My lifeblood is comprised of words, sentences, paragraphs, stories. I am definitely NOT a writer of “short” blog posts. But sometimes, I do have to defer to the photographs to tell a story. So today, you will be treated to mostly photos of our afternoon at the Ventura County Fair in Ventura, California. After years fighting the crowds, strollers and sticky run-ins with cotton candy at the King County Fair in Puyallup (Washington), I have to say how nice it is to take in a smaller fair with fewer bells and whistles. With the charming theme, “Homegrown and Pure-Bred,” Ventura’s is the perfectly-sized county fair. Of course, when you go on a Monday afternoon, you’re not going to encounter the weekend crowds. So we did.

What follows are my favorite images of the day. The fair continues through Sunday, August 16th. For details, click here:

RIDES TO THRILL

The giant slide. A ride down the track on a burlap sack couldn't be more fun. My son Alex is nearly prostrate, on the green slide; his friend Philip is racing down the orange one.

 JUST FOR LOCAVORES

A prizewinning Hubbard squash in the Agricultural Building caught my eye. I'm growing one in the garden, but she won't be this big for a while yet.

Turkey racing. Words cannot describe this silly event, but we loved it!

More turkeys, including the brown ones.

The "Floriculture" displays featured some outdoor gardens. Here's my very favorite: The "Flower Bedroom." I've seen planted beds before, but none as fanciful and well-executed as this one. Note the succulents spilling out of the dresser drawers, too!

A sedum armchair. Lush and fluffy. Makes you want to sink right in. I love that the lime green arms have been painted to pick up the bright foliage.

Lessons from a Low-Water Landscape and a Garden Evening with Friends

Back-lit by the late afternoon sun, the phormium glows in Stacie's front border

Last week’s Seattle visit included quite a bit of garden touring, and I feasted my eyes on some gorgeous places. One of my stops was to see fab designer Stacie Crooks, whose work has set a standard for sustainable beauty. Stacie and our friend Tina Dixon, also a widely published designer who specializes in container gardens, hosted a Garden Soiree for some of their gal pals. They were sweet to arrange the dinner around my time in town, ensuring that I got to see some of my very favorite women, including those shown here: 

Back row, from left: Tina Dixon, Nita-Jo Rountree, Gillian Matthews, me; Center row, from left: Janet Endsley, Wendy Welch, Kathy Fries, Marty Wingate; Front row, from left: Lorene Edwards Forkner, and Stacie Crooks

My article about Stacie and her husband Jon’s vibrant, textural garden appeared in the May 2008 issue of Seattle Homes and Lifestyles, accompanied by some pretty awesome photography by Allan Mandell. I have included the full text of that story below – it explains Stacie’s inspiring design philosophy and tells the story of how she created this very special place. I snapped a few photos at the party, to share with you here:

Wine and gold textures are lovely and drought tolerant

 

Stepping stones make it easy for Stacie to garden and lure visitors through the sea of foliage, blades and blooms. She uses punches of orange to brighten the scheme (Epilobium californicum 'Dublin' and Calluna vulgaris 'Firefly' are favorites)

 

A shady path in the back garden leads to an inviting fire pit and seating area

Debra in green, on the path

Colorful Adirondack benches, each painted a different color to match the foliage

 

A perfect end to an unforgettable evening with my garden friends

 

Water-Wise & Wonderful: Lessons from a lush, low-water landscape

Written by Debra Prinzing | Photographs by Allan Mandell

(May 2008, Seattle Homes & Lifestyles)

The rich palette of golden, green, burgundy and silver foliage plants thriving in Stacie and Jon Crooks’ Shoreline garden north of Seattle suggests that theirs is a well-pampered landscape.

But the opposite is true.

Stacie, owner of Crooks Garden Design, has transformed a sloping half acre into a harmonious tapestry of beds and islands that explodes with interest in every season. The design features trees, shrubs, ornamental grasses, succulents and perennials that are adapted to harsh conditions: western exposure, maritime gusts, poor soil and no irrigation.

