Pink Prairie Mallow

Better a day late, than never, eh? This is the flower Blogger was bloggering me about last night when I gave up after several frustrated tries to incorporate it into the Late June Mallow Mania post. Everything seems to be working normally again now, so here we go with Take Two...
I mentioned last night that "some mallows just find us," and this was the precisely the one to which I referred, our Pink Prairie Mallow (Sidalcea malviflora). The ancestors of this carefree beauty arrived in our garden during its second year, long before the Boulder Bed was planned. At that point we had worked up most of the level area at the top of the front yard slope, and that small area was the garden at that point (1999). As we were doing our spring bed cleaning, we discovered a small seedling that sure didn't look like a weed, and in fact, it had leaves suspiciously reminiscent of some kind of Mallow, so we just let it go.
And, as you can see, this is what the mystery seedling grew up into over the course of the summer, a graceful and floriferous lovely that usually tops out at about 30-36 inches, and usually maintains its nice, bushy habit until late summer and early fall when it begins to decline inevitably. Of course, by the time it bloomed, we had determined that it was a Mallow, but not one of the more familiar ones we already knew. So we got out the plant books and went searching, only to find that it's commonly just called 'Prairie Mallow' a wildflower reputedly native to some of the upper Midwest states, Iowa included.
In successive years, our once foundling Mallow returned faithfully with its friends, with a few more added to the party every year ... and now, some 9 years later, has officially earned 'Weed Status' in the front Boulder Bed. Prairie Mallow self-seeds with a vengeance, and if it has at least one good year in the garden, it will be back in greater numbers, and though it's not terribly invasive per se, it does tend to get a bit over-enthusiastic if not kept somewhat in check.

If you grow it and you end up with too many small ones in the Spring, it's totally possible to dig the youngsters up carefully and transfer them to another location or pot them up to give to other interested gardeners, which is what I did for several years until no one asked for them anymore! I guess I tapped out the neighborhood gardeners, and who knows how many others are out there in the area multiplying, hehe. I don't recommend trying to move larger plants such as these, because they develop a very fibrous tap root, that if damaged, most likely will lead to the plant's death. We have moved larger ones in the past, but they really suffer from the uprooting and have to be watered constantly and pampered to make a go of it. Younger plants (say, up to 2-3 inches) haven't developed as much of a root, and thus suffer much less from transplanting ... so if you've got 'em and you want to move 'em, the younger ones are the only ones worth attempting to move. As much as I hate to do it, I'm going to have dig up or pull at least 6-7 more good sized plants to clear some space for other plants to go in, and to provide more sun and visibility to my second year 'Lord Baltimore' Hibiscus moscheutos.

If you're a fan of deadheading (believe it or not, some people are into that!), it will accomplish two good things for you: it will promote another flush of blooms once the first wave has faded, AND it will cut down drastically on the number of seeds dispersed elsewhere in the garden, thus reducing the number of volunteers you may get the following spring. I usually just lop large portions of the plants off about mid-summer before the seeds are fully ripened, but I inevitably miss some pods, so we always have many coming up in the spring. So, if you choose the path of least resistance, be prepared for a sea of pink come late May and June and throughout the summer months where you have them planted.

I've long thought that this would be a superb plant for "ugly poorish areas," such as along garages, or in somewhat gravelly soils, in much the same sorts of conditions that Hollyhocks prefer (along alleys and driveways). As long they have plenty of sun and attentive watering while they're getting established, they'll soon require little care, if any and will, if given the space, fill it in quite nicely in a couple of years. This is where the path of least resistance (e.g. doing nothing) actually will pay you dividends. In fact, we did just that for a friend's mother who had an ugly mess by her garage ... we sent a few small plants over, with a lot of seeds and several years later she has a nice patch of Prairie Mallow in what was once an ugly spot where nothing but weeds would grow. Once established, these tough little plants ask for virtually nothing but sun ... they're impervious to dry conditions, heat and humidity which could spell the doom of other plants, so in that way, they're a really fine plant!

Late June Mallow Mania

Fernymoss took a bunch more photos today while he was out weeding and presented me with a lovely batch of blooms I'll be posting as I can during this busy time at work. So, I thought it would be fun to stay in the Mallow mode after yesterday's blast from 'Sun Showers.' The Malvaceae is a huge family of plants, comprising over 200 genera and over 2,300 species (see Wiki link above for details). It even includes such agricultural crops as Okra and Cotton! (That was something I just learned tonight.) Regulars here already know about our passion for Mallows, and we have an ever-increasing number of species, to which we are always adding new ones when we find one we like (or one finds us, as is the case with the 'Prairie Mallow.') So here are a few for your delectation, some of which may be familiar or others you might consider adding to your garden ... all the species represented here are quite easy to grow from seed, and have a long, proliferous bloom season!
This first example is the lovely "French Hollyhock" or Zebrina Mallow (Malva sylvestris), one of our favorites. We planted a pack of seeds quite a few years ago and it has now made itself quite at home in the sunnier end of the front Boulder Bed (in fact, this year it achieved 'weed status') and some who are in the way are going to have to move to a bed behind the house or (gasp!) get pulled to make room for other plants. In normal times these blooms should be just covered in bees, but this year, well, our bees have disappeared. (See this previous post for details.)

