-
Now available for $24.95 including shipping. -
Now available for $21.00 including postage. Vendors I Like
Click Here to buy from Cobrahead
Learning about Gardening
While it’s true that I spend a lot of time studying and reading about plants, much of what I know comes from paying attention – outdoors, in the garden. Observation is a great teacher, I recommend it to you. Here are a few of my recent observations.
Blazing Star
Last week I was admiring a nice stand of blazing star, also called gayfeather (Liatris spp.). It is a spiky plant with bluish-purple flowers (or occasionally white) and in my part of the world it is just coming into bloom. The flower stalks stand up anywhere from 18-36 inches in clumps that increase in size each year. I’ve not had much luck with it – mine has tended to disappear after a year or two. I have tried 3 or more different species of it, none of which was long lived.
The owner of the Liatris offered me a clump or two, saying that her stand – 50 or more plants distributed over a 20 foot circle – was made up of “volunteers” that had all come from one plant. I was amazed to discover (when I went to dig out a clump) that they were not rooted in the earth. They were growing in the 2-3 inches of bark mulch that was sitting on weed mat that is impenetrable to roots. A light bulb went on in my head.
What I learned is that Liatris does well in dry, lean soil – or no soil at all (bark mulch has little nutritional value to plants). It needs no fertilizer. I have a garden with rich soil full of organic matter, and in most places on my property the soil stays moist, even in dry times. In the winter it can be downright soggy. Looking in Steven Still’s book, Manual of Herbaceous Ornamental Plants I read confirmation: “One should avoid soggy soil situations during the winter.” Aha! I should have checked before I planted. He also notes that Liatris blooms from top of the stem downward, the opposite of most flower spikes.
Digging out a small dandelion in my vegetable garden recently I got the entire root by loosening the soil around it with my CobraHead weeder. As I was about to toss the weed into a bucket I noticed an inch section of the root was as almost as thick as a pencil but the rest was much smaller. Aha! I≠d had help in my garden, and one of my weeders had pulled a dandelion but broken off the root. That small section of root had spawned a new plant.
The lesson from that dandelion? Be careful pulling weeds, particularly those that are perennial or have tap roots. Even a small section left in the ground will produce a new plant. I know people who rototill their gardens year after year, chopping up dandelion roots, grasses and annual weeds. The annual weeds can be killed by tilling; grasses and perennial weeds usually are not.
If you hear a root snap when you are weeding, a plant will probably come back. So loosen the soil well, and try to get the entire weed. Weed when the soil is moist, even if it means watering before weeding. And use a good tool like the CobraHead (www.cobrahead.com) to get under weeds to loosen roots.
Snakeroot
It’s been hot and dry recently, which is not a great time for transplanting perennials. But I was installing a new garden bed, and we had a spot for a large plant. I wanted a full-sized bugbane or snakeroot (Cimicifuga racemosa) for the spot, although few nurseries sell plants the size I wanted. But I had one in my garden – a volunteer that had elbowed its way in. A gorgeous plant, it stood over 5-feet tall but was shading out the neighboring plants. It needed to go.
I hadn’t dug a snakeroot in a long time, but decided it was worth a try after Anne Sprague at Edgewater Farm in Plainfield, NH told me that it has a shallow root system and transplants quite well (things with deep tap roots or fleshy tubers are not so easy to transplant).
I dug the plant early in the morning, and re-planted it with half an hour. I dug it out with my drain spade. This is a pointed spade that is long and narrow: 16 inches long and only 5 or 6 inches wide, available at your local hardware store. I went around the plant, poking my spade under the roots at a 45 degree angle and lifting it slightly by pulling down on the handle. Once I had gone all around the plant, I pried it up and scooped up the plant.
Superthrive
Yes, that snakeroot took some special care for a week or more. I checked on it, watered it daily, even talked to it – words of encouragement cannot hurt. I also administered a solution of Superthrive (www.superthrive.com), a concentrated vitamin and hormone mixture that seems to reduce signs of plant stress. It’s expensive – $12 or more for 4 ounces, but only half a teaspoon is needed in a 2-gallon watering can. I’ve been using it for years, and seen stressed plants recover remarkably quickly when they get it. It’s not a fertilizer, but I often mix it in with some liquid fish fertilizer when I transplant.
Gardening for me is a passion. I love digging in the soil, planting, seeing new plants develop and grow. By observing well and remembering what works, I have created some very special gardens. You can, too.
