4 Varieties I’ll Never Grow Again (and What I’m Growing Instead)

As a flower farmer in the high desert, I’m always on the hunt for reliable fillers and foliage to complement our blooms. With limited perennials and the challenges of growing in arid conditions, finding the right greenery—especially in spring—can be a struggle.

Over the years, I’ve tried many varieties to fill the gap. While some became favorites, others were complete flops. A few were even outright dangerous to grow!

Here are four varieties I won’t grow again (at least on purpose) and what I’ve chosen to grow instead.

A fresh harvest of heirloom mums, eucalyptus, dusty miller, thornless raspberry foliage, sweet pea vines, and blushing lanterns—perfect for autumn arrangements.

Sweet Annie (Artemisia Annual)

Sweet Annie first caught my attention as a unique greenery option, with bonus points for being a great wreath component. Its scent was pleasant and intense—exactly as I expected.

What I didn’t expect, however, was the extreme allergic reaction my family and I experienced. Between nonstop sneezing and headaches, it became clear Sweet Annie wasn’t worth the trouble. Worse, letting it go to seed made it invasive. Any volunteers that pop up now get pulled immediately.

What I Grow Instead:
For late summer greenery, I’ve replaced Sweet Annie with upright amaranth, millet, eucalyptus, and currant tomatoes. Scented geraniums have also become a favorite as they kick into gear.

Snow on the Mountain (Euphorbia marginata)

Snow on the Mountain is stunning, and I knew the risks of its milky latex sap when I decided to try growing it. However, I underestimated just how dangerous it could be. Even with gloves, I had a severe reaction—the worst I’ve ever experienced from a plant.

The sap left me with a swollen, sunburned face and symptoms that felt like a bad allergic reaction. I was so unwell that I canceled all orders for the week, spent two days recovering in bed, and avoided the sun for nearly four. After that ordeal, I knew I could never justify the risk of growing this plant commercially.

While it’s disappointing to lose such a gorgeous foliage option with great vase life, the safety of myself and my customers comes first. Volunteers still pop up occasionally, but I pull them out immediately.

What I Grow Instead:
I’ve replaced Snow on the Mountain with safer options like bupleurum, bells of Ireland, giant rattle poppies, seeded cress, and seeded orach. These varieties provide vibrant greenery and work beautifully earlier in the season.

A visually stunning arrangement of Italian ranunculus, butterfly ranunculus, scabiosa, raspberry leaves, bupleurum, larkspur tips, and dill leaves, displayed in a white compote at sunset. While the dill leaves add a delicate texture, their scent mingled with the clove-like aroma of sweet peas and lightly rose-scented ranunculus created an unexpectedly off-putting combination.

Bouquet Dill

Bouquet dill is undeniably beautiful. It’s easy to direct-sow in cooler temperatures, grows quickly, fills a bouquet fast, and has a surprisingly good vase life.

Unfortunately, it has two major downsides that make it a no-go for me. First, the smell—while I enjoy dill in pickles Grandma’s potato salad, it doesn’t belong in a bouquet of flowers. Second, it’s an aphid magnet. The aphids seem to treat bouquet dill as their personal paradise, and dealing with them isn’t worth the hassle.

Adding to the trouble, bouquet dill self-sows prolifically. One year, it infiltrated my sweet pea row, creating one of the worst scent combinations imaginable. I can’t unlive the experience of smelling dill and sweet peas together, and I won’t repeat it!

What I Grow Instead:
For filler with similar qualities, I now grow White Select (Ammi majus), Green Mist (Ammi visnaga), and Chocolate Lace Flower (Daucus carota). These varieties offer the delicate, airy look I loved about dill, without the smell or pest problems. For delicate lacy features, cosmo foliage can also be a great alternative!

Apple of Peru

Apple of Peru promised lush, dramatic greenery, and it certainly delivered. However, its downsides quickly outweighed its benefits. The leaves were constantly chewed up by pests, leaving them looking ragged and unappealing. Worse, this variety proved to be incredibly invasive.

Despite not planting it for over three years, I’m still pulling out volunteers all over the farm. While its persistence might be a bonus for some, I’ve grown tired of the constant battle to remove it. Customers, too, have had mixed reactions—some appreciate its unique look, while others think it feels “weedy.”

To complicate matters further, my husband, Graham, loves it. He sees it as a great filler and occasionally “forbids” me from pulling it out. We’ve reached a compromise: I rip it out when he’s not looking!

What I Grow Instead:
For greenery that’s less invasive and more reliable, I’ve turned to currant tomatoes, scented geraniums, and ornamental grasses. These options are versatile, more pest-resistant, and bring a beautiful texture to arrangements.

An evergreen holiday wreath featuring locally sourced evergreen, variegated holly, oven-dried citrus, and tufts of bunny tail grasses from the farm. Ornamental grasses like bunny tails aren’t just lovely when used fresh; they’re also incredibly versatile for off-season products. Unlike Apple of Peru, which shatters and scatters seeds when dried, bunny tails hold up beautifully.

Every flower farmer has their own list of varieties that didn’t work out, and these are mine. While it can be frustrating to invest time and space in crops that don’t perform, each “failure” teaches us something valuable. Whether it’s an unexpected allergic reaction, pest problems, or invasive tendencies, these experiences have helped refine my crop plans and discover better alternatives.

For me, finding reliable fillers and greenery is an ongoing journey, especially in our high-desert environment. By replacing Sweet Annie, Snow on the Mountain, Bouquet Dill, and Apple of Peru with safer, more dependable options, I’ve created a greener, more enjoyable workspace—and bouquets that are both beautiful and worry-free.

Have you had similar experiences with plants you’ll never grow again? I’d love to hear your stories—and your go-to replacements—in the comments!

We are looking forward to sharing more blooms with you soon.

Jessica & Graham