Dirt Stained Hands: Notes from a Northeast Gardener

Time Marches On

2011-04-23T12:09:00.003-04:00

I've had and enjoyed this blog for several years, but it's time to move on. Henceforward, my blog will appear on the first page of my website, www.colleenplimpton.com. Please go there to read my weekly column, as well as other gardening musings.

While you're there, at check out my lecture list, appearances and latest publications.

Wishing you Happy Days in the garden!

Hellebore Happenings

2011-03-14T17:10:00.004-04:00

Currently in bloom in my garden are several very welcome flowers. Witch hazel 'Jelena'; the first tentative snowdrops peeking out from a snowmound; three bright yellow winter aconites (where'd they come from?); and tah-dah! Hellebore orientalis, Lenten rose. First the purple, but hard on their heels will be the pure white, the speckled ones, and so forth.

Hellebore, given their preferred site of semi-shade in rich, compost-amended soil, will happily self-sow and create a carpet of early flowers. They require little care, but for best show there is one chore that needs to be done now.....removing last year's leaves.

Hellebore foliage is almost evergreen. It's big, serrated leaves persist until taken down by snow, ice or time. As you can see in the photo above, last year's leaves are now tattered, and need to be cut and composted. Once this is done, the unfurling new flowers will stand alone in full spring glory. But BE CAREFUL. Make sure you're clipping only the old material, and not snipping the emerging flower stalk.

Once you've completed this task, enjoy the hellebore flowers for weeks to come. They're one of the joys of perennial gardening.

What's New in Gardening?

2011-03-05T13:49:00.004-05:00

The 2011 Connecticut Flower Show is over, and what did I learn?

That more gardeners each year are interested in growing organically, the way our grandparents did.
That water gardening, be it pond, waterfall, stream, etc. is still HUGE.
That hellebore seems to be the plant of choice for 2011.
That there's real concern about invasive species, such as Japanese knotweed, bittersweet and garlic mustard.
That there are 5 million gardening-related products to sell to winter-weary gardeners.

The best product I saw, and acquired this year at the Show is the Grass Stitcher, www.grassstitcher.com, an easy-to-use, ergonomic, durable lawn aerator. I'm always on the lookout for products that make life in the garden easier, and I think this is a winner. I'll be reporting in as the season progresses.

We still have a couple of feet of frozen snow on the garden, so spring work hasn't yet begun.

But the white stuff is melting slowly in the moderating weather, so it doesn't appear we'll have floods, and for that we thank Mother Nature.

Flower Show!

2011-02-22T17:20:00.004-05:00

This winter will never end. Of that I'm sure. 'Course, once it does, I'll be up to my eyeballs in work, and will rue the day I wished spring would hurry up. But this weekend is my first breath of gardening season, 2011. It's the Flower Show at the CT Convention Center, and I cannot wait. Just to walk onto the floor, transformed into garden after lush garden... to smell the mingled scents of floral perfume, dirt, mulch, and fertilizer...ahh, that's heaven. Add to that the shopping to be done, for seeds, plants, ephemera, and anything newfangled. And all the hort heads to talk to, whether in booths such as the Tri-State Hosta Society or Connecticut Gardener, or Master Gardeners or nurseries, or? 250 booths crammed full of all things horticultural. Yippee!

I plan to spend all day there on Friday, the 25th, & will lecture at 2 p.m on The Bins & Outs of Composting. Sunday, ditto, will be there all day. My lecture that day is at noon, on Hello My Garden! My newest book, Mentors in the Garden of Life, will be for sale in the Federated Garden Clubs section, and I'll also have copies at my lectures.

This winter has to quit sometime. I have to be able to get at the compost soon, and clear fallen sticks from the yard, and clip the ornamental grass, and so on. But for now, I'd just settle for a day with temperatures above 40 degrees.

Each year, the Flower Shows usher in spring. I can't recall a year when they've been more welcome!

(photos courtesy of Kristie Gonsalves, Northeast Expos)

Where'd the Years Go?

2011-02-01T13:58:00.004-05:00

It's a blustery day; the world outside my frosted front door is still with anticipation of the snow, sleet and freezing rain the weather people have promised us. Nary a car is sliding down the street, but birds are busy at the feeder and squirrels are leaping snowbanks in a single bound to hog the cracked corn and sunflower seed.

My 62nd birthday is today. Mother used to say I was born amidst a snowstorm in '49. But I haven't had such weather on this day in years. In fact, I recall birthdays when I've been out on the lawn picking up sticks in preparation for opening the gardening season. Not so in 2011!

Such a winter day is perfect, however, for reviewing my old garden diaries. And that brings to mind the origins of my gardening passion. As the years fade into one another it's more difficult to remember just how I started, just which plants and plant categories were important to me decades ago. I'm glad I wrote a book regarding some of my gardening memories....Mentors in the Garden of Life helps preserve them for me and for others.

An introspective, retrospective day. We need these upon occasion in our busy lives, and I'm grateful to Mother Nature for forcing one upon me on my birthday.

Snow, Snow and More Snow!

2011-01-16T17:18:00.004-05:00

Far be it from me to complain about a real New England winter....it's been much too long since we've had such a beast, but this one qualifies. December was bitter cold; the temperature seldom rose above freezing, and the past 3 weeks brought some 40" of snow. The path down the front walk is more like a tunnel, and forget about the the mailbox....it's completely disappeared.

I worry about the wild birds in such weather. So I've been scattering a rich mixture of black oil sunflower seeds, raisens, safflower seeds, etc on the front steps, since I can't actually reach the feeder itself. I filled the green hopper just before the latest snow salvo, and it'll last a few more days, at which point I'll have to strap on some snowshoes and attend to replenishing it.

The snow is so close to the hopper, in fact, that the squirrels have figured out how to grab their disproportionate share. Oh well, they're hungry too. We're regularly visited by juncos, cardinals, wrens, titmouse, chickadees, several types of woodpeckers, and sparrows, as well as the darn squirrels.

Today I trudged through waist-deep fluff out to the feeder and birdbath on the back deck to refill the tube and assure that the heater was keeping water available to my avian friends.

My hope is that we all are paying attention to the birds in this harsh winter. If we want birds in the garden come spring, they need our help now.

The Total Truth about My Garden

2011-01-02T07:17:00.005-05:00

(this never made it to the online Danbury News-Times last week, so I'll post it here)

22 Reasons My Garden Isn't Perfect

It's a New Year, and time to 'fess up. Cleanse the soul, and all that. So here goes...Despite what you may think and I may hope, mine is not a perfect garden. Some of the reasons are:

I can't grow clematis to save my soul. I've tried repeatedly but no dice; they apparently don't like me or my soil. What the heck, pruning them properly always was confusing.

I've never figured out exactly how to operate the fancy Black & Decker edger I bought six years ago. It now makes a very attractive wall ornament in my garden shed.

I feel sorry for the tree seedlings that sprout in the flower beds, so I let them grow.

From midsummer until first frost my backyard garden is overrun with pilea. Sure, it's easy to yank out, but do I? Nope, there's always something more pressing, such as sitting in the gazebo discussing the meaning of existence with the cat.

The black-handled clippers are lost. I'm pretty sure I know in which garden they were last seen, but upon my life I can't find them. They'll probably turn up next spring, rusted shut.

I own way too much coneflower, corydalis, black-eyed Susan, liriope and garlic chives. Would you like some?

The blankety-blank lily beetle has me thinking forbidden thoughts about chemical controls.

Though at my age I don't even buy green bananas, still I'm thinking about planting a black walnut tree.

I'm all fumblethumbs with the fountain, and hopeless with the hand saw.

I spend too much money on garden books, too much time on TV gardening shows, and too much effort extracting every last dandelion from my front yard.

The clethra is outgunning the daylily with which it's supposed to nicely cohabitate.

There's moss on the pavers, mulch on the driveway, and birdseed on the sidewalk. None of which makes my husband happy.

My self-constructed rock walls tend to tumble, and my arbors need painting. The wooden fence is minus a rail, and the rain barrel leaks.

My onions refuse to bulb, and my cauliflower won't head.

I possess more gardening doodads than a kitchen junk drawer.

There's crabgrass spotting the lawn, and ragged edges on my borders. (see #2, above)

The hammock is rotting, and someone has severed the soaker hose in the Mailbox Garden. (guess who?)

Piles of tattered garden catalogues threaten to topple onto the family room floor. (why DO I keep them?)

My favorite shovel is long in the tooth; my Felco pruners are notched where they shouldn't be, and my hoe has lost its handle.

Markers from long-deceased plants litter the living room.

My garden hat will never again be pristine, my garden shoes are shabby, my gloves are shot full of holes (always the left hand. Why is that, when I'm right-handed?)

The last time I cleaned the garden shed I found Amelia Earhart.

C'est la vie. I'm a gardener.

Tipsy Pots for the Winter

2010-12-10T12:52:00.003-05:00

Do you have a collection of potted perennials awaiting spring? I do, each winter; either stuff I've unearthed during fall clean-up, or specimens I just never got around to planting, or gifts. My eyes are generally bigger than my stomach, as Mother used to say. I really meant to put that new salvia over by the feverfew, and I had the best intentions of plantng the dwarf Joe Pye near the gazebo. Alas, some things didn't get done.

But don't forget about those potted wonders. As Paul Young taught me, you need to tip the pots on their sides right about now, so that moisture doesn't collect in the bottom of the containers and rot the roots.

So trot right outside and do it. You won't be sorry.

Winter water for the birds

2010-11-29T16:44:00.004-05:00

Birds need water to drink and bathe in year 'round, just as do we humans. The first few nights below freezing remind me that it's time to dig out the bird bath de-icer and position it in the round plastic basin which is attached to the railing on our back deck. An extension cord plugs into an outlet on our screened porch, and the element turns on when temps dip below 32 degrees.

This simple apparatus cost me some $15, I suppose, and it's functioned well for years. In the off-season it lives in a kitchen drawer, near the cupboard where the thistle seed is kept.

I place a small rock on top to prevent dislodging in high winds, or by over-enthusiastic critters. Of course, the basin gets cleaned every few days to keep things safe for our avian friends.

Even after all these years, it's still a thrill to see finches, wrens, chickadees and other birds taking a drink of clear water in the depths of winter when most other sources are frozen.

Mother Nature appreciates every little bit of help.

Late Color in the Garden

2010-11-18T08:59:00.004-05:00

By now, most garden color is usurped by dry leaves strewn on the lawn and the blue wash of sky above. But some vibrant hues remain. Salvia 'Victoria' is still standing tall and blue. Buddleia 'Lo and Behold' retains flower panicles for late butterflies and bees. Hamamelis 'Jelena' sports bright yellow leaves, as does the 'Goldmound' spirea just outside my front door. The dangling flower buds on pieris 'Mountain Fire' are bright red, and honeysuckle 'Alabama Crimson' boasts not only sprightly yellow leaves, but clusters of orange flowers.

But the best of the lot is the oakleaf hydrangea. The last shrub to color up in my semi-shady backyard garden, it boasts large interestingly-shaped leaves of mingled purple, green, red and burgundy. Dried summer flowers in ivory hues add to the intrigue of this native, underused shrub.

It's possible, even deep into November here in southern New England, to have color in the garden. Makes one glad to be a tiller of the soil.

The Monster Swallowing our Trees

2010-11-04T06:11:00.004-04:00

Early November is the best time of the year to recognize Asian bittersweet, that invasive interloper who's taking over our forest edges. Most of the leaves are off the hardwood trees, but the round leaves of bittersweet are bright yellow and will persist for another week or so.

Go outside and look up. Do you see a yellow-leafed vine scrambling up your trees & over your shrubs? It's most likely bittersweet and it needs to be cut down before it envelopes the trees like the picture above. So get out the clippers, loppers and hand saw. Some vines will be as big around as a man's arm, and will eventually kill a tree by either crowding out the sunlight, squeezing the trunk, or making it so top-heavy that it will break the trunk or topple in a strong wind.

Try to uproot the beast, (the orange roots are diagnostic) but if you cut the vine, it will sprout next year, so plan on going back and recutting next spring. Keep after it!

If each of us kept our patch of Mother Earth clear of this monster we'd go a long ways towards eliminating a major threat to our woodlands. Otherwise, our forests here in the Northeast will eventually look like the sad picture above.

There's still color in the garden!

2010-10-25T16:38:00.004-04:00

My great gardening friend Paul Young likes to gently tease me about the importantce I attach to color in the garden. It's true, I live for color, and even this late in the season there's plenty of it.

This photo was taken this morning. Notice the orange of the amelanchier, the russet of the Japanese maple and the still-vibrant green of the forest grass. Is your eye caught by the last blooms on the roses and the purple/red of the hydrangea? Me too. Are you drawn to the depths of the surrounding forest? I am.

Adding to the garden color are fallen leaves on the chestnut-brown mulch. Nature's bounty, scattered around the beds and borders, but soon to be gathered and added to the compost pile, which grows to some 10' tall this time of year. But first it's fun to scuff through them on the grass paths through the garden.

A northeast garden offers color even this deep into autumn. The beauty of the land is all around us.