Hollyhocks (Alcea biennis) are often cited by gardeners as one of their favorite old-fashioned flowers from childhood, and we're no exceptions ... when I didn't have a space to garden (the old apartment days) I always longed to have them in my garden. Well, we're just happy that this one survived to bloom this year! Last year we had several really large plants gearing up to bloom this year, but alas, they served as a tasty dinner for the rabbits in early winter, and aside from some very small seedlings coming up now, it's the only one we'll see bloom this year. I sure wish Pepa could have been around for the Great Mallow Massacre, because she would have at least given those wascally wabbits a run for their life, or even better, a quick escort to the Great Rabbit Reaper. Oh well, we can replace them, but it sure doesn't endear the rabbits to me any more than in the past (when one year they ate and entire bed of Larkspur!).

Enjoy, but please don't eat the Hollyhocks ...

Editorial note:

I had planned to include some photos and comments on our 'Prairie Mallows' (Sidalcea malviflora), but Blogger is acting up tonight and freezing up and losing photos and text, so if I can successfully publish this post, I'll consider myself lucky. I guess I've been "Bloggered" as I've seen other bloggers call it. No matter what, it's been a frustrating night in Bloggerlandia. I'm hoping things are back to normal next time, because we've got a lot more going on right now to show off!

Break Out Your Platform Shoes ... Disco Belle Has Arrived!

July is prime Hibiscus blooming season, and the past week it's really been revving up around here! As most of you know by this point, I'm a fanatic about Hibiscus and most members of the Mallow family ... examples of which you've seen in various posts recently.

Hibiscus moscheutos, sometimes referred to as 'Rose Mallow' is the species that definitely packs the most "Wow!" factor, with its dinner plate sized blooms in eye-popping shades of red, pink, white and combinations thereof. Though the eventual plant height may vary by cultivar (the Blue River white one I posted recently has been known to top out at about 7 feet!), most species tend to grow from at least 4 feet to 6 feet at maturity.

The 'Disco Belle' variety shown here is one of the smaller cultivars and usually tops out at a very bushy four feet, which makes it an attractive option for closer to the front of the border. Though its blooms don't quite reach dinner plate size (usually about 7-8"), they're every bit as striking, and what it may lack in size, it more than makes up for it in sheer quantity! On a given day, I've seen as many as 10-12 blooms open, and this past weekend it was really outstanding with approximately 6-8 blooms opening every day. As I've mentioned before, their blooms only last one day, so every day it blooms it's essentially a whole new show!

Notes on the photos: Taken 22 July, 2007 by IVG.
The first shot gives you some perspective of where this beauty is situated in the front boulder bed. In the background you can see it surrounded by Zebrina Mallow, Artemisia, Coneflowers, Sea Holly, and Porcupine grass.
The second shot is an in your face close up of one of the blooms, complete with lovely IBs. And finally, the third shot is a kind of 'peekaboo' shot I took just for fun, to try to get the perspective of the bloom rising up from the background.

Zebrina Mallow

Today was another hot one here, and I have to admit (shamefully) I didn't venture out too far, save for going to work and back home ... yet another Monday (blah!), so I'm going to resort to some more photos from my Saturday expedition around the garden. (7/07/07)

This is another Mallow (which regular readers know are some of our favorite plants around here) we got started a few years ago out in the front corner boulder bed. We started with a pack of seeds, some of which came up, others not ... and the first year here they behaved much like Hollyhocks ... they came up, grew, put out a lot of leaves but no blooms the first year. So, we figured, okay, it's another biennial, we should see some flowers the next year. Even though we were under the impression (from the seed packet) that they were an annual Mallow, we figured we'd just let them do what they would do. And indeed they came back the next year, bigger than ever and looking oh so much like miniature Hollyhocks (topping out at about 36" or so), with blooms all along and up the central stalk of the plant ... smaller than Hollyhocks as we conceive of them, but offering a delicious purple veined and white combination that we really liked. And the bees love them too, so you'll probably see more of these over the summer with bees involved ... But being the pro-bee fanatics we are, we're happy to provide them with some luscious IBs to feast upon and ensure us of future flowers to come.

Given their behavior in the last few years, we're still not quite sure whether to classify them as a true perennial (they've been acting like it lately, perhaps due to milder winters?) or a biennial, but in any case, they reappear every year and produce (like most Mallows) tons of seed and have self-seeded with a vengeance, much to our delight. And they tend to move around a bit too ... we've got them coming up at the base of the rocks this year, all throughout the bed itself and beyond, so I suppose at some point we'll have to get a bit ruthless with them. Even so, it's really gratifiying to see that something so beautiful introduced into the larger garden space will proceed to mark its territory and rejoin us every year. This year they seem to be acting as annuals, as they have just begun to bloom, so who knows what permutation they will exhibit next year? Frankly, we care little, because we're glad to see they have decided to make a permanent home in the front garden....

These would be an ideal choice for gardeners with more limited space, who just don't have the room for traditional Hollyhocks (who can reach 5-6' in height in their second year), or just want the look, but in a smaller space. Given our experience with this species, we think they're well worth the effort to get them established, and they make great companions to other Mallows (such as our numerous Hibiscus moscheutos and the Prairie Mallows).

I'll have a more detailed post at some point about the many rewards of growing Mallows, but for now, take my word that if you have a sunny garden, with average soil and the inclination to pamper them just a wee bit at first, the Mallows are a plant family you want to encourage. And soon, Zebrina Mallow's cousins the Hibiscus moscheutos, will be starting their magnificent eye popping display ... where these Zebrinas may be small (about 2" across), the moscheutos varieties often reach dinner plate sized blooms that really stand out for their brief moment of glory (they last but one day).

More to come soon on these marvelous troopers of the garden ... give them heat, no problem, humidity? they love it ... drought even? they scoff at it ... truly, Mallows should be a garden staple for us Midwestern gardeners, because they offer so much for so little effort!