Maybe Metasequoia glyptostroboides rolls off your tongue now, but there was a time when you felt intimidated by botanical Latin.
When I opened up the Dirr book for my first woody plants class, I laughed out loud. Yeah, right! Now I try to work phrases like Ceratostigma plumbaginoides and Hakonechloa macra into the conversation. Here are some plant names that trip up newbie horticulturists and a few that make experienced ones stumble, too.
Cotoneaster. It sure looks like “cotton Easter.” Alas, it is no fluffy-tailed bunny reference, but rather, “Kuh-TONE-e-ass-ter.” Similarly, Cotinus is not “cotton-us,” but “ko-TINE-us.”
Liriope. This one has many aliases: LEER-e-ope, LEER-e-o-pee, lilyturf, monkeygrass, spider plant. Call it luh-RYE-o-pee, and leave it at that.
Rhododendron. It’s not Rhododendrum, nor is it Liriodendrum for that matter. But Oxydendrum is correct, not Oxydendron. Go figure.
Hamamelis ×intermedia ‘Arnold Promise’. Witchhazel. It’s ‘Arnold Promise’, not ‘Arnold’s Promise’. I have seen and heard it referenced both ways, but only recently realized the possessive is not correct. My bad.
Forsythia. It’s forsythia, not “for Cynthia.” Though, if you were giving one to your friend Cynthia, that would be totally acceptable.
Prunus ×cistena. Purple-leaf sand cherry or purple-leaf plum. It’s cistena, not “Christina.” Again, if you give one to your friend Christina, I guess you could call it Christina’s plum. But why would you? I mean, purple-leaf ninebark is such a better plant. But I digress…
Viburnum nudum ‘Winterthur’. This one I am still working on. According to Winterthur’s web site, it is not pronounced how it looks, but as “Winter-tour.” I feel kind of snobbish pronouncing it that way.
Juniper. If you still call it “Jupiter,” you’re giving yourself away as not too conversant in plants. Your landscaper will likely charge you double.
Thuja. Arborvitae. It is pronounced “THOO-ya,” not “THOO-ja.” Sometimes in English gardening books you will see Buddleja instead of the American English Buddleia. Same thing. “BUD-lee-yuh.”
Hibiscus. Hibiscus, not hibiscuits. Though “hibiscuits” is really cute.
Malus. Apple or crabapple. For years I have got this one wrong. It’s not “MAL-us,” but “MALE-us.”
This list is rounded out by a few plant names that have truly given me a chuckle over the years in the business: “iguanymous” for “euonymus,” “camel syphilis” for “chamaecyparis,” and my personal favorite, “Miskillus ‘Grisanthemus'” for Miscanthus ‘Gracillimus.” Did I miss any of your favorites?
Once, while perusing the various offerings at a greenhouse, I asked if they had any bromeliads tucked away. The salesperson smugly informed me that I meant to say “bromelaids,” and no they did not.
Ha, that’s great. I was at Mt. Airy Arboretum in Cincinnati one day, admiring the magnolias in full bloom, and a guy got out of his car and told his girlfriend very confidently, “We got them in Atlanta. Them are dogwoods!” I had to restrain myself and not say anything. But yeah, when someone corrects you directly, and they’re wrong, and trying to be some kind of authority, that’s hard to swallow. You gotta just smile and nod and move on.