Over thirty years ago, I moved to Chapel Hill from New York City.
One of the best reasons to live in the Carolina Piedmont is the month of November, a spectacular month in the garden – if you have planned it correctly.
Recently I received an e-mail from a gardening newsletter, recommending remontant roses – and this caused me to grumble.
A good friend recently grumbled to me that for a garden column, it indeed contained a lot of talk about Teslas, washlets, musical censorship, and the aches and pains of growing old.
Certain aspects of modern life are making me rather crabby.
I love the month of October in the garden as this is the time when the fall garden suddenly arrives.
The sad truth about gardening is that you are sometimes forced to confront garden pests and diseases.
Recently, Roger Rosenblatt, a truly lovely writer, wrote an op-ed piece in The New York Times, “The Art of Growing Old.”
I’ve written about this topic before and will undoubtedly do so again because I think it’s one of the most significant facets of gardening.
September can be a frustrating month in the garden as it transitions from a summer garden to a fall one.
I am becoming obsessed with reading garden catalogs correctly, partially because in the past I have made so many mistakes when ordering plants.
There comes a time when a particular aspect of the garden no longer works.
Fall is one of the two main seasons for introducing new plants to your garden.
It’s that time of year when we can again start thinking about installing plants in our garden, a time that gladdens a gardener’s heart.
I’m frequently asked why I go through this exercise every month.
In my imagination, I like to think that plants want to look as though they come from a nice family.
The garden tends to make me crabby in July and August.
It’s never too late to discover aspects of your personality.
Rarely am I accused of being up to date with modern practices, but today I’d like to point out that I’m actually ahead of the game.
Gardening in July in North Carolina is not for the faint at heart.
I have the perfect window in my kitchen where I grow many Phalaenopsis, commonly known as moth orchids.
Recently, my mind has been dwelling on the subject of invasive plants.
There are some garden truisms that simply defy logic.
The roses have passed their first—and, frequently, their main flush.
A dear friend of mine grows lots of special daylilies, many being varieties that I also include in my garden.
Recently, The New Yorker, had a long article on weeds that caused me to think about their continuing presence in our gardens.
Ever since I erected the wooden fence that wends its way around my property, I have had an urge to cover it.
I have a saying: Anyone can have a gorgeous garden in May in North Carolina.
Most of us at one time or another have had to deal with the vexing problem of middle-age spread.
After reading my article on Knockout rose, a reader emailed me the following: I do not love Knock Out rose. I love my hybrid teas. I love to arrange flowers.
In 2000, a landmark rose appeared suddenly in nurseries, beginning its rise to become the best-selling rose of all time.
The other day I brought along a garden catalog to while away the time spent waiting in a doctor’s office.
This month my favorite plants are a combination of those saying goodnight before settling down for a long sleep and those that have reawakened with a bang.
The longer I garden, the less I know about plants—it really is that simple.
I’m a curmudgeon when it comes to hellebores. Their non-stop promiscuity is tiresome.
As a woman of a certain age, I’m finding it difficult to be with it or as the French would say, au courant.
March is a fabulous month in the South whereas it’s cold, gray, and dreary in northern climes.
Nature has a way of confounding me at times.
One of the most overlooked attributes in the garden is the leaf.
One of the main motives to move to Chapel Hill is that it’s a splendid place to raise and nourish … camellias.