That it’s also gorgeous offers an inspiring lesson to countless young designers and students who have taken Stacie’s classes through the Saving Water Partnership, a consortium of local water districts.

“Among our focus groups, there is a misconception that a water-wise garden is a bunch of unattractive natives, cactus and gravel, that it can’t be beautiful,” says Elizabeth Fikejs of Seattle Public Utilities, organizer of the Savvy Gardener workshops. “Stacie allows people to truly experience the water-wise garden in three dimensions,” rather than just seeing plants in photographs, she raves.

Having trained with painter William Cumming at Seattle’s Burnley School for Professional Art, Stacie spent several years working as a commercial artist before embracing horticulture as her preferred medium in the early 1990s. Her passion included founding a neighborhood garden club and joining the executive board of the E. B. Dunn Historic Garden Trust, an Olmsted-designed landscape where Stacie developed the education and docent program.

In 1991, Jon, Stacie (pregnant at the time with her second son, Trevor) and four-year-old Dylan, moved to a 1950s rambler in Innis Arden, a neighborhood overlooking Puget Sound. The half-acre lot and sweeping views were the property’s best features. “Because of its age and architecture, this house had teardown potential, but we worked with it,” Stacie says. Although overgrown rhododendrons and shrubs dominated the property, they saw the potential for creating a vibrant, new garden here

Stacie and Jon wanted to work within their resources and abilities. “We haven’t spent a lot of money and we’ve built the whole garden ourselves,” she says.

The landscape’s transformation has paralleled the growth of Stacie’s business, which designs residential gardens large and small. She tests plants and design ideas here before suggesting them for her clients’ gardens.

One hundred percent organic in her practices, Stacie challenged herself to transform the playground-like front yard into a textural tapestry. She did so, despite the vast lawn, western exposure, rocky soil, and almost twenty-percent grade change.

“I faced a lot of limitations with this project,” she admits. “But after one high water bill, I chose drought-tolerant gardening as a solution.”  Choosing tough-as-nails plants solved another challenge, as well: “There’s nothing planted here that can’t handle two boys, soccer balls, a Frisbee and a Jack Russell terrier named Rita. This isn’t a fussy garden.”

Stacie and Jon rented a sod-cutter, and removed and gave away the turf in their expansive front yard. They tilled up rocks and roots and incorporated 30 yards of organic planting mix to improve the native soil. Stacie borrowed extension cords from neighbors, laying out the shapes of her new planting beds to create a sinuous wraparound border that encompasses a 70-by-40 foot irregularly shaped island at the center (grassy strolling paths link the beds, allowing for people and pets to navigate the “circuit”).

Her artist’s eye looked beyond northwest native varieties to include plants adaptable to similar dry summer-wet winter growing conditions, regions considered “Mediterranean”: Australia, Chile, South Africa and countries on the Mediterranean Basin.

Sophisticated in its palette and overall composition, the garden uses a surprisingly ordinary selection of plants. Mostly evergreen varieties appear  and are often repeated, including wine-colored barberries, Viburnum ‘Davidii’, Osmanthus burkwoodii, dwarf golden false cypress (Chamaecyparis pisifera ‘Mops’), winter-blooming heathers, Euonymus fortunei ‘Emerald n Gold’, New Zealand flaxes, golden carex and Cotoneaster glaucophyllus.

“I choose colors I like – golds and burgundies,” Stacie says, likening her saturated palette to the medieval tapestries she loved seeing in Europe both as a student and later in the mid-1990s. “Plus, I am the texture queen.” As a designer, she is drawn to strong plant shapes that play off of each other. “I like to alternate spiked, round, lacy and layered forms. It’s like a puzzle that has to fit together.”

The garden gains architectural height and fluid movement from ornamental grasses like Miscanthus sinensis ‘Gracillimus’ and blue oat grass (Helictotrichon sempervirens). Joe Pye weed (Eupatorium purpureum ‘Gateway’), a long-blooming perennial, soars overhead. While foliage delivers volumes of color, flowers are strong accents. Planted en masse, low-water perennials punctuate the design, including purple coneflower, fire tail persicaria and show-stopping ‘Pikes Peak Purple’ and ‘Sour Grapes’ penstemon.