An Interesting Begonia

2010-10-09T19:38:00.004-04:00

This strange looking begonia has lived on my patio all season long. I purchased it at Shakespeare's Garden in Brookfield (my favorite nursery) in June. It's done quite nicely on my semi-shaded patio, and put out numerous sprays of tiny white flowers. Truth be told, I didn't know it was a begonia when I first spied it. No matter.

It's done so well all summer that it's going to be one of the few plants I'll save over the winter. Come the cold weather, most patio plants get pulled up and relegated to the compost pile. This guy looks so handsome in his terra-cotta pot that I just gotta give him a winter home.

Now, if I can just find out his name! Anyone out there have a clue?

News-Times column of 9/17/10

2010-09-19T15:25:00.006-04:00

It's a charming antique home in charming downtown Bethel. But what makes passersby turn their heads isn't the ornate woodwork, large windows or the three-story height on the house in which Steve Muffatti rents a first-floor apartment from his parents.

No, it's the scramble of canataloupe vines edging out into the driveway, the ripe tomatoes that come nose-to-nose with visitors at the front door, and the purple eggplants hoisting their fruit on what used to be lawn.

Clearly a gardener lives there. A gardener who knows enough to allow the lettuce to bolt so he can collect seeds for next year. A gardener who's seized every square inch of planting space. A gardener, it turns out, who's sophisticated enough to realize that all growth starts with the earth and who therefore added copious amounts of compost prior to planting.

And yet, this is Steve Muffatti's first season tilling the soil. A senior at Western Connecticut State University who's majoring in history, he's only recently been bitten by the gardening bug. The difficult weather that Mother Nature threw at us this year hasn't deterred him. Next spring, he plans on digging up what's left of the front lawn and devoting it to still more vegetables. Corn, watermelon and green beans. Basil, and dill for pickles. Squash and maybe potatoes, though he's not enamoured of growing "anything underground". Yet.

What drew him to the world of gardening? As a barista at Bethel's funky coffee shop, Molten Java, Steve was intrigued by a frequent customer's comments on the art and science of gardening. After many a horticultural conversation, including several concerning Eleanor Roosevelt and World War II, Byron Graham, of Warrups Farm in Redding, challenged Steve with a gift of seeds. These were planted with some of Steve's mother's backyard compost into the soil around the foundation of the house, and a gardener took root.

It wasn't all done exactly according to Hoyle. Steve used no fertilizer, and he didn't read up on how to grow vegetables. All he did to prepare the soil was to pull out some tree seedlings along the foundation, remove sod, and incorporate the compost. And with his busy schedule of work and school, his only gardening time is early morning.

Not everything was a victory, of course. There's a sad story about the first gardening crisis, in which a blight visited the cucumbers; and a tale about a critter unknown who made off with some prime tomatoes.

But success is enticing, and the vegetables keep coming. As they do, girlfriend Julia Klaucke, an art and psychology major at WestConn, cooks Steve's garden offerings. Recent dishes include fresh tomato soup, salads and sauces, stuffed cabbage, eggplant Parmesan, and sauteed kale.

Steve Muffatti plans on being an educator, eventually teaching at the college level. He's 23 now, and soon life will take over. He'll be busy with family, career, and home. But I have a hunch that he'll always find time to garden.

Rain!

2010-09-17T07:04:00.002-04:00

Finally, some moisture from the sky! That makes the gardener's life So Much Easier. We got .7" by my back deck rain gauge. Today I'll check on the thirstiest of the plants (hydrangea, new perennials, spring-transplanted trees), to see if they need more.

Soon garden cleanup will be in full swing. I always hate to start it, feeling there's more beauty to come. But I look forward to my winter vacation from the garden!

2010-09-16T14:44:00.002-04:00

Survivors

2010-08-09T11:36:00.003-04:00

It's been a tough season in many parts hereabouts. Too much heat and not enough rain. But this is the type of year when gardeners find out what are keepers and what are tossers. Among the former category for me are daylilies.

I developed my super-special deer repellent (see my book, Mentors in the Garden of Life, chapter 15) in response to white-tail deer's depredations on my daylilies. If applied regularly, the concoction works perfectly, and I now grow maybe 40 different cultivars of DL's, which give me thousands of blooms from late June until (usually) late August. This year things are ahead of themselves due to weather, so the beauty pictured here is among the last.

My backyard garden is often viewed from above, from my screen porch (see chapter 2, Mentors in the Garden of Life), where the flowers and foliage of the large hosta, astilbe, hydrangea, roses, etc. look quite good, if I do say so myself. I grow all colors and sizes of DL's. Pink, purple, apricot, white, red, lavender, and so forth. Don't ask me most of their names....I've not always been diligent about labeling. Lately I've been better, yes, but there's a bunch of orphans.

Once one is down on the grass paths that wind their way thru the backyard gardens, the weeds & problems are obvious, but I like to take visitors first to the porch and deck, so they can take in the full effect of the floral carpet spread below. The signature is the gazebo, framed in different seasons by different flowers.

Back to daylilies, which have scoffed at the drought of '10. With their tuberous roots, they store water; it takes a real humdinger of a scorching summer to cause them pause. Though bad this year, I've seen worse.

So my advice is to control the deer, and then indulge in daylilies.

Pinky Winky

2010-07-28T15:10:00.005-04:00

Such a cute name, but I'm not sure where the title comes from. Is there a cartoon character who shares this moniker? A stuffed animal? A kid's book?

Whatever. The hydrangea paniculata 'Pinky Winky' is a grand charmer. At maturity he'll be some 6' - 7' tall and wide, but he's already spectacular. Those strong red stems! Those HUGE (up to 16") flower panicles that start off white, and turn pink at the base for a two-toned treat! The graceful habit, imposing presence, long bloom, and drought resistance all combine to make this a favorite.

A Proven Winners shrub, it's been in my front walk garden for three years now, (starting off as a mere twig) and I delight in seeing it as I walk up to the front door from the driveway or step out in the morning to get the daily paper.

Only once has Pinky been nipped by deer, but I'm forewarned, so now I apply deer repellent once per week, at the same time the stuff goes on the hosta, phlox, etc.

'Pinky Winky' has earned a place in my heart. True, he'll soon be too big for my Front Walk Garden and so will have to have a place in another of my gardens, but I'll still cherish him even when he's further away.

Book Publicity is Hard Work!

2010-07-23T12:22:00.004-04:00

For most of my adult life I'd wanted to write a book. I write for magazines, do a weekly garden column, keep a garden journal, and have a couple of novels "in the drawer" (never sold). But tah-dah! This past May my garden memoir, Mentors in the Garden of Life was published. Such a thrill! Such a lot of hard work writing it and getting it birthed!

Little did I know the real work was just starting.

Nowadays, most publishing houses do very little to publicize books, especially books by new authors, or books with a perceived "small" audience. So publicity is up to the author. And it's an arduous task. It takes time to make contacts at bookstores and libraries & request a book signing or talk. (and we are often rebuffed). It takes knowledge and time to reach out to venues which may or may not want to interview us or review our book. It takes courage and money to send out review copies to people who may or may not review us, or review us kindly.

Add to all this the the fact that it seems fewer and fewer folk read books anymore, and it's an uphill job to publicize one's own book. I mean, how often and for how long does one blow one's own horn? Which PR overtures are likely to pay off? Who knows!?

But the only way word about my book, or any book is going to get out there is to keep on trying. So each day I try to make at least one outreach, one contact. I know Mentors in the Garden of Life is an interesting, well-written book, one with stories, messages, garden info, and life lessons. I'd like it to have a decent chance Out There. So I'll keep slugging away.

You can help. Consider purchasing my garden memoir either from me (http://www.colleenplimpton.com/) or http://www.amazon.com/ or come to my book talk/signings. I'll be at Southbury Borders on Saturday, July 24th, and Danbury Borders on Saturday, August 21.

Thanks!

Carefree Caladiums

2010-07-14T06:01:00.005-04:00

It's been terribly hot and dry this summer. Waaay above normal for temps and way below normal for rainfall. Some plants have suffered, and so have I.

A bright spot, literally and figuratively, are my caladiums. I generally purchase some potted specimens for my Shade Garden, which is so deeply shaded that even impatiens won't blossom in its depths. But caladiums shine. And glory be, once established, they haven't needed supplemental watering!

They'll last until frost, brightening up their alloted square feet in the universe. They're insect and disease-free, and earn their keep every day.

Are there any problems with caladiums? Of course! No plant is without problems. In the Plimpton garden there are several main issues with these handsome fellows:

One: They're expensive. Try at least 5$ a pot. Ranging on up to $12 or $15 (I won't buy them at that usurious price)

Two: They're very cold-sensitive, so can't be put out here until June 1.

Three: For me they're not easy to get started. They lag behind other stuff and I run out of room.

Four: Try as I might, I haven't been successful at wintering them over. I've tried leaving them in their pots. (they rotted in the garage). I've tried placing them tenderly in ever so slightly damp peat moss for the winter. (they disappeared).

I need to check with my propogating wizzard pal, Suzanne Galante to see how she would do it.

In the meantime, I'll enjoy my caladium beauties for the next couple of months and then rethink how to save them over the winter.

Queen of the Prairie is deposed

2010-07-05T16:48:00.004-04:00

She's gone, my filipendula, aka Queen of the Prairie. Statuesque, pink, blowsy, easy to grow and gorgeous in the vase, nonetheless I've evicted her. Why?

She's too tall, and wants too much sun. While my my Backyard Garden is quite large, (100' x 100'), it gets progressively shadier as the deciduous trees in the woods ringing it grow inexorably taller. The Queen was leaning over the buddleia, obscuring the hosta, and threatening the pink 'Knockout' rose. I decided a couple of years ago she had to go. Actually getting rid of her, however, was another story.

I began pulling her up in clumps each spring, and potting her up for the Garden Club plant sale. But she was a persistent monarch, and kept sprouting more clumps. Which I kept pulling and potting.

For several years.

This year, no Miss Nice Gal. I yanked her up wherever I found her and tossed her unceremoniously into the woods. I think I finally have the situation under control.

New large hostas, 'Dick Ward', 'Sum of All' and 'Abiqua Drinking Gourd' have taken her place.

I hope.

My Garden Nemesis

2010-06-22T17:12:00.004-04:00

Another name for this pretty, delicate-appearing green monster is Garden Enemy #1. It's pilea, an enthusiastic weed which grows to some 12-18" if permitted, and which likes moist, shady conditions. Precisely what my back yard gardens offer. I'm not sure when it first arrived, probably 3 or 4 years ago, but I recall the Cooperative Extension office identified it for me.

Little did I know it would take over. Deceptively easy to pull out, with weak, water-filled stems, I nonetheless must have let a few of its antecedents go to seed. So last year it greeted the spring with vigor. And this year it's hiding under the leaves of the big hosta, it's disguised among the astilbe, and it's insinuated itself in the shady rock wall by the hydrangea. It's everywhere! I keep pulling and pulling, but alas...it's found a home.

Here's hoping it goes away as fast as it arrived. But I'm beginning to despair.

Cow Slobber

2010-06-10T19:36:00.005-04:00

No, really. "Cow slobber" is one of the old-timey names for this lovely perennial, properly called Tradescantia. It's Latin name comes from John Tradescant, an illustrious plantsman of 17-century England. But the common name for this flower is spiderwort. Apparently it acquired the unattractive cow-related moniker because when the lax stems are severed, an oozing, stringy sap issues forth, resembling....you guessed it, cow slobber!

This charming plant is in bloom now, but just in the morning; its blossoms close by the heat of the afternoon. However, each stem bears many buds, so it's in bloom for a couple of weeks. And then, if the entire plant is cut back, it will rise and bloom again later in the summer.

Spiderwort appreciates a spot in moist, shady soil, where it brightens things up between the hosta and the astilbe. Easy to grow, easy to maintain, the only problem I've ever had with it is the year the voles wreaked destruction on the shady slope under a huge sugar maple. They took out much of the carex and major clumps of astilbe, too.

Most spiderworts seen in the nurseries are blue, but look for 'Sweet Kate', which has chartreuse foliage and pink flowers.

Another pretty plant with an interesting backstory.

Hankering for Hostas

2010-05-31T15:36:00.004-04:00

This handsome fellow is the 2007 Hosta of the Year, 'Paradigm'. He's fast-growing, slug-resistant, sun-tolerant, seersuckered, and huge. A good doer. He lives by the gate to my shade garden and has grown so big in 3 years that next spring I'll have to move him back a couple of feet so I can access the garden. He's also crowding out hosta 'Christmas Pageant', another beautiful plant, but totally overshadowed by Mr. Paradigm at this point.

I'm fortunate to know the names of these cultivars....I'm not terribly good at labeling, though every year or so I get an attack of conscience and then purchase yet more and fancier labels which I don't use. C'est la vie. Now my ever-growing hosta collection is setting seed and producing some babies, confusing things immensely. I do have to label those, so one doesn't get mixed up with the cultivars. Most of the young 'uns are nondescript, but I could use them to fill in spaces....

I see no end to my hosta wishlist. Lately I lust for 'Mighty Mouse' and 'Liberty'. 'Marmelade' sounds delicious, and I must have 'Dream Queen'. I favor the large, variegated cultivars, but the itty-bitty ones like 'Pandora's Box' and 'Blue Mouse Ears' are charming, too. Every year Paul Young and I travel to Granby, CT, to John O'Brien's hosta nursery, (www.obrienhosta.com ) and every year I bring home yet more lovely cultivars. I seem to have decent growing conditions for hosta in most of my gardens. Lots of compost helps, and regular applications of my homemade deer repellent.

