On a recent trip to southern France I was fascinated by what some people might term “tree abuse”. The French love to turn certain trees into sculpted forms by removing all new growth each year – or most, depending on the age of the tree. The English term for this type of pruning is “pollarding”. I have decided I shall give it a try.
The English plane tree (Platanus x. acerifolia) is the most commonly pollarded tree in southern France, though I have seen other fast-growing trees treated the same way, notably lindens (Tilia spp). Plane trees are reminiscent of our sycamores (Platanus occidentalis), with bark that looks a bit like the patterns and colors of camouflage clothing. They are commonly used to line city streets and rural lanes.
The plane tree is fast growing and survives in most places – even along the Canal du Midi, the seventeenth-century canal that connects the Mediterranean to the Atlantic. I spent a day biking the canal and was amazed to see plane tree roots cross the towpath and reach into the water – like pythons slithering out of the earth and into the canal. But I noticed that the plane tree sheds branches freely, dropping small branches onto my path. I gather it is a somewhat weak-wooded tree, though perhaps not as weak as our willows (Salix spp.) or box elder (Acer negundo).
Driving through the town of Puisserguier, in the Languedoc, I admired the ‘allees’ or rows of plane trees that lined their streets. Then one day I came back and saw that all new growth had been cut off, creating an eerie, Edward Gorey-like atmosphere. Workers with a boom truck were just finishing up a major task, clearing out the clutter by cutting off all the upper branches.
These big trees showed huge knobs, scars where this had been done many times. I spoke to a tree specialist, who explained that plane tree branches can grow 6-9 feet per year, so they cut off all new growth on mature trees every other year. By cutting back the smaller branches to the trunk or a major branch, much weak wood is eliminated and weight taken off the major branches. It keeps trees from getting too tall. And it creates wonderful sculpture.
Another benefit of pollarding a tree is that it creates dense shade. Cutting back the trees encourages them to send out multiple shoots. From the scarred knobs created in previous years, a half dozen branches will erupt. That creates dense foliage. The Mediterranean sun is hot in summer, and town squares are generally shaded from its intensity by pollarded plane trees, much as our American elms once shaded Main Street.
When I return from France I will experiment with my seven-sons flower tree (Heptacodium micinioides). This is a fast-growing tree that blooms in the fall; the blossoms are small, white and lightly fragrant. It is originally from China, and has only started to become popular in the nursery trade in the last 20 years. I got mine about 10 years ago at EC Brown Nursery in Thetford, Vermont (www.ecbrownsnursery.com).
It is a medium-sized tree – the largest specimen I’ve seen is about 30 feet tall. But it can send up shoots 6 feet in a year, and I have struggled to keep mine the size and shape I want. It is near the house and several times it has attempted to send shoots indoors through a second-floor window. So I have pruned it hard, but never removed enough branches to create a pollarded look. The main trunk is now about 4-inches or more in diameter and 10 feet tall. It has one major bifurcation – where the trunk branches into 2 major branches. So I will cut off all the branches back to those two branches. Later, I may let a single new stem continue to grow and thicken, creating a higher point for pollarding.
So what else have I learned in France? I think I pamper some of my plants too much. I know that thyme, rosemary and lavender thrive in lean soil that is low in fertility. But it is hard for me to deny them some compost at planting time. Off-road biking here I have found them growing wild – thriving – in sandy dry soil, which should be a lesson to me.
Similarly, grapes here do fabulously in dry, rocky soil. One vintner, an organic grower at Domaine Bordes (A.O.C. Saint Chinian) told me that he uses no fertilizer. He said that his grapes do just fine, producing great flavor – but in smaller quantities than conventional growers who use chemical fertilizers. Grape growers often mulch with gravel in France, a technique I haven’t yet tried.
Lastly, I saw sheep’s wool used as mulch around trees. There is not much market for raw wool in France – or in the States. If you have a friend with sheep or llamas, you might be able to get some wool. It will keep down weeds, hold in moisture, and slowly break down, providing some nitrogen. Still, I’m not sure I like the look – perhaps it would be good in my blackberry patch, or around apple trees that are not in view every day.
So if you travel, observe. And send me your observations – we can all learn new techniques from each other, and from different cultures.
Contact Henry at henry.homeyer@comcast.net or P.O. Box 364, Cornish Flat, NH 03746.
Now that I’ve put my garden to bed, I have time to think back about gardens I visited during the summer – and decide what I should try next summer. This year I had the great good fortune to spend 3 hours at Sakonnet Garden and Wildmeadow, the gardens of John Gwynne and Mike Folcarelli in Little Compton, Rhode Island. For the past 30 years they have been making and re-making gardens on about an acre of what started as a cornfield surrounding an early 1900’s Cape. They prove the point that a garden is never done: there is always something new to try.
I asked John what his garden passions have been. He said he loves playing with light in the garden: creating spaces – garden rooms – that are either bright and colorful or dark and shady. He creates special effects with plants – enclosing silver-foliaged plants with dark green hedges, for example. He enjoys showcasing dramatic plants, placing them in full sun at the end of a long dark path. He is also passionate about restoring meadows so that birds like bobolinks and meadowlarks can breed and succeed.
Like me, John is a plant collector, and one who tests plants to find which ones grow and look the best. At one point he and Mike had 500 rhododendrons, for example. They have thinned that collection down to “just” 100 or so.
