A person who has the blues is sad, but a garden that has the blues is joyous. Yellow flowers cheer me up and make me smile, but blue flowers create a much deeper feeling of joy and serenity. Recently, Kiki at Awake with Charm and Spirit published a wonderful post on The Color Essence of Blue and then followed up by issuing a Blue Essence Invitation to other bloggers. This is my response to that invitation.

Blue flowers dominate my garden in June, when the siberian irises bloom. These blooms reflect one of the things I love most about blue flowers, the incredible range of shades and intensity of blues available.

In this photo, the pale blue of Iris sibirica ‘Superego’ in the front, is combined with the deeper blue of I. sibirica ‘Tiffany Lass’ (right rear) and the more violet blue of an old fashioned siberian iris (maybe ‘Caesar’ or ‘Caesar’s Brother’) at the left rear.

And look at the extraordinary aqua blue in the interior of this iris.

But even when the siberian irises are done, there are many other blue flowers in the garden to bring me joy.

Tradescantia ‘Zwanenburg Blue’ and geranium ‘Brookside’ bloom continuously for most of the season here.

In July and August, the tall blue spires of delphinium grace the back of the blue and yellow border,

… and Platycodon ‘Sentimental Blue’ spills onto the back steps.

In the fall, if I’m lucky, I can drink in the ‘Heavenly Blue’ of morning glories on the garden fence.

I have noticed that some of my blue flowers are temperature sensitive. In the morning, especially if the overnight temperatures have gotten down below 50 F, they will be an intense electric blue, turning more violet blue as the day heats up. This is true of Tradescantia ‘Zwanenburg Blue.’ An even more dramatic example of this effect can be found in Phlox paniculata ‘Blue Paradise;’ this flower will change color from an eye-popping intense blue on cold mornings to an equally eye-popping hot pink by late afternoon when the sun is shining on it. (Unfortunately, I have no photos to show this color transformation because, for the past two seasons, the resident woodchuck has eaten ‘Blue Paradise’ before it could bloom. )

So many people responded to my photo several weeks ago of a big pile of wood waiting to be stacked (The Colors of Autumn), that I thought I’d give you an update. Today, I finally finished stacking the wood, 5 cords in all, to heat my house through the Maine winter (with a bit left over for next year).

I am more of a turtle than a hare, so I just kept plugging away at it, putting in about 1-2 hours each day, with interruptions for visits to my mother in Rhode Island, plumbing problems, septic system construction, etc.

Just as I was about to congratulate myself on finally getting this job completed, I heard what sounded like a very large motorcycle without a functioning muffler roaring up my driveway at a high rate of speed. It was really the sound of this section of woodpile beside the driveway falling down. (All of these woodpiles are taller than I am, and as I work over the top of my head, it gets harder and harder to keep stacking the wood level and straight – with this result.)

It will take about 5 hours to restack this, but I’m not going to do it right away. Some of it can go into the rack by the woodstove, so the pile won’t be so high. The rest will have to wait while I get back to all the other fall chores I’ve been neglecting:

… getting hoses disconnected and taken in for winter,

… getting the rest of my siberian irises cut back so that the iris budfly has no place to winter over (see Battling the Iris Budfly),

… and getting the screenhouse on the deck taken down before it gets snowed on.

 

Regular readers of this blog already know about my recent septic system problems (It’s Always Something). When the gentleman who pumped out the septic tank broke the news to me, he explained that there were two possible causes for the tank not draining properly. If I were lucky, I would get the good news that the problem was simply a clogged pipe from the tank to the distribution box and this would involve the relatively small expense and disruption of digging up and replacing the pipe. But, he warned, I might get the bad news that the leach field was no longer working properly; and this would involve the much greater expense and disruption of digging up and replacing the entire leach field.

The gardeners reading this will not be surprised that my view of good news and bad news was different from that of the septic tank servicer. Replacing the pipe might not be expensive or require much digging, but that excavation would include at least one flower bed (maybe two) and a big section of my back walkway.  While replacing the leach field would be much more expensive and involve digging a much larger area, that area is all outside the current boundaries of my garden. I don’t think I’m the only gardener who would rather spend a big chunk of money than have to dig up flower beds and hardscape that took years to create!