Change is a-coming, however. In my main front garden, the European white birches (which I didn't plant) are in decline. When they go, the whole front yard will be sunny, necessitating a re-do of much gardening space.

But isn't that what gardening is all about; the permanance of change?

A Spring View of the Shade Garden

2010-05-17T05:01:00.004-04:00

Spring is the happiest time in the deeply-shaded, narrow garden between the south side of the house and the woods. The soil, amended well with compost and peat when the area was dug and the fieldstone path laid 10 years ago, is now root-infiltrated and dry. Some things do well, such as the tiarella and phlox stolonifera above, intermixed with hosta and backed by old-fashioned bleeding heart. The plantings almost obscure the large rock outcropping which was the impetus for making this area a garden. The ledge was just too difficult to mow around, and the sparse grass became thinner with each passing year.

I try different things in there on a regular basis, and some plants, such as Virginia bluebells, have thrived, but the Shade Garden remains one of my most difficult challenges. In April I removed the leggy rhodies along the east side, and replaced them with a deutzia 'Chardonnay Pearls' and a itea 'Little Henry'. We'll see.....

One thing that helps is the small red tulips I plant each autumn. Though they won't perennialize b/c there's not enough sun, the effort of yearly planting is worth the bright sparks of color in spring. And I love tiarella. It takes deep shade, the deer don't bother it, and it self-sows. I have several cultivars and numerous seedlings.

Heucherella is a cross between heuchera and tiarella. I find it tolerates significant shade, blooms well, and is a healthy, deer proof plant. I recently purchased 'Sweet Tea', a lovely caramel hue, and put it in with some large hostas at the entrance to the Shade Garden. I like the color contrast, and we'll see how that area does.

After all, a gardener is always learning.

Crabapples

2010-05-05T17:05:00.005-04:00

The allee of crabapples along my front walk bloomed early, like everything else this crazy spring. There are three of the small flowering trees. The first, an unknown cultivar, was a Mother's Day present some 15 years ago and I don't know its name, but like the rest, it's disease-resistant, floriferous, and fruit-bearing.

The second, 'Prairie Fire' blooms a pretty pink, and bears round red fruits that the birds quickly devour, often before they fully ripen.

The picture is a closeup of the third crabapple, 'Scarlet Brandywine'. My favorite, its bloom is double and fragrant, and the fruit is large and orange.

Crabapples, especially the newer disease-resistant ones, give three seasons of interest. The often-reddish leaves, the magnificent flowers, and the fruit, which nourishes both the birds and our souls.

Gardening in concert with Mother Nature. It's the best.

In Bloom This Week

2010-04-29T06:32:00.005-04:00

Actually, lots of things are a-bloom this last week in April. More than should be, in fact. We're waaay early this year. Lilacs, forget-me-nots, lunaria, Korean spice viburnum, tulips, daffodils, crabapples. And so much more. I love my garden at all times in season, but sometimes I think the couple of weeks when the tulips bloom is my absolute favorite.

However. Here's a shot of a quiet corner of my fishpond border. Lamium, of which I'm not overly fond, (because it's aggressive) is admittedly pretty in flower. In this picture it's draped across the rocks around the pond, and looks quite lovely. Perched above it is one of the best small plants for shade, even dry shade. European ginger, grown for its shiny, healthy, round leaves, not the almost-imperceptible flowers which are borne under the leaves. This ginger, planted when the pond was put in 10 years ago, has self-sown and spread. It's not a thug, though. And it's easily transplantable.

Both of these guys will do well in shade, and don't they look pretty against the rocks? I like how they soften the stone, and add color to a monochromatic scene. When you design your gardens, think in contrasts, like this.

Thrilling Trillium

2010-04-21T05:22:00.004-04:00

I found this little beauty in my woods last week, tucked in between a swamp maple and a tulip poplar. A welcome sight she is in my deer-and-invasive-species-ravaged woodland.

My newspaper column this week is about garlic mustard, but that's not the only marauder I've got. The bittersweet, however, is pretty much eradicated on my 2 1/2 acres, and I tolerate the few stands of barberry. In a minuscule attempt to at forest restoration, each year I transplant more tree seedlings to the edge, and vigorously apply my homemade deer repellent further into the woods.

But there are no baby or adolescent trees left in the interior. The deer have devoured them all, leaving only the mature forest, ever thinner and more open to plant invaders. When those trees die a natural death there will be nothing left of the once-grand forest. Will people care then? Will there be a real, coordinated effort to control the deer population at that point?

I hope so.

In the meantime, my small efforts to bring back a tiny portion of the forest pays off when I see skunk cabbage, jack-in-the-pulpit, and ephemeral wildflowers like this red trillium.

Somebody's got to care.

Petite Daffodils

2010-04-11T07:35:00.004-04:00

Does the sight of vibrant yellow daffodils gladden your heart like it does mine? I love them all, the old-fashioned 'King Alfred', the fancy doubles, the pure white of 'Mt Hood' and the late-blooming 'Actea', and of course, the jaunty little 'Tete-a-Tete', which bloom early and often in clusters. Easy to grow, easy to pick, and critter-proof, all daffodils really want is a place in the sun and a handful of Bulb-tone now and then.

Though I admire them all, I only grow daffodils that naturalize reasonably well. The ruffled pink ones are delectable, for instance, but it seems the farther away from the basics the cultivar is bred, the less hardy it is. I want my daffs to last for many years in the garden.

Some pointers:

Choose firm bulbs, and plant in decent, well-drained soil, in full sun.
When picking, pull 'n twist the flower stalk from the base.
After bloom, remove the withered blossom, but leave the leaves. Do not fold, spindle or mutilate. Those declining leaves are making food for next years' show. If they want to hang around until July, let 'em.
Fertilize 3x a year. Once when leaves first emerge in spring, once when flowering is finished, and once in autumn.

But do enjoy your daffodils, and plant more every autumn, so that you, too can appreciate their exuberance in the April garden.

The Grande Dame of Early Spring

2010-04-01T06:40:00.003-04:00

She's here! Helleborus orientalis, Lenten rose, has risen her lovely, statuesque head to greet we winter-weary, waterlogged folk with a true taste of spring. There she is, amid the tattered remnants of last year's leaves. She's shown up in my garden in robes of purple, ivory and speckled green.

Time to do right by her. Here's how:

First, release her from those ugly leftover leaves. Cut them down at the base and toss into the compost, being exquisitely careful not to cut her flower stems, as they are close together. Then, if she has any progeny under her skirts, pot them up for gifts, garden club plant sales, or transplant them right away.

Don' t be alarmed if the temperature drops into the 20's one of these nights; the Lenten rose will droop in the cold, but revives in the light of day. She's a northern gal and can take the cold.

I do hope you've given Lady Lenten Rose a place of honor in your garden, where her blooms can be admired now, when there's so little in bloom, and on into the six weeks or so that she flowers. At the front of the flower bed, or next to the front door, in a moist, shady spot is ideal.

And did you know that she makes a gracious bouquet?

All in all, the Lenten rose, while a tad expensive at the nursery, is a most regal presence in the border. Early, deer-proof, colorful, long-lasting....what more could we wish for?

The Vagaries of March

2010-03-23T16:43:00.005-04:00

The zephyr breezes of spring that caressed our gardens last week are gone; in their place we have rain and cold. Those cannas I resurrected out of their winter peat storage and potted up? Back into the garage. The multiple flats of pansies? Awaiting warmer temps. I did plant some of them, and will watch the nighttime forecasts. Pansies are cold-tolerant down to about 22 degrees. They may lay over, or look wilted after a night of such cold, but they'll spring back. I'm ready with the Reemay or a flowerpot, though, if the weatherman predicts colder than that.

In the meantime, I'm raking the lawn, pruning the roses, piling the compost high. I'm sharpening the tools, filling patio pots halfway with done compost, and scraping the driveway debris. It's all satisfying work, even if the sun doesn't shine. Soon enough the warmth of April will bring the daffodils and I'll need a truckload of Sweet Peet in my driveway.

In the meantime, the birds think it's spring. They've been checking out the newly-cleaned birdhouses and sounding a serenade. Once it's a little warmer, I'll be singing, too.

Late-Winter Chores

2010-03-16T04:50:00.004-04:00

I do think it's coming. Spring, that is. The equinox is approaching, the ground is thawing, and the garden work beckons. In between the raindrops, I've been out in the Front Walk Garden, chopping down the ornamental grasses, and the Patio Garden, cutting the sedum stalks. I've deer-repelled, leaf-lifted and cut forsythia for forcing. I've eyeballed pruning needs and spent a moment in the gazebo. I've offered my garden for the June 5th Garden Tour.

The compost pile, swollen with offerings, is huge and ripe. The new pile, started with Christmas paper, beer cartons and cardboard, is layered with garden gleanings, sawdust and treasure from the old pile. What a delight to pitchfork last year's compost and see how it's turning into riches! The earthy smell, the magic of turning nothing into something. Is there anything better than composting?

Ah, but other chores call. The high winds and rain of the past few days have left white pine cones scattered on the grass. I need to pull out the snowplow driveway markers. I need to find my tools, straighten the shed and assess the vole damage. I need to lay in my supplies of Milorganite and Holly-tone and potting soil. (Agway, here I come!)

I try to spend at least an hour outdoors these fine cool days. To breathe the air, hear the birds sing, and watch Mother Nature work her alchemy on the earth.

What about you?

Spring?

2010-03-06T11:30:00.004-05:00

As I write this, the temperature is 42.6 and heading up. Maybe it'll reach 50 today, which will be the highest temp since what, last November? Snow piles abound, and the ground is still frozen, so not much can be done in the garden.

But.....I can scatter fertilizer, especially under the broadleaf evergreens. I can cut some witch hazel for display and forsythia for forcing. I can mix up and apply deer repellent. I can pick up sticks & pinecones. I can do a little organizing in the shed.

I believe this qualifies as the initial workday of spring '10. According to my garden diaries, this breakthrough generally occurs in the first week of March, and the chores are about the same, year to year.

Sure feels good.

Have You Noticed?

2010-02-26T07:28:00.005-05:00

Have you seen the new wash of color on the willows and red maples on the roadside as well as on distant hills? Have you heard the increasing chatter of the birds & chitter of the squirrels? Have you seen the hawks wheeling above the treetops?

The picture above, taken in Paul Young's marvelous Bethel garden, shows the glow of late-winter color on redtwig dogwood and pondside willow. The wood duck house awaits new inhabitants.

Spring is Coming!

Witch hazel is in bloom, snowdrops are ready to burst forth at the first sign of sun, and days are appreciably longer. Sugaring is in full force, so 'tis time to plant seeds, assemble the garden tools, lay in a supply of potting soil and fertilizer. Once again Mother Nature is sounding her siren song.

It's time to listen.

Color is a-Coming In!

2010-02-13T11:57:00.002-05:00

It's a dreary, overcast, raw February day, & spring is weeks off. But there's color in the garden! I just checked the witch hazel. Both 'Jelena' and 'Arnold Promise' are about to bloom. These witch hazel cultivars were a present from Paul Young, who grows magnificent specimens in his garden. The chubby buds on 'Jelena' are robust orangy-earthy tone, and 'Arnie" is boasting a hint of his bright yellow. When we get a warm day, perhaps above 40 degrees, they'll both unfurl their bright little banners of color. They are often fragrant, and the scent wafts over the White Pine Garden while I clear it of winter debris.

And take a look at the pieris! These set their flower buds the previous season, and they sit, patiently awaiting the blue skies of March to burst forth. But they give us a color present while they wait.

Both pieris and witch hazel are easy shrubs for the shade garden. Deer disregard pieris, but you'll have to spray repellent on the witch hazel. It's worth it for the preview of the season to come, isn't it?

Bees and Birds

2010-01-30T13:23:00.006-05:00

Today I'm writing my weekly newspaper column; this one's on beekeeping. I'm learning as I go, & interviewing my pal Peter Philip, who's kept bees for decades. Thinking about flowers which attract bees makes me long for warm weather.

And I'm watching the birds out my front window. The main birdfeeder is visible if I peer over the top of my computer; I can see the redbellied woodpeckers at the suet, the jays crowding the smaller wrens and juncos, and the brilliant scarlet of the male cardinals against the green of the hopper.

This morning it was 5 degrees on my back porch, so when I went to retrieve my News-Times, I scattered a birdseed mix rich in black oil sunflower seed on the sidewalk. That allows the groundfeeders to get their share, and the seed does double duty as an anti-skid substance.

However, I'll have to be sure to apply organic Preen as a preemergent come late March, so all the seed not eaten by by bird visitors doesn't germinate into weeds.

In the meantime, the birds and I are muddling through the deep cold of the winter of '09-'10.

Winter Chores

2010-01-24T14:46:00.004-05:00

'Tis the dead of January; what could there possibly be to do in the New England garden now? Much. Though I generally wait for a mild day to do anything; temps above 40 degrees are preferred. And I appreciate sunshine, however weak the rays.

