Apparently I Need a Southern Gentleman

Berries in the snow, just what the doctor ordered.

No, I'm not advertising for a mate with a charming drawl. It's only me letting out an inner "D'oh!" after a spot of Googling.

It's all to do with winter interest in the garden, or lack thereof, in my own. Four years ago, determined to get serious about eradicating the dreariness of my winter landscape, I planted a Winterberry shrub, Ilex Verticillata "Winter Red".

A specimen at the Toronto Botanical Gardens inspired me to plant one of these hardy deciduous hollies that sports spectacular red berries in winter.

 I also picked up a male pollinator, "Jim Dandy", as hollies need a male and a female to make berries. To my dismay, years went by with a berry count of zero, nothing, nada. I waited, thinking maybe it takes time for the magic to happen. But this year, with no berries again, I began to wonder, how long does it take before you see berries, perhaps I planted the pollinating fellow too far away? In general, what gives?

Well, turns out that compatibility really counts in the plant world. Today's googling told me that I brought home Mr. Wrong for Ms. Winter Red. What I needed for her temperament was an Ilex "Southern Gentleman". And no, the original tag didn't have this info. So, all these years Red's been ignoring the phone calls, avoiding the approach, and crossing the street whenever hopeful "Jim Dandy" came wafting by. Sigh. A match never meant to be. And now I can't wait to install a new shrub in my spring garden; Ms Red's waited long enough for her "Southern Gentleman".

Temporary Winterscaping

Our temporary winterscape

It's the pagan in me that keeps my Christmas tree up long past traditional tree-time. For me, the tree and lights represent the resilient human spirit through the darkest days of winter. Usually, my whim is satisfied by an artificial tree.

This year, however, I had a yen for a real one; a balsam fir. I wanted the boughs to decorate our front door, and to bring in to perfume the house. But my plan was always to keep the tree outdoors on our back deck, where we could enjoy it through our window all winter.

So that's what happened.

It's strange that in a country like Canada, which suffers through more than its share of winter weather, we think so little about how the garden looks in winter. This, at least, is a temporary solution – one that benefited the Boy Scouts, who sold us our tree, as well as the grower at a local tree farm. Plus, our tree will eventually be tree-cycled into mulch.

Our Christmas tree trimmed by this year's (occasional) snow adds a dimension to our view that would otherwise be garnished only by our neighbour's kitchen window. I like.

Making snowflake flowers (or flower snowflakes)

A lily-flowered tulip was my first model for a snowflower

If you need cheap, cheerful fun for a chilly day, there's nothing easier than making paper snowflakes. Few crafts are so inexpensive – or so sure of success. All you need is a sheet of paper, sharp scissors and your imagination – which can get added inspiration from the garden.

When it comes to snowflakes, I am what our dad would have called a dab hand. Usually, I go for intricate ice patterns. Once, I made a King Tut flake on request. Here, I've tried organic floral shapes. But, you can't go wrong with a snowflake.

Guidelines for making a flurry of snowflowers:

These work for making any kind of snowflake. The key secrets: Sharp scissors; sharp creases.

IMAGE ONE: Top left: Take a sheet of bond paper (scrap paper is fine) and sharp scissors. Sharp scissors make the most accurate cuts. Top right: Fold the bottom edge up to meet one of the long sides. Align edges closely, and fold as closely to the tip of the corner as you can. When everything is lined up, make a sharp crease. Bottom left: Cut off the excess strip. (Save it to make three tiny snowflakes. No waste!) Bottom right: You'll have a triangle, with a fold on the long edge. Now, fold it in half, neatly matching fold to fold and open side to open side. Make a sharp crease.

IMAGE TWO: Top left: As the folds make things thicker, I find it helps to score the corner that will be folded first with a fingernail. Then fold the triangle in half, again matching folded side to folded side. For this fold and the next one, the open edges will be at the top. Top right: Scissor handles are useful for  sharpening the crease. Run the handle along the folded edge on a flat surface. Bottom left: Score the corner for the final fold, then again fold so that the folded edges meet. Bottom right: Cut off the excess triangle, using the cut edge as a guide. (Or, you can leave this corner on for a different effect.)

IMAGE THREE: Now you can begin cutting out snowflakes – or snowflowers. The more paper you cut out,  the airier your snowflake or snowflower will be. For this one, I tried using a shamrock shape. As you can see, I rather botched the taller version of the leaf, and my cuts are a bit messy. But so what? As you open your snowflower, fairy dust magically transforms it into something you didn't quite expect. Don't worry about being exact.

IMAGE FOUR: Here you see what happens using a different strategy – leaving more paper on the form, and cutting your patterns into alternate sides. Cutting a pattern into the folded point gives you a corolla in the centre of the flower. See the fringed effect of making many, tiny wedge cuts into the top edge? Now, go on, experiment and have fun. After you're done with them, they can all go into recycling. Snowflakes are meant to be ephemeral, aren't they?

Toronto Botanical Gardens Open House 2012

Autumn at the Toronto Botanical Garden

Joining the Toronto Botanical Garden was one of the best garden gifts I've given to myself – to preview how good it can be, check out tomorrow's TBG Open House (Dec. 8, 5:30 to 9:30 pm).

The TBG gardens are beautiful in any season – ignore the parking lot reno for the moment. Yet, viewing the gardens is free, always. The best part of the gift is what's inside that pretty wrapping.

The Edwards Lecture crowning the evening is a case in point. Dan Benarcik, horticulturist at Chanticleer in Pennsylvania, talks about his 25 Top Plants for All-Season Splash. Topics like this usually draw capacity crowds to the Edwards Lecture series, and it's free for members – $20 a lecture for non members. Two lectures a year would pretty much cover your membership fee. But there are more benefits – these are just a few:

Garden subscriptions? Trellis, the TBG's informative magazine, will arrive in your mailbox. Garden-themed gifts? Members get 10% off in the gift store. Events, year round? Tomorrow, before the Edwards Lecture, Sonia Day signs her latest book The Untamed Garden. It's lots of fun; a lusty look at our love affair with plants, and beautifully designed. Have Sonia inscribe yours for your beloved. Love reading? Not all garden info is wikipeded. Explore the 10,000 volumes in the Weston Family Library. It's free for public use, but only members can bring books home. Like learning? Many, many classes year round – already reasonably priced and, again, members enjoy a discount. Have kids? The TBG loves kids, and kids just love the TBG. Family memberships are available.

Click here to play Santa with a membership for your favourite gardener. Or, like me, maybe for yourself. Again, I'm not being paid to say this. I'm just a believer.

The Toronto Botanical Garden decks itself out for winter

In spring, the Toronto Botanical Garden blazes with luminous bulbs

As spring turns to summer, the Toronto Botanical Garden turns it up a notch