Plant Amnesty founder picks 10 indispensable plants

CASS TURNBULL may be the diva of pruning, the queen of quips and the founder of Plant Amnesty, but at home she's a frustrated gardener. "I'm getting ready to deconstruct my little Ballard garden. I've made all the mistakes everyone makes . . . All I see is what's wrong with it," she says with a sigh.

When it comes to specific plants, she prefers to talk about her clients' gardens. "I call myself a creative-maintenance person," says Turnbull, who has been gardening professionally for 22 years, including an early stint at the Seattle Parks Department. Her indispensable plants are the easy-care, no-nonsense ones she routinely sneaks into customers' gardens.

Hardy cyclamen (C. hederifolium). This one starts as a bulb and spreads readily. The plant has marbled leaves and pretty pink autumn flowers. "I prefer the common, the trite and the true," says Turnbull. "These cyclamen take dry shade and they don't punk out."

Snowdrops (Galanthus nivalis). Like the cyclamen, these have delicate looks that belie their toughness. Turnbull fancies dwarf snowdrops that bloom as early as December or January. "There's no clunky bits of dying foliage left over after they flower," she says. "These bulbs give lots of joy and almost no annoyance."

Tree peonies. Ones like the single, yellow-blooming Paeonia lutea var. ludlowii are high on Turnbull's list of favorites for both handsome foliage and huge, dreamy flowers. Just like Turnbull, there's nothing shy about these woody plants that grow more than 7 feet high. "I've never seen one I didn't love," she says, adding, "Don't forget to put on the cages in March and don't get all freaked out by the ants on them." (There is a life lesson in there somewhere.)

Daphne odora 'Marginata.' A tidy evergreen shrub, its leaves have butter-colored trim and its flowers are pink and fragrant. Turnbull describes it with fondness and familiarity: "Suicide-prone, floppy-branched, bleaches out in the sun, defoliates in a cold winter, and yet nothing beats the smell of Daphne odora in the early spring . . . absolutely nothing! When that happens, all her faults are forgiven, and we are all in love." No wonder this daphne has been named as an indispensable by more gardeners than any other single plant.

Hydrangea macrophylla 'Mariesii Perfecta.' This and all the other blue lacecaps are Turnbull favorites because they're tough, take to transplanting and bloom in summer. "I used to call peonies and hydrangeas 'little old lady plants' when I started gardening . . . Now I like them a lot," she says, adding, "What do you suppose it means?"

Rhododendron 'Blaney's Blue.' A mid-season bloomer, it tops out around 5 feet high. Turnbull loves any blue-blooming azalea or rhody, particularly some of the new generation like 'Blaney's Blue,' because they are healthier and longer-lived than the older kinds.

Helleborus orientalis. Turnbull loves these, especially ones with cream, freckled and dusky purple flowers. Their supreme virtue is blooming in winter, but they also stay reasonably small, look good most of the year and are first-rate companions for rhododendrons.

Smoke bush (Cotinus coggygria). Turnbull's "signature plant," it appears in most every garden she cares for, where she allows it to grow to its full, rangy height. "It does have an unfortunate growth habit," she admits of this tall, deciduous tree-shrub with beautiful big purple, green or golden leaves.

Sword fern (Polystichum munitum). This one has been called the king of Northwest ferns. Turnbull appreciates its spiky shape, workhorse nature, and tolerance for sun, shade, clay and drought. "I'd be lost without sword ferns to move around people's gardens," she says, "and it's one of the very few plants that'll live under a conifer."

Camellia sasanqua 'Autumn Sun.' Known for its shiny evergreen leaves, it has a loose, lax habit ideal for espalier. Turnbull prefers camellias that flower early (in late autumn) like this one, or later into February, because their buds usually escape freezes. "This is really a useful plant that blooms when you need cheering up. Plus, the flowers don't shatter, fall off and look ugly like Camellia japonicas' do," says the ever-practical Turnbull.

Valerie Easton is a Seattle freelance writer and author of "A Pattern Garden." Check out her blog at www.valeaston.com. Whitney Stensrud is a Seattle Times assistant art director.