Given such conditions, I grab the pruners and do some trimming on the crabapples, the forsythia, the philadelphus, and other shrubs. Yes, if I waited a few more weeks I could force some branches into bloom, but tempus fugit, and I like to act upon my inclination to work outdoors.

What else is there to be done? Scatter granular fertilizer around the base of broadleaf evergreens such as rhodies..... Pick up branches and pine cones that aren't frozen in place. (They've got to come up by spring anyway).... Clear stone paths and other hard surfaces of leaves and organic debris....Organize your pots for spring work.. ..Start laying in a supply of potting soil, amendments, and other essentials..... Keep on deer repelling....

Yep, there's a host of outdoor garden activities for January and February. And the more you accomplish these short days, the more time you'll have come mid-March when the ground thaws, the days grow longer, and the compost can be turned. That's when the season really starts!

Brush Piles and Christmas Trees

2010-01-06T14:32:00.003-05:00

Our Fraser fir did a yoeman's job this Christmas, evoking the spirit of togetherness and providing backdrop to our revelries. And though it was festooned with lights, we never got around to draping it with ornaments or tinsel. Oh well. We had a lovely Christmas anyway, with Courtney home for a 2-week sojourn from China, and Kyle dropping in frequently from his home on the other side of Bethel. Eddie was in Florida; we missed him for the holiday, but we had a nice visit from him and Esther in November.

The Christmas tree is now ready to serve another purpose. Shorn of lights, it's off to one of the brush piles on the edge of the woods. There it'll join the other Christmas trees from previous years, as well as assorted cut shrubbery and saplings that we allow to accumulate in these spots. There are now three brush piles, each some 4-5' high, and each providing shelter to a variety of wildlife.

Sometimes it's unwise to be too tidy a gardener; it's important to think of the other creatures who dwell on this fragile planet with us.

It's Finally Winter!

2009-12-27T13:57:00.004-05:00

We have snow here, as we should in a Connecticut December. It's snowed a couple of times already, and though today is warm, we should be showered in snow twice this week. So it's time for some winter gardening chores.

* If you have pots of perennials or woodies that didn't get into the ground last autumn, tip them onto their sides; don't leave them standing up. This is a technique my great gardening buddy Paul Young taught me. It prevents the roots from rotting in the inevitable freeze-thaw cycle that the next few months will bring.

* Keep up with your cuttings. Water at least once a week, and watch for signs they need to be repotted. I take coleus cuttings each autumn, and repot at least twice during the cold months, depending on how large I want my potted plants to be when I set them out in late May or early June.

* Start a new gardening diary in January. That's where to assemble a wish list of new plants, seeds, shrubs etc, for 2010, and where to list ways to ease your chores this coming season.

Happy New Gardening Year! The days are growing incrementally longer and before we know it, a new gardening cycle will start.

'Tis a too-warm autumn

2009-12-04T13:41:00.004-05:00

Is this going to be another winter like the one several years ago when the hellebores bloomed in January? I'm fearful. There aren't many years when I haven't started the winter compost, put in the pond de-icer or started the birdbath warmer by now. And I know, 'cause I keep copious notes on all things gardening in my yard, and have for nigh onto 30 years.

Spring comes 8 hours earlier every year, the pundits say, and it's borne out by my records.

While it's nice to have these johnny-jump-ups in my yard in December, as well as the salvia 'Victoria' still in bloom and the 'Knockout' roses in the backyard garden, their presence makes me worry what we've done to the planet.

Does this bad boy live in YOUR neighborhood?

2009-11-26T12:18:00.004-05:00

It's not a northern bamboo. It's not an ornamental. It's Japanese knotweed and it's taking over large swaths of Connecticut, creating monocultures and choking out useful plants that provide homes and food for wildlife.

A fast-growing, aggressive perennial, this knotweed spreads by rhizomes and doesn't appear to be particular about where it infests. I see it on roadsides, along streams, in abandoned fields, and in hedgerows. Like so many invasives, it was introduced to America as an ornamental decades ago and has escaped cultivation to become a noxious weed.

If you have this thug, removal is recommended if you don't want it to take over. My gardening friend, Don Warfield, and I have been working on removing Japanese knotweed from a stretch of Rte. 58 in southern Bethel for a couple of years. Here's the approach we've found works best:

1. Cut down the reddish shoots that emerge in the early spring. They can be tugged out, albeit with difficulty. A hand-held claw works well to evict them from the soil.

2. During the first year of eradication, be prepared to rip out the stems about once every 6 weeks. Try to do it after a rain, when the ground is softer.

3. If you've been diligent, the second year just a few shoots will emerge, but these must be removed as well, or the entire grove will return.

4. Monitor thereafter.

In the area we've freed, more desireable material such as aster, milkweed and chicory is returning. Don and I both check the progress of our little freed area on a regular basis. We feel it's important to do our bit for the land. Won't you help, too?

Let's get familiar with Fothergilla

2009-11-07T16:59:00.004-05:00

Such a funny name for such a marvelous shrub. Dwarf fothergilla (Fothergilla gardenii) or bottlebrush shrub, is native to the Eastern United States and thrives in sun or shade. It'll grow to 3' high and 3' wide, (Fothergilla major, also native, will grow to 10' x 15', by contrast) Both have several seasons of interest. The fragrant, bottle-brush shaped flowers appear in spring; the somewhat crinkled green leaves stay crisp all summer; and tah-dah! the fall foliage boasts a symphony of orange, purple, and red hues. The shrub colors up late (like right now) and holds it well.

I added fothergilla three years ago to my White Pine Garden, a semi-circular bed under a majestic white pine on the south, albeit shady side of the yard. It's accompanied by Azalea 'Beauman's Pink', & 'Mother's Day'; by witch hazel 'Jelena' and 'Arnold Promise'; by redcedar juniper seedlings which I purchase from Alice Mayer at our annual church Bazaar, (coming up next Saturday, the 14th!); an oakleaf hydrangea which I think is 'Pee Wee', and a curtsey of various hosta. All the plantings are shade tolerant, and though I do apply deer repellent, they've not been bothered in the several years they've been in residence.

It's not always easy to find attractive, native, shade-tolerant shrubs that also lend interest all season. Give fothergilla a chance, you won't be sorry.

My Sassafras Story

2009-10-29T14:11:00.004-04:00

When we moved here to Fairfield County, Connecticut our woods edge hosted a few sassafras. I'm almost sure of it. These small trees are easy to identify, since they have three different shaped leaves; hand, mitten and glove.

Dunno what ever happened to them, but they're long gone. Did the blankety-blank deer eat them? Did disease wipe them out? Whatever. So I've been searching for a few little ones to get started around the edges of the Backyard Garden. Paul Young has been helping me in this, but those little trees are the devil to transplant.

Earlier this year Florence and Donna Bosworth invited us to come and dig up what I naively believed were sassafras seedlings from the huge specimen in their front yard. Paul & I trotted up there on a damp March day, only to find the "seedlings" were actually root suckers. We dug and potted 5 or 6, nonetheless. They had no roots of their own and we weren't optimistic about their survival. I placed them by my shed, and waited. Lo and behold, they sprouted leaves! So I moved them into more sunlight, and they thrived.

Until August, when they all but one faded, lost their leaves and seemingly croaked.

I waited a month before I took action. When no revival was apparent, and I needed the pots, I yanked out the sticks and tossed them into the brush pile. Then I looked at 'em.

Drat! They all had little white roots...they were alive! At least, they had been until I pulled them from their home.

Above is the sole baby remaining It's still in its original pot (with some volunteer forget-me-not). The fall color is exquisite, don't you think? I'll keep it potted this winter, tipping the pot over once the ground freezes so the roots don't rot. And plant the little guy early next spring. Here's hoping he makes it!

Paul and I have been invited to dig more sassafras come March. Maybe I won't inadvertently murder next year's crop.

Gorgeous Autumn Color

2009-10-03T09:16:00.004-04:00

Regular readers here know I'm enamoured of all things hydrangea. The delicate lacecaps of 'Blue Bird', the spectacular purple blooms of 'Glowing Embers', the old-fashioned pink of 'Preziosa', to name but a few of my favorites. Here's another:

Hydrangea paniculata 'Pinky Winky' is one of the large, late-blooming types that decorate our yards in fall. The 12" to 16", conical-shaped flowers start out white, gradually turn pink and end up a deep, resonant rose. The plant stays in bloom for at least two months, and flowers on new wood, so you don't have to worry about winter kill. It produces regardless of climate, soil, pH or pruning. He's hardy to Zone 4.

Pinky is a moderately big fellow, eventually reaching to 6-8 feet. I do protect him with deer repellent, and he's not been bothered by hungry herbivores. Pinky appreciates a spring application of slow-release fertilizer meant for trees and shrubs, and like most of his ilk, does best in 1/2 to 3/4 day sun, at least here in Connecticut.

Grow this guy where you can see him frequently---he's a beaut!

What's in Bloom in Your Garden?

2009-09-29T19:10:00.004-04:00

Autumn is upon us, but that's no reason to give up on color in the garden. We here in Connecticut have at least another month of vibrancy at our fingertips, if we plan well. Here's some of what's blooming today in my yard:

Annual Vines: Morning glory, cardinal flower & scarlet runner bean

Shrubs: Oakleaf hydrangea, and 'Pinky Winky', 'Preziosa', 'Blue Bird', 'Nikko Blue', 'Blushing Bride', 'Endless Summer' hydrangea, 'Knockout' roses, spirea.

Perennials: various asters, Japanese anemone, several types of sedum, turtlehead, daylily 'Happy Returns', phlox paniculata, coneflower, obedient plant, buddliea.

Annuals: impatiens, verbena, cleome, portulaca, marigold, salvia 'Victoria', perilla, petunia,

Bulbs: dahlia, caladium, cyclamen.

And that's off the top of my head, excluding the wildflowers such as goldenrod; the red and gold fruit on the crabapple trees, viburnum & kousa dogwood; the patio pots, and the goldfish.

The point is, it's easy to have all-season color in your garden. For each plant you choose in the spring, also pick up a late bloomer. You'll soon have a garden full of flowers from March 'til November!

Blogging from Beijing

2009-09-20T05:37:00.004-04:00

Actually, blogging from Beijing, as I found out, is not possible. At least not last week, when I was there. Sites are regularly blocked, according to my daughter, Courtney, who has lived in BJ for years.

But here are some of my impressions of horticulture & gardening in that huge city:

There is much more greenery lining the streets, and pots of annuals prettying things up, than when I was last there, in '04. Willows along the channelled riverbanks, which were full of interesting-colored water. Small sycamores and oaks elsewhere. Large locust trees.

Elaborate arrangements of annuals were placed in various spots; begonias, impatiens, other familiar flowering plants. Modern China is about to celebrate its 60th anniversary; there was much decorating of the streets going on with these.

The large squares, such as the one at the Olympic site and Tienneman, held little greenery and no birds. Just huge expanses of concrete.

Soil in potted plants, and small plots with ornamental trees, etc. looked nutrient-poor, and was not mulched.

The Flower Market, held near the American Embassy, was a bustling place full of vendors hawking annuals, houseplants and decorative items for the home, such as statuary.

There is an veritable army of workers setting up and tending to plants.

Watering is apparently done from large trucks at night, with workers administering what look like fire-hose quantities of water.

The Beijing Botanical Garden, on the far outskirts of the city in the northwestern hills, is an oasis of green, with a temple, wide paths, simple perennials, man-made watercourses, and a lovely, expansive lilac area. It was the only place we visited where we were the only white people, and Jerry, with his white beard and curly white hair, got some stares.

All in all, things in BJ look greener and more colorful than several years ago, though some of the street trees are suffering. I believe there was much planting done for the Olympics, and that effort shows.

I'll post some pictures when I can find them on my camera!

The Glory of Grasses

2009-09-02T12:06:00.005-04:00

'Tis September and time for the ornamental grasses to shine. What's that? You say you don't have room for the big fellows like miscanthus 'Variegata' or panicum 'Shenandoah'? They do take up gaboons of space, and true, not every gardener has space for them. But fear not! There's an array of smaller grasses to choose from. Grasses which lend an air of sophistication, movement and grace to even the tiniest patch of Mother Earth.

So consider the following little guys:

Festuca 'Elijah Blue', a 12" spiky mound of blue-green foliage.

Pennesitum 'Hamelin', a swaying mass of foliage, about 24" in height.

Pennesitum 'Little Bunny', just as cute as its name, and only 18" high. (see above)

Be sure to leave some room in your garden for grasses, no matter what size plot you have. There's something about them that appeals to the westward-ho pioneer in all of us. But more than that, their beauty, form and elegance fulfill a garden need.

Mid-August Musings

2009-08-21T12:35:00.005-04:00

It's hot. I'm busy. Except to water patio pots, and pull a few pilea & sorrel weeds, I haven't spent much time in my precious garden the past few weeks. But that's OK, because a lot of forethought has gone into taking some time off during the dog days. My well-planned and planted perennial garden will do by itself during these times. The garden includes flowering shrubs such as clethra and hydrangea; self-sowing annuals such as perilla, verbena bonariensis, and cleome; and stalwart perennials such as rudbeckia and phlox. The swallowtail, monarchs, skipper, and painted lady butterflies which are drawn to these summer bloomers add movement and grace to the summer garden, even if all I want to do is admire it from inside my air-conditioned home.

