Catalogue Choices
So far this winter I have amassed a huge collection of seed and plant catalogues. I love to page through them, looking at all the gorgeous photos, reading the descriptions and trying to decide if this plant or that plant would be a better fit in my dream garden (I call it my dream garden because it only exists there, my real garden is somewhat ‘limited in size’).
Writing up all those blurbs about different plants and seeds has to be really tough work sometimes, I mean truly- the writer has to work really hard to come up with new descriptions for virtually identical plants, worded just the right way to entice the gardener into parting with their hard-earned dollars, and max out their credit cards on enough seeds and plants to fill two gardens. And much like real estate descriptions, you have to learn from experience what all those fancy key words really mean. Heaven help the novice gardener, faced with these choices, all of which promise to give them a garden showplace, worthy of a professional design mag layout. So here’s a bit of help in deciphering just what all that jargon means:
Choice: We’re overstocked, trying desperately to move this item off our shelves.
Rare and Choice: We can’t even squeeze all these into the storeroom.
Common: Well known plants from our childhood, even the most inept gardener can grow these. Common plants are never offered in catalogues. This term is only used to describe a variety “Much improved over it’s common ancestor” Common plants are described as “durable”.
Exclusive: they’ve paid the breeder a big fat fee to only sell the item to them. You have to get it from them, no-one else has it. This season anyhoo- next season it will be half the price in every catalogue. Watch for ‘Mail-order exclusive’. It’s probably available on the groaning shelves at Wallyworld.
Limited Supply: You might want to rush right out and order this, but it’s futile. It means that either (A) they’ve sold out the day before the catalogues went to press, or (B) they are hoarding the few they do have for friends, family and a few discerning favorite customers.
May bloom the first year: means it won’t bloom the first year in my garden, or yours either. “If planted early enough” means plant it on New Years Day.
Hardy: will live through the winter…somewhere, but not in your garden. Hardy to zone 5 really means zone 6, but one person once got it through a zone 5 winter with unseasonably warm weather and plenty of snowcover. “Hardy with some protection” means it must be coddled more than a flu-stricken husband.
Light fragrance: You have to crush it and shove it up your nose to notice.
Vigorous grower: flashing red lights should be going off in your head. These are plants that will devour your house and yard in weeks. (Kudzu is considered a ‘mildly vigorous grower’).
Provides winter interest: extra boring the other three seasons.
Old Favorite: AKA ‘Victorian Favorite’ replaced by better varieties pre WWII, for good reason I might add, it will succumb to all kinds of maladies and even introduce you to a few new ones.
Tolerates light shade: Yeah- it’ll survive, but it sure won’t like it. Probably won’t die, but will just get leggy and won’t bloom.
A challenge: Will die. (in law, this is called a disclaimer)
Spectacular: Gaudy and tasteless.
For the discerning gardener: (A) The opposite of ‘Spectacular’- you need a magnifying glass to see the flowers the three days it is in bloom. (B) Priced at twice it’s worth.
Will reseed freely or Self-sowing: make sure you like this one, because it will spew seeds into the rest of your garden, your lawn and even the cracks of your driveway and defy any efforts to limit it’s spread.
Mild: often used to describe tomato flavor, it means it will taste just like the sliced pale winter tomatoes on a diner salad.
Delicate in flavor: there is none, you’ll need plenty of butter and garlic to appreciate the vegetable you spent all summer growing. Wonderful smothered in pasta sauce.
Prolific: You will have to leave these on your hated neighbor’s porch under cover of darkness just to get rid of them. Often used in descriptions of Zuchini varieties.
Unique: Just downright weird looking, bordering on ugly, this is the most positive term they could come up with for this one. Some people like their flowers and vegies to look like something out of a science fiction novel or ‘Star Trek’
So how do I know what these terms really mean? Because every year I fall for them, place those orders, and try something rare, choice and unique, available in limited quantities for the discerning gardener only, that’s how.
See you in the Garden!
He … he! Loved your post … so much of it rings true … I’ve purchased from catalogues and agree wholeheartedly with your interpretation of the jargon! Well done.