The Garden Faerie

Century plant blooms at Matthaei

2012-12-21T13:19:00.000-05:00

One of the century plants at Matthaei Botanical Gardens is blooming. I've seen this Agave pedunculifera many times in Matthaei's conservatory, but never before in bloom.

It starts blooming from the base of the flower to the top.

Some flowers were wide open (the stamens are so cool!)...

While others were still buds.

And many were in fun stages in between.

The blooming up the stalk goes very quickly. It moved a few inches in under 24 hours.

It's a very impressive flower, but I also love the foliage.

The plant doesn't really require 100 years to bloom, but a good, long time. The jury was out on how exactly how long--I was told 15, 25, and 45 years--but there was consensus that this plant came to Matthaei as a pup from the parent plant originally donated to Matthaei at the old location on Iroquois.

After an agave blooms (similar to yucca), it dies. It send up a new plant, the pup, which eventually produces a stalk.

The agave nectar (see the droplet?) is sweet (I tried it. It is.) and apparently sold as an alternative to sugar as it doesn't spike blood sugar levels.

I was glad to be able to see it bloom. If you're in the area, swing by. The blooms should hold out for while.

Solar eclipse

2012-05-20T23:33:00.003-04:00

Being friends with an astronomy professor comes in super handy when there's an eclipse! We drove about five miles south of Ann Arbor to get a clear view of the horizon. We ended up on Platt Road outside the Toyota complex, with another set of astro geeks across the road. When the security guard drove by to figure out what we were doing, and Pete enthusiastically and with some amount of detail explained the finer points of the eclipse, I felt like I was on The Big Bang Theory (ooh, I wanna be Amy Farrah Fowler!).

He has a telescope (8 inches, baby!), and made filters (of mylar model rocket parachute material) to make the sun viewable, as opposed to looking like a huge piercing bright light.

Check out the detail! The little brown marks are sun spots. It's all the telescope; I just put my trusty Canon PowerShot lens up to the telescope lens! The ragged edge is due to the earth's atmosphere. It was moving like waves, which was really cool.

The eclipse started for us in Michigan at 8:21 p.m., as the sun began to set.

The moon is passing between the earth and the sun, blocking our view of the sun.

Or, an invisible Cookie Monster is taking a bite.

It started getting cloudy.

And cloudier...

and cloudier still as the sun was setting.

Finally the clouds obscured the view entirely.

It was still a cool sunset, though.

Wikipedia has an animation showing how it would have looked if we had been able to see the entire eclipse, without clouds and in an earlier time zone with enough time before sunset. In the animation, the eclipse starts at the opposite end of the sun as my photos show--that's because the telescope flips the image.

Picture perfect succulents

2012-04-29T19:49:00.001-04:00

I love the container displays at Taylor Conservatory. They're creative and whimsical combinations of annuals, perennials, bulbs, or whatever is in season.

I loved the use of branches of red-twig dogwood and Harry Lauder's walking stick in these pots and went to investigate more closely....

Then I spied... Do you see them on the ground in the background?... Two miniature living walls or vertical gardens, framed like art! I was giddy with excitement (so giddy I kind of blew the spoiler by showing you one right off!).

Other vertical gardens I've seen have been equally gorgeous but quite large, usually encompassing an entire wall. These smaller gardens seemed less intimidating and actually possible to make oneself!

I've often seen old frames at yard sales, or you could buy and stain molding. (Or actually buy frames!) The backs the the frames are rectangular wood boxes, like a mini raised bed, made of four pieces of 1" x 4" wood (or thereabouts). I didn't measure the frames, but I'm guessing 2 ft. x 3 ft. You could make any size you want.

The back of the box has chicken wire stapled in place, with a layer of moss laid on top before the soil was added. If you don't have moss, you could also use coco fiber, landscape fabric, or plywood with holes drilled in for drainage.

Chatting with volunteers, I learned the box is filled with a well-draining soil mix, and topped with chicken wire. You can't see it in the finished product, but it holds the succulents and moss in place when the frame is set upright.

Not all of the succulents in these picture frames are hardy in Michigan, and they are kept indoors overnight this time of year.

By the way, the framed succulents complement this reproduction of Monet's Gladioli on display through June 30 at Taylor Conservatory. It's one of many locations in metro Detroit showcasing weatherproof reproductions of art in the Detroit Institute of Arts collection, as part of the Inside|Out exhibit. Check it out!
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From pawpaws to urban farming, with love

2012-02-16T13:44:00.000-05:00

Why Not?