Last summer, this garden existed on minimal watering, Stacie says. “When temperatures hit 85-degrees, I finally turned on the water for a couple of hours at night and gave the roots a deep soaking.” But she resorted to this method only four times between May and October.

In addition to saving natural resources, the easy-care plants are compatible with Stacie’s busy schedule. Like many baby-boomers, she wants to enjoy, but not constantly tend to, her garden. “I’m choosing plants that can care for themselves and accommodating the space they require to reduce the need for any pruning.”

This philosophy has led to judicious editing out of a few perennials that require extra attention like deadheading and dividing. “As this garden matures, I’m using only low-maintenance perennials that have seasonal interest and great fragrance,” she adds.

Stacie takes comfort in knowing that her pioneering design philosophy is beginning to inspire some to try a different way of gardening. Dwindling water supplies and global warming may influence others. “Eventually, everyone will have to garden the way I do – they won’t have a choice,” she says.

Lucky for us, she proves sustainable can be beautiful too.

Seattle in June.

Blue skies, expansive views of water and mountains, blooming gardens, great friends.

Here are some photographs of two days in Seattle: Saturday and Sunday, June 27th and 28th:

The view from Ivar's on Lake Union: Seattle's skyline and the iconic Seattle Space Needle

My dear friend Lorene Edwards-Forkner was my dining companion, along with fellow Pacific Horticultural Foundation board members

Garden touring in the Seattle garden of Mrs. Alison Andrews

Here's that garden without people

 

My friend garden designer and writer Robyn Cannon joined me at the Andrews garden

Robyn's delicious salad with asparagus and a yummy fig wrapped in prosciutto - unforgettable!

 

Robyn and Don Cannon's oft-photographed Seattle hillside garden - inspiring and lavish

Elegant and cool, a splashing fountain in the heart of Robyn's garden

Stopped by my friend and garden muse Jean Zaputil's for a view of her beautiful herb garden

Here's the view from Betty Miller's house on a picture-perfect Saturday in June

Looking out the windows of the house that Betty Miller lived in until her death, I admired a perfectly-framed view of The Elisabeth C. Miller Botanic Garden, located in Seattle’s elite gated community, The Highlands.

Her garden, now a private, nonprofit botanical garden, is a sparkling palette of green-gold, lime, dark green and silvery-blue. Impressions: Touches of burgundy Japanese Maples appear, peeking through the multilayered branches of a mostly green woodland understory. Lichens and moss create irregular patterns on grey bark. Gentle mounds. Draping foliage. A shadowplay of bright and dark. Alluring. Inviting.

I spent all day indoors, at a Pacific Horticultural Foundation board meeting (thank goodness for “lunch break”) and I will be back tomorrow morning for yet another half-day of meetings. It’s a good group and we are excited about some of our new projects and plans for the essential publication for gardeners in the West.

If you want to take advantage of a special Pacific Horticulture magazine 5-for-the-price-of-4 issues subscription rate, let me know and I’ll send you a coupon ($28/year).

Work. It's "work," people. My fellow board members gathered outdoors before being dragged to the conference table

If you like the photos you see here, you can actually see this garden for yourself. There are two ways to tour the Miller Garden. First of all, call for a tour appointment. Tours are limited, due to the fact that the property is in a residential community. They also fill up fast (check the web site for details about early-in-the-year-registrations).

You also have the opportunity to take a class at the Miller Garden, offered through the Northwest Horticultural Society, ongoing education series. Check out their web site for details.

In preparation, enjoy this visual tour of Seattle in June. I’ll be posting photos of my travels here in the PNW (at the Miller Garden and in other awesome gardens) all week.