As I walked through the gardens I made notes of things I might like to try, both plants and planting techniques. One of the first things I noted was their capricious use of unusual items as hose guards. Hose guards allow you to drag a 100-foot hose through the garden and go around corners without knocking over or damaging plants. They used baseball bats half buried in the soil and antique croquet wickets. I really liked their use of tool handles – old shovel handles that had snapped off – as hose guards. It is recycling at its best.
The gardens are divided up into rooms with walls, generally at least 6 feet tall. Some were made of living material –hedges or vines on trellises – and others were made from a variety of non-living materials, including stone.
One wall that caught my attention was made of logs. Logs – suitable as firewood – were simply stacked up, each piece about 2 feet long. The wall was a good 8-feet tall and made of logs that varied in diameter from an inch to six inches or more. There is a door that leads out of the room – with a gate. An iron frame that supports logs over the door; the door itself was made of flat welded iron with metal screening attached.
Training vines can be tricky, especially if you want them to travel laterally through the air. The solution they found was to roll out 25 feet or more of chicken wire, then shape it into a long roll. A three-foot width of chicken wire, when rolled up tightly, makes a form that is structurally strong enough to be suspended between trees or walls and support vines. They intermingled 2 plants: winter creeper ( Euonymus fortunei) and Japanese holly (Ilex crenata), training them to flow through the air.
John and Mike grow a number of plants that are generally considered invasive pests – things like giant hogweed (Heracleum mantegazzianum) and a variegated-leafed form of Japanese knotweed (Polygonum cuspidatum). And although I do not recommend using such plants, they have figured out ways to do so – and to contain them responsibly.
Giant hogweed grows to be 6-10 feet high and has flowers that can exceed 2-feet in diameter. They are careful to pick the flowers before they go to seed, thus preventing them from spreading. Me? I grew it before I knew better, and was able to eradicate it when I learned it can be invasive. It will grow in sun or shade, wet or dry, and has roots that go down 3 feet or more into the soil. I still watch for it, and occasionally an old seed will germinate and create another plant.
Japanese knotweed (seen along roadsides and streams and commonly called ‘bamboo’) spreads by root, so they contain it in sections of concrete well pipe – the kind that is used to contain shallow hand-dug wells. Each piece of the pipe is 30 inches in diameter and 3-4 feet long. The pipe makes a terrific planter – it is simple, sturdy, and creates a root zone deep enough for most plants, but also deep enough to contain wandering invasives.
Their garden also uses snow fence as walls for rooms. Most snow fence is 4-feet tall, but they special order 6-foot snow fence made by Griffin Fence Company in Griffin, Georgia and have it shipped to them. They support the fencing with 4-inch square posts and grow vines or hedges to make the fencing disappear, especially since they paint it black. It works well for them as deer proofing.
If you’d like to see these phenomenal gardens, John and Mike will be holding a series of open days next summer, and possibly a day of workshops next spring. Their Web site, www.sakonnetgarden.com will list the dates of their upcoming events – though the Web address may change by spring.
I will never have the time and energy to build gardens as fine as those of Mike and John, but next summer I hope try to try some of their ideas.
Henry’s Web site is www.Gardening-Guy.com.
Making Houseplants Happy in Winter
I’m sure you’ve had the same problem I do now: aphids on your houseplants. We’ve had them outside all summer, and they never showed signs of any aphids. But bring them inside and we have those little bugs sucking their juices out (because there are no good bugs inside eating those pesky aphids). Aphids are less than a quarter of an inch long, often clear or light brown, and leave stickiness all over the leaves. What’s a person to do?
First, you should wash the plants before they move indoors. I put them on the lawn and spray them with a vigorous stream of water from the hose. Not enough to rip leaves, but a good strong spray. It is important to get both sides of the leaves washed, the stems, and the soil surface. That’s right, turn the plant on its side and spray the soil to wash off eggs or aphids lurking there.
If you have already brought in your plants, inspect them daily for signs of aphids. I know the plants that, year after year, are most susceptible to aphids. I keep them in isolation, even if I have washed them off. I love my potted Impatiens that I have on the north-facing deck all summer, and want to keep them over from one year to the next – but I know I will have aphids on them. And someone gave me a potted Meyer lemon tree – in part because it is a magnet for aphids.
Another technique to minimize aphids only works on things like rosemary, which is somewhat frost hardy: leave them outside to go through a few frosts before bringing them in. That will allow Mother Nature to kill off the aphids for you. But be careful – it’s easy to kill off plants if it gets too cold.
Then there is the “let-it-go-dormant” approach to tender plants. Many houseplants were originally from Africa or other tropical places. If they go dormant in their native country during the dry season, you can probably let them go dormant for you here. I have let my oxalis and ginger plants get completely dry for months at a time, and they come back to life when watered in the spring. They should not be kept in a warm room, however, so try to keep them at about 50 degrees, and preferably in a dark room – or in a brown paper bag.
Plants that have been outside all summer get cranky when brought inside, but you can help their attitude by providing the right amount of light and water. Too much water is a common cause of root rot and plant death or decline. Outdoors there are nice breezes to evaporate excess water in the soil, summer temperatures are warmer, and sunshine is stronger. So water only when the soil is dry to the touch an inch down. If you know your plants and pots, you can tell if water is needed just by hefting the pot.