A simple question gives birth to an ambitious urban farm project

This article was originally published in the Project Grow Community Gardens newsletter and is reprinted here with permission.

Photo from Wikipedia Commons

Have you ever heard of a pawpaw? Hamtramck, Michigan, resident Michael Davis hadn't until this past September. From the first moment he tasted the rich blend of mango, banana, citrus, and melon flavors of the pawpaw, Davis was hooked.

A visit to Davis' home clearly shows his passion for growing things in an environmentally responsible way — an approach he calls "ghetto gardening." The hardscaping is comprised of stacked, reclaimed concrete chunks, former red sandstone, Detroit curb stones, and plant life. He rescued plants he found on empty lots while on bike rides around the city. Now, irises, daylilies, pachysandra, lilacs, and hostas all find their home on his land. Despite the name, it all comes together to create something far from "ghetto."

Over the years, Davis has watched his little corner of Hamtramck change. The number of vacant houses on the street increased and the police made their fair share of visits down the one-block deadend street. But his passion for the quirky little city has kept him from simply walking away. With the taste of pawpaw fresh in his mind, it clicked. Why not?

Davis — along with Julie Swartz, Robert Swartz, Evan Major, Stephen Gach, and a growing number of supporters — are bringing a reduce, reuse, and revival approach to six long-vacant, city-owned lots with the pawpaw playing a major role.

And so Hamtown Farms was born. It will one day grow more than 150 pawpaw, pear, and hazelnut trees. When complete, it will also have more than 50 raised community gardening beds for residents to grow seasonal vegetables. In addition, the project will include a large open public space that will accommodate a wide variety of community events including a Harvest Festival in mid-October.

Gathering wild pawpaw seeds that will produce hardy root
stock. Photo by Julie Swartz.

Over the past few months, the group has been hard at work researching pawpaws – drawing from the work of Neal Peterson of Peterson Pawpaws, Dr. Ron Powell of the Ohio Pawpaw Growers Association, and Dr. Kirk Pomper of the Kentucky State University Pawpaw Research Program. Their study has found the right mix of varieties creates the best fruit yield, hardiness, fruits per tree, ripening time, and more.

A recent trip to a nearby wild pawpaw thicket netted the group more than 500 seeds that are currently stratifying in a refrigerator. Chip bud grafting of known varieties including 'Overleese' and' Sunflower' to 2-year-old rootstock from these wild collected seeds will go a long way in ensuring hardiness. The group may have also stumbled upon a three-seeded variety, though it will be a few years before this new variety, temporarily named 'Bob’s Beauty,' can be confirmed.

Members of Hamtramck's local government including Mayor Karen Majewski and Jason Friedmann, Director of Community and Economic Development, are equally excited about the project.

A number of relationships are also beginning to sprout between Hamtown Farms and area businesses and organizations including The Fruit Tree Planting Foundation, the National Pawpaw Grower's Association, the Green Garage, People’s Community Services, Roots to Fruits Ecological Design, Project Grow Community Gardens, and others in order to help regrow this little corner of Hamtramck.

One of the plots at Hamtown Farms.

Photo by Michael Davis.

Hamtown Farms now consists of two plots that span nine vacant lots along Wyandotte Street. The group is allowed to use the land through a garden/lot cleanup permit granted by the city of Hamtramck. If you happen to own or have access to a bobcat with a 12-inch auger, a large supply of concrete chunks, or a good source for topsoil, they'd love to hear from you.

To learn more about the project or for more about North America's largest natively grown fruit, the pawpaw, write to hamtownfarms at gmail dot com. They'd love to share their proposal and hear your thoughts.

A little garden experimentation

2012-01-16T18:53:00.002-05:00

"First we show up, then we see what happens." ~Casey McCall

What I love most about gardening is there's always new-to-you stuff to learn. I love to try something and see what happens.

Last week I went to a talk by Janet Macunovich at the Dexter Garden Club. It was fun looking at photos of pretty plants and getting Janet's take on the mixed perennial border. Then, as an aside, she mentioned an alternative to overwintering tender bulbs (cannas, dahlias, and gladiolas†) inside: You can bury them deeper (at least 18 inches) in the garden instead!

I left some glad bulbs in the ground to die last faIl. