THE OLIVE BRANCH
I’M NOT REALLY a plant snob, but on occasion I do perversely enjoy it when a visiting gardener recognizes something I have that doesn’t belong in Rhode Island. “Oh, that! That’s just a golden bougainvillea. You have one of those, as well, don’t you?”
The fact is, I have always liked growing unusual plants in my yard or on my deck, along with the old faithfuls that can be counted on to bloom, bear or just look pretty in USDA Zones 6b or 7a (or—wishful thinking on the south side of my brown house—Zone 8a).
Some of my novel plants become more or less part of my permanent collection, like my Asian persimmons, Meyer lemons and weeping mulberries. Others fall in the category of passing “Greg fads,” like artichokes, agaves and figs.
More than a few, I admit, have been outright gardening failures, even after multiple long-term efforts, along with considerable research and commitment. Various hybrid edible chestnuts and those stupid kiwis of all types
