Welcome to the Dead Plants Society.†
Full disclosure: I have two “black thumbs” — I’ve managed (usually quite rapidly) to kill the plants in any and every planter we’ve ever had. Forty-two years’ worth!!! Ergo, there weren’t many pictures to choose from but yes, Terri, I do dare!
This is a scan of a photograph I took of my childhood home on Joy Drive, in the late 1960s/early 1970s. I used my Kodak Instamatic camera and Kodachrome film. The planters are all credit to Mum.
Meet Fargo! He lived in our garden at the house on Frei Street (Cobourg) and kept us entertained year-round with his distinct “personality” and very amusing antics. In this shot he is not “aiming” at the planter but at the metalwork angel, with which he was absolutely obsessed. To protect her from Fargo, Cam had screwed her base to the table. Still, he never seemed to tire of trying to knock her off. See? Antics galore!
The remaining images are all from our current home in Kingsville. I’m taking a wee liberty with three of my images — they’re technically in hanging baskets, not planters, but absent many choices…
In a renovation prior to us moving here, the owner had a planter built around our deck, and filled it with Black-eyed Susan (Rudbeckia hirta) perennials. Every summer they’re quite vibrant and pretty, but their true beauty lies in all the bees and butterflies that visit. This shot was taken from our balcony overlooking it:
When I was a young’un on one of my summer holidays in the UK, my uncle (who worked for Seaspeed) took me on the hovercraft from Dover, across the channel to Calais. The colour combination of yellow and blue was very prominent at that time in France — both in their gardens and their décor. Ever since I’ve always loved blue and yellow together. This is a hanging basket (sans the hanger bit) crammed full of beautiful Begonias. Interestingly, I did not kill these, the Grackles did. For some reason this plant was endlessly appealing to them and, slowly but surely, they came, took away bits and pieces, and eventually demolished our plants. Still, whilst they lasted…
We have a hook outside our kitchen window (in our courtyard garden) and, the first two years we lived here, I hung a basket of flowers on it. They never lasted. Despite watering properly each morning, they had both died by mid-July. We’ve not had one there since. But fortunately for me, right below the hook is an absolutely spectacular Pee Gee Hydrangea (Hydrangea paniculata) which, by late July/early August each year, has grown high and full enough to completely hide the hook. Karma? These are the first and only two baskets we bought:
Finally, my very favourite. Nostalgically. In our first five homes we had wood burning fireplaces. We kept an antique copper steamer beside them, in which we stored the wood. In our fifth home, we converted the fireplace to gas and our steamer became obsolete. Not knowing exactly what to do with it (by this time it had its fair share of dents, scratches, patina, etc.), my dear friend Anne came to collect it, took it back to her studio in Markham, and painted it for us to use as a planter. We’ve used it at all five homes since then.
This is an early spring planting — you can see that the plants (Begonias and Lobelias) have not yet spread — which affords a much better look at the steamer:
Thanks to the amazingness that is Terri for oh-so-imaginatively (and daringly) devising another floral challenge for us. Her post, narrative and images are all at least a country-mile better than mine so I strongly urge you to visit her post — it’s abfab, promise:
The Flower Hour #41: In a Planter
’Til next time, y’all…
†Tom Schulman. My riff on the title of his hit film “Dead Poets’ Society”.
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