I have now received the bad/good news. When the excavation contractor dug up the distribution box (which amazingly turned out to be located just outside the fence border), he found the “bad news” problem that the leach field is exhausted and will have to be replaced. Yesterday, the septic designer came, laid out the “footprint” for the new leach field, and declared that the tank and pipe would not have to be replaced. I was elated to hear that the solution to my septic system problems will be expensive but minimally disruptive to my garden! As an added bonus, the new leach field is being designed with a larger capacity to accommodate a new master bedroom and bath that I’ve been wanting to add.

Although the area to be excavated is outside my existing garden, providing access to that area will necessitate some garden disruption. A 6’ section of garden fence (closest to the distribution box and leach field) has had to come down for now, and some shrubs that separate the clothesline area from the area for the leach field will have to be moved temporarily. As an added precaution, I’ve removed all the plants I just planted in the fence border a few weeks ago to a temporary location on the other side of the house to keep them out of harm’s way.

As I report this good (according to my garden logic) news, I also want to take the opportunity to thank all the Blotanical friends whose support helped get me through the past week. I was amazed by the outpouring of sympathy and encouragement in response to my earlier post. Anna’s expression of sympathy made me feel less alone with this problem; Nell injected some much-needed humor into the situation; Deborah and Ellen commiserated by sharing some of their own “It’s Always Something” experiences; Praveshree, Grace, Amy and Teresa offered calming philosophical perspectives and Stopwatch Gardener even recommended a book for times like this. Several blogging friends complimented me on my walkway (Deborah, Grafixmuse, Rosey, Stopwatch Gardener) or my attitude (Noelle, Grace), and some (Mary Delle, Teza, Jim, Sylvana) offered hope that this disruption would provide the impetus for creating an even more inspired garden. Many years ago, someone gave me a plaque with the words “Friendship doubles our joy and divides our sorrow.” By that standard, Blotanical has proved itself a community of true friends. Thank you all!

Since the Honest Scrap Award has been spreading through the Blotanical blogging community faster than the H1N1 flu has been spreading through Maine, I figured it was just a matter of time before it caught up with me. But I wasn’t prepared for the double whammy of being hammered honored twice in the same day.

For any readers who are unfamiliar with it, here are the rules of the Honest Scrap:

1. Brag about the award.
2. Include the name of the blogger who bestowed the award on me and link back to the blogger.
3. Choose a minimum of seven (7) blogs that I find brilliant in content or design.
4. Show their names and links and leave a comment informing them that they were prized with Honest Weblog.
5. List at least ten (10) honest things about myself.

I was chosen for this award by both Sarah at Madblooms and GrafixMuse at GrafixMuse’s Garden Spot. These two bloggers represent much of what I love about the Blotanical community. Sarah gardens in a very different climate from mine and her blog often includes wonderful photos of and information about plants that I’ve never heard of before. By contrast, I am very familiar with GrafixMuse’s gardening conditions, since she gardens just a few miles away from me, in the next town over. She is one of several delightful Maine neighbors that I probably would never have “met” if not for Blotanical. In honoring me with this award, both mentioned the warm welcome they got from me when they joined Blotanical, which just goes to show that virtue is rewarded — or that no good deed goes unpunished.

I’ve decided that being doubly honored doesn’t mean that I have to double up on everything else. And, in choosing my honorees, I’ve decided not to worry about who has and has not already been honored with the Honest Scrap:

• The Galloping Gardener, who has already added so many “must visit” gardens to my list that I’m not sure I can get to all of them in one lifetime.
• Allan Becker – Garden Guru, who grows plants that I can grow and always goes back to follow up on how well his recommended plants worked out.
• Wisteria and Cow Parsley, which I love for the photos, for the vivid descriptions of “Tumbledown Farm,” and for the cats with personality (felinality?) and attitude.
• Green Theatre because I learn so much from Deborah’s design sensibility and because she’s just such an all around nice person.
• Liz and the Professor, especially the posts that showcase Scott’s talent for comic writing.
• Elephant’s Eye, for introducing me to a gardening world so different from my own.
• Baneberry Garden Blog for such useful information about gardening in conditions so like my own.
• Plant Tips and Guidelines for the Desert Garden, where I learn something new and valuable almost every day.

