I haven't tried the blue nor have I tried the yellow, although I have often admired them both. Your story reminds me of my experience with Brunnera. Some things just don't seem to want to grow and with others it seems you can do no wrong. That's just part of gardening I suppose. Plants....go figure!

Bill

What got me started thinking about this was my beginning search through plant as opposed to seed catalogs. I am being reminded of the plants that I have tried multiple times to grow and decided this year to see if I could figure out the truth about some of them.

Yes, several years ago, I ruled out Brunnera after searching around and seeing that other people on the forum just couldn't keep them coming back. If most people in New England can't grow brunnera then I don't have to wonder why I can't.

I have identified a number of reasons why things may not come back:

1. "Zone optimism" on the part of the seller
2. Right zone but wrong heat or humidity for success
3. winter cut down of subshrubs that should have been left
4. failure to identify certain plants as "short-lived"

So one by one I am trying to figure these out so I can create a "for heaven's sake just stop planting these" list.

I also wonder if some of these plants are fussier about soil, heat, insects or diseases than one would imagine but these things aren't generally mentioned in catalogs or at nurseries. Normally, unless something is pointed out specifically as an area that needs special care, I assume that the plant will respond to normal good gardening practices.

My first impulse is to try it out and then figure out later what went wrong, if something does. I try to confine this to plants and seeds as opposed to trees and bushes. Just recently I bought a book on annuals that explained why I had not great success with certain annuals I had tried in the past. They petered out because they were "cool weather annuals". However they also listed as cool weather annuals, several annuals that I love and do well for me so I am glad I didn't eliminate them from my previous experiments based on the cool weather factor.

runktrun posted this a few years ago:

Why Did My Plant Die?
Geoffrey B. Charlesworth

You walked too close. You trod on it.
You dropped a piece of sod on it.
You hoed it down. You weeded it.
You planted it the wrong way up.
You grew it in a yogurt cup
But you forgot to make a hole;
The soggy compost took its toll.
September storm. November drought.
It heaved in March, the roots popped out.
You watered it with herbicide.
You scattered bonemeal far and wide.
Attracting local omnivores,
Who ate your plant and stayed for more.
You left it baking in the sun
While you departed at a run
To find a spade, perhaps a trowel,
Meanwhile the plant threw in the towel.
You planted it with crown too high;
The soil washed off, that explains why.
Too high pH. It hated lime.
Alas it needs a gentler clime.
You left the root ball wrapped in plastic.
You broke the roots. TheyÂre not elastic.
You walked too close. You trod on it.
You dropped a piece of sod on it.
You splashed the plant with mower oil.
You should do something to your soil.
Too rich. Too poor. Such wretched tilth.
Your soil is clay. Your soil is filth.
Your plant was eaten by a slug.
The growing point contained a bug.
These aphids are controlled by ants,
Who milk the juice, it kills the plants.
In early spring your gardenÂs mud.
You walked around! ThatÂs not much good.
With heat and light you hurried it.
You worried it. You buried it.
The poor plant missed the mountain air:
No heat, no summer muggs up there.
You overfed it 10-10-10.
Forgot to water it again.
You hit it sharply with the hose.
You used a can without a rose.
Perhaps you sprinkled from above.
You should have talked to it with love.
The nursery mailed it without roots.
You killed it with those gardening boots.
You walked too close. You trod on it.
You dropped a piece of sod on it