His chatty owner, oblivious, settled in.
    Savannah food's marvelous. Seafood just doesn't come fresher.

    Continued ...
    Mar 27, 2011 7:14 am 1 Photo
  • Sunday, March 20, 2011
  • View From Sunnybank: Savannah Gumption
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    We stood alone under one of these ancient oaks, at a bus stop by Chippewa Square, next to the country's oldest working theater. Suddenly, a man whose voice I knew well said, clearly, "Hello, I'm Forrest — Forrest Gump." For the second time in 48 hours, Joe and I had seamlessly interfaced the Twilight Zone.

    Continued ...
    Mar 20, 2011 7:14 am 1 Photo
  • Sunday, March 13, 2011
  • View From Sunnybank: Surreal coffee break
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    We've flown the coop! Joe and I are in Savannah, Ga. Plane tickets (out of Flint) were cheaper than dirt, the flight took less than two hours, and we arrived here just after noon, for some sun and fun. But actually, our adventure began early this morning, at a Michigan McDonald's.

    Continued ...
    Mar 13, 2011 7:14 am 1 Photo
  • Sunday, February 27, 2011
  • View From Sunnybank: Jeepers creepers

    Gremlines routinely mess with my appliances. But one summer morning, they pulled the ultimate disappearance, a spectacular coup.

    Continued ...
    Feb 27, 2011 6:14 am
  • Sunday, February 20, 2011
  • View From Sunnybank: Sinking feeling
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    Writer Bill Bryson's friend, an archaeologist, explained to Bryson that England's churches were sinking. Its churchyards were rising. "A country parish like this has an average of 250 people in it, which translates into roughly 1,000 adult deaths per century, plus a few thousand more souls that didn't make it to maturity. Multiply that by the number of centuries that the church has been there and you can see that what you have here is not 800 or 100 burials, but probably something more on the order of, say, 20,000."

    Continued ...
    Feb 20, 2011 6:14 am 1 Photo
  • Sunday, February 13, 2011
  • The View From Sunnybank: Catty lessons
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    Cat antics amuse throughout the colder months. A well-trained human is the perfect foil for a crafty feline. Then there's reading, including "The Definitive Wit of Winston Churchill," with droll comments regarding even more animals.

    Continued ...
    Feb 13, 2011 6:14 am 1 Photo
  • Sunday, January 30, 2011
  • View From Sunnybank: Excellent adventure
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    In early December, (over)fed up, I dragged myself kicking and screaming to White Tiger Kung Fu headquarters on Eighth Street. I'd passed this place countless times walking to the library, but had never investigated. I imagined instructors doing a lot of army-style yelling. I'd certainly yell back, and get booted out. Also — not to put too fine a point on it — being flung around for fun put me off, too.) Would it be like those Bruce Lee films, featuring flying karate-bodies?

    Continued ...
    Jan 30, 2011 6:14 am 1 Photo
  • Sunday, January 23, 2011
  • View From Sunnybank: Input-starved minds
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    I'm nestled in my favorite chair, watching firelight create interesting shadow-pictures on the walls. They make me reflective. What a year it was! One memory remains particularly vivid. I lived in England for the first half of 2010, to be near David, my late mother's English husband, who'd had a stroke. (He died in August.) Last February he was temporarily transferred from huge Hereford County Hospital to a small facility 40 minutes away, because Ross Community Hospital, much closer to home but plagued with a virus, needed disinfecting from top to bottom. That done, David would be transferred. Meanwhile, I motored to this faraway facility.

    Continued ...
    Jan 23, 2011 6:14 am 1 Photo
  • Sunday, January 16, 2011
  • The View From Sunnybank: Lost in space
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    On Monday morning, Jan. 3, at 4 a.m., I left Saginaw, where I'd rung in the New Year with my husband, Joe. I had an important 8 a.m. appointment in Traverse City, and so allowed plenty of extra time, just in case, though the Weather Channel predicted only a few scattered flurries and light wind — nothing to worry about.

    Continued ...
    Jan 16, 2011 6:14 am 1 Photo
  • Sunday, January 9, 2011
  • View From Sunnybank: Service, firelight
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    Bring on a blizzard, with a wind that freezes my thermal-undies and steals my breath away — followed by icy silence. Bring on fluffy deep powder that smothers every sound.

    Continued ...
    Updated Jan 15, 2011 4:44 pm 1 Photo
  • Sunday, January 2, 2011
  • The View From Sunnybank: Bigfoot bumpkins
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    After our friend's splendid wedding in Phoenix, we flew home to snowy Traverse City. Joe and I needed an outdoor adventure to more fully appreciate our winter wonderland.

    Continued ...
    Jan 2, 2011 6:14 am 1 Photo
  • Sunday, December 26, 2010
  • View From Sunnybank: Exaggerated glories
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    Last week Joe and I flew to Phoenix to an exclusive, Asian-style spa/resort to attend our friend Ron's Christmas wedding there. Tree trunks were wrapped in lights; huge cacti twinkled from top to bottom.

    Continued ...
    Updated Jan 5, 2011 9:46 am 1 Photo