Okay, now for the “ten honest things” part:

1. I am much more of a word person than an image person (in case you hadn’t already figured that out!!).
2. I’ve loved flowers from an early age and can remember spending long hours at age 9 using a protractor to cover many large sheets of paper with meticulously drawn and colored daisy-like flowers.
3. My spatial reasoning skills are so bad that I have to plan out my flower beds on graph paper.
4. I’ve not necessarily been known for my intuitive sense of design. In 9th grade, I had the dubious distinction of making a poster for my favorite candidate for student council president that was so ugly the candidate refused to use it.
5. I did not set out to paint just about every room in my house some shade of yellow and only realized I had done so when I counted 11 partially used cans of yellow paint in different shades and finishes. But who can resist a color that comes in shades like Sunshine, Moonlight, and Butter?
6. I am obsessive about plant names and labels.
7. I am an obsessive garden record keeper and have a color-coded spreadsheet that shows what was in bloom in my garden every week during the garden season since 2003.
8. Since I started this blog, I have become obsessed with blogging. (Are you noticing a theme here?)
9. I am a sociable person, but I also have very high needs for solitude and love both living and traveling alone (which is good because all that obsessiveness can be hard to live with).
10. I don’t actually enjoy working in the garden that much; what I love is lounging in the garden on a mild summer day enjoying the results.

I had intended for this to be a post about peonies, but events overtook my intentions; and the line that the late great comedienne Gilda Radner chose for the title of her memoir, It’s Always Something (Simon and Schuster, 1989), pretty much describes my feelings. This has definitely been an “it’s always something” sort of year.

When January rolled around, I was happy to be done with 2008 and looking forward to 2009. I was near the end of a stressful three-year term as chair of my academic department, my department’s disruptive exile to trailers during radon mitigation was almost over, and, to make it all sweeter, I was due to begin a one-year sabbatical in May. I was very much looking forward to a year in Maine and some hard-earned R&R.

The new year began somewhat ominously, with a crisis in my department serious enough to make me consider resigning my faculty position. But I held on through that situation and diligently slogged away at all my responsibilities through the rest of the semester, always with the shining promise of that sabbatical held out before me. And then, in mid-May, just a few days before my sabbatical was due to begin, came the phone call that my mother had been hospitalized. What followed in June and July is a blur, but summed up in one of my first posts on this blog, “The Lost Garden Season.”

By fall, things were looking up. My mother’s situation was somewhat stabilized (albeit not happily so), I got into a regular schedule of driving down to Rhode Island to spend two days with her every other week, I got away for a few days of relaxation in the Pacific northwest, and I even finished digging and planting the new fence border that was supposed to be this year’s major garden project.

On Monday of this week, I was really feeling on top of things. I’m a morning person, so the change back to standard time with its extra hour of morning light got me up and moving early, feeling energetic and full of purpose. I was almost finished with stacking this year’s supply of firewood, I was actually making progress on my sabbatical research project, and I had finished taking apart the section of the back walkway over the septic tank so that the septic service company could pump out the tank and end the plumbing problems that I had been experiencing for the past couple of weeks.

But it’s always something. When the septic tank was opened, it turned out to be full not of septic sludge, but of water – fluid that should have been draining off into the leaching field, but wasn’t. To find out why the tank isn’t draining, the back yard will need to be excavated, starting with something called the “distribution box,” which is located somewhere beneath that newly planted fence border, and probably also requiring destruction of a considerable portion of the 40-foot walkway that it took me three consecutive summers to build. (Please allow a moment here for a big sigh while I feel very sorry for myself.)

	The fence border before this season’s work began and the walkway that will probably have to be dug up.
	The fence border in process (only a few short weeks ago!)

Okay, I know that in the cosmic scheme of things, this is a set-back not a tragedy. Once whatever work is required on the septic system is completed, the fence border can be replanted (and redesigned to accommodate the new septic system if necessary) and the walkway can be rebuilt. In ten years, this episode will be the merest memory blip.

But right now I just feel that Gilda Radner was right. It’s always something.

Gardeners love to share – their knowledge and advice, their blogs , their garden photos, and especially their plants.

Every area of my garden includes plants that began as divisions from the gardens of friends and relatives. The planting on the steep slope by the back door is anchored by divisions of hosta and rhododendron that my mother gave me from her garden more than twenty years ago when I was a new homeowner.

 

From my friend Joyce, who has been my primary gardening mentor, I have three different varieties of Siberian iris (including two that were initially divisions from her aunt’s garden), hosta ‘Hyacinthina,’ rudbeckia ‘Herbstsonne,’ peonies, and (most recently) a new as-yet-unidentified hardy geranium.   I have my friend Anne to thank for the fragrant yellow daylilies that are planted along the front of my property, and my friend Jan gave me the divisions of tawny daylily that are now naturalizing along the side of the driveway.