The Miller Garden is the quintessential Seattle garden. It is cared for by some very talented horticulturists, including my friends Greg Graves and Richie Steffen, along with many regular volunteers. I have wonderful memories of coming here to work on Northwest Horticultural Society projects with former director Richard Hartlage (who was president of NHS when I was editor of Garden Notes) and with his successor Carolyn Jones, who is a good friend and garden gal-pal. The Miller Garden is at the heart of the plant-obsessed Seattle gardening community. You’ll see why below.

Enjoy these awesome photos from today’s tour:

The layered, above ground, "no-dig," organic vegetable bed

Here’s a sneak peek at a story that I’ll be reporting for an upcoming issue of Organic Gardening magazine.

I stopped by Pat Marfisi’s house in the Hollywood Hills last evening to tour his unusual “no-dig” veggie patch and to say hello to Pat and my colleague Jack Coyier, who’s photographing Pat’s prolific garden for my piece.

I arrived around 5:30 p.m. The late afternoon light was beautiful and warm. Pat’s dog “VaBene” (Italian for “it’s going well”) came down the street to greet me, followed by his owner: A grinning face under a broad-brimmed straw hat; strong gardener’s arms, emerging from a soft green T-shirt; functional jeans and black sneakers. He was in his element with vegetables, soil, and a harmonic convergence of pollinating native bees darting around to their heart’s content.

With apologies to Jack, who with his camera was preoccupied with artistic portraits of young squashes and pole beans, I launched into “interview mode” with Pat. Every word that emerged from his mouth was inspiring – practically prophetic. This was just a meet-and-greet visit. It wasn’t supposed to be an interview. I grabbed my notebook and pen and started scribbling furiously to capture our conversation. 

His face hidden under a brim, Pat demonstrates the layering method

A central pathway cuts through the narrow garden with no-dig beds lining each side

Pat was profiled last summer in an article by Lisa Boone for the Los Angeles Times Home section. Willi Galloway, west coast editor for Organic Gardening, saw the piece and tracked Pat down to learn more about his unusual method of layering newspapers, alfalfa, straw and compost – with a bit of blood meal and bone meal stirred in – to grow edibles above ground. He plants straight into this towering medium, which is a good alternative to tilling up poor soil or back-breaking “double-dig” methods. As I was trying to understand the process, I jotted this explanation down on the page: He creates rich soil while at the same time grows food in it.  

When Willi asked me to interview Pat and write the article for Organic Gardening, I was thrilled! I remember reading Lisa’s piece when it came out and learning that this practice of sandwiching organic materials (some also call this the “lasagna” technique) was decades old. Pat picked it up during an early retirement trip to Australia and New Zealand, where he volunteered on organic farms. He’s refined the scheme in his own LA garden and now teaches it to schools and community groups. He’s a modern day vegetable gardening Pied Piper.

As I’ve mentioned here before, some people learn by reading or doing, but I tend to learn by writing about something. I fall in love with each tree or flower I find myself writing about. I become fascinated with a style, a material, a project as I craft the narrative piece that will be published and read by others. 

I suspect it will be the same when I learn more about Pat’s process of growing food with abundance – in a very small area with few resources, natural or physical. I can’t wait to actually write this story (after returning to spend more time with Pat), and to see how it turns out in print with Jack’s photos.

Until then, the photos you see here are some of my snapshots to illustrate what Pat’s up to in his few hundred square feet of level land on an otherwise very steep 1/5^th-acre urban lot.

A sculptural vegetable garden grows on a downtown Los Angeles rooftop

I wrote about Los Angeles’s gardens-in-the-sky in 2007, so when my chef-photographer friend Rico Mandel told me about a rooftop vegetable and herb garden that fellow chef Jonathan McDowell had been cultivating, I was excited to learn more. And to see it!

We grabbed a Starbucks and hopped on the freeway a few days ago to drive to downtown Los Angeles. On the way, I told Rico about an article I had just read in the January 2009 issue of Growing for Market, a journal for local food and flower producers. It was written by Marc Boucher-Colbert, a Portland sustainable farmer who created Rocket Restaurant’s rooftop garden with table-high steel planting troughs and 39 lightweight “kiddie” wading pools.

