Look, I’m a gardening writer. I know the theory. I can tell you when to prune, when to feed and when to leave well alone. And yet, when it comes to killing in my garden, I’m ashamed to admit that I’m turning into someone who is, frankly, a bit shy of bolts.
Enter my husband: a professional gardener with two decades of experience, who is both infuriatingly knowledgeable and completely fearless with a pair of pruning shears. Also, I should add, he thinks I’m almost painfully careful when mortuary.
Yes, whenever he spots me dying roses or salvias, he will quietly take the pruners out of my hands before proceeding to cut anything that looks disturbing from the plant. I stand there inwardly wondering if I should call the Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Plants.
Stop being so coy when you’re dead
In order to settle the long deadlock once and for all, I cornered him after work while he was trying to cook dinner and asked him exactly what I did wrong.
As always, he was calm, kind…and absolutely convinced that I needed to be much braver.
(Image credit: Maryviolet/Getty Images)
Ever patient, he endured my barrage of barrage of questions as he tried to put together a bolognese that our picky kids could eat for once. “I know you hate to cut them because it’s like destroying the plant,” he told me, “but you’ve got to be braver with those shears.
“If you just remove the faded flower, you’re wasting your time repeat flowering plantsyou want to follow the flower stem to the first strong pair of healthy leaves or a side shoot, then make the cut just above that. There the plant can produce strong new growth.”
In other words, don’t just remove the dead flower itself. By following the spent flower stem up to a healthy leaf joint rather than leaving behind a short stem, you encourage the plant to direct its energy into producing fresh shoots and, ultimately, another flush of flowers.
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It’s not just me who’s afraid of going too far. My husband reassured me that most of his gardening clients get nervous every time he pulls out the pruning shears. But it’s important to remember, he added, how hardy most garden plants really are.
“We treat them like they’re fragile,” he laughed. “But it’s not. As long as you follow the flower stem back to a healthy part of the plant, most repeat-blooming plants do perfectly fine with a little tough love.”
That said, trust is only half the battle. “Keep your scissors sharp,” he advised me, barely looking up from the pan. “You don’t want to crush the stem, you want a clean, quick slice. Think of it like a surgery, not a slaughter.”
A clean cut heals faster and is less likely to leave the plant vulnerable to disease than a ragged stem. And my husband also pointed out that while most repeat flowering plants benefit from self-fertilization, there are exceptions.
(Image: Melanie Griffiths)
“Think of the once blooming roses“, he says. “If you have an old-fashioned climbing rose that blooms only once a year, don’t start cutting long stems back in mid-summer. You could remove next year’s flowers before they even form. Just arrange the spent blooms and leave the frame alone.”
Spring blooming bulbs a softer approach is also needed. “You can remove faded flower heads from daffodils and tulips if you want them to look tidier,” she explained, “but leave the leaves only until they turn yellow naturally. This foliage feeds the bulb for next year’s flowers.”
(Image: Olga Yastremska. Getty Images)
Lavender is another plant that deserves some attention. “Cut back faded flower spikes and trim soft green growth if tidying is needed, but don’t cut back old woody stems,” she suggested. “Lavender often does not grow back from old wood.”
And finally, don’t assume that every faded flower needs to be removed immediately. “Some late-season plants, like sedum, are often worth leaving alone. Their seeds look fantastic well into fall and provide food for birds and insects long after the flowers are over.”
All great advice as I’m sure you’ll agree. And while I’m still not as fearless as my husband with a pair of pruners, the next time I hover nervously over a faded bloom, wondering if I’ve overdone it, I’ll remember his advice: don’t just cut the flower—follow the stem.
Hey, I might even embroider it on a t-shirt!