 

I also love to share my plants with others. When my friend Joyce bought a new house and had to leave many beloved plants behind at the old garden, I had the pleasure of re-gifting divisions of the Siberian irises that she had given me several years earlier. When I created a new garden for my mother to fill the scarred space left after a huge blue spruce tree blew down, I included divisions of many plants from my own garden. Recently, I was a guest at my brother’s house; and when I looked out the guest room window in the morning, I realized that I was looking down on two clumps of geranium ‘Biokovo’ that had begun as divisions from my garden.

One August, in an attempt to deal more creatively with my overabundance of Biokovo thinnings, I brought two large plastic shopping bags full of bare-root plants with me to Gettysburg when I returned for the beginning of school. I put out an announcement on the college’s electronic digest offering free plants and then held open house in my office while dozens of people came by to collect them. This was a great deal of fun; I got to meet co-workers that I hadn’t previously known and made some new gardening friends along the way.

I found my “plant giveaway” such an enjoyable and gratifying experience that I wonder if there would be a way to replicate it on a larger scale. Could we devise a way for gardeners to share their extra plant divisions (or seeds) with would-be gardeners, especially those who might be financially strapped? I know of garden groups that swap plants with one another and of groups that hold plant sales as fundraisers, but has anyone come up with a scheme to give away plants to strangers? I’m imagining an event where plants would come with photos and information on how to use them (I loved Violet Fern’s image of the gift seed packs with photos) and where experienced gardeners would be on hand to provide consultation on how to get started, what to pay attention to, and how to combine plants effectively. This might be a great project for a Master Gardeners group. Does anyone know of any attempts (successful or not) to do something like this?

The golds of fall foliage against a blue October Sky,

the russet hues of oak leaves,

the oranges of Spirea japonica ‘Magic Carpet’ spilling over the garden wall,

the browns and beiges of fallen leaves
… and of firewood to be stacked.

…And, contrasting with all these, the greens of pine and hemlock needles.

When I began gardening, I had never heard of hardy geraniums; I learned about them from a book on perennial gardening and was captivated by the photos. I now have hardy geraniums growing in almost every part of the garden, and my collection includes at least a dozen different varieties.

I love these plants not only for their beautiful flowers, but also because their foliage remains attractive when they are not in bloom. Geraniums grow well in my sandy soil, they are among the easiest of plants to divide, they are pretty much free of diseases and pests, and even the varieties rated for zone 5 have survived in my garden on the zone 4/5 border.

One geranium that grows in many places in my garden is G. x cantabrigiense ‘Biokovo.’ This is a low-growing groundcover that makes a great edging plant for the front of the border. Biokovo graces my garden in June with masses of white flowers tinged with pink; and when it is finished blooming, its foliage provides a neat band that remains attractive throughout the season. The leaves and roots emit an astringent but pleasant aroma when they are touched. I became acquainted with Biokovo at the wonderfully eccentric nursery that Jean Moss used to run at her home in mid-coast Maine. Six years ago, at the end of the season, Jean sold me two divisions of this plant for $5 each and explained that I could pull the roots apart with my fingers to divide them into smaller clumps. I divided my two pots into eight small handfuls of roots and spaced them out along the front of the deck border. The following spring, each of those small divisions came up as a clump about 9” in diameter, and by year after that they had doubled in size and grown into the solid band that you see here. Because these plants expand in all direction by sending out shallow roots, I do need to thin them out each year. (I don’t consider them invasive, though, because they are so easy to pull up where they are not wanted.) I can’t bear to throw these lovely plants away, so I’m always looking for new homes for the ones I’ve thinned out. At this point, I have a 35’ edging of Biokovo along the front of the deck border, I have planted a 25’ row of it along the front of my property, and I have used it as edging in both the circular bed and the fence border. In addition, I’ve established divisions in my Gettysburg garden and I’ve given them away to countless relatives, friends, casual acquaintances, and co-workers in Maine, Massachusetts, Rhode Island, Pennsylvania and Maryland. And all this from the two $5 pots I bought six years ago! If my retirement portfolio yielded even half this return on investment, I’d be retired by now.