If you have city water, it has chlorine in it, and many plants do not like chlorine. But that’s easy to fix: plan ahead. Fill a pitcher of water in the evening, and most of the chlorine will evaporate by the next night. Or you can use brook water, rain water – or heck, Perrier, if you want!
Light is another issue. The glass of your windows absorbs a lot of energy of the sun – it’s why you cannot get a tan indoors, even lying in the sun room all day with the Sunday New York Times. Sun-loving plants are the hardest to please. This year I have set up some LED lights over three of my large plants. These lights use much less energy than fluorescent lamps (28 watts to get the equivalent of 250 watts of standard incandescent light), and are sold specifically for growing plants. Mine are from Sunshine Systems (www.sunshine-systems.com or 866-576-586), their Glow Panel 45. Each panel has 112 little red or blue LED lights. I put mine on a timer so they will turn on and off automatically. They are not inexpensive, but should last for 50,000 hours. I shall see this year if that supplemental light will make a big difference to my plants.
South facing windows are best for sun-loving plants. Get your plants as close to the glass as you can, I put several pots in a big window in a rubber boot tray that I got from Gardeners Supply Company (www.gardeners.com or 888-833-1412). The tray keeps spills from getting onto the floor.
Humidity is a problem for some plants in winter, especially orchids. You can increase the moisture around your plant by putting the pot in a saucer filled with gravel. Keep water in the saucer and it will evaporate, while avoiding the problem of roots sitting in standing water, which is almost universally bad for plants.
Knowing your houseplants and what their needs are is half the battle of having nice ones. The best book I have encountered on caring for houseplants, and the specifics on individual plants is no longer in print, but is readily available in used bookstores. It’s called Making Things Grow: A Practical Guide for the Indoor Gardener by Thalassa Cruso.
If do get aphids, even after washing them outdoors, spray them with Safer Soap, a product that is safe and easy to use – or or take them with you the next time you shower!
Henry’s new book is Organic Gardening (not just) in the Northeast: A Hands-On, Month-by-Month Guide. His Web site is www.Gardening-guy.com.
The Value of Gardening
There is, I believe, great value in gardening. I am healthier for the exercise I get gardening and for the food from it. I believe that there is a spiritual component too. I can feel at one with the world when I garden, and a connection to the generations before and after me. I can feel my grandfather (some of whose tools I still use) with me in the garden at times. And in this day and age, it makes financial sense to have a garden.
I recently chatted with Alice Elliott of Richmond, Maine. Alice is by nature a record keeper, and for the past two years she has counted, weighed and measured the produce from her garden. Her garden is not large – just a space about 20 feet by 25 feet – but in 2010 she harvested 642 pounds of veggies, with a value of $2,102.48. Each week she gets the average market price for organic vegetables from MOFGA (the Maine Organic Farmers and Gardeners Association) and, using the state average price, figures out how much her garden has earned for her.
Alice also keeps track of her expenses – seeds, potting soil, row covers, fertilizer and mulch. She has, by her own admission, “A seed habit. I can’t pass by a pretty seed packet,” she told me. She likes to try new kinds of tomatoes every year – and grows a dozen different varieties. Last year she spent $317 dollars – including an amazing $176 in seeds. One could have a much bigger garden and spend just a fraction of her seeds costs – especially if you save seeds from open pollinated plants like tomatoes and beans.
So what does Alice do with all the veggies she grows? She and her husband eat from the garden every day of the year – which means that she preserves, stores or freezes vegetables now for use when the garden no longer is producing. She has a blog that shares her garden successes (and failures) and has recipes, photos of the garden, cost/benefit analysis of the garden and more. Go to www.henbogle.com to see her garden.
Here is an interesting recipe from Alice’s blog (see her “Yankee Pantry” dropdown for others), a good one for this time of year when our gardens are winding down for the summer, but sage and other herbs are still plentiful:
Sage Butter Sauce with Parmesan
Over medium low heat, melt butter then add sage leaves and cook until edges curl and butter is dark amber (5-6 minutes). Drain crisped sage on paper towels. Add stock and bring to a boil. Remove from heat and stir in parmesan. Serve over pasta, fresh sautéed vegetables, or roasted butternut squash; garnish with crumbled sage leaves.
One of the most important steps you can take when preparing food for winter use is to develop systems that will save you time. Alice and I agreed that doing large batches of food at once is a time saver. Buy a big blanching pot instead of a small one if you want to freeze large quantities of kale, for example. (Kale and many other veggies need to be blanched by immersing briefly in boiling water before freezing).
Alice makes lots of tomato sauce, and starts by roasting the tomatoes in a 400 degree oven for 30-50 minutes. That reduces the quantity of liquid and imparts a nice flavor, she said. She just cuts tomatoes into 2-4 chunks, and cooks them in Pyrex pans (oiled to keep the tomatoes from getting glued to the pans) until the skins turn dark and much of the moisture is gone. She then runs them through a tomato press to get rid of the seeds and skins. I found the one she uses at Gardeners Supply for about $70. I have an ancient Foley Food Mill, which does the same thing. Finally she freezes or cans the sauce – she uses a pressure cooker for canning to save time and reduce the chance of botulism. She suggests reading about botulism – a horrible illness that can be fatal – at the Web site for the National Center for Home Food Preservation at http://www.uga.edu/nchfp/how/can_home.html.
A tip I shared with Alice is that I use my grandmother’s wooden chopping board when cutting up tomatoes. It is long enough to span one of the two basins of my sink, allowing me to chop without making a mess. With a flick of the wrist I can push juice, seeds or waste into the basin of the sink, reducing mess. When making sauce, I core the tomatoes and squeeze out most of the seeds and juice before tossing them in the Cuisinart for pureeing. And I do that all right at the sink.
I’ll never be as organized as Alice. I will never count, weigh and calculate the value of the food I get from my garden, this I know. But there is great satisfaction in preparing dinner –as I did last night – using all my own ingredients. Now if I could just grow my own salt and pepper!
Henry’s new book is Organic Gardening (not just) in the Northeast: A Hands-On, Month-by-Month Guide. His Web site is www.Gardening-guy.com.
Quick Fixes for the Garden and Kitchen
There is always so much to do in the garden that sometimes I can’t keep up with it all. Right now there is weeding, pruning, dividing, garden clean-up and more. So I’m always looking for ways to save time and energy. Last fall I experimented with a “Quick Fix” for planting bulbs, and I’m pleased to report it worked just fine.
For the past 30 years or so I’ve been planting bulbs each fall so that I can enjoy big punches of color in the spring. Most years I plant 100 tulips as annuals – I find that they go down hill each year, with fewer and fewer blossoms. So I buy them in bulk and don’t worry if they return, and often plant new tulips in a big bed that already has tulips. By treating them as annuals I get a great show each year – and plenty of tulips to give away.
The backbone of my bulb collection, however, is my display of daffodils – from early to late. Daffodils are foolproof. Rodents won’t eat them – they are vaguely poisonous – and deer ignore them. They will grow in full sun, but will also flower reliably in a hardwood forest. Daffodils can get enough sunshine to recharge themselves in a forest since they get a start before leaves are on the trees.
When I was a boy we had hundreds of daffies that bloomed in our woods, year after year. Eventually we had to dig them up, divide and replant with the addition of bulb booster or slow acting fertilizer. We did that because the woods had so many trees with hungry roots that eventually they needed added minerals.
But digging holes for a couple of hundred bulbs can be a lot of work. So last year I tried a new method: I simply planted them above ground and covered them with soil and compost. Here is what I did: I mowed the lawn so that the grass was very short where I planned to plant. Then I put down a thick layer of newspapers and covered that with an inch and a half of compost. I arranged bulbs on that base, pointy end up. I placed the bulbs close together in order to fit in as many as possible – they were almost touching shoulders. Then I covered the bulbs with a 50-50 mix of topsoil and compost. The directions that come with most big bulbs like tulips and daffodils suggest a 6-inch layer of soil over the tips of the bulbs. I didn’t add that much soil – it was more like 4 inches. But then I put down mulch over the fresh soil, which acted much like soil.
I didn’t write about this technique last year as I didn’t know how well it would work. I shouldn’t have worried – it was a success. My bulbs planted above ground bloomed beautifully, and this past summer I planted some annual flowers in the same soil. Next spring? Who knows how they’ll do. Until I’ve had success for a few years I only will recommend it provisionally. Rodents, for example, may find this technique to their liking – to the detriment of the bulbs.
And the mounded beds may look, to the neighbors, like grave sites. The bed I made was large enough for a dog, but if I wanted more bulbs it might raise eyebrows. I can imagine the gossip at the store: What ever happened to Henry’s crazy Aunt Mathilda, anyway?
As I clean up the garden I look for time savers, too. Instead of cutting back my hostas, I wait until we’ve had a few hard frosts. Frost will turn the leaves into mush, so instead of cutting back the plants I can pull the leaves, or just rake them up. I’ve been known to use an electric hedge trimmer to cut back big beds of phlox or other tall perennials. Hedge trimmers are fast, but require one to bend over for a long time with a machine that is considerably heavier than pruners or hedge shears. If you use electric trimmers, be sure to use a GFCI outlet for your cord. Those are the outlets with with re-set buttons to prevent your from getting hurt if you cut off your cord – which I’ve been known to do.
In the kitchen have some quick fixes, too. I freeze sliced apples in pie pans now and when they’re frozen I remove the contents and store in big zipper bags. Later, come winter, I’ll make a crust, put in those frozen apples and add the spices. They will thaw and cook in the oven, taking just a little longer to cook.
To save time I have a couple of wonderful tools for slicing apples. The first looks like a 6-inch metal wagon wheel with wire spokes. Push down on the tool and it slices an apple into 8 or 10 wedges (though the skins stay on). I have another tool that both slices and peels apples. It bolts down onto the edge of the kitchen counter, you spear an apple onto the pointy end of the machine, turn a crank, and lickety-split the apple is peeled and sliced. I found one like mine at the Vermont Country store (www.vermontcountrystore.com or 802-776-5730) for about $30.
If you have some good time savers, be sure to write me. We all need to get our chores done so we can settle into winter and relax with a good book.
Write Henry Homeyer at P.O. Box 364, Cornish Flat, NH 03746 or henry.homeyer@comcast.net or visit his Web swite www.Gardening-guy.com.