As you plan your perennial bed (and we should all be planning, every year), remember to include a few of the hard workers mentioned above. They add easy late-season color, fragrance and interest to the garden of the work-weary gardener.

A Rescue Story

2009-08-08T05:53:00.004-04:00

There are many inexpensive ways for a gardener to increase her stock. Seed-starting, plant exchange, division, Garden Club plant sales, etc. Another technique I've used successfully is rescuing church plants.

Especially at Easter, but at other times, too, there are apt to be leftover potted plants that once graced the altar. If they're orphans, it might be possible for you to give them a new home. Just ask. Better they should be given a chance in the garden than deposited into the Dumpster.

In this way I've successfully grown on pansies, daffodils, (pass on the tulips; they're not likely to do well) hydrangeas (not always hardy, though), grape hyacinths, and my most spectacular effort, Easter Lilies.

A couple of years in a row, forlorn lilies have been left at my church, Bethel United Methodist, after Easter celebrations. The plants look quite bedraggled after several weeks of sitting in a confining container. But I toted them home, planted in a sunny, well-drained site, and watered well. My reward has been many fragrant blooms on sturdy plants that light up the early July garden.

Now if I can just keep them from the voles!

Gardener's Origins

2009-08-01T07:22:00.003-04:00

How, when, does one become a gardener? What draws us to the soil, to the creation of beauty, to participation in the never-ending cycle of birth and death and rejuvenation? I'm sure we each have our own stories of how we came to be part of Nature's great garden.

Mine has something to do with being raised in a small town in western New York State. It has something to do with my agrarian ancestors. And it has something to do with being at the Woodstock Music and Art Fair in Bethel, New York, in the summer of 1969.

My Woodstock story was chosen as a chapter in the recently-issued book, Woodstock Revisited. This month, the 40th anniversary of that signature event, I'll be doing talks and readings on the book and on Woodstock. Look for me at:

Borders Southbury, Saturday, August 1. 2-4

Borders Danbury, Saturday, August 22nd. 2-4

Gunn Library in Washington, CT. Thursday August 27th, 6:30 to 8.

For those of you who remember the 60's, come and reminisce. For those of you you wish you'd been there, come and hear about it from those who were present. And for those of you who are gardeners, come and hear a unique tale of a gardener in the making.

My Favorite Daylily

2009-07-26T15:10:00.005-04:00

'Tis daylily season again. In the depths of summer, from the end of June until the end of August, each day brings a cascade of color among the 60 or so hemerocallis I grow. Between prodigious amounts of deer repellent and broadcastings of Milorganite, the deer don't visit, though I see them crashing through the woods on their way to the pond below.

And so it is that I stand on my deck in the early morning, watching the color rise from the backyard garden. And of course, I'm out most evenings, bucket in hand, deadheading the daylilies.

I grow big daylilies, tiny daylilies, yellow, white, pink, orange and most every other color of daylily. Shown above is my all-time favorite. It's big, strong, very purple, and performs well in semi-shade. I've had it for years and it's been in several different parts of my yard. Now it graces the edge of the patio garden, where it's easily seen and admired from the screen porch, the deck and the patio. I lovingly count the buds each spring, and tenderly put the plant to bed each autumn. What's the name, you might ask, of such a wonderful perennial?

I haven't a clue.

I wish I did. Once upon a time I knew what this beauty was called. But because I didn't label it, or write down the cultivar, I can't purchase more of it, nor recommend it to friends and clients.

And herein lies the lesson for today. As my garden mentor, Paul Young, keeps telling me, labeling is essential. He labels each and every one of his thousand hostas. Though time-consuming at first, I know it's not a great big deal to choose a labeling method, but just like deer repelling, one must do it regularly. Whether one writes on wooden popsicle sticks, or orders fancy enameled mini-signposts, label as soon as you acquire a new plant and replace that label as needed.

Then, and only then, can you be sure of what you're growing. We gardeners always think we'll remember what we've planted.

Fat Chance!

Queen of the Prairie

2009-07-18T12:38:00.005-04:00

The filipendula's gotta go. I've given it several years, at least 5 or 6. Oh, it blooms beautifully, right along with the astilbe, hydrangeas and veronica, and before the Joe Pye. It looks terrific from above as one gazes down on the backyard garden from the screen porch. And close up, those fluffy pink heads are downright yummy. It's easy to grow, nothing declares it dinner, and filipendula reproduces like a rabbit.

Problem is, it's too tall and in need of too much sun for my ever-shadier backyard garden. At 6', she's truly a queen, but she dominates the hosta, rose, rudbeckia, and whatever else I have down there. She drapes over them, hogging precious light and air. Time to move on, madame. And this time I mean it. I'd removed clumps before, but clearly a clean slate is needed. Of course, next I'l be faced with the delightful problem of what to plant in the space. How about that new huge hosta, 'Sum of All'? Or maybe some tall, late astilbe. I could fit in another hydrangea....

Whatever. Next spring, my gardening friends, be on the lookout for many pots of my well-grown but unlamented filipendula at the Bethel Garden Club plant sale.

You'll get a beautiful bargain.

2009-07-12T14:08:00.003-04:00

July presents a jumble of glorious flowers and shrubs. Hydrangea, hostas, daylillies, annuals, lilies, astilbe, monarda, roses, gypsophilia and many more. It's a visual feast. I like to have my first cup of coffee on the deck at daybreak, looking out over the backyard garden. Even the birds aren't really astir, but that's when I edit with my eyes. The filipendula is too big, needs to come out next year. The coneflower isn't getting enough sun, what can I put there instead? The astilbe has outdone itself this summer, especially the 'Visions' series. So on and so forth. Then I retreat to my green wicker chair on the screen porch, pen in hand, and write it all down in my garden diary.

Perhaps the changes will get done, perhaps not. It's fun to ponder and plan. And to read what I've written. One of my favorite pasttimes is perusing old entries in my garden diaries. What was I doing in the yard this week last year? How did I combat the groundhogs the year they attacked the morning glories? When did the mulch finally run out in '07?

In another post I'll discuss my ever-growing appreciation for hostas, a gift from my great gardening buddy, Paul Young. Suffice it to say that no gardener with shade should be without hosta. The cultivar pictured above is 'Pandora's Box', in flower. A petite beauty, she adorns the edge of my 'Believe' patch, named after a stepping-stone given to me by Muriel.

There's a wealth of subject matter for a garden blogger during the month of July. But one must be selective with topics. Just as the gardener cannot grow everything she lusts after, I can't write about every plant that takes my breath away this month.

We'll have to make do with Pandora.

New in the Garden This Year

2009-07-06T04:37:00.006-04:00

I encourage fellow gardeners to try new things each year. That's one way to grow as a gardener, keeping things interesting, challenging and vibrant. This year, for instance, I'm trying a pretty plant I saw in my friend Kathy's garden. It blooms with a cluster of magenta flowers on a 12" stalk, likes sun, and is a ready self-sower. Now, magenta is my favorite color, and self-sowers are a favored type of plant. I had to have some! Kathy didn't know the name, but gifted me several basal rosettes, which I transplanted into my mailbox garden. Then the search was on for what the heck the plant was. I enlisted the aid of my gardening friend Alice, to whom the plant looked familiar, but neither she nor I could come up with the name.

Thank goodness for the Internet! Since the plant resembled rose campion in some ways, I typed that in, examined the pictures, re-examined a bloom stalk I'd picked, and shortly came up with an answer---my new acquisition was indeed a relative of rose campion; German catchfly. It's pretty, and prolific. I'll have to watch its manners, so that it doesn't overrun its designated place, but I'm happy to have it.

Other newbies to me this year are dragon wing begonia, hakonechloa 'Evergold' and astilbe 'Maggie Daley'.

Gotta keep things fresh!

Rain Woes

2009-07-01T05:50:00.003-04:00

I never thought I'd say this in all my born days, but Enough Already With the Rain. 'Course, I'm pretty sure I caused this debacle with my News-Times column back in what, April, when I bemoaned how far the Northeast was under for rainfall, year-to-date. Last time I ever do that!

We're all struggling. From the waterlogged pots to the bumper crop of slugs to the rot on the roses, it's a monsoon season. I've been gardening seriously for 30-some years and according to my garden diaries, we've never seen the like. If it would just pour down once a week or so, that'd be fine. But No, we have at least a daily dribble.

What's a gardener to do? First, be philosophic. One of my gardening beliefs is that I'm gonna lose 15% of all I grow, each and ever year. This year it's due to rain. Other years it might be voles, or (god forbid!) deer. Relax, it's going to happen.

Second, appreciate the situation. Our plants ARE getting watered, and not by us. Our ponds ARE full, thanks to the heavens. Our reservoirs ARE running over, so no worries there. Transplant season HAS lasted waaay longer than usual due to the damp earth.

When you're a gardener you go with the flow. That's never been truer than this year.

Virginia bluebells

2009-06-20T04:38:00.004-04:00

Is there anything prettier in the early spring garden than Virginia Bluebells? The 18" graceful arching stems, the blue of the blossoms, the pink of the buds, the blue-green of the clean leaves, the name, the lack of disease or predators, her comportment in the vase, the fact that she's a native, all combine to make mertensia one of my favorite sights in the April garden. And, of course, she decorously disappears by summer to make way for overplanting with annuals such as impatiens or wax begonias.

However. Prior to fading away things get downright ugly. The stems bend over, turn yellow, and in general are not pretty. We must, however, let the plant go through this stage in order for it to recharge itself for next spring, when we'll be thrilled to see her again.

And if we're fortunate, during the yellow stage Virginia will have cast a promiscuous amount of seed, and we'll be granted a bounty of new little bluebells which will bloom in ensuing springs.

Thankfully, it's now time to cut and compost the old foliage. Clean up her area of any stray weeds, and either mulch or plant colorful annuals.

So let Virginia have her way, let her droop over the garden path, and let her seed ripen and spread over the shade garden. We'll be the richer for it.

Weigela 'Eyecatcher'

2009-06-14T08:47:00.001-04:00

I never had much truck with weigelas; they seemed old-fashioned and unwieldy. As I've matured in my gardening, tho, I've come to appreciate them, especially the new cultivars, such as 'Eyecatcher', shown here in its second (or is it third?) year in my Front Walk Garden.

Why the appeal? First, color in the garden demands use of flowering shrubs, and weigela comports to my wishes by blooming after the latest of the lilacs and before the spirea and waaay before the clethra. Also, the smaller cultivars are a manageable size ('Eyecatcher should top out at some 2') for the smaller gardens of today. Though it has no discernible scent, this is balanced by the fact that, at least in my garden, weigela is not eaten by deer, chomped upon by groundhogs, nor nibbled to death by slugs.

Admittedly, it needs a haircut, and it'll get one this week as soon as it finishes blooming, which is the best time to prune many flowering shrubs. (If we wait, we chance pruning off next year's flowers.)

The chartreuse of 'Dreamcatcher' is one of many spots of this color I now place in my gardens. Other examples are humulus 'Aurea', kolkwitzia 'Dreamcatcher', hosta 'Golden Friendship', and many more. As a young gardener I refused to employ this color, believing it made my plants look ill. Now I understand the punches of color chartruese provides, the counterpoint to the many pinks and purples I use in my gardens, and the simple happiness of such a bright hue.

Weigela 'Eyecatcher'. In my book, it's a showcase plant. Put it where all can see.

The Electric Lawnmower

2009-06-06T15:52:00.004-04:00

We've had the same old gasoline-powered, fume-spewing, bombastic lawnmower since we moved into our home some 17 years ago. I'd cringe each time I dragged it out of the shed to cut our (increasingly smaller) patch of lawn. Last year I tried to find one of the new battery operated mowers, to no avail. Before I purchased one, I wanted to pat it down, heft it, etc.

I couldn't find one. Anywhere. But late in autumn, I was given an corded electric mower, one that wasn't being used. I was eager to try it out this spring. Here's my verdict:

'Tis a good thing! It's lightweight, quieter than the old mower, (though not as quiet as I thought it'd be) and does a respectable job of cutting the grass. It turns easily, mulches, and starts with no effort whatsoever.

There is one drawback. That cord. I need a humongous extension cord in order to reach all corners of my yard. That means that this spatially-challenged laborer must constantly figure out where the cord is, so I don't exterminate it by running over it. I also have to roll it up, guy-fashion, after each use, since it's no good to me in a snarled mess. I'm getting better.

And one more thing; hose guards are a must, so the taut cord doesn't destroy various plants and shrubs.

All in all, I'm pleased. Our mower no longer emits noxious gasoline fumes each time I mow the lawn; the neighborhood is quieter, and I feel quite righteous.

But I'm still looking for the battery-operated mower. Or perhaps I'll consider one of those new reel types. I hear they cut pretty sharp and are lightweight.

Stay tuned!

Phlox divaricata

2009-05-30T16:34:00.004-04:00

I've long loved wild Sweet William, the woodland phlox whose Latin name is phlox divaricata. Growing just 8" to 10", with a sweet fragrance and blossoms that sway in the early-spring breeze, this phlox is as easy as its name is complicated. I prefer 'London Grove Blue', which cheerfully spreads each year in my semi-shaded Main Garden. It blooms in concert with Bleeding Heart, just prior to the bearded iris, and lasts a couple of weeks.

