Greetings and salutations, everyone; yes, once again it is I, Mani the purebred border collie, filling in for the guy I live with, and here to spend time with you on the last hot day of the year. You may remember me from such posts as “Some Light, Some Dark”, among so many, many others.
Here I am in a characteristic pose.
Obviously, I was helping the guy I live with do his work in the garden.
The grass I’m next to is Sporobolus airoides.
The other day his neighbor asked if he could borrow a couple of cups of sugar and since the hummingbirds have left the guy I live with said yes and his neighbor came over and noticed how tall the desert willow had grown this year. Almost six feet.
It stopped flowering around the first of July because we didn’t get enough rain and he doesn’t water in this part of the garden, but the desert willow certainly enjoyed the heat. At least something did.
The guy I live with said people have come to the garden and then later said they didn’t think Chilopsis linearis (which is what this is) would be hardy here, and so he asked them what they thought they had walked under when they went to the front door.
What do people notice when they visit a garden? Some people who’ve come here have only noticed one plant.
He could write a book (but won’t) about the off-the-wall things people have said when visiting our garden, though people said nice things too, of course.
The weather people say today may be the last hot day of the year, and let me tell you, I totally and completely approve of that idea. The guy I live with said tomorrow could be a bit hot, and windy, as colder weather moves in, but still, I’m prepared.
We purebred border collies were bred to herd sheep around the border of England and Scotland, listening to the distant skirl o’ the pipes, in mist and drizzle, not roasting every single day. Which is why I like winters here.
The grass in the field has turned green again thanks to the rain.
You can see the tracks made by the mowing machine earlier this year.
He went to lunch with his friend yesterday, and lunch was very close to a nursery (he claimed that wasn’t planned) and so he bought some snowdrops.
These are Galanthus woronowii.
No, really, there are snowdrops there. The guy I live with potted them up and watered them so they’ll start to grow roots before they’re planted.
These are kind of ordinary snowdrops so they won’t be planted in pond baskets like the non-ordinary ones are.
He says the specific epithet is pronounced “vor-o-NOFF-ee-eye”, even though the name “Voronov” has the accent on the first syllable in real life, if anyone cares. I can’t say that I do.
He started switching to pond baskets when he discovered that some of the rarer snowdrops had rotted when grown in gallon nursery pots; there was a perched water table at the bottoms of the pots and that was that for the bulbs.
Now he uses smaller baskets:
These really helped during the Great Vole Invasion of last winter.
Also, with the baskets he can see where the bulbs are, which helps when he goes jabbing mindlessly into the soil with his sharp Swedish rock gardening trowel.
Since the guy I live with has been taking a break from social media, you’ll have to put up with all his obsessions here, on this blog, instead.
He went out to plant stuff and accidentally dug up a tiny cyclamen seedling. They’re all over the place and he expected this. He replanted it.

There are more crocuses in flower.
This is Crocus puringii:
This is Crocus xantholaimos:
Both of these used to be Crocus speciosus but they’ve been renamed as species.
This is Crocus hadriaticus, one of the saffron crocuses, though this one isn’t used for saffron.