I love a little bit of lawn. It sets off the flowers, walkways, stones, shrubs and trees of my garden. I think it looks good, even though it has weeds and dandelions mixed in and has a few thin spots. I should get busy now and do a little lawn care – and you might want to work on yours, too.
For starters, this is the time to plant seed. Fall is much better than spring, as the soil is warm and the seed will germinate more easily. Not only that, annual weeds and crabgrass are less interested in germinating now – they seem to know that winter is coming, along with the cold weather that will kill them. As an added bonus, the fall is generally rainy so you won’t have to water your new lawn very often.
To develop a thicker, richer lawn, you can overseed the thin parts by spreading some seeds over existing lawn. Just loosen the soil surface a little with a short-tined rake and scatter seed over places that need it. Then spread a thin layer of compost over the seed. If you have some empty spots, do this: plant seed, add compost, and then cover the area with a thin layer of straw or hay to shade the soil and prevent it from drying out.
Don’t buy pure Kentucky bluegrass, thinking you will get a premium lawn. Get a good mixture of grasses. The color and texture of bluegrass is preferred by some people, but it requires full sun and more fertilizer than other grasses. Furthermore, any monoculture – such as a pure stand of bluegrass – is more susceptible to attacks by insects and diseases. And don’t get the cheapest seed you can find. Good quality grass seed costs more, but does better.
For a lawn that requires the least fertilizing and mowing, choose a mix that is about 80% tall fescue and only 20% Kentucky bluegrass. Fescue is not as fine as bluegrass, but it is deep rooted and will survive drought and high foot traffic. Few pests will bother it. Ten percent Dutch white clover in the mix will add nitrogen naturally – so long as you add no herbicides, which will kill clover. This lawn will do okay even without adding fertilizers.
Don’t expect to be able to plant just one type of grass seed everywhere on your property. If you have shade, buy a shade mix that has about 70% fine fescue, 20% perennial ryegrass, with perhaps 10% Kentucky bluegrass of a shade-tolerant variety.
I know that the “Weed-n-Feed” companies sell bags of stuff to promote good growth while keeping out weeds. You can have a better lawn, in my opinion, by spreading a little compost over your lawn each year. Just fling fine compost with a shovel and then spread it out with a rake – a quarter to a half an inch is plenty. Weeds? Keep the blades on the lawnmower at around 3 inches to help shade out weeds when they start up. But cut the lawn a little shorter the last 2 mowings before winter – that will reduce the chance of mold or mildew developing during wet times.
Acid rain is a reality here in New England, so unless you add limestone, the soil in your lawn will eventually get to the point where weeds thrive better than grass. You can get your soil pH tested through your state’s Extension Service or buy a kit at the garden center. The test will tell you how many pounds of limestone per thousand square feet of lawn – so brush up on your math skills.
Limestone is very slow to move through the soil, and adding it in the fall gives it time to work. If you can scratch limestone into the lawn with a rake and get it below the surface a little, it will be closer to the crown, or growing point, for both roots and leaves. For new lawns, lightly rototill in limestone and compost in the top four inches of soil before seeding. Limestone provides calcium and keeps the soil from getting too acidic. If you buy “dolmitic” limestone it provides magnesium as well as calcium. “Calcitic” limestone does not have magnesium – a soil test will tell you whether you need magnesium or not.
I always use the mulcher attachment on my lawn mower in the fall to chop up the leaves. The attachment blocks the exit where the mower would normally spit out the clippings, so it chops everything more finely. I do rake up the bulk of the leaves, but the smallest bits stay on the lawn, adding organic matter and feeding the microorganisms in the soil – and making a healthier lawn.
Your lawnmower and other gas-powered equipment need a little tender loving care at the end of the season, too. It is a good idea to add stabilizer to the gas you use so that it won’t lose its zing over the winter, or foul the carburetor. The brand recommended to me by my local mechanic, Claude, is called Sta-Bil. Claude also recommends adding something to counteract the effects of ethanol in gas all season long – I recently bought a small bottle of “Quickshot” gasoline treatment said to “fight ethanol problems”.
Years ago I bought a couple of sheep to mow my lawn, and found that they were difficult to manage. I borrowed a portable electric fence to keep them out of the gardens, but they still managed to eat some flowers and inexplicably left parts of the lawn uneaten. Oh well, they did provide free fertilizer – and eventually lamb chops. Any way you look at it, a nice lawn takes some work.
Henry Homeyer can be reached at P.O. Box 364, Cornish Flat, NH 03746 or at henry.homeyer@comcast.net. His new book is called Organic Gardening (not just) in the Northeast, a Hands-On, Month-by-Month Guide.
Sometimes it’s tough to know just when to pick things in the vegetable garden. We don’t want to pick produce before it’s ready, but neither do we want to pick them after our fruits have passed their prime. And to confuse matters even more, each variety of vegetable has its own moment of perfection.
I remember the first time I grew ‘Green Zebra’ tomatoes and waited for them to get ripe. They didn’t appear to. Then a few fell off the vine – they were overripe. The only way I could tell they were ripe was by the feel. When they started to get soft, they were ripe. But mostly I pick tomatoes by their color.
Green beans are best before they show the lumps that are the individual seeds. Young beans are delicious, but of course, you don’t want to pick them when they are too young, as you’ll get less production that way. Some beans, especially pole beans like ‘Kwintus’ (from Cook’s Garden Seeds) are still very tasty when you can see individual beans in the pods. Part of knowing when to pick is letting a few things get older than they should, and then remembering what they look like.
