My best buy.

I'm in Maryland taking care of my Mom, and the Whole Foods store in Annapolis is my go-to stop for almost everything, including these lovely tulips.

The display in the store is stunning, and the price of each bunch? Only $6.99. I'm not sure if the tulips are available in Whole

Foods stores everywhere (I suspect so), but trust me on this: You deserve a week's worth of elegance, and it only costs a dollar a day.

Pam+Anna+NYC= Love

When I started my blog, I swore I would never post anything that wasn't related - at least vaguely - to gardening. Lesson learned? Never say never.

No Lawn? Try This.

Let's be honest. Would you sit on a bench draped with a piece of sod? Even more nuts, would you decorate the sod with three voltaires and a vase of white roses?

I would not, which is probably why I'm not the owner of a charming Brooklyn florist called Graceful Gardens. The shop is located on Driggs Avenue in Williamsburg, not far from my daughter's apartment. I stopped in on a recent visit, and loved the shop, despite the sod bench tableau.

Question of the day.

Every year, this branch on one of my Japanese maples turns red before the rest of the tree. Can anyone tell me why?

An insider's tip.

If you are lucky enough to still have a few tomatoes left, don't wait too long to pick them. I've been assuming heat and drought (no rain in two months!) are causing these splits in my tomatoes, but my go-to guy Keith Forrester from Whitton Farms says no: The splits are caused by leaving tomatoes on the vine too long.

"We pick our tomatoes when they start to turn," Keith says.

Too much watering (guilty as charged) also contributes to the splits, because tomatoes turn water to juice. Gives "bursting with flavor" more meaning, don't you think?

This is my last bean of the summer :(

I am so pumped.

The Midsouth Native Plant Conference kicked off tonight at the Dixon, and like all great events, it started with food. A barbecue buffet, wine station, and beer from Memphis' own Ghost River Brewery were set up in the garden pavilion - a lovely building and outdoor terrace built on the site of the garden's original greenhouse.

Meandering back through the garden's pathways (there were lanterns in the trees!), I stopped to admire an unfamiliar plant. "What is this," I asked the lady behind me. "That's artillery fern, only it's not a fern," a man chimed in. "It's a member of the Pilea family, and it's called an artillery fern because if you shake the stems the seed pods go flying like, three feet. Beautiful isn't it?" And there he was, Felder Rushing, rock star of the native plant world, on his way back from grabbing a little barbecue too. And, yes, he was wearing his hat.

Felder's lecture, which started a few minutes later, was a gentle and humorous prod to live harmoniously with our planet: collect rain water, use pesticides judiciously, follow your gardening bliss. He also peppered his talk with homespun advice. I particularly loved his instructions for composting, which he credited to his mom: Quit throwing the stuff away, and pile it up somewhere. Felder doesn't even turn his compost piles. Don't you just love that?

When I got home, I sat outside in my courtyard and gave the garden a good once over. The flowers are spent, the tomato plants never grew tomatoes, the leaves are starting to fall, and the crickets are singing despite the cool nights. There is work to be done, and it is perfect.