But for years I kept purchasing new plants in order to increase the stand. I hadn't taught myself to recognize its seedlings and so was mulching over them or ripping them out as weeds. This spring I forced myself to slow down long enough from garden chores of edging, cleaning out the fishpond, transplanting baby trees, potting up material for the Garden Club Plant Sale, etc, and get nose-to-nose with my phlox divaricata.

Eureka! I figured out which were the choice 'London Grove' seedlings and thus worth saving. I deliberately did not mulch around them, leaving the 2-3" babies in solitary splendor, the easier to later transplant.

One of the best ways for a gardener to own more plants is to coddle her own seedlings. I've always advised students to learn the seedlings of one new plant each year. Too bad it took me so long to recognize 'London Grove'.

But I've got it now!

Forget-me-nots

2009-05-24T09:56:00.006-04:00

I admit it, I have a thing for old-fashioned flowers. It's the heritage, the sturdiness, the fragrance (sometimes), the ease, the fact that generations of gardeners have known and loved certain plants.

Forget-me-nots fall into this category. I purchased my first myosotis 20 or more years ago when we lived in New Jersey, and carted one plant to Connecticut where they've dutifully propogated themselves and bloomed enthusiastically in my garden ever since. Mostly they produce the familiar tiny blue flowers with yellow centers, but occasionally they surprise me with pink blooms.

But I manage my myosotis. They may not realize it, but I do. Since they're self-sowers, it's imperative to edit. I allow them to bloom pretty much wherever they wish in my mostly shady garden; as an edger, in the midst of the azalea bed, among the emerging hosta and astilbe. They prefer moist locales, but it's interesting where they'll pop up. I love the wash of blue they impart to most of my beds and the fact that they'll bloom their ever-loving heads off for three to four weeks, depending on weather.

But then.....I murder them.

Because, once past bloom, forget-me-nots become downright ugly. They turn into black, moldy, unsightly lumps in my beautiful gardens. So out they come. Yep, I rip 'em right out of their dandy little growing spots and compost the hideous things. The trick is, I wait until they're finished blooming to dispatch them. That way they've had plenty of time to cast seed and guarantee their appearance next spring.

As you can see from the picture, forget-me-nots add an ephemeral beauty to the garden. I wouldn't be without them.

But I'm the Boss.

Mulching Miracles

2009-05-15T05:50:00.003-04:00

Here's 5 good things about mulch:

It keeps your good organic soil from washing away.
It keeps moisture in.
It keeps soil temperatures steady.
It suppresses weeds.
It beautifies your landscape.

Of course, the negative thing about mulch is that it has to be applied! Witness the mountain of mulch that still blocks my driveway. I had 8 yards delivered about three weeks ago, and with much hauling, cursing, mumbling and some strong teenage help, I've gotten maybe half on the garden. Now deep into May, I begin to feel I'm NEVER going to get finished. As I lug the buckets (I can't use wheelbarrows due to the steepness of the property and the thickness of the plantings) I generally find something that has to be done before the mulch can be put down. Weeds to pull or behead, a chlorotic rose, slug damage, a transplant Necessity, etc. So I'm delayed. But I like to think the garden benefits as a whole.

Those of you who read my weekly News-Times column know I like the dark, organic mulches, such as Sweet Peet and Agrimix. I don't use dyed material, and I don't use stones, rubber or peat moss. I want a product that will not only enhance the garden but improve it as well. By the end of the season an organic mulch will have mostly melted into garden soil, enriching it. Of course, that means that mulching is an annual chore, but oh well.

This year I've set June 1st as my Finish-the-Mulch goal. Let's I hope I get there.

The Transient Beauty of Spring

2009-05-10T05:19:00.005-04:00

The colors and blooms of spring are often fleeting, and in the shade garden this is particularly true. Such plants as bloodroot, Virginia bluebells, lunaria and bleeding heart make a dashing appearance and then dash away, not to be seen again until next year. But oh, the impression they make while visiting! To flaunt their beauty, they take advantage of the dappled light available at this season before deciduous trees fully leaf out. Scattered about on the floor of the shade garden, they, along with tiarella, phlox divericata, ginger, pulmonaria, and lingering hellebore brighten the gardener's heart. Gardener's whimsy in the form of early botanical tulips sparks further interest.

But what happens to the deeply-shaded garden once these beauties have passed? It's important to have "bones" to carry intrigue through the next five months. These can include, as above, such structural items as the picket fence, blue birdbath, and fieldstone path. Japanese painted and maidenhair ferns lend structure and pique curiosity. Areas in the shade garden which receive more sun can support bright hosta such as 'June'. Azaleas, deutzia 'Chardonnay Pearl' and rainbow leucothe also help. The varied leaves of heuchera stay the season. And of course, plantings of shade-tolerant annuals in clumps throughout the bed assist in maintaining interest.

Many of the spring ephemerals are self-sowers. If you wish to increase their stock for next year, refrain from mulching until the ginger, lunaria, Virginia bluebells, phlox and bloodroot have had a chance to cast seed.

A shade garden is often the kindest imitation of Mother Nature, who plants in groups on the forest floor and whose tranquil, soothing scenery calms the weary soul. With planning, your garden can reflect the best our Mother has to offer.

The Rules for Watering

2009-05-03T06:54:00.008-04:00

There aren't any hard and fast rules, of course. But there are wise practices. As the earth warms and water becomes ever more precious a resource, we must husband what we have. In fact this sping we here in Connecticut are 8" under so far for moisture. Shocking, isn't it?

Here's some suggestions on how to utilize what we have:

Purchase an attractive watering can, one of substantial size (maybe 2 gallons). It should balance well in your hand, have a removable rose, and be presentable enough to live in the garden. (I love my French Blue from Gardener's Supply in Burlington, VT). Keep it filled at all times, especially as you leave the garden at the end of a workday. That way it's always handy to employ on a moment's notice.

Obtain a good hose, keep it coiled and ready to use. If your's is a large garden, having one in each section is smart. Invest in hose guides so that as you use the hose across yard & garden it doesn't smash your lovely plants. (my hose guides are dark brown metal, ornamented with little birds, and they stay in place all season long)

Set up a rain barrel. These are widely available nowadays, and are a direct descendant of the wooden barrels our grandmas had under the downspouts of our childhood homes, catching all that soft rainwater. One or two of these, hard at work snagging all the free water sheeting off the roof will go a long ways towards conserving water.

Irrigate early in the day, if possible, to avoid evaporation in the midday sun. Try not to water in the evening; that promotes fungal disease.

Refrain from watering your lawn. Instead, keep your lawn soil rich by using a mulching mower; dusting with a thin layer of compost; and incorporating clover into the seed mix. Grit your teeth in times of drought; the lawn may go dormant, but it'll come back!

Keep your garden soil organic and therefore able to retain moisture. Dig in that compost!

Mulch, mulch, mulch. Use an organic product such as Sweet Peet or Agrimix. Mulch helps the rainfall to soak into the garden; it keeps soil moisture from evaporating; it beautifies your garden; and it prevents erosion, just to name a few of its attributes.

Wise use of water befriends Mother Earth, upon whom we all ultimately depend. Do your part.

The Work Table

2009-04-26T15:46:00.004-04:00

Like most gardeners, this is an exceedingly busy time. April is transplant month, begin-to-mulch month, make-the-lists month, start-to-weed month, etc, etc. One of my favorite things to also do is pot up garden surplus for the Bethel Garden Club Plant Sale, to be held this year on the morning of the 16th of May, at the old Train Station.

Garden Club plant sales are a win-win for all involved. The gardener gets to thin out the herd, the purchaser obtains plants guaranteed to grow, because they were just dug up from a local garden. Town beautification projects benefit from the proceeds. And the prices! You'll not find a better deal.

But it can be a lot of backbreaking work readying potted homes for all those little lilacs, buddleia, forget-me-nots, columbine, and assorted other beauties. It's no fun to be bent over pots and soil and little plants in the hot sun. So several years ago I asked Jerry to fix me up a temporary potting area under the deck. For the month of April I store all the fixins ---pots, soil, scoops, water, plants, etc. The table is simply a piece of plywood placed on two sawhorses, oriented so I can see out over my Patio and Backyard gardens. I can listen to the finches while I divide the peonies. The first butterflies waft while I pot up the buddleia. And at the end of the month, POOF! The whole mess goes away, I get out my hammock, sweep away the mess, and enjoy my scant leisure time.

I rest secure in the knowledge that I've prepared some 50 (sometimes more!) choice plants from my garden for their new homes, and in the process, supported both my Garden Club and my town.

What could be better?

What's the Difference?

2009-04-22T05:53:00.006-04:00

Nope, this isn't a quiz. But the similarity between scilla (on the left) and chionodoxa, also know as glory of the snow (above) has puzzled me for years. Apparently, and accidentally, I grow both. But I couldn't tell 'em apart. Both of these low-growing spring beauties produce nodding blue flowers in early April. Both reproduce with wanton abandon. Both make lovely delicate bouquets.

It nagged at me....which was which?

Last week, when these guys sprang up once again in several areas in my garden, I decided it was time to teach myself a lesson. I grabbed my garden journal and plunked myself down nose-to-nose with a cluster of each. I wrote down their peculiarities , paying close attention to flower & leaf color, size, angle of flowering, stamen & pistil and stem. This is what I learned:

Scilla are a deeper shade of blue, and look downward. Chionodoxa are more of a pastel blue, and they look up.

I decided that's all I need to know. It's probably all you want to know, too. Both these flowers are super easy, not tasty to critters, and will carpet your garden with early spring color, then decorously disappear, leaving room for later courses. Plan to purchase the tiny bulbs by the bagful come autumn. Give them a semi-shady home and fertilize yearly with Bulb-tone. In gratitude, they'll jump about your garden to unexpected locales, but try to contrast them with daffodil 'Tete-a-Tete' for a feast for the winter-weary eye.

Not all gardening questions must be answered. Perhaps ascertaining the difference between scilla and chionodoxa is one of those questions.

Let's just enjoy them.

Rejuvenating Houseplants

2009-04-11T09:13:00.007-04:00

As if you didn't have enough to do outdoors in the early spring, this also happens to be a perfect time to repot houseplants. Scrutinize your ferns, philodendrons, peace lilies, coleus, etc. If they look peaked or off color; if they wilt quickly after watering, or if their roots are peeking out the drainage hole, they may need repotting. If you'd like them to still fit into the same pot they're currently living in, here's a way to do it:

Gather supplies, including a supply of good-quality potting soil. (I like Miracle-gro, which already has fertilizer). Find the watering can. If working indoors, cover the work surface with plastic or toweling.

Select the new pot; fill it partway with moistened potting soil. Grab your overgrown plant and haul it out of its pot (if it's root bound, this is easy to do---just poke your finger in the hole at the bottom of the pot and push. There IS a hole in the bottom of the pot, isn't there?) Or gently grab the topgrowth and pull. Or wedge a narrow spatula or trowel in between the soil and the pot.

Now lay the potless plant sideways on the table. Take this opportunity to trim off dead dangling leaves & stems.

Here comes the interesting part: Pick up a heavy-duty serrated knife and slice off the bottom quartile of the root ball. I know, I know, this is serious stuff! But if Mother Nature's in active growing mode, as she is in early spring, the plant won't mind a'tall. Set the slice aside for the compost pile. Now plunk the rest of the plant into the fresh potting soil at the same level it was previously growing, and water. Give it a day or so of shade to recuperate from its minor outpatient surgery, then put it back where it lives. Voila! The grateful plant will stick its roots into fertile soil, and thrive.

Now wash your hands, shush the spouse who's complaining about the mess, and congratulate yourself on giving your houseplant a new lease on life.

P.S. This technique may also be used for patio pots come midsummer, when your lovelies are looking tired and have grown so much that you just can't keep up with the watering.

P.P.S For those of you interested in more gardening tips, please see my monthly e-newletter. The most recent issue was sent Tuesday, April 7th, from Morning Glory Gardens. If you're not a subscriber and would like to be, send me an e-mail at colleenplimpton@yahoo.com & I'll put you on the list!

New Life for Old Geraniums

2009-04-06T13:18:00.005-04:00

It's time to start thinking about what annuals will decorate our gardens, porches and patios this year. Impatiens, zinnia, or lantana? How about morning glory, coleus or ageratum? Going to try snapdragons or browallia? Many of us will choose stalwart potted geraniums. They're sturdy, come in a variety of vivid colors, bloom continuously 'til hard frost, and even make a decent cut flower bouquet. But gosh, $5.00 or more a plant?! And starting them from seed takes forever. What's a frugal gardener to do?