By now your onions have been harvested, I suppose. They are easy to identify as ready to harvest: the tops fall over and turn brown. If yours are still in the ground, go get them! Although you can pull the onions and let them dry/cure in the garden, I think it is better to dry them on a porch or deck out of the rain.
Beets taste the same, or almost, whether picked early or late. I eat the thinnings early in the season, I eat some mid-season, I harvest some after frost. Frost does not harm them – if anything, it even makes them a little sweeter. Carrots are much the same. I don’t find that my big, late carrots get woody – but if the variety that you grow does get woody, pick them earlier.
Potatoes keep on getting bigger until the leaves brown up and flop over. I generally pull potatoes before then, but last year my granddaughter, Casey, grew potatoes and did not get to harvest them until the tops had pretty much disappeared. The potatoes were still perfect – though as a general rule I wouldn’t let potatoes stay in the ground that late, fearing that they might rot in a rainy spell. Frost does not harm them.
Sweet peppers will turn red, but if you let them stay on the vine to get red, you lose production. If you pick them green, the plants keep on flowering and producing more peppers. Hot peppers get hotter if you let them stay on the vine until they are fully ripe.
Lettuce can be harvested either as a cut-and-come-again crop, or harvested as heads. If lettuce plants start getting tall, they’re getting ready to bolt and flower. So I try to pick them before they do so – a bolting lettuce gets bitter.
When broccoli heads start to show yellow, they are about to go by. The flowers are yellow, and you want to pick the heads or side shoots before the flowers appear as flowers. But if they do flower, they’re still edible. And cut anything off that has flowered, so it will stimulate the plant to make more side shoots.
Kale can be harvested any time; I like to keep it growing well into the fall. Frost is not a problem, nor is snow. I keep picking kale until the temperatures go down into the teens. The oldest leaves, down at the bottom of the plant, can get a little tough with time. Be sure to remove the central rib before you cook or freeze the leaves.
Summer squash can be picked very small – or quite large. Patty pan squash, one of my favorites, is perfect at the 4-inch diameter size, though I know someone who picks it at the 2-inch size – almost bite sized. Zucchini grows so fast that I often find some – the escapees- that are 18 inches long. Those I quarter lengthwise and scoop out the seeds. Then I run them through the shredder (top) blade of my food processor, making a nice mixture that I freeze as is. I use it as a base for making winter soups.
Speaking of winter, winter squash are a bit tricky to pick at just the right moment. What I have decided is that it really doesn’t matter when you pick them. When my blue hubbards or Waltham butternuts stop growing, or when I see that the stem is drying up, I pick them. Winter squash need to be cured for some weeks before eating for the best flavor.
Apples? If you have to yank on an apple to get it off the tree, it’s not ready to pick. If lots of apples are on the ground, the tree is probably ready to pick. Pears are usually picked green, and ripened on a window sill or in trays in the barn. Plums, like apples, come off in my hand at a gentle touch when they are fully ripe, but I can also tell by the color.
Like much in life, practice – and paying attention – makes perfect when it comes to harvesting. That, and having enough time to go out and get in the garden when you need to. Happy harvesting!
Big yellow buses are lumbering around everywhere I look, stopping and starting and making a morning car trip seem to take forever. A few trees are showing color, mainly those living in swamps or under stressful conditions. The leaves on my tomato plants have largely turned brown, meaning no new blossoms for late tomatoes. Fall is here. But I still have lots of flowers blooming, and more on the way.
Each fall I treat myself to some chrysanthemums. I don’t buy them at the grocery store in an effort to get the cheapest price. I go to my local farm stand and buy the biggest, most beautiful pots of mums I can. I like to support local farmers and garden centers – and I believe I get better quality flowers from them. Mums that have traveled on a truck from New Jersey aren’t necessarily of bad quality, but those that were grown near home are less likely to have been stressed or damaged by too little (or too much) water.
Sometimes I just plunk those mums down, pots and all, on the front steps. Doing so means I will have to water them every hot sunny afternoon, particularly if the mums are growing in peat pots instead of plastic ones. I like peat pots – they don’t use any petroleum products – but they do dry out more quickly than plastic. This is true even if you plant the pots in the ground. The lip of a peat pot will let moisture evaporate and dry out the roots unless the ground is pretty wet. So tear off the lip of the peat pot, or remove it entirely if popping them in the ground.
I know that some chrysanthemums sold now are said to be hardy in Zone 4, but I don’t care if they are or not. I use them as annuals, filling in spaces and brightening up places where I need color. They are great on the table, too, and will look good for 6 weeks or more.
Elsewhere in the garden I do have some nice blossoms. Sneezeweed (Helenium autumnale) is a tall fall bloomer that likes full sun. The petals are “recurved”, meaning that their daisy-like petals don’t lay flat or lean inward as the petals on a black-eyed Susan do. Instead, they lean back a little from the central button. Sneezeweed comes in a pure yellow, an orange and brown, a reddish color, and probably others. All are good cut flowers – and do not cause sneezing. I’ve read that the flowers were dried and used as snuff long ago.
