Here’s what you shouldn’t plant either.
Whether you’ve inherited certain plantings or put them in the ground before you realize how aggressive they can be, we’ve all had to deal with plants we don’t love. As an avid gardener, I’ve had more than my share of plants that got on my last nerve and eventually got yanked out (I may not be Grumpy, but sometimes I feel his pain!).
Some plants simply become maintenance problems, dropping messy seeds and sticks all season long. Others—whether we realize it or not—are considered invasive, meaning they compete with or crowd out native species. When shopping, if you’re not sure about a plant’s invasive status, consult the Invasive Plant Atlas or the Missouri Botanical Garden’s Plant Finder to learn what plants are not good choices where you live.
Gardening is a learning process, so if you’ve planted something you don’t love—or discovered it’s aggressive or invasive—go ahead and remove it. A garden should bring joy, not frustration!
Ahead, these are the plants I’ll never grow again:
Lily of the Valley
Convallaria majalis
Long ago, before I was a seasoned gardener, someone shared some pips of this perennial with me. With its darling fragrant bell-shaped flowers, it seemed like the ideal groundcover for my poor, sandy soil. The bad news is that this plant is considered invasive in some places. It’s also incredibly hard to get rid of because even the tiniest piece of rhizome (underground stem) will sprout a new plant. While it might be fine in the right setting, such as between the house and sidewalk, it’s not for me.
Creeping Jenny
Lysimachia nummularia
Gold, coin-shaped leaves make this an attractive groundcover, but it’s not my favorite plant because it’s aggressive, choking out nearby perennials. It’s even considered invasive in some places. Fortunately, it’s easy to remove if you pull the new growth as you see it. If you love it so much that you have to plant it, use it only in containers where the stems can’t touch the ground and root. But be vigilant or you’ll be sorry.
Bradford Pear
Pyrus calleryana
I inherited this plant when we moved into our home, and I was not happy, knowing how problematic these trees are. Introduced in the 1960s, Bradford pear became a favorite of landscapers with early spring blooms and pretty fall foliage. But the flowers stink, and right about the time these trees develop their attractive oval-ish shape, they split due to a weak structural form. Worst of all, these trees have become invasive, crossing with other Callery cultivars to create wild hybrids that produce four-inch-long thorns. Thankfully, mine blew down in a storm and was replaced with my rose garden, a much better option!
English Ivy
Hedera helix
My parents inherited this groundcover when they bought their house, and, as their resident weed picker as a kid, I quickly learned it was a bit of a nightmare. This vining plant will choke out other plants and offers good cover for mosquitoes. It roots from seeds, roots and leaf nodes, so it grows aggressively and can reach up to 100 feet tall and wide. Just say “no” to this plant!
Eastern Cottonwood
Populus deltoides
This tree, inherited when we moved in, made life miserable. The prolific white seeds floated down like an army of tiny skydivers every spring, turning my newly-mulched beds and patio white, sticking to window screens, and being sucked into my air conditioning unit. The wood is also weak and the roots are large and shallow. Sick of the annual mess, it was removed and replaced with my native plants pollinator garden, which is a much better use of space!
Mint
Mentha spp.
I should explain that it’s not that I’d never grow mint again: It’s one of my earliest gardening memories, going outside to pick mint leaves from my parents’ herb garden. But I’ve learned it’s way, way, way too aggressive to plant in ground. Instead, I keep it in a large pot and manage its spread by harvesting regularly and pulling up any escaped pieces. I still enjoy it as a culinary herb but it no longer can take over my other plantings.
Silver Maple
Acer saccharinum
Silver maple is sold everywhere as a fast-growing shade tree. Long ago, I made the mistake of planting one. However, its large, knobby surface roots became problematic, it dropped tons of seeds, and it had weak wood that constantly dropped sticks. Sick of its messiness, it was removed, opening up the landscape for a new perennial bed. Lesson learned!
Read the original article on Southern Living