“Kiddie pools – how do you like that?” I asked Rico. “That’s cheap, lightweight and clever, isn’t it?” He silently chuckled to himself. Later, I understood why. Because what Jonathan had to show us was as far from a plastic wading pool as you could get.

Blue Velvet restaurant occupies the ground floor of a 10-story, 1960s-looking (but new) apartment building – all horizontal lines and clean facade. Jonathan met us in the parking lot and took us up the elevator to the top floor; we climbed a flight of stairs and emerged onto the roof.

Rico hinted about the totally unusual, sculptural design that contains Blue Velvet’s edible crop, but there was no way I could have envisioned the fluid, galvanized metal, Frank Gehryesque installation in front of me. What the . . . ?

"Gutters" hold trailing rosemary in a vertical wall system.

Turns out, this creation was fabricated on site to mold up and across a bleacher-like frame that hides HVAC units and other commercial rooftop paraphernalia.

It begins as a 10-foot vertical installation of long, horizontal channels – stacked almost like a wall of roof gutters. Many of the sections are planted with trailing rosemary. We marveled at the metal material. Even though Rico and I visited on a dreary, cool day in June, there’s no denying Southern California’s heat and sun effect. “Oh, well, this wall is north-facing, so at least it’s away from the most intense heat,” I commented.

“Wait until you see the rest of the roof,” Jonathan promised.

We walked a few yards across the roof, following that vertical wall of herbs, and I noticed how this “metal farm” took on kinetic qualities, wrapping over and around the “stuff” on the roof (and in the process, facing due south!).

Fluid, shaped metal planting channels hold veggies and herbs

To get an idea of how this scheme looks in person, take a sheet of paper from your printer and fold it back and forth every 1/2-inch or so. This is how we made paper “fans” when we were kids. Open up the paper slightly so there are V-shaped pleats. Now, imagine translating that texture to sheet metal. The V-shapes create long planting channels, about 4- to 8-inches at the deepest point. Sections of the metal, welded together every 18-20 inches or so, take form, twisting, bending and turning as a beautiful sculpture.

But for all practicality, in responding to this design as a gardener, I have to admit that a million questions flooded my mind. How can tender herbs, greens and vegetables handle this sun-baked, roots-against-metal, rooftop condition, especially in July and August when it is ugly-hot? Moreover, where was the irrigation?

Jonathan, who just completed a four-year stint at Blue Velvet (two years as sous-chef and two years as head chef), looked at me and shrugged. Although he wasn’t involved in the design of the “garden,” Jonathan was tasked with figuring out how to grow plants in it. That has meant filling those pockets and grooves with soil and planting veggies in an artful way. There’s no denying this is an evocative design. “It pleases the eye,” Chef Jonathan acknowledges. “It has attracted a lot of attention.”

But – duh. Every square inch of this garden has to be hand-watered.

“In L.A.’s restaurant gardens, freshness is grown to order,” a May 20th Los Angeles Times Food article, Betty Hallock featured Blue Velvet’s rooftop garden, quoting its designer, architect Alexis Rochas: “The point was to experiment with how to turn infertile ground into a fertile one,” he said.

Chef Jonathan McDowell and Chef-photographer Rico Mandel

That’s an admirable goal. But the experiment has revealed that plants here don’t thrive against metal, and the absence of drip irrigation – that could direct moisture straight to root zones – is a negative. I’m worried that those hand-watering duties will likely be neglected when the guys in the kitchen get super busy!

Metromix Los Angeles recently featured “rooftop gardens” in a trend report by Krista Simmons. She included Blue Velvet’s in-the-sky garden, calling it “a sweeping silver flatbed . . . strikingly similar to the Walt Disney Concert Hall.” Simmons points out that the garden doesn’t generate enough to sustain the restaurant, but adds: “. . . McDowell does use the produce for tasting menus, amuse bouches and specialty holiday events.”