The circular flower bed that marks the turn into my driveway is 8’ in diameter and designed as three concentric circles of plants with a tall purple delphinium at the center. For the outer perimeter, I interplanted Biokovo with a rose pink variety of G. x cantabrigiense called ‘Karmina’ and with Alchemilla mollis (lady’s mantle). I so love the delicate pastel look of this when it is blooming in June, that I’ve repeated this combination at the front edge of the new fence border. G. x cantabrigiense is not the only species of geranium that I am growing in the circular bed. The ring of plants just inside the outer perimeter includes several taller geraniums. Two of these are varieties or hybrids of G. pratense, which form clumps 2’-3’ tall and bloom later in the summer. One of these, ‘Splish-Splash’ has white flowers variously splashed with purple (or are they purple splashed with white?). Another, ‘Johnson’s Blue,’ has been a favorite with gardeners since the 1950s. (I also have other clump-forming geraniums, varieties of G. sanguineum and G. maculatum, growing in my bedroom border.)

Because Johnson’s Blue does not bloom reliably for me, I’ve begun to grow some of the newer blue geranium hybrids that include G. endressii as one of the parents. Geraniums in the endressii family are my favorites. These plants begin as clumps; but as they begin to bloom, the branches get longer and become trailing rather than upright. They don’t look floppy and messy, however, because they continue to grow new upright foliage at the center of the clump and because the trailing branches tend to drape themselves over nearby plants in a very charming way. I think of these plants as “weavers” because their flowers tend to peek out among the flowers of nearby plants, tying them all together. Those are the blue flowers of ‘Brookside’ blooming above and behind Biokovo and Karmina in the circular bed. I also have Brookside growing in my blue and yellow border, along with a closely related variety, ‘Nimbus.’

Many of the G. endressii varieties and hybrids are pink. I have both G. endressii ‘Wargrave Pink’ and G. x oxonianum ‘A.T. Johnson’ growing in my deck border. These two plants, originally planted side by side, have grown together so that I now have trouble distinguishing them, except that one has flowers that are slightly more salmon and the other has flowers that are more silvery. I love them both and have included a division of this combination in the new fence border.

Even with all these hardy geraniums in my garden, there are so many more I would like to grow. I know that I will keep dividing old varieties and adding new ones as I develop new areas of the garden in the years to come.

Say “geranium” and most Americans think of the annual geraniums that are ubiquitous around here in hanging planters for Mother’s Day and in pots for decorating graves on Memorial Day. These “geraniums” are actually flowers of the genus Pelargonium. Many Americans are completely unaware of the true geraniums, the hardy plants that are such marvelous garden perennials.

The hardy geraniums (also known by the common name “cranesbill”) are a wonderfully diverse genus.  In the 2nd edition of Herbaceous Perennial Plants, Allan Armitage puts the number of distinct species at “over 250.” In the second edition of his major reference work Hardy Geraniums (Timber Press, 2001), Peter Yeo puts the estimate somewhat higher, at 350 species. The number of geranium species seems to be difficult to count, in part, because of their tendency to form hybrids. Apparently, some geranium species are quite promiscuous, and if two species that are attracted to one another find themselves growing within spitting distance, they will happily interbreed and form hybrids. As a result, many of the geranium hybrids that are available to gardeners have not been intentionally bred by hybridizers but discovered by horticulturalists.

Hardy geraniums are primarily cool temperate plants, and those who garden in a cool temperate climate will have a dizzying array of geranium varieties to choose from. But there are many geraniums available even for those of us who live in less temperate climes;  there are geraniums that will grow as far north as USDA hardiness zone 3 and as far south as zone 8. Geraniums are not prone to disease, and they are adapted to a wide variety of garden conditions. Some, like G. cinereum, G. dalmaticum, and G. x cantabrigiense, are groundcovers that grow less than 12” tall. Others, like G. pratense, G. sylvaticum and G. psilostemon form clumps that can grow to 3 or 4 feet in height. Some geraniums will grow in full sun, while others prefer part shade. Some (e.g., G. himalayense, G. pratense) like moist locations; others prefer dry (e.g., G. macrorrhizum) or well-drained ( e.g., G. endressii) soil. Some (e.g., G. clarkei) bloom in spring; others (e.g., G. pratense) bloom in summer; and, if temperatures are cool enough, some (e.g., G. endressii) will bloom continuously through summer and into fall.