Turtlehead (Chelone lyonii) is one of my fall favorites. It likes moist soil, but will grow anywhere from full sun to full shade. It spreads slowly by root, creating dramatic clumps in just a few years – but it won’t take over the garden. The foliage is a deep green, stems are 4-feet tall, and the flowers are a pure pink – in the shape of a turtle’s head. There is also a smaller white variety, which is a native wildflower, but the blossoms are sort of a dirty white, and not very interesting.
Then there are many different fall asters. Several of mine stand over 4 feet tall and bloom in a variety of blues, purples, white and even pink. Butterflies seem to love them. They look nice in a vase, but I find they don’t last as well as turtlehead, mums, and some others. I let native asters – treated as weeds by some – fill in around the edge of wooded areas and in my shade gardens. They are much smaller than the cultivated ones, and their colors are not as bright. But keep an eye out for a clump along the roadside and bring some home if you like.
Then there are the fall crocus (Colchicum spp.) which are not crocus at all, but do resemble them. Mine are either white or lavender, and have either single or double blossoms. They pop up unexpectedly – they have no fall foliage. The foliage appears in the spring, then dies off. Each blossom is 2-4 inches from tip to bottom, and most appear on stems that don’t quite hold them up. So they flop unless you plant them in a place with a ground cover that will support them. Myrtle (Vinca major) seems to work well for that. My fall crocus have not yet appeared, but I know they will be along soon. They are bulb plants, and a bit pricey.
Gentians are in bloom now, both in the wild and in my garden. The deep true blue of a gentian is unbeatable. This year mine are entwined with a perennial called Knautia macedonia, which has been blooming since mid-summer. It is a wine-red, pincushion-like flower that has long, thin stems. The two plants together are gorgeous, and the stiff stems of the gentian hold up the blossoms of knautia on rainy days. The particular gentian I grow is Gentiana makinoi, a variety named ‘Marsha’. Look for both, buy them if you find them; both are quite scarce in the nursery trade.
We never know when frost will first nip at our veggies and flowers. Most years recently it has been mid-October for me. But I’ve seen frost here in August once, and plenty in September. Until frost I’ll have plenty of annual flowers blooming. A particularly nice one for me this year has been Browallia “Amethyst’. The small blue and white flowers have been flowering like crazy for ages, and show no signs of slowing down. But I know their life span is limited, and I dread the day when the grim reaper – Jack Frost – takes them away.
Little children – and grandparents – love to play games that make us giggle. One of the very first a child can play is called Peek-a-Boo: A child covers her eyes and you – and they – seemingly disappear. When they open their eyes (or pull back their hands) we are present. Good garden designers do the same with long views and sometimes even with special plants, or with a piece of garden sculpture. No, no tricks with hands over eyes are involved. It’s all about controlling what a visitor to the garden can see at any particular vantage point. Let me explain.
I was recently sitting on a porch overlooking Flagstaff Lake and Mt. Bigelow in Maine as the sun was setting. In front of me there were 3 or more clumps of spruce and white birch. Between each grouping of trees there was a 10-15 foot wide gap. The trees made it so that I could not see the entire view at once. I found myself moving my rocking chair so that I could see the section of the view that, at that moment, was most captivating. The view became all the more special when I had it in my sights. I was not bothered by the fact that I did not have an unencumbered view. I liked seeing just some of the view, helping me to focus on one particular aspect of it.
You can do the same thing in your garden. You can frame a view across the valley (if you are lucky enough to have one) by planting trees or pruning trees that are already there. You can hire a person with a chain saw to take out a 60-foot white pine if it’s blocking the view entirely. If you do so, you will get different glimpses of the view as you pass through the garden.
But back to the porch. Museums not only frame their art well, most choose a path for visitors so that the most spectacular views are in big rooms with high ceilings – after passing through a series of smaller, darker rooms. The Monet haystack paintings at the Museum of the Art Institute of Chicago are in a large, well-lit room that one enters through smaller, darker spaces. With time, you can do the same in your garden.
The creation of “rooms” in a garden is an old technique first used, I believe in England, France and Italy. Using walls or hedges, a large space can be broken down into smaller spaces, controlling what a viewer can see at any given moment. But creating rooms is not enough.
As you leave one space and come to another, there should be something special in each new space. Contrast keeps a visitor engaged. Each time I leave the brightness of my main garden to enter my primrose garden (a relatively dark space under some old apple trees) I am delighted. I slow down and look carefully at what is growing there. The change in light intensity causes me to pause, allowing my eyes to get used to the darkness. I see not only primroses (in season), but wildflowers, interesting foliage or colorful seeds, and I am delighted.
The natural contours of the land can help you to define garden rooms that are curved and asymmetrical. Letting wild trees grow up along an old, fallen-down stone wall can help to enclose a space. And a garden room does not need 4 walls. Even two walls will define a space nicely.
In small gardens, a Peek-a-Boo effect can be created by placing tall, wispy plants at the front of a garden bed, and smaller, intensely colored plants behind them. I have an artemesia that is 48 inches tall with big clusters of delicate white flowers. Its botanical name is Artemesia lactiflora. It is perfect for partially hiding something smaller behind it. This year I planted some short annuals around and behind it, an intensely red globe amaranth (Gomphrena globosa). You have to peek around the artemesia in order to get a better view of those red flowers.