I applaud the rooftop restaurant garden. It’s a great vehicle to bring the “seasonal, sustainable and local” concept from garden to plate. To succeed, however, Blue Velvet needs a retrofit. Maybe getting an irrigation specialist up to that rooftop will help. Ask a professional market farmer or gardener to consult on how to better grow and sustain these poor little plants – they looked pretty stressed out! After all, part of the sustainable equation is to work with nature and create a supportive growing environment so that plants are productive and bountiful.

More reading: INHABIT, a design blog

We turned off the irrigation and tried to "choke" out the grass. This technique is fairly effective...until winter rains arrive!

The traditional lawn-centric backyard is changing – for the better.

After a brutal buffalo grass removal process (that stuff refuses to die!), we’ve begun the transition to create my “dream” garden.

Gone are a dozen pygmy date palms and two gangly buddleia shrubs that never looked happy, even when they were blooming. Gone is 800 square feet of grass. Now we’re ready to install a low-water, Mediterranean and California native landscape in several border areas, planting beds and center “islands.”

In place of the turf, we’re spreading California Gold gravel. The material is about 3/8ths inch in size and has a mid-tone sandy gold color.

In the Pacific Northwest, if you were going to do a gravel garden, you’d use “quarter-minus crushed gravel,” but it would be from basalt; thus, it would be grey. Grey works under grey skies. Gold works under sunny skies.

Here’s how it arrived, yesterday:

httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j9UroPHg0U0

The thing I like about the California Gold (or any crushed rock medium) is that rain and moisture percolate through to the ground rather than running off into the storm water system. Plus, you can plant right into it, thereby softening the hard look of too much stone. It’s compact-able; thus, it’s not uncomfortable to walk on. I’m not sure how my dog, Zanny, is going to enjoy it, but luckily, we’ve left a few places around the side of the house for her to do her business.

I’ll keep posting more photos as we continue the journey!

Carina Langstraat's delicious planted wall

Green walls are the hot, new, must-have landscape design element. The Europeans were the first to figure out how to engineer large-scale planted walls, inspiring some innovative American designers to follow with their own twist. From my research, most are here on the West Coast, natch.

My friend Flora Grubb in San Francisco has received quite a bit of press for her avant-garde planted wall tapestries that incorporate everything from succulents to air plants (Tillandsias). 

And recently, the Los Angeles Times featured green wall designs using edibles (by Go Green Gardeners’ Anne Phillips) and California native plants + succulents embedded with LED lighting (by L.A. artist Michel Horvat).

HOW DID THIS TREND GET STARTED?

Garden writers have been describing “vertical elements” in the landscape for years. Traditionally, this idea involved arbors, trellises, fences and other structures upon which vines and climbing plants are trained. An explosion of interest in “green” planted roofs – including here in Los Angeles – followed. Pamela Berstler and Marliee Kuhlmann, two cool LA designers, create planted succulent “sky-scapes” for their clients’ garden roofs. I’ve seen, touched, and admired their work – and I can tell you, a lush, foliage-strewn roof is a lot more snazzy (and eco-smart) than tile, composite or tar!

But privately, some designers have confided to me their concern about liability issues involved in engineering green roofs. Even when I wrote on this topic for the Los Angeles Times in 2007, the experts I quoted cautioned that roof structures should be designed with load-bearing supports to manage soil/planting medium, handling moisture, and just the sheer weight of plants.

So, it’s only natural that the planted wall is the next installment of “plants-as-architecture” – a trend that seems more achievable than a green roof. I love seeing how designers are “going vertical” with a planted foliage palette.

THE WALL AS A PLANTING CANVAS

One of my favorite designers, Seattle-based Carina Langstraat (who runs Langstraat-Wood Landscape Architecture & Design with her landscape architect partner Erik Wood), has recently engineered a 4-foot by 5-foot green wall prototype at her Ballard studio. She shared with me photos and tips on how she created the system. It’s exciting to think about the possibilities, whether you’re willing to play around with this concept on your own or if you want to hire a professional.