And he noticed today what he thought was Crocus goulimyi ‘Mani White’. This is named after the Mani Peninsula in Greece, not for me, which I think is weird.
The guy I live with said that black thing is the edge of a pond basket.
The autumn-flowering crocuses do very well here, though the guy I live with has to put hardware cloth cages around the ones that have overwintering leaves, otherwise rabbits will just mow them down, which is a bad thing. I’m less interested in chasing rabbits now that I’m older. Maybe if I got paid I’d be more enthusiastic.
Speaking of off-the-wall comments, the guy I live with just raises his eyebrows when people around here say this is a “challenging climate”.
He said he had crocus in flower here on New Year’s Eve day, before my time. (They were Crocus ochroleucus if you wanted to know.)
Every climate has its challenges.
We can grow rhododendrons, heaths, witch hazels, bamboo, and so on. With a lot of watering of course. The guy I live with and his friend drove by a house where the front yard was nothing but bamboo.
There used to be a lot of rhododendrons growing here.
And we can grow cactus.
Some cactus came in the mail, from Ethical Desert. “Nicely-grown plants”, the guy I live with said, and potted them up.
These are cold-hardy cactus, so they’re going to be planted in troughs on the trough patio.
The guy I live with said the trough patio hadn’t had troughs on it for a long time and now it was about time to return to his late wife’s idea of a trough patio actually having troughs on it.
But they can’t be planted outside now. These were probably grown in a greenhouse, and even if they arrived in spring they would need time to harden off, otherwise the epidermis would sunburn badly, which could be fatal. And at this time of year a cold-hardy cactus needs to harden off before it starts losing water so the interstices of the cells don’t freeze and blow up the cactus.
The guy I live with has seen the aftermath of cactus blowing up in the garden. They don’t really blow up, I mean like explode, but the cell walls do, and it’s not a pretty sight, unless you like to look at green slime.
So these are going to spend the winter safely in the upstairs spare bedroom.
That’s all I have for today. There would have been more pictures of flowers, especially zauschnerias, but the pictures didn’t turn out. The guy I live with said the phone camera didn’t want to focus on red, or something.
I’ll leave you with a picture of me doing some intensive gardening.
I certainly know that it’s important to notice things when I make my rounds in the garden.

Until next time, then.
Is that Desert Willow, Chilopsis linearis? I think I gave that a go some years back but, as you can imagine, we don’t remotely approach desert conditions here so it was a short time only with me. Here, a storm has blown over and the ground is saturated – much more suitable for Border Collies.
We would like saturated ground here but that’s pretty rare except after a spring snow.
Yes, Chilopsis linearis. The guy I live with says to look at the old post “The Red One”. It was done before border collies took over the narration so isn’t as interesting.
Maybe the Chitalpa, chilopsis x catalpa, would do better. It isn’t as desert-looking, has larger flowers and leaves.
Six feet of growth—tremendous. I learned about Chilopsis from one of the guy you live with’s books, and planted one this summer. ‘Conchas Dam’ is now 3’ tall—grew about 6” since planting and, hopefully, lots of rooting happening—and may top out at 10’ tall, which works for this space. We had some beautiful blooms from it. I have only seen one Chilopsis in the nurseries I patronize, and I imagine it was the straight species, so I ordered this smaller type online.
Well the guy I live with says this desert willow is ‘Conchas Dam’, but he got it long before it had a name. It’s from the northernmost population in New Mexico, in San Miguel county.
It’s been here for 35 years at least, has taken everything Denver’s weather can throw at it. It did suffer badly in the November 2014 temperature drop; the guy I live with thought he had lost it, but it started leafing out the following August.
The next year it leafed out in July.
All desert willows are hardy here. They can be difficult to establish. He’s planted about ten of them since the first one and they all died within a year. They can leaf out very late even if with no huge temperature drop before winter.
Only the one now called ‘Conchas Dam’ exhibits predictve dormancy; the leaves turn yellow at the onset of cold weather.
There’s another one here from the Chisos Mountains in west Texas that exhibits consequential dormancy, the leaves just turn brown. But it’s been perfectly hardy here even though it had to be dug up when the sewer line was replaced.
Uh-oh. I may be in trouble if this plant gets much larger than advertised. But hopefully it will survive and I will have the size question to deal with as time goes on. Good to know about the late leafing out.
The guy I live with says our old desert willow is about ten feet tall by about eighteen feet wide, but that’s because snow splayed the branches.
It can probably be shaped with pruning.
Incidentally its leaves are turning, but the leaves on the one from Texas (from much farther south) a few feet away, are still green.
We’re glad the weather is beginning to cool off but then again, we’ve been over the heat since July. Enjoy the cold front moving in-hopefully there’ll be a bit of moisture with it. 🤞🏼
Well, at least there was wind, and it is cooler now.
The guy I live with said you’d have to drive to Laramie to see the rain.