I grow showy ladyslipper orchids (Cypripedium reginae) in a bright, sunny part of my garden. I keep them surrounded by other, taller plants. This is for two reasons: one, the taller things provide a bit of shade to my ladyslippers, and two, it creates that Peek-a-Boo effect that I like. I like the fact that in order to see and appreciate these lovely June-bloomers, a viewer must stop walking – which helps one focus on their unique character.
And as you work on your landscape, think about winter. You will probably spend little time in the garden. Can you create views and beauty that can be seen from your favorite chair or the window over the kitchen sink? Can you partially hide a stone, a bright blue ceramic birdbath or a statue or with your plantings? Can you provide just a glimpse of it from each window? Peek-a-Boo.
Creating special garden spaces is a long term effort. I’ve owned my house in Cornish Flat, NH for over 41 years – and I’m still working to improve my gardens.
One of the advantages of being an organic gardener is that you can eat any edible plant on your property – whether you planted it or not. Why not rethink your approach to weeds? Instead of cussin’ ‘em, why not eat ‘em?
Let’s start with the lawn. Dandelions (Taraxaum officinale) are the scourge of so many home owners that it’s a wonder they haven’t been driven into extinction. Thousands of tons of herbicides are spread on lawns each year– and millions of dollars spent – to kill dandelions, but still they persist. Maybe it’s time to try a new approach.
According to Just Weeds: History, Myths and Uses by Pamela Jones, dandelions have been used in Europe both as food and medicine for at least 2,300 years. It was brought to America by early settlers and those white parasols carrying seeds in early summer have dispersed plants in every state throughout the country.
A good spring salad can be made by slicing off the crowns of dandelions – that part of the plant between the fleshy tap root and the green leaves. Greens of dandelion can be steamed or boiled, and served with butter and lemon juice, or served in a cream sauce on toast, like creamed spinach. Once dandelions bloom, their leaves get much more bitter. If you want to eat them now, try them in a cream sauce that will balance out the bitterness, or boil them briefly, drain, and steam until tender.
A healthy drink can be made from the roots of dandelions as a substitute for coffee. Nancy Phillips of Groveton, NH and the author of The Village Herbalist, prepares it by washing dandelion roots, air drying them, and then chopping them into small pieces. She then roasts them in the oven at 250 degrees for 15 minutes. When she’s ready to make a pot of dandelion-root tea, she tosses a few dried chunks in a pan of water and simmers until she’s ready. She adds a little cinnamon and honey for a breakfast drink that is tasty and is said to have liver-cleansing properties.
Ground ivy (Glechoma hederacea), also known as Creeping Charlie, Jill-over-the Ground, , Cat’s Foot, Rat’s Mouth and dozens of other names (some of which are surely not fit to print), is a persistent pest. You may know it by its purplish-blue flowers and scalloped round, dark green leaves. It has square stalks and fragrant leaves – they smell minty when crushed or pulled. If you have it, surely you have identified it as the weed able climb over almost anything, even sending down roots through well mulched flower beds. It grows in lawns, and anywhere else it darn well pleases. Unless you change your attitude, you might go crazy if you think you can beat it. But hear this: the leaves make quite a tasty tea.
Before hops were introduced as a flavoring and preservative of beer, ground ivy was used by the Saxons to keep beer fresh and tasty. But for the busy gardener, tea is easier: just pick a few leaves, add hot water, and drink as a refreshing pick-me-up. Dry some of your weeded plants in the summer and save for winter.
Plantain (Plantago major) is another common lawn “pest” that has been used medicinally for centuries, and one that can be eaten. Plantain leaves are dark green, rounded, but longer than wide and ribbed longitudinally. The leaves all originate at a central point. Their flower stalks stand up in the middle and are loaded with small seeds. It can be eaten in spring salads, steamed and eaten like spinach, or added to soups. It is a mild laxative, so moderation is the key to its use.
Plantain, like many medicinal herbs, has been used for a variety of uses. Rub it on rashes, insect bites or wounds to alleviate itch or sting. Indians allegedly used it to counteract the poison of snake bites. It has been used in teas and tinctures to cure bronchitis, whooping cough, ulcers and diarrhea and more. Before you try it for those uses, you should check with a qualified herbalist, of course.
Purslane (Portulaca oleracea) is more of a garden weed than one found in lawns, but it is a low, fleshy creeper that can sneak into lawns, particularly along the edge of a flower bed or the vegetable garden. It has glossy green leaves, small yellow flowers, and reddish round stems. The stems all originate at the center, and radiate outward. It is quite brittle, which works to its advantage. If you try to pull it out, it breaks and re-sprouts. It can set down roots from broken stems, too.
Purslane can be eaten raw or cooked in a variety of ways. Like the others above, it can be eaten raw in salads, served like spinach, or added to soups or stews. It is most commonly eaten early in the spring before our vegetable gardens are producing all the greens we want.
Each weed or wild-harvested plant has its own flavor and nutritional benefits. Many are rich in vitamin C – and hence a little tart for the average tongue. Others extract and concentrate trace minerals from the soil. It is a good idea to consult a knowledgeable person in your neighborhood before you consume any weed, just to be sure you have harvested something edible. Dandelions, of course, we all know – and they are free for the taking. You won’t have to plant them either. Those lovely white parasols will float in and deliver seeds to your lawn and garden – whether you want them or not.