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In preparing for a phone interview with prolific, bestselling author Amy Stewart to discuss her new book, Wicked Plants: The Weed that Killed Lincoln’s Mother & Other Botanical Atrocities, I came across a dog-eared manila folder in my office file drawer. Its label read “Emery’s Garden Monkshood.”

”]And immediately, I recalled my own brush with a “Wicked Plant.” Before sharing my Q&A with Amy, I will indulge in the tale of Autumn Monkshood, aka Aconitum carmichaelii ‘Arendsii’.

In the late 1990s, I worked for a wonderful specialty nursery in Lynnwood, Washington, called Emery’s Garden. I had recently left business writing and a nonprofit communications gig to embark on my “garden writer” journey. Lucky for me, the people at Emery’s took me in and our relationship there flourished. I wrote and edited “The Weedy Reader,” our quarterly newsletter. I planned and produced our educational program and special events. I basically learned the horticulture business, thanks to Emery Rhodes, Marlis Korber and Amy Tullis.

After I left Emery’s in 2000 (that’s when I joined the team of The Herald’s “Home & Garden” section in nearby Everett), I stayed in close touch with my Emery’s pals. One day, in April 2001, I received a panicked phone call from Marlis, the nursery’s general manager.

Turns out, a customer purchasing perennials pointed out some odd tags on the 6-inch containers of Monkshood (Aconitum). The tag read: “All parts of this plant are tasty in soup.” The shopper had filled one of Emery’s carts with her two toddlers and three pots of the mislabeled (and wicked) perennial. “I thought this stuff was poisonous,” she said to our sales associate. “But this label says it’s edible.”

Needless to say, a check in Sunset Western Garden Book revealed the exact opposite to be true. Under “Aconitum,” Sunset warns: “All parts are poisonous if ingested.”

What resulted was a mini-international scandal and media frenzy. The common Monkshood, which is a beautiful, tall violet-blue ingredient in the cottage border, is NOT a tasty ingredient for soup or stews. Instead, it’s lethal.

The ensuing drama played out as you might expect. I got to play the role of Crisis-PR consultant while Emery’s pulled all the mislabeled plants, contacted the grower (a Canadian nursery), and soon discovered that the label mishap had been a stupid prank pulled by one of the grower’s employees! Within 48 hours, we were visited by the FDA; the Canadian authorities got involved; the plant recall went out over the wires; television, radio and print outlets picked up on the story and came to report on the scare.

In the end, it was a bit of a wake up call for Emery’s (and possibly other local nurseries) about the importance of using proper signage and labeling of toxic ornamental and landscaping plants. But I wonder, did anything really change? It certainly elevated consciousness at one nursery, at least for one season.

Now, however, with the advent of Wicked Plants, the evils of ingesting the flowers, stems or leaves of Aconitum are coming back to haunt me. The perennial is, in fact, the very first entry of Amy Stewart’s charming and horrifying new effort, published earlier this month. Amy writes:

In 1856 a dinner party in the Scottish village of Dingwall came to a horrible end. A servant had been sent outside to dig up horseradish, but instead he uprooted aconinte, also called monkshood. The cook, failing to recognize that she had been handed the wrong ingredient, grated it into a sauce for the roast and promptly killed two priests who were guests at the dinner. Other guests were sickened but survived.

Her scary narrative explains where the perennial grows and what to look out for (gardeners should wear gloves anytime they go near aconitum, Amy advises). The page is labeled “Deadly.”

Wicked Plants, is a compendium of horrifying stories and historical facts of the botanical world. If you have any question as to the deadly, illegal, intoxicating, dangerous, destructive, painful and offensive traits of the trees, shrubs, perennials and herbs growing on our planet, you’ll want to peruse this powerful little volume.

Between the pages of Amy’s 5-3/4 x 7-1/4 inch, 235-page book, which is bound in the same sickly green worn on the face of the witch Elphaba in the musical “Wicked,” are tales of death, destruction, war and more. I recently had a chance to chat by phone with Amy, and here is part of our conversation:

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