ALWAYS keep the labels.
You learn when there’s a man in your life to grab any printed directions and stash them for future reference. Men do not read labels or follow directions.
If you don’t, you are going to be faced with a washing machine that doesn’t work or lost somewhere out back of beyond.
What I have learned is to keep the labels from plants bought for the garden.
Google is always your best friend, but back BG (before Google) there were times I planted things in the wrong place, withering away in frost or becoming an enormous wide bush in front of some dainty daisies gasping pathetically for light and air.
I also learned that you couldn’t trust the descriptions on the labels.
“Luscious deep purple” would be what my mother called a violent puce, or “needs watering in summer” means that unless the hose is left constantly running it will kark it at the first sign of a moderately warm day.
So, I read the labels before anything gets its place in the garden, Google is consulted, and internet gardening pages are also asked questions.
Take the Fiddlewood tree.
Labelled as “aromatherapy” with promises of the utmost perfumed delight… I bought it – you think I would have learned by now, and at home Doctor Google said its its bark is used to make violin cases, BUT…
The gardening forum people said don’t plant it, it grows to 20 metres *thud* it gives some hayfever, and the pretty perfumed flowers make the lawn slippery.
But reading the labels also often cause me to think. For example…
The humble Red Hot Poker warns me that it should not be consumed or used in any medicinal application? Who eats or smokes red hot pokers?
I haven’t noticed any of the local birds that feast on them staggering around with their eyes rolling.
Leonotis, the same carries a similar warning that – “The plant is known for its medicinal and mild psychoactive properties.”
The thing about garden labels is to KEEP THEM. Nothing is worse than buying a plant that grows to be so magnificent it is much admired by visitors.
If you haven’t kept the label, you look like a goose as you drag your toes into the grass and say “well I don’t really know”.
At least if you have memorized the label, you can dazzle them by coming out with the scientific name – “ah yes! My Syzygium Australa, beautiful isn’t it.” and they gasp in admiration, The fact that it’s just a new form of Lilly Pilly, need not be mentioned…
It pays to keep the labels!