Gardening: A Metaphor for Life
Gardening can be considered a metaphor for life. Some gardeners like their gardens – and their lives – simple and predictable. They plant things that they know will succeed and look good: daffodils, daylilies, marigolds, purple cone flowers and such. I grow all those things, but I like to take some risks, too. After all, I could be run over by a bus before the end of the growing season (though my mother did a good job of teaching me to look both ways before crossing). And I want to have the joys of growing special plants that are not necessarily hardy here.
I’m a plant collector and get great joy in growing plants that are outside their climatic zone (or that require special conditions) and seeing them do well. Taking a risk in the garden is different than racing motorcycles or skiing down the north face of Mt. Washington. Yes, I did once spend $75 on a yellow ladyslipper that did not make it through the winter because a dog dug it up, exposing the roots. But that was not personally perilous. I recommend taking some risks in the garden.
Calycanthus Floridus
My most recent ≈risk≈ was planting a shrub variously called, spicebush, Carolina allspice or sweet bubby. Those names are from my bible of woody plants, Manual of Woody Landscape Plants by Michael Dirr. Sweet bubby – that’s worth planting just for the name! Its Latin name is Calycanthus floridus Just as plants with botanical names including canadensis indicate northern origins, plants with floridus indicate southern plants. So it may not do well here.
I am a sucker for plants in bloom. I was recently at EC Brown≠s nursery in Thetford Hill, VT (www.ecbrownsnursery.com) and saw that new-to-me shrub, spicebush or sweet bubby, in bloom, and had to take one home. The blossoms are a deep dark red, globe-shaped and about 2 inches in diameter. According to Dirr≠s book, it is considered hardy to Zone 4, but “-15 or -20 is the breakpoint – flowers occur on short shoots from leaf axils along the entire stem length, i.e. where buds are present; even if shoot tips are winter killed, the potential for good flowering is excellent.” So I am optimistic that it will survive and thrive for me.
After my sister, Ruth Anne Mitchell, died unexpectedly two years ago I planted some plants of dubious hardiness here in her honor. Ruth Anne was a risk taker – she was an intrepid international traveler who thought nothing of hiking a hundred mile through a war zone such as Liberia during the civil war there. While working for an international aid agency she was once captured by teenage rebels carrying automatic weapons and who were high on drugs. They thought she would be scared. Not so. She lectured them, and asked if they would treat their mothers like that. Chagrinned, they brought her to their adult leader who reprimanded them and then let her continue on her way.
Among the plants that I planted in memory of Ruth Anne that did not survive were bunchberry (Cornus canadensis), trailing arbutus (Epigea repens) and that yellow ladyslipper. I also planted 3 blue Himalayan poppies (Meconopsis betonicifolia ), and 2 died that first winter. The third bloomed but died the following winter. Undaunted, I bought 3 more from Cady≠s Falls Nursery (www.cadysfallsnursery.com) in Morrisville, VT this year. That one successful poppy, with true sky-blue blossoms, gave me great joy, taught me where to plant it – and gave me the willingness to try again.
Darmera peltata
Of all the flowers I planted for Ruth Anne, the most successful was the umbrella plant (Darmera peltata). My bible of perennials, Steven Stills≠ Manual of Herbaceous Ornamental Plants, lists it as only hardy in Zones 5-7 (minus 20 to zero in the coldest parts of winter). The first year after planting it limped along, but this spring it sent up numerous flower spikes with lovely pink flowers before the leaves appeared. And now those umbrella leaves are a foot across and the clump covers a 4-foot circle.
The key to out-of-zone success is getting the soil and sun requirements right for the plant. Acidity, drainage and exposure to cold winds really do make a difference. Even though the books by Dirr and Stills cost well over $100 for the pair, I think they are worth the investment: they tell you not only cold hardiness, they tell you what kind of soil is needed. I know the world wide web is supposed to have all answers, but I like an authoritative book that I can depend on.
Most nurseries have Dirr’s book on hand, and will let you read it before deciding if you should invest in a woody plant. Dirr’s book is very personal, with his strong feelings expressed, and anecdotes about where he has seen a particular plant growing. I use Stills≠ book to tailor the soil for perennials at planting time: he details the fertility needed, so I know if I should add plenty of organic fertilizer, just a little, or none at all.
Take a good look at your own garden. Are you willing to try some new plants? I spent hours this past weekend pulling out the roots of Queen of the Prairie (Filipendula rubra) so that I could plant my new spicebush or Œsweet bubby≠. And if it doesn≠t survive? Well, I’ll have a good place to try another interesting plant!