Save 'em from last year! Easy to do, and quite au courant in the midst of a recession. Here's the necessary steps:

Purchase and enjoy your geraniums this season.
Just before frost next October, trowel out healthy plants you'd like to save.
Shake the dirt off their roots, and lay flat in an unheated, dark space. (I put mine on shelves in my garage.) You need a dry location where the temps don't drop below freezing. If you want to keep the colors straight, label them. Believe me, you'll never remember which is which without labels.
Don't even look at the poor things until the beginning of March. By then you may see little green shoots erupting from the dead-looking stems.
Drag out the pathetic objects, prune to about 3-5", pot 'em up and place in good light & some warmth. I put mine in a bay window until daytime temps are reliably above 40. Keep from freezing. Most of those scraggly plants will reward you with new growth in a couple of weeks. Harden them off as spring progresses. Geraniums are cold-tolerant, so may be planted in the garden generally by late April.
You'll lose some plants, but soon there'll be a new crop from what used to be throwaways.

Congratulations! You've learned to recycle one more thing.

The Fishpond

2009-03-28T06:06:00.005-04:00

My small fishpond looks its yukkiest this time of year. Full of debris, dark in color and still with its deicer in place, it looks uninhabitated. Not So! Under the mire are frogs still a-slumber, and goldfish slowly swim its murky depths. I won't clean the pond out until the frogs emerge from hibernation several weeks hence. But since the nights are now above freezing, it's time to remove the deicer that's been plugged in since early December. The 6" round green disk floats on the surface, keeping a space ice-free, and thus allowing the gas exchange which permits fish and amphibians to survive the winter.

My 8' circular pond, only 18" in depth, has been in place nine years now, and remains a source of joy. Not too much maintenance is required. I give it a good cleanup in April, run the waterfall regularly in the warm months, (which keeps the water oxygenated) and rely on barley straw (available at Gardener's Supply, among other places) to control algae. A couple of times a season I do have to scoop out a layer of string algae, but that stuff gives an aquatic boost to the compost pile.

I learned the hard way how not to kill overwintering frogs. After the first disasterous winter when I had to have Courtney's boyfriend scoop out carcasses come spring, I figured that since my pond has a butyl liner and therefore no mud into which to burrow for hibernation, I had to do something else. Here's what I did:

First, I left the autumn debris in the pond. I know, I know, this runs counter to what the books tell you. But the layer of junk gives the frogs something to live in. Second, I sank a plastic dishwasher pan of clean sand into the water. (It comes out in pond cleanup in April, & is stored in the shed.) Since I've been doing these two things I've seen no more dead frogs in my fishpond.

The pond, with its murmuring waterfall, glistening fish, and regal green frogs, is an oasis in my garden. For a few paltry hours of maintenance I get sound, color, and livestock. A worthy deal!

Prepping the Pots

2009-03-23T04:31:00.005-04:00

To brighten my shady patio, I plant and maintain around 50 pots of annuals each year, clustered by the posts to the deck and beside my hammock. Their schedule goes something like this:

The empty pots are stored upside down under my deck all winter, and hauled out in March. Now's the time! Yesterday I raked and swept the patio, positioned the pots, filled them halfway with homemade compost, and proceeded to top off with purchased potting soil. I prefer Miracle-Gro or similar products, with fertilizer already incorporated. To cut watering chores, I add Soil-Moist to the uppermost layer. I give the soil a week or so to settle, then pop in the annuals. For now it's just pansies, but in a few weeks it'll be the geraniums, coleus, and abutilon I wintered over, as well as purchased croton, New Guinea impatiens, and other interesting annuals. These I like to get from Hollandia, which has a fabulous selection, but also at Bethel Food, selected from their indoor plant area.

My potted cast of characters changes from year to year, but is a constant source of joy as I laze (all too infrequently, alas!) in my hammock.

Maintenance is easy. I keep an attractive watering can (French Blue, from Gardener's Supply) handy, and douse the pots as they need it. Most of what I grow doesn't require deadheading, although I do deer repel regularly. I try to vary the height and size of the pots, and the color and texture of the plants, so as to keep the display intriguing.

At the end of the season, the plants are either composted (most), cuttings taken for overwintering (coleus, abuitlon), or pulled up for cold storage in the garage (geranium). The depleted potting soil is dumped on garden beds to soften bulb-planting areas, and pots are again stored under the deck, to await Fair Spring.

Which, my friends, is now here!

Opening Day!

2009-03-16T05:04:00.007-04:00

Temperatures above 50 and a smattering of sunshine found me yesterday in the garden, proceeding with opening-the-season chores. I cut some branches of forsythia to force. (the hope is they'll adorn the tables at the next Bethel United Methodist Church Pasta Dinner, on the 28th. We'll see if Nature cooperates) Next, I dragged out some big bags of potting soil that I'd been stockpiling and started filling patio pots. The done compost is thawed, so first the pots were half filled with that black gold. The pansies will be available soon at the markets, and I want to be prepared. I'll put some Soil-Moist in before I plant, and the pots of pansies, with some deadheading and murdering of slugs, will last until July 1.

Next I carefully cut away the old leaves from my hellebores, which are about to burst into bloom. For those of you who follow my gardening column in the News-Times, look for more information this Friday on Lenten Roses.

Kyle then helped me to haul the 30-gallon garbage can of winter compost down to my new compost pile which Don so gleefully referenced in a comment a week ago. The accumulated frozen slurry is now at work, jumpstarting a new pile.

And, I raked some on the lawn. I like to give the grass a good massage with a wide rake in early spring. It removes the leaves, twigs and dead grasses, and provides me with an aerobic workout. Not all the lawn is dry enough to work, however, so I'll take it in stages. The rakings, of course, go into the compost.

All this took me about 2 hours. Then I replaced my tools, peeled off my muddy gloves and went inside to jot down my endeavors in this year's garden diary. Got to keep track!

Ornamental Grass Maintenance

2009-03-08T17:47:00.005-04:00

Looks like winter has released his frozen hold, at least temporarily. The past couple of days have seen temperatures in the 50's, so where does that find me? In the garden! I snow-shoveled the driveway edge scrapings into the compost pile, scooped up soggy leaves from the patio, and cut down some bedraggled perennials, including my ornamental grasses.

The pennesitum, chasmanthium, miscanthus, panicum, etc, serve the garden well for 3 seasons. But come early spring, they must be lopped off. Grab your hedge shears (not your pruners, you'll give yourself carpal tunnel!) and hack away. It helps if you hoist up a big handful, then cut. Put the leavings in the compost pile. It'll make the pile huge, but they will break down in a couple months. Be sure to rake the bed & lawn after your work session, so stray strands of grass don't blow all over the neighborhood.

Once clipped, your ornamental grasses will look denuded, and your yard will seem suddenly exposed. But rest assured, in a month, new green spears of grass will be peeking up from the stubbly mess you left behind.

And the cycle will start anew.......

Will It Ever End?

2009-03-04T14:21:00.002-05:00

This winter is interminable. As much as I rail about global warming, as much as I wished for a real old-fashioned winter, this has simply gone on too long. That 10" of snow last Sunday/Monday was the straw that broke the camel's back.

I'm itching to get out and inspect the garden. I want to prune, and plan, if not plant. I long to see some bare earth, and find the first flower. (a Johnny-jump-up, most likely) I want to haul the winter compost to the main pile by the mailbox garden, and clean out the supplies slopped in a corner of the garage. I'm eager to drag the patio pots out and clean sodden leaves off the deck and see what plant labels this winter has torn away. I want Kyle to get his motorcycle out of my garden shed so I can take inventory of pots, seed starting supplies and fertilizer. I want to be able to walk outside without bundling up like Nanook of the North.

I want Spring!

The Hawks are Back!

2009-02-22T17:13:00.003-05:00

Last Thursday my good friend Paul Young and I traveled to the Connecticut Flower Show in Hartford, where we were to spend the day volunteering at the Tri-State Hosta booth. The Flower Show is a good way for gardeners to hurry spring, viewing the April-scented landscapes built for the weekend, browsing the offerings of the vendors and mingling with others impatient for the feel of earth in their hands.

Though the Show was a pleasant interlude in a cold, interminable month, it was what we saw along the way that is most memorable. We hadn't been on the road a mile before I spied the first hawk. High in a tree on the side of the road, waiting for a rodent to venture forth and thus to become breakfast was a fine specimen of a bird. Strong-winged, sharp-eyed, beautifully plumed. A red-tailed hawk.

I began to count. By the time we reached Hartford an hour later, I had seen 10 hawks. All perched in trees high above the highway, scanning the grassy sides of the interstate, searching for a meal. On the way home I counted another 12.

They're back. The hawks have left their winter feeding grounds, and are arriving back home in Connecticut, here to mate, build nests, and raise their young. On clear days their piercing cry of "kee--kee--kee" can already be heard over the silence of the late winter woods.

The hawks are back. Sping can't be far behind.

Late-Winter Chores

2009-02-15T14:37:00.003-05:00

What a delight to be able to write "late winter"! Only 5 more weeks of an interminable season. We were teased with a couple of warm days this past week, and it made me itch to get out and garden. What's that you say? There's nothing to do this early?

Au contraire, my gardening friend. Start with yard and garden clean-up. If your ground isn't too soggy, make a circuit and pick up large sticks and twigs. Put them in the brush pile. (you DO have a brush pile, don't you? They provide essential shelter for a variety of amphibians, mammals and birds in our fragmented forest.)

It's also time to start removing the wadded-up leaves that have settled onto paths in your garden, or which have blown up against the house. Let the ones stay that are nestled in the shrubbery or among the perennials. Unless they're smothering the crowns of your plants, they can remain as free mulch. If they are hiding the perennials, wait a month until spring has indeed sprung, then remove.

As you gather up those soggy leaves, deposit them in the compost pile. They're full of nutrients and moisture and will help to super start the composting action in just a few weeks.

Stepping into the garden and doing just a few chores accomplishes several things. It gets you out in the fresh air; it lessens the workload which will be upon us next month; and even fifteen minutes of labor helps satisfy that winter-dormant urge to garden. And then there's the possibility of finding the first flower of the season, just as I did last week. There it was, a single johnny-jump-up, snugged in among the miscanthus and pennestium in the grass garden.

And a welcome sight she was!

Sweet Peas

2009-02-08T14:00:00.004-05:00

Once spring breaks, I think I'll again try growing sweet peas. This will be the third or fourth attempt. One year I dug the seeds in too early and they rotted in the cold earth. Another year I planted them too late and an early May heat wave cooked them. In the spring of '97 I planted my sweet peas in too much shade and they failed to thrive. There probably was another time, but now that I'm 60 (!) I forget things.

Still, the siren song of these old-fashioned, fragrant flowers calls to me. I can just see gathering armloads for the house, or giving them away in a nosegay. I can visualize the pastel colors and the cunning tendrils spilling over the white hobnail vase which was a gift from my mother. So when the new seed racks at Agway beckoned last week, it didn't take too much self-convincing to grab a couple of packs. I chose 'Floribunda', an early producer, and 'Perfume Delight', a variety known to be heat tolerant. I've got a sunny area picked out, next to the arbor and adjacent to a 'Ludvig von Spath' deep purple lilac. I figure the plants can grow either up the arbor or through Ludvig; their choice. I'll wait until the ground warms up to sow the seeds, probably around the latter part of March. And then I'll pray for success.

I grow many plants from seed each year, but I always insist on trying something new with the turn of the calendar. I'm not sure sweet peas really count, as I've tried them before, but hope surely springs eternal in the gardener, doesn't it?

Hope, and of course, folly.

The Garden Journal

2009-02-01T05:48:00.005-05:00

Tired of this endless winter? Longing to feel warm earth in your hands, hear that clear spring birdsong and smell those first flowers? Dream on; we're still a couple of months from all that.

But there is something you can do to hasten spring, at least in part. Start a garden journal. Pick a blank book of any type, and jot down your gardening thoughts on a daily or weekly basis. Tell your journal what you plan to grow come spring, and where you plan to make your purchases. Draw a diagram of your plot, make a list of your garden wishes. Commit to paper the name of that great gardening book you mean to read this year. Record the warming temperatures and the increasing day lengths.

It's all grist for the gardening mill. It will all help the endless frozen days to pass. I've kept garden journals for over 20 years, and it's endlessly fascinating to review their contents. In fact, that's my favorite pasttime when snow shuts down our community. I dig out my journals and open them at random, amazed to read how I dealt with the deer in '86, or the name of that (I thought!) lost-to-memory iris from the middle '90's, or how I longed for time to garden when my children were small and oh! so demanding.

My journals are kept on a shelf in the family room with my gardening books. I used to just pile them one on the other, but now I line them up by years, so as to have better access. I also record the year on their spine, and start a new journal each January, no matter how much space might be left in the old one.

Some of the lists I keep in my journals are: the Perennial Plants of the last 20 years; pronunciation guides to difficult names; list of items I need to purchase; list of tasks to complete this gardening year; and transplant ideas.

Keeping a garden journal. Another chapter in the gardening life.

Failure is No Excuse

2009-01-25T12:55:00.005-05:00

I should have known better than to start seeds in the dead of winter. Cosmos, no less, which are heat lovers. But I needed pictures of the seed-starting process to accompany a PowerPoint presentation I'm prepping for my lecture catalogue.