Colors on geranium blooms range from magenta through blue and violet, to pink and white. (I am unaware of any hardy geraniums with flowers in the yellow-orange range.) For the most part, the flowers are small and delicate rather than large and showy. But a stand of G. x magnificum with its blue flowers all in bloom can be breathtaking, and masses of G. x cantabrigiense ‘Biokovo’ flowers have a frothy appearance that always reminds me of whipped cream. Recently, Allen Becker’s blog featured a very showy G. psilostemon cultivar called ‘Patricia’ that I am eager to try out in my garden.

If you are not growing hardy geraniums yet, check them out; I’ve never met a hardy geranium that I didn’t like. In my next post, I will say more about the ways I am using hardy geraniums in my own garden.

A few weeks into my blogging experience, when I had the basics under control, I started looking around for ways to reach potential readers; and, like many bloggers, I discovered blog directories as one way to do this. One directory that I found my way to was Blotanical, which specializes in garden blogs. Blotanical is the brainchild of Australian gardener and garden blogger, Stuart Robinson, and it seems to be unique in its focus on putting garden bloggers from around the globe in touch with one another. Blotanical is not just a blog directory; it is a virtual gardening community.

This community aspect of Blotanical brought together my gardening self and my sociologist self. As every sociologist knows, you have to have people interacting with one another to have a community; and to interact, people have to be able to predict how others will respond to them. In most communities, people in face-to-face interaction with one another create shared expectations for behavior. But how does a virtual community like Blotanical create such shared expectations and teach them to new members? Here’s my sociological take on the shared expectations for being part of the community of “blotanists” (as members of Blotanical are called):

• Blotanists should interact with other blotanists. New members learn this when they get a raft of “welcome” messages from more experienced blotanists and when they see that the first menu option for what to do with the message is “comment back.” This expectation is further reinforced by the point system that determines a member’s status within Blotanical; you get 1 point for receiving a message, but 2 for sending one.
• Blotanists should read and comment on one another’s blogs. The same point system that gives you 2 points for sending someone a message gives you 3 points for “picking” one of their blog posts. And to pick posts, you need to look at them. You can also list another member or their blog as one of your “favourites,” and most picked and most “faved” blogs are prominently featured on the Blotanical home page. The expectations to read and comment on other members’ blogs is further reinforced by the next expectation.
• Blotanists should reciprocate other blotanists’ positive notice of their blog. Remember that the reason most people join Blotanical in the first place is to find more readers for their blog (and Blotanical certainly does that!). Your blog gets even more notice when it is featured on the “most popular” lists, and you quickly learn that the best way to get people to pick your posts or “fave” your blog is to pick or fave theirs. This expectation of reciprocation is not a tit-for-tat; if someone faves your blog, you don’t have to turn around and fave theirs. But if you don’t fave their blog, you should reciprocate in another way – by picking their posts or leaving a comment on their blog or listing them as one of your favourite blotanists. The “pick” and “fave” systems also reinforce the expectation of interaction. When someone faves you, you get an automated email message notifying you of this event and suggesting that “You might want to head on over and thank them and possibly even get to know them.” You can also get a list of people who have picked your post, with each name accompanied by a link you can use to send the person a message thanking them.

Because Blotanical is not just a virtual community of gardeners, but a community of garden bloggers, new members also learn expectations for being a garden blogger, Blotanical style:

• Blog posts should include photography, preferably the blogger’s own original photographs. Photographs are clearly rewarded over text in the pick system; photo-only posts can be very popular, but text-only posts almost never are. This makes a lot of sense because Blotanical is a global community and photos bridge the language barrier. Photos are also easier to “read” quickly. This expectation may create some tensions, however, for those who think of themselves primarily as garden writers.
• Bloggers should post regularly. This does not necessarily mean every day, but others should be able to count on your posts appearing often. Those who do not post regularly may find that others stop visiting their blog (and, remember, those visits are the reason they joined in the first place) or they may receive solicitous messages asking them if they are ill.
• Garden bloggers should promote other garden blogs. Most Blotanical members include both a link to Blotanical on their blog and a listing of other garden blogs that they read or recommend.

This post has already violated the expectations for how long blog posts should be, and I’ve barely scratched the surface of the fascinating social world of Blotanical. There is so much more I could say!

Not everyone who lists their blog on Blotanical becomes a blotanist, a member of the virtual community. While some become very actively involved, others treat this simply as another blog directory. I am currently doing some systematic research to learn more about what differentiates those who become true blotanists from those who do not. Watch for another post about this when I have some results.