Keeping the Deer at Bay, the Weeds at an Arm’s Length
Karen Gillock and her husband, Rick Simons, live near the end of a dead-end dirt road in Cornish, NH. Karen has a big vegetable garden with 3 dozen tomato plants and much more. The garden allows them to eat fresh produce all summer and put up a year’s worth of tomato sauce each fall. Because she has a busy professional life, Karen has devised systems to produce her summer’s bounty with a minimum of effort – and to protect it from a forest full of hungry deer.
wood-sided raised beds
This spring Karen decided to install wood-sided raised beds, each 3- by 8-feet. That’s a nice size: she can reach the middle of a bed from either side without straining. She had the beds made using rough-sawn hemlock obtained from a local saw mill. The boards for the beds are a full 2- by 8-inches. Hemlock is quite resistant to rot, and with luck should last 8 to10 years. Pine will work, but won’t last as long. Pressure treated wood should be avoided as toxins from it may leach into the soil.
landscape fabric to cover each bed
Weeding is not one of Karen’s favorite pastimes. For years she has spread black landscape fabric over her entire garden to exclude the weeds, just slicing the fabric as needed to make room for her plants. This year, with the new wood beds, she has had to modify the arrangement slightly, cutting landscape fabric to cover each bed. Rick ordered a roll of good quality landscape fabric (one you cannot tear and that is rated for 15 years of use outdoors). The fabric allows rain to penetrate, but no sun – which keeps out the weeds.
Karen had the beds filled with her garden soil and enriched it with extra compost. A tractor with a bucket did the job in just a few hours (instead of days of back-breaking labor that would be required to do it by hand). Then, with a helper, she stretched the landscape fabric over the beds and stapled it in place, carefully folding the fabric on the corners the way you might wrap a present. Her stapler is the kind used by builders for installing insulation, not an office type.
To plant the beds, Karen sliced through the fabric, cutting a row or open square big enough to insert the plants or seeds. This fall she will use duct tape to close the slits and next year will plant into different places.
For some plants – lettuce for example – weeds never had a chance. As the plants got bigger, they shaded out any daring young weeds. Others, such as her prize tomatoes, had enough space to grow a few weeds, too, but many fewer than if she had just planted them uncovered in the ground. Another advantage of the fabric: some tomato blights are soil-borne and infect plants when the spores splash up onto the lower leaves. The fabric should minimize that splash-up, though some blight is air-borne, so it’s not a sure preventive for blight.
Then there are the deer. Instead of fencing the entire garden, Karen decided to build shields over some beds with veggies that appeal to deer. Deer always go for her lettuce, chard and – this year – they have gone after peppers and broccoli, too. But her tomatoes have never been bothered by her deer, nor have they eaten her herbs, onions, cucumbers or squash.
Protecting plants from deer
Rick got her a roll of 4-foot wide welded steel fencing (with 2-inch openings) and a roll of 2-foot wide fencing (with 1-inch openings). Using tins snips, Karen cut 7-foot lengths of fencing and arched them over the 3-foot wide beds. Each bed needed 2 pieces of the 4-foot wide fencing to cover its 8-foot length. She used plastic tie-wraps to attach the two pieces of fencing side-by side. It is heavy enough that it doesn’t flop or bend, but stands up nicely and can be lifted off for harvesting. Karen used the 2-foot wide fencing to make end pieces to keep the dome structurally sound and to prevent enterprising deer from sticking their heads inside to grab a bite of her lettuce.
With left over fencing Karen surrounded the beds that were not covered with domes that might be of interest to deer. She was surprised when the deer walked into the enclosed section of garden – she had left just a small open “doorway” so that she could get in herself. Lesson learned: hungry deer are not afraid of walking into small enclosures if they see something they want. So she surrounded those beds with 4-foot fencing attached to grade stakes, right next to the beds. The beds are small enough that deer haven’t jumped over the fence to get inside such tight quarters.
The best arrangement I’ve ever seen for thwarting deer was at Fort Ticonderoga. There is a vegetable garden that is protected (after the tourists go home) with an electric horse fence. It is one that could easily be jumped by deer, but the deer are afraid of it. Each night workers spread peanut butter on squares of aluminum foil, attach the squares with clothes pins, then turn on the fence. Deer come, attracted to the smell of peanut butter. The smart deer just taste the electrified peanut butter once. The dummies learn more slowly, but never cross the fence. It must give them quite a jolt.