I really thought it'd work. My large bay window faces west, and over the years has successfully launched a thousand seedlings. (though never in midwinter, admittedly) I gathered my favorite apparatus for germinating and growing. They include:

a) commercial seed-starting mixture (to exclude pathogens)

b) a clean plastic 6-pack leftover from pansies purchased in a previous spring

c) watering tray (a jelly-roll pan), Saran wrap (to serve as mini-greenhouse cover until germination)

d) a package of seeds from last year, stored in a Ziploc bag in the refrigerator

I moistened the soil with warm water, and packed it gently into the plastic tray. I sowed the cosmos seeds and lightly covered them with dry mixture. I covered the entire tray with Saran wrap, and placed the setup on a floor heat register. As anticipated, germination took only 3 days. Then I placed the tray on the windowsill.

Big mistake.

As the days wore on, not only did the growing process abruptly slow; my little plants leaned and leaned toward the meager winter sun. They were starved for light, though I tried to tell myself that cosmos are leggy anyway. Not that leggy!

Then came one of our 5-degree nights. Even sheltered from the windowpane by honeycomb blinds, the temperature on the windowsill the next morning was 45 degrees. Half the seedlings had surrendured their souls to the inevitable. Prostrate they lay on the soil.

I gave up. I'll try again when the days are longer and the nights are warmer. The PowerPoint will have to wait on Mother Nature's largess.

Birds Get Thirsty, Too!

2009-01-18T14:56:00.004-05:00

Winter can be a time of drought for north country birds. Available sources of water may be frozen, but our avian friends' needs for drinking and bathing remain. In harsh winters like the one we're experiencing this year, it's a kindness, indeed, a survival mechanism to provide a source of clean, reliable water. And if you wish to have bird buddies help keep your garden clean of noxious insect pests once spring arrives, it's wise to help them out now.

It's not that difficult. I keep the plastic birdbath attached to my deck rail, adjacent to the hanging finch feeder filled 12 months a year. Come mid-November and the first freezing nights, I string an extension cord some 12' from my screened porch to the birdbath, and plug in a small heating element which sits in the water. I've learned to anchor it with a stone, as in the past it's shifted in a high wind, or been dislodged by an eager jay. Such implements use little electricity, shut off when temperatures are above freezing or the water reservoir runs dry, do not harm the birds, and are available comercially in several modes. They keep the water just above freezing. (Mine is a Nelson Blue Devil, purchased 3 years ago at Agway, for approximately $40.)

The water must be kept clean, of course. The water quickly fouls without a twice-a-week attention. I use a soft-bristled brush saved for the birdbaths, and simply dump out the old water, swish the brush around a couple of times, then rinse and refill with a small pitcher of water I've brought along. Takes all of 3 minutes.

Birds have been know to eat snow, break off icicles, and even catch snowflakes to obtain needed water. But Nature doesn't always furnish icicles or snow, and anyway, who would deny themselves the sight of a small junco, wren or finch dipping its beak into the fresh, clean water you've provided these winged beauties?

Hydrangeas I Have Loved

2009-01-11T06:14:00.004-05:00

All gardeners favor certain plants; our penchant changes over the years as we develop expertise and daring. I'm currently enthralled by hydrangeas, and have been for the past several years.

What's not to love? These beauties offer 3-season color, lasting blossoms, structure in the garden, a range of hues from pure white and ivory to pink to lavendar, to blue, red-purple and on through to green. They're relatively deer-resistant, and increasingly hardy here in Zone 5. I plant at least one each year, and my collection has flourished to now include approximately ten different types. I'm already scouting the catalogues for my '09 baby. (maybe climbing hydrangea, H. petiolaris?

One of the varieties I put in last year was 'Lady in Red'. I'd seen her mentioned in several publications, and finally spied a well-grown specimen when Muriel and I visited the New York Botanical Garden last June. Oh my! The serrated leaves, flushed with red, the quantity of pink- shading to-antique-rose blooms, the full, old-fashioned arch of the branches....I knew I had to own one. Luckily, my local Agway had several. One landed in the bed of my truck and was soon at home in Back Yard Garden #1 (all my gardens have names), tucked in nicely between miscanthus 'Morning Light' and hosta 'Sagae'.

What other hydrangeas do I grow, and why? My all-time favorite is 'Preziosa', (see above, snugged in behind the perovskia and hydrangea 'Nikko Blue'). 'Preziosa' is an old variety, difficult to find in these parts. (though White Flower Farm offers it this year---good thinking!) It's a loosely rounded shrub, bearing a quantity of pink/rose/green/beige blooms from July to October. Its flowers dry beautifully. I also enjoy 'Glowing Embers', a deep burgandy. And 'Nikko Blue', which I find not too different in appearance from 'Endless Summer'. (Neither of the preceding two varieties dry well). 'Blushing Bride' is a petite wonder at the front edge of the White Pine Garden. I'm in awe of hydrangea paniculata 'Pinky Winky'. The colors! The size! And my blue lacecap, 'Bluebird', with a bit of assistance, blooms a deep blue each summer, though not for as long as the mopheads.

New to me is 'Let's Dance Starlight', a compact, deep-pink lacecap, and 'Limelight' which promises to bloom an intriguing yellow-green.

My hydrangeas have seldom been deer-nibbled, but I do apply repellent once a month, 12 months a year. I grow my garden in rich, compost-laden soil, and thus do not fertilize much, except for an occasional dusting of Milorganite, which is broadcast as part of my defeat-the-deer arsenal.

The whole issue of changing color on hydrangeas is best taken up in a future post, and will be.

It may be time for you to get back in touch with a shrub from grandmother's garden. Try hydrangea; you won't be sorry.

The Last Bouquet of Autumn

2009-01-05T17:33:00.007-05:00

The ground is frozen a good six inches deep by now, the first week in January. There are no flowers to be had in my gardens, not even a hardy Johnny-jump-up braving the frosty ground under the crabapples. There's no breath of spring evident, and therefore no bounty from Mother Earth's cloak to brighten my kitchen table.

But there is the last bouquet of autumn, picked in October when the garden was vibrant with late season color. The last bouquet, gathered every year as the autumn chores wind down, warms my heart as I await March, and the warmth of spring.

Hydrangea 'Glowing Embers' associates nicely with spiky astilbe 'Visions' fronds. Seed heads of sea oat grass dangle over the vase. A button of Japanese anemone rises from the center of the arrangement. Sedum 'Autumn Joy', of course. A frond of miscanthus. Air-dried 'Knockout' rose blossoms. All these, and more, adorn my winter vases each year. Their presence reminds me of the satisfaction derived from the gardening year gone by. The dried flowers provide a spark of interest in the days that are too short; the nights that are too cold. In their papery texture I sense the soil that grew them . The last bouquet of autumn sustains me, gives me the hope of a new year.

Spring will come again. The last bouquet of autumn proves it.

Garden Catalogues

2009-01-03T05:26:00.006-05:00

At 2:30 yesterday afternoon I dropped my busy schedule of de-Christmasing the house, fixed a mug of cocoa, and settled into my favorite armchair with a pack of sticky notes and a grateful sigh.

The White Flower Farm spring catalogue http://www.whiteflowerfarm.com/ had arrived.

Now, I do find WFF a bit overpriced, but their offerings are varied, the prose breezy, and the pictures, delectable. And they're from my corner of the world, just a bit north of here, in Litchfield, CT. My modus operandi with each of my favorite catalogues is to savor every page, circling plants such as hibiscus 'Sugar Tip' and buddleia 'Lo and Behold' that I planted last year and need to know more about. I note that such old favorites as hydrangea 'Preziosa' are back. I scan the annuals, and how they're grouped in pots. I chuckle at how expensive self sowers such as cleome and verbena bonariensis are this year. I jot musings on wished-for plants in my garden journal. The sticky notes mark catalogue pages to which I plan to return, and I've learned to write on the stickies what it is that's caught my attention. After half an hour or so the catalogue, now somewhat resembling a porcupine, goes on the shelf with other "keepers". This untidy bundle includes Bluestone Perennials http://www.bluestoneperennials.com/ , known for their impressive yet inexpensive selection of perennials; and of course, Park Seed, http://www.parkseed.com/ , and Burpee http://www.burpee.com/ from whom I order many of the seed packets I use each year. ( This year I'm contemplating 'Heavenly Blue' morning glories, cardinal climber, and snapdragon 'Rocket'.)

Yes, the garden catalogues allow us to enter a different world on these deep winter days. A world where the ground is not frozen, where the deer turn up their snouts at our yard, and and where gardening dreams come true.

Bring 'em on!

The Garden Birds

2009-01-02T06:00:00.007-05:00

We're off to a genuine winter here in southwestern CT; three significant snowfalls in two weeks brings to mind winters of years gone by, before global warming. The nights are cold, the daytime sun glints off the snow, and the birds are active at the feeders.

It's part of a gardener's imperative to care for their winged visitors. There are several ways we can do this:

Feeders are important, of course. I have two----a finch feeder on my back deck, kept full of a mixture of niger seed and sunflower chips. This one is generally busy with arguing juncos, olive-drab goldfinches and the occasional downy woodpecker. Attached to the deck rail, close to the hanging feeder, is a birdbath complete with an electric de-icer. I keep it filled and cleaned for the birds to drink. And they do. I've never seen them bathe in it, but they sure do drink the water. My best friend, Muriel, on the other hand.....she also keeps a bird bath going in her yard, and darn if she doesn't get bathing birds! Even in the dead of winter.

In the front yard I have an hopper-type feeder, with a perch that dumps off squirrels, and a metal baffle to further discourage them. This feeder is kept full of a mixture of cracked corn, hulled (to keep litter to a minimum) sunflower seed, peanut chips, dried fruit, and whatever else happens to be in the mix I purchase that week. (No millet) Attached to the feeder is a suet cake.

To this feeder & suet come an array of birds and wildlife. It sits directly outside my library window, so as I'm reading or writing I can glance out and see the action. We get cardinals; three different kinds of woodpeckers (red-bellied, downy, hairy); chickadees, blue jays, juncos, wrens, and many more.

Seed spills from the hopper, of course, and this ground bounty feeds the gray squirrels, occasional visiting pheasants, and assorted other wildlife.

What else can a gardener do to sustain the birds? Grow some berrying shrubs, viburnum for instance. Grow crabapples. Leave a few berry-producing wildlings such as pokeweed in the fringes of your yard. (Blubirds love 'em!) When you clean up your garden in the autumn, leave standing such perennials as rudbeckia to provide seeds and winter structure.

Birds add movement, color, sound, and a naturalness to the gardener's attempts to harness nature. They are a integral part of Nature's Design and, as we humans destroy their habitat, it's incumbent upon gardeners as stewards of the earth to do what we can to mitigate the damage.

Winter Composting

2009-01-01T05:23:00.004-05:00

The back porch thermometer read a no-nonsense 6 degrees this morning as I trekked the few steps out to my winter compost container on the deck. Here in Connecticut, composting in the usual manner is impossible from early December 'til early March, as the ground is determinedly frozen.

But that's no reason to relinquish the pleasures of composting. After years of trying various methods of cold-weather recycling of my organic leftovers, here's what I've struck upon as the most successful.

Grab a 30-gallon plastic garbage can, drill holes in it all along the sides and the bottom. (very satisfying, wielding that drill!) Place the can on a deck, an unheated porch, or anywhere convenient for you and where marauding night critters aren't going to cause too much trouble. Commence composting.

That's all there is to it. Of course, you want to follow the basic rules, such as layering, not using bones or meat, etc. Two 30-gallon containers suffice for my household of two for the winter months, and I compost almost everything.......paper towels, soft-walled cardboard cartons, pet hair, coffee grounds, as well as the usual array of stale toast and soggy cereal.

An added benefit of winter composting is that after repeated freeze and thaw cycles, by spring the contents of the makeshift bin has turned into a rich slurry. One caveat-----the can will be heavy as you haul it to the regular compost pile.

But the lumpy, fertile mixture will jump start your warm weather composting; you'll have saved your winter organic garbage from the landfill, and you got lungfuls of brisk winter air most mornings.

What can be be better than that?

Garden Seasons ~ The Winter Garden

2008-12-31T13:55:00.018-05:00

A snowy day in my New England garden. We've had some 5" of snow so far today, blown along by a blustery wind out of the northwest. The garden is at rest, secure below a soft layer of "poor man's fertilizer", aka snow.

Notice the miscanthus 'Variegata' in the foreground. In its winter plumage, it will not be cut down until March warms both the garden and the gardener. As it stands, it provides not only winter interest, but a protected place for birds to rest out of the wind.

Behind the grasses can be glimpsed the outlines of the pond, with its wooden bench standing sentinel. The pond is still now, with only a small electric deicer to keep an 8" circle of surface ice free. Thus, the goldfish and amphibians below the frozen surface can "breathe" until the ice goes out sometime in early March.

Just beyond the pond, the dwarf Alberta spruce stands dusted with snow, and provides green contrast to the brown and white of the garden. The European white birch are difficult to keep healthy. They really prefer more northern climes, and here in southern New England require preventative measures to keep birch leaf miner and borers at bay. I believe in putting the right plant in the right place, and so did not plant the birches, but rather inherited them when we bought our house 16 years ago. Nonetheless, I recognize the beauty their peeling bark and statuesque presence lend to the front garden.

January is time for dreaming and planning next season's garden. It's a time to start a new garden diary, to order seeds and to make lists of "to-do's".

Follow along with me this year as we commence working with Nature in her never-ending cycle.