Archive for June, 2005
If you marked some columbines for seed-saving, check the pods for the yellowish color that shows they’re almost ripe. Put a paper bag over them and gently bend the stalks near the base, so the bag is – more or less – right side up. Close the bag with a clothespin. Cut off the stalks when the pods turn brown and start to split and spill seeds. (That’s the reason for the bag routine). Let them dry another few days, then sow them where you want them to grow, pressing them lightly into the soil. Don’t cover; they need light to germinate.
If the Japanese beetles haven’t hit you yet, this should be big rose bouquet time. Don’t forget to cut on an outward facing slant, right above a five-part leaf.
Speaking of Japanese beetles; sigh, I can barely stand to do it. But I’ve had some success fighting them with neem, a botanical insecticide and fungicide – good against a whole range of pests – derived from an Asian tree. It comes as an extract, in two forms. One is a combo of neem and insecticidal soap, which provides quicker knockdown for some soft-bodied insects. The other is just plain neem. The plain stuff discourages insects before killing them and seldom provides that agreeable “DEATH! Right Now!”sensation one often longs for, but it is safer for more plants than the kind with the soap mixed in, so that’s the kind I use.
No point to complain about hot, so instead I’ll confess that once again I have failed to candy the green sweet cicely seedpods. They’re still tasty, like fennel seeds, but much bigger and sweeter. And they’re still tender enough to stir into the fish stew. But there’s only about 3 days a year when they’re brand new, juicy as well as crunchy – THIS year, there were probably only 2 days, or maybe 2 minutes, – and once again I missed it.
No use crying over spilled cicely when there is so much tying up to do. Even without as much rain as would be good, the heat has forced a lot of explosive growth, perfect for falling down in a thunderstorm. Connecticut Yankee delphiniums, for instance, which in spite of their reputation for sturdiness are just as flop-prone as Pacific Giants. Mine grow in a group of 5, so I can minimize the staked-up-tight look by using slender stakes inside the borders and a cats cradle of supportive string, but…well, just plain old but. Anyone who struggles with delphiniums knows what I’m talking about , and everyone else should grow larkspur instead and not get into this mess.
If you haven’t done it yet, be sure to get out there and thin overgrown clumps of perennials: phlox, coreopsis, monarda and the like, in order to increase air circulation and cut down on the mildew. Remove from a third to a bit over half of the stems, cutting them off at ground level. While you’re in manicure mode, this is also the time to cut back top growth on Shasta daisies, late asters and chrysanthemums, in order to encourage branching. Also don’t forget to keep pinching the basil.
If you’re like me, you’re walking through the garden immersed in a cloud of obligation: oughta weed, oughta prune, oughta mulch, oughta finish planting this ton of stuff that is not planted yet. All true. Nevertheless. This is also the time to garden tour. There is always something to be learned, almost always something to enjoy in other people’s gardens, and if you choose them through the Garden Conservancy’s Open Days Directory, it’s pretty hard to go wrong. The Northeast edition lists dozens of gardens in our area or close enough to be easy day trips. Available wherever good books are sold, or through the conservancy itself: www.gardenconservancy.org.
A little rain is all it takes and bingo – time for the festival of weeds. At our house, it’s endless pulling of creeping Charlie and ladies bedstraw, the weed from hell. On the good side, delicious lambs quarters, briefly steamed, then slowly sautaéed in olive oil with garlic. Mostly we just squeeze lemon on at the end, but sometimes Bill adds his special garnish: chopped oil-cured olives, dried tomatoes, and toasted pine nuts, with a judicious sprinkling of hot pepper flakes.
The wild phlox continues to bloom . pink. purple . white. purple… in the flowerbeds and borders, peeking through the hedges, pushing through cracks in the asphalt drive . years and years ago I invested a lot fantasy time in a small, quite expensive packet of something called hesperis, or Dame’s Rocket, described in the catalog as an old fashioned English cottage garden plant with highly scented flowers. Protected the baby plants from caterpillars, watered them, fed them, weeded around them. Waited for the second year, on account of they are biennials. When they finally bloomed – oh well, I knew it was beautiful all along.
The little bit of rain we’ve had is no-way enough for anything that has been newly planted, especially given the heat ; be sure to water more than you think you need to. Remember to stagger your bush bean plantings, so you don’t get a humongous crop , followed by beanlessness. If you are feeding 4 people or fewer, plant a double 30 inch row now, then the same at the end of June and one more in mid-July. If you plant a lot of tomatoes and stick the labels in the ground, you know how hard it is to find out what’s what after the plants get big. Avoid the problem by writing with a sharpie on a piece of flat green gardener’s tape. Tie the tape around the tomato stake. Stem-branching annuals like cosmos, marigolds, bedding dahlias – and basil all benefit from being pinched back, so the plants will make more branches. It takes fortitude to remove the first flowers, but as a wise gardening friend once remarked: somebody has to be the grownup around here. Do it now and you’ll be glad later.
Now that the narcissi are done and the honeysuckle’s over, the back edge of the property is looking – almost – like someone designed it, someone who is fond of white ( no names, please) : Russian olive and white violets are still going strong; curved hedge of old fashioned bridal wreath is full out. Mock oranges are opening and behind it all there’s a frieze of pure white wild cherry blossoms, thanks to our neighbors’ unkempt swamp.
Memorial day has come and gone, but peony-wise, not much is happening : too dry and too cold for too long. Buds are looking promising, though, and in the meantime FINALLY! – seems like it took forever – we have rhubarb…There’s a reason this stuff is called pie plant, but it’s also a great sauce for lamb and duck and rich fish like shad and mackerel; just make the same stewed rhubarb you’d make to eat for breakfast, except don’t put as much sugar in it and put in a TINY pinch of clove and not-so-tiny pinch of salt.
Those Columbines: Select columbines for spreading by marking the prettiest ones, so you – or the friend you ask for the favor – will remember to let them go to seed. (Just wrap a twist tie around the stem; if you go for a discreet stake at the base, you’re likely to miss it when cleaning up.) They cross freely, so there will be some surprises, but if you start with a preferred color it improves your odds. I’ll put a reminder in when it’s time for seed-harvesting.
Don’t forget to prune the lilacs as soon as they finish: there isn’t much of a window before next year’s flowers start forming. Make sure your loppers are well-sharpened, then get rid of weak growth and bring tall, spindly trunks down to strong young branches. Removing spent blossoms saves energy the plant would otherwise spend making seeds, so it’s worth it when they are still small, but after that it doesn’t do much except help things look tidy.
The same is probably true of rhubarb. Everyone I know, including me, pulls out flowering rhubarb stalks while they are still in bud, in order to prolong the season… and it’s true, the stems DO get stringy when the plant blooms. I’ve been doing this long enough to know that’s mostly coincidence; time and temperature are the main triggers for stringy rhubarb stalks. But what the heck – it only takes a minute ; you feel like you’re doing something useful; and the big stems make gorgeous bouquets for the porch ( bring them into the house at your peril; every one of those tiny flowers drops off when it dies.)
There are years when April showers bring May rain, mist and clouds and it seems the sun will never shine again. Think what a good year it’ll be for mushrooms and make lemonade out of the flat, even light.
Take pictures – it’s great for photography – and while you’re at it, take a close look at the leaves in the perennial garden. Overcast weather brings out contrasts: between shades of green, rough and smooth, simple and complex. Note deficiencies.If necessary, make some up, so you have an excuse to go shopping …
can’t beat it when being outdoors is unpleasant: no crowds, and the nurseries are very glad to see you. It’s definitiely the time to buy if you need spring flowering shrubs … you can still see what the flowers look like, but they don’t seduce you into ignoring more important things like basic branch structure.
Got slugs? Tired of tried and true organic controls like handpicking at night, putting out beer for them to drown in , messing around with copper foil and diatomaceous earth? The easiest alternative is Sluggo, or Escar–Go , or any other brand of slug death based on iron phosphate. It doesn’t hurt anything but slugs and snails and it’s as easy to apply as the common slug poisons – metaldehyde and methiocarb – which are REALLY poisonous, big time, to just about everything that moves.
Plain old coffee is looking promising, too. Caffeine both repels and kills slugs and snails, but researchers don’t yet know how much is too much; so be cautious if you decide to experiment.
Once the weather turns warm in earnest, it’s so wonderful to be outdoors – and there’s so much to do in the garden – it’s easy to neglect the greenery that got you through the winter. Not fair. Tropical plants long for fresh air too, they just need to be introduced to it gradually. Set them outside in shade for a few more hours each day until the weather is warm and they can take partial sun. Protect them from wind, which can do as much damage as frost. Repot if they are overcrowded; cut back lanky stems; give the leaves a gentle shower. Let them know you care for a couple of weeks now and then you can totally neglect them until the end of the summer.
It’s everythingallatonceyesterday time: Plant lilies of the valley bought at church sale, trying not to be envious of neighbor’s huge, established yard full of same. Prune roses, weed, smell viburnum. Mow grass, repair fence, map bulbs in the viburnum bed, inhaling deeply. Put out more suet so poor little woodpeckers have a chance against the everlasting grackles. Wish for rain. Wander over toward the viburnum; two or three more days and that’ll be it until next year.
Also, it’s high time to get the parsley in. Younger is better when it comes to seedlings – old ones often bolt – and as far as seeds are concerned, the old saying has it right: parsley must go to the devil and back 7 times before it comes up.
While waiting, harvest asparagus, always cutting below ground level so there are no stubs left to feed asparagus beetles. Leave a heavy stainless steel knife in the garden, so you don’t dull your good kitchen knives against small stones in the soil. And if you don’t HAVE an asparagus patch – drop all other tasks and get going! Like peonies and rhubarb, asparagus takes a few years to pay off , but once it takes hold it needs little care – and it keeps on giving for decades. Beautiful, too, so you can use it as an ornamental if you’re short on garden space.
It’s everythingallatonceyesterday time: Plant lilies of the valley bought at church sale, trying not to be envious of neighbor’s huge, established yard full of same. Prune roses, weed, smell viburnum. Mow grass, repair fence, map bulbs in the viburnum bed, inhaling deeply. Put out more suet so poor little woodpeckers have a chance against the everlasting grackles. Wish for rain. Wander over toward the viburnum; two or three more days and that’ll be it until next year.
Also, it’s high time to get the parsley in. Younger is better when it comes to seedlings – old ones often bolt – and as far as seeds are concerned, the old saying has it right: parsley must go to the devil and back 7 times before it comes up.
While waiting, harvest asparagus, always cutting below ground level so there are no stubs left to feed asparagus beetles. Leave a heavy stainless steel knife in the garden, so you don’t dull your good kitchen knives against small stones in the soil. And if you don’t HAVE an asparagus patch – drop all other tasks and get going! Like peonies and rhubarb, asparagus takes a few years to pay off , but once it takes hold it needs little care – and it keeps on giving for decades. Beautiful, too, so you can use it as an ornamental if you’re short on garden space.
