2015 Chalet Farm Tour

Last September I was invited to tour Chalet's farm in Wisconsin. And what a treat that was! Chalet Nursery in Wilmette is among my favorite garden stops and a must see if I'm working along Chicago's North Shore. Not to mention that they've always been so gracious to show me around when I'm location hunting for my next magazine shoot.

The 183-acre farm is located a stone's throw from Lake Michigan in a bucolic corner of Southeastern Wisconsin. I climbed a small ridge to get the shot overlooking the never ending rows of trees and shrubs grown on the farm.

Our tour began on golf carts that took us down an old bridle trail through deeply shaded forest to our first (unintentional) destination. Chris, our tour guide and the farm's manager, was willing to humor me when I abruptly asked him to stop for this...

a puffball mushroom the size of a basketball! I was fascinated, having remembered these from woods walks with my dad, and struck with a bit of nostalgia for fungi. Our golf cart caravan unloaded and we all hovered over it like small children burning ants with magnifying classes. I couldn't resist the urge to say "Let's kick it!"

Ever wonder how large trees are dug and transplanted? Say hello to the skid steer and humongous spade. This beast wedges in around as much root space as possible before lifting the tree. A real back saver for farm hands!

Following the field tour, we ventured into the hoop houses where we got a taste of all the goodies yet to be introduced to the gardening community. A few stunners, like this Hydrangea paniculata 'Fire Light' from Proven Winners, really caught my eye. At the time this was shot in late September, the plant had been in full pink color for over a month! It has the same growth habit of Hydrangea paniculata 'Limelight.'

What's not to like about a tough-as-nails plant whose blooms emerge creamy white and age to shades of pink and red?

Chalet is a member of the Pollinator Stewardship Council, a national organization dedicated to the advocacy for and awareness of our vital pollinator populations, and treated us to a sampling of their honey harvest. The lighter honey was harvested in July and was no doubt the product of Spring ephemera. It had a delicate sweetness and somewhat runny consistency compared to its September-harvested counterpart. It's bold flavor and amber coloring was a result of the aster and goldenrod favored by the bees.

 

As the day waned, this unusual viburnum drew oohs and ahhs. Viburnum nudum 'Brandywine' is a fabulous example of a plant offering more than just a pretty face. White Spring blooms, followed by blue and pink berries in the summer and glossy maroon foliage come autumn makes this a winner in my book.

As we concluded our tour visiting several spectacular gardens designed by Chalet, this old shed caught my eye. It wasn't the lovely teal (my favorite color) paint, it was the moss-covered roof. A reminder that nature, when left to it's own devices, finds a way.

Uh-oh...

They just keep coming! These days the mailbox is a Pandora's box of goodies. Minus the bills and junk mail of course. Garden catalogs are the highlight of my day as I imagine the beauty that has yet to unfurl in my garden. And it will. Eventually. It's the hope for what my garden will be this year, even when my boogers freeze instantly in my nose on the first inhalation, that keep those creative juices flowing. I know, gross, but Chicago is wicked cold.

So as I dog-ear pages (that's Stella by the way in the catalog spread) and make my lists of new additions in 2016, and there are many, especially since I chose poorly early in my garden adventure and installed 'Hansa,' a beautiful rugosa rose with a spicy clove scent that grew too large for its space. My husband declared that he "Would not be replacing any more shredded screens this year." Which was code for GET THE ROSES OUTTA HERE. What was I thinking? 'Hansa' was lovely, but far too leggy for my small space garden. Here I was thinking I'll just prune them to shape every spring and it would all work out. Wrong. There's a reason why experts preach "Right plant, right place." You simply don't plant roses that want to be eight feet tall in front of windows that sit low to the ground. We've bought a lot of screen these last few years.

 

As the daughter of a police officer and now the wife of one, security always plays into my thought process when it comes to windows. A very vivid imagination (with a little touch of paranoia) of all the horrible possibilities that could come through those windows in the cover of darkness, resides in the darker parts of my mind. Ugh. I love the prickles of the rose for their less than welcoming attributes and their crinkled, toothy leaves. And the hips, well they're about the only hips where a woman would say with certainty bigger is better.  Roses are a lady's way of politely telling wannabe intruders, "Don't even THINK about it."

So Hansa will be replaced with a more diminutive, but equally prickly and beautiful rugosa rose, 'Fru Dagmar Hastrup.'

And now for what I did right...

  
After writing a story on succulents for The Old Farmer's Almanac, I've simply fallen in love with them. I found these interesting wall pockets at Marshalls last summer and filled them with blue senecio, my beloved Aeonium arboreum 'Zwartkop,' creeping jenny and a paddle plant that can barely be seen in the larger pocket. A milkweed, courtesy of a passing bird, found a home in the garden too. Monarch's need all the help they can get! My Peruvian daffodils were spectacular last year and are currently overwintering in my garage.

The patio was a favorite destination for my family and me, made all the more intimate and tropical feeling with the banana plant, agapanthus and a flowering Rose of Sharon that I started from a 6-inch cutting given to me by my mom several years ago. I planted it close to the house as a constant reminder of the beautiful woman who raised me. Say hello to handsome Hermes, who sprouted Proven Winner's 'Baby Tut' papyrus from his head. In years past, he's donned pig tails of pink and lime green ornamental oregano and was a pretty good sport about it. My husband hates him.

I'm a sucker for a grand entrance and this one was no disappointment. As I planned this space, I wanted something that popped in late summer/early fall. It's the west gate looking north from my backyard garden. Sweet Autumn clematis found its way across the arbor (with a little help). A word of caution about the clematis, this guy likes to seed freely. The spherical seed heads of Echinops ritro and Summer Beauty allium were left for not only their interesting shape but also for the finches who love to teeter on their stalks and feast.

The west side of the garden has been an exercise in scale and proportion and I can't seem to get it right. But that's the beauty of gardening. I can always tear out or transplant. While the 'Becky' daisies are lovely, they are far too leggy for this tight space and the white draws the eye more that I would like. Last fall, I ripped them out and replaced them with Coreopsis Big Bang Star Cluster, which I used in a magazine shoot with a softer white flower. We'll see how they fare. Heuchera 'Caramel' is just as scrumptious as the name implies. This work horse stays vibrant even in this exposed, wickedly hot location. It's particularly eye catching when the wind blows to reveal the amethyst undersides of its leaves. Stunning.

Funny how just when you think your garden is complete, you come to realize what a silly notion that is. You're never really finished. How dull would that be? It will remain a perpetual work in progress with new plants to try (and kill in some instances). You ain't a gardener if you haven't killed a few things!

Dig on my friends!