(Sorry I’m a bit late getting this column out; I accidently scarfed down the dog’s antihistamine pill at bedtime when I was taking my vitamins, and slept for three hours longer than usual
Ah, well...
Here are some garden offerings and observations unclouded by fog, as I wrote the column yesterday afternoon.)
***
Nerdy gardener-thoughts litter my brain as I work in the garden.
Once I had a security light out there, but discovered that plants don’t like being illuminated 24/7, and bloom poorly. The word “Daisy” used to be “day’s eye,” so named because the pink and white English daisy closes at night, and opens at sunrise. I love these flowers (which litter the lawn of my former English home). Artificial night light interfered with this rhythm. I eliminated the light, and all my plants were-are much happier.
I have four fountains going all day, and very quickly they accumulate vegetative growth that clings to the bottom and sides of their water basins. Over the years I tried all the potions advertised- often at a hefty price- to inhibit this, but not one worked. But I had to. Emptying just the big pool every month, then scrubbing it out, took an enormous amount of time and effort. And, after that miserable task it needed filling again- hundreds of gallons are necessary. Then one day, desperate, I tried adding a few cups of ordinary Spartan cloudy bleach to the pool. Just a few minutes later the problem vanished. Bliss! Best of all, every fountain stayed clean for a long time and the cost was nearly zero. (Bonus: birds don’t light and poop in it either.) I renew this treatment when necessary. (A few weeks pass between applications. Just a thimbleful has kept my three littler ones sparkling.)
Water changes are unnecessary.
One other thing with large fountains: chipmunks fall in and drown. But they don’t give up and die until they’re exhausted from swimming. I found a drowned one a while back, and was horrified. The pool’s smooth sides had made escape impossible.
Now there’s an almost invisible stiff wire ladder (made from a bit of screen) in there; as they swim frantically by they see it and climb out, wiser, and alive to tell about it.
I collect mowed grass and place into sturdy black garbage bags, add a shovel of earth, a bit of water, and place the tied-off bags in a sunny area away from view, to let Mama Nature cook them for a season in her usual slow, deliberate way. I kick the bags into different positions occasionally to rotate the ingredients. By the next spring l have rich black earth for my grateful garden.
It was exasperating to find that slugs had eaten my lamium, and every little hosta. But, curiously, not my giants. I found out that they have a tough time sinking their teeth into huge leaves. Smaller varieties can be made safe by scattering a few Slug-go pellets around them. Slugs rush to eat the pellets, then dissolve, except for their teeth. I probably have thousands of teeny dentures lying about. (A slug has around 100 teeth. When it dies, how long do they litter the dirt? I think about things like this.)
To keep my pansies and Johnny-jump-ups blooming vigorously all summer I deadhead every morning. It only takes a minute to pinch off the sagging flower and each worn out stem, and the reward is huge, as long as they’re watered and settled into decent soil in the first place.
Then I shake a cup of bloodmeal (obtained at any garden center) around pansies and other plants like lilies, that rabbits love to munch. They’ll avoid the area. (Bloodmeal, dried to a fine talcum- like powder, is all but invisible when applied around plants. There is no smell.)
This spring the leaves on my ornamental trees and bushes looked yellow and sickly, exhibiting green veins. I applied liquid iron- obtained at any garden store- with a hose-end sprayer. Adding iron made a dramatic difference. Leaves- and even grass- greened up quickly. Such a vital mineral! (I remember how sailors used to die of scurvy at sea simply for want of an orange, or lemon for the vitamin C. This tree scourge was just as easily vanquished. Knowledge is power.)
Roses and rhododendrons are acid lovers. So a morning java jolt of used coffee grounds added to the soil underneath perks them up.
If you break stems arranging flowers, try adding a clear drinking straw to what’s left: the flower can be salvaged.
Plants with glossy leaves have fewer diseases because the waxy coating is tough to penetrate. Mildew slides off, as it can’t get a grip. I recreate this condition with a product called Wilt-Pruf, an anti-desiccant. I spray any plant susceptible to mildew, like roses. It seals in moisture, too, always a good thing. (In early winter I coat my evergreens, rhodos, azaleas, and other plants that have been deeply watered through the fall. If I’m lucky, they’ll resist drying out from icy winds for about three months-through February or March, when winter is less of a threat.)
One ladybug eats 5400 aphids during her lifetime. Encourage their visits. (Who was the dedicated scientist who patiently kept count?)
The Guinness Book of World Records declares that one single winter rye plant makes 387 miles of roots in 1.83 feet of soil. This mind-boggling fact is helpful in understanding why I redig my beds every few years. Shockingly vigorous things are happening under ground.
The scope of these dirt-y ponders keeps this gardener entertained…
Ah, well...
Here are some garden offerings and observations unclouded by fog, as I wrote the column yesterday afternoon.)
***
Nerdy gardener-thoughts litter my brain as I work in the garden.
Once I had a security light out there, but discovered that plants don’t like being illuminated 24/7, and bloom poorly. The word “Daisy” used to be “day’s eye,” so named because the pink and white English daisy closes at night, and opens at sunrise. I love these flowers (which litter the lawn of my former English home). Artificial night light interfered with this rhythm. I eliminated the light, and all my plants were-are much happier.
I have four fountains going all day, and very quickly they accumulate vegetative growth that clings to the bottom and sides of their water basins. Over the years I tried all the potions advertised- often at a hefty price- to inhibit this, but not one worked. But I had to. Emptying just the big pool every month, then scrubbing it out, took an enormous amount of time and effort. And, after that miserable task it needed filling again- hundreds of gallons are necessary. Then one day, desperate, I tried adding a few cups of ordinary Spartan cloudy bleach to the pool. Just a few minutes later the problem vanished. Bliss! Best of all, every fountain stayed clean for a long time and the cost was nearly zero. (Bonus: birds don’t light and poop in it either.) I renew this treatment when necessary. (A few weeks pass between applications. Just a thimbleful has kept my three littler ones sparkling.)
Water changes are unnecessary.
One other thing with large fountains: chipmunks fall in and drown. But they don’t give up and die until they’re exhausted from swimming. I found a drowned one a while back, and was horrified. The pool’s smooth sides had made escape impossible.
Now there’s an almost invisible stiff wire ladder (made from a bit of screen) in there; as they swim frantically by they see it and climb out, wiser, and alive to tell about it.
I collect mowed grass and place into sturdy black garbage bags, add a shovel of earth, a bit of water, and place the tied-off bags in a sunny area away from view, to let Mama Nature cook them for a season in her usual slow, deliberate way. I kick the bags into different positions occasionally to rotate the ingredients. By the next spring l have rich black earth for my grateful garden.
It was exasperating to find that slugs had eaten my lamium, and every little hosta. But, curiously, not my giants. I found out that they have a tough time sinking their teeth into huge leaves. Smaller varieties can be made safe by scattering a few Slug-go pellets around them. Slugs rush to eat the pellets, then dissolve, except for their teeth. I probably have thousands of teeny dentures lying about. (A slug has around 100 teeth. When it dies, how long do they litter the dirt? I think about things like this.)
To keep my pansies and Johnny-jump-ups blooming vigorously all summer I deadhead every morning. It only takes a minute to pinch off the sagging flower and each worn out stem, and the reward is huge, as long as they’re watered and settled into decent soil in the first place.
Then I shake a cup of bloodmeal (obtained at any garden center) around pansies and other plants like lilies, that rabbits love to munch. They’ll avoid the area. (Bloodmeal, dried to a fine talcum- like powder, is all but invisible when applied around plants. There is no smell.)
This spring the leaves on my ornamental trees and bushes looked yellow and sickly, exhibiting green veins. I applied liquid iron- obtained at any garden store- with a hose-end sprayer. Adding iron made a dramatic difference. Leaves- and even grass- greened up quickly. Such a vital mineral! (I remember how sailors used to die of scurvy at sea simply for want of an orange, or lemon for the vitamin C. This tree scourge was just as easily vanquished. Knowledge is power.)
Roses and rhododendrons are acid lovers. So a morning java jolt of used coffee grounds added to the soil underneath perks them up.
If you break stems arranging flowers, try adding a clear drinking straw to what’s left: the flower can be salvaged.
Plants with glossy leaves have fewer diseases because the waxy coating is tough to penetrate. Mildew slides off, as it can’t get a grip. I recreate this condition with a product called Wilt-Pruf, an anti-desiccant. I spray any plant susceptible to mildew, like roses. It seals in moisture, too, always a good thing. (In early winter I coat my evergreens, rhodos, azaleas, and other plants that have been deeply watered through the fall. If I’m lucky, they’ll resist drying out from icy winds for about three months-through February or March, when winter is less of a threat.)
One ladybug eats 5400 aphids during her lifetime. Encourage their visits. (Who was the dedicated scientist who patiently kept count?)
The Guinness Book of World Records declares that one single winter rye plant makes 387 miles of roots in 1.83 feet of soil. This mind-boggling fact is helpful in understanding why I redig my beds every few years. Shockingly vigorous things are happening under ground.
The scope of these dirt-y ponders keeps this gardener entertained…