The online correspondence between Ranters Marianne Willburn (in Virginia) and Scott Beuerlein (in Ohio) began in July 2019 with Scott’s column ‘Time for a Grexit’ in Horticulture magazine which grumpily condemned British garden writers and their books. Marianne couldn’t let him get away with it; but chose to answer on GardenRant soil. Scott rebutted. Marianne rebutted his rebuttal, and Scott returned the punch.
Marianne answered with a letter.
What followed has been an edgy, informative, humorous and often intimate portrait of their gardens and lives in very different regions of the country. The letters aren’t managed or edited, and often, readers of GardenRant see them even before Scott or Marianne does.
It’s a gardeners’ correspondence for a digital age. You can find the entire collection of letters below. Enjoy!
Chickweed & Despair, Hope & Dixter: A Letter to The Midwest
Lovettsville, VA May 7, 2022 Dear Scott, As much as I hate to stress you out with yet another ambiguous deadline by immediately answering your letter, I find I have [...]
Muddy March Gardens, Flagrant Power Tool Violations, Heresy, Arson, & More (Another {Belated} Letter to Lovettsville)
After returning home, I went into a power tool-fired, panic-driven, spring cleanup, trying desperately to wipe ugly out of my garden but, truth is, only some of what I did made anything look even slightly better. The real cure for March is April, and the cure for April is May. Anyway, I went into a string-trimming frenzy, slashing back sedges, grasses, perennials and slinging dirt, sticks, gravel, plant labels, cigarette butts, beer cans, and whatever else all over creation anywhere I went. I consider myself kind of a performance artist when it comes to using a string trimmer. And a pretty innovative one at that. A lot of what I do with it would show up very prominently in the DO NOT section of the operating manual if manual writers had anything like the imagination I've got.
Carex Conundrums and Groupie Gripes: A Letter to The Midwest
Lovettsville, VA 20180 March 17, 2022 Dear Scott, I am glad we agree upon the many joys of Brunnera and Carex, if not the fact that you are clearly affable [...]
Confronting Humor and a Lack of it from Every Angle: A Letter from the Midwest
And dark and mysterious people like me hate being called “affable.” In fact, even affable people even hate being called “affable.” Which, I’m certain you knew. And why you said it. And, guess what, I forgive you. Yes, I forgive you. Because sometimes you’re a good person.
Hackneyed Metasequoia and Other Confessions: A Letter To The Midwest
6 January 2022 Lovettsville, VA Dear Scott, I thought I’d confuse you by preempting your letter with one of my own. No, you are not behind, I am simply ahead. [...]
Hardened Plant Nerd Seeks Horticultural Innocence: A Letter to The Midwest
December 9, 2021 Lovettsville, VA Dear Scott, My apologies for allowing your letter to float gently down through the inbox until it lodged somewhere between a reminder to pay my [...]
Gauging Horticulture’s Place in the General Public’s Consciousness
One of the challenges horticulture faces in proving its importance is that it does most of its best work at the subconscious level.
Austen, Fiona, and The Power of Greening Urban America: A Letter To The Midwest
September 4, 2021 Lovettsville, VA Dear Scott, It is as if Virginia Woolf & Jane Austen came together over a few drinks and birthed your last letter. What a read. [...]
Getting Hosed in the August Garden; Another Letter from the Midwest
But, until I actually get around to planning a reptilian vacation, I'm dragging hoses. And hoses are the work of the devil! Evil, terrible products. Horrendous inventions from the very beginning.
The Other F-word – Flood: A Letter to The Midwest
July 8, 2021 Lovettsville, VA Dear Scott, Just as I was beginning to think you’d finally expired face down in a root-infested trench, and that Michele might have seized upon [...]
On Wild Mushrooms, Bears, and Teenage Girls
If you insist on traipsing around in the hollers of Virginia like Lewis and Clark, out there randomly meandering about along with all the various drug runners, moonshiners, and village psychopaths. Making yourself subject to the mood, hunger, and whims of every snake, spider, bear, and cougar loose in the woods. Completely vulnerable to things like quicksand, booby traps, landmines, and God knows whatever else, then at least be smart. Bring a teenage girl with you! Which, in fact, is what Lewis and Clark did. They knew.
The Pleasures of Morels vs. The Fear of Black Bears: A Letter To The Midwest
May 13, 2021 Lovettsville, VA Dear Scott, The may apples have begun to bloom and the morels are fruiting. As your words on the subject of mushrooming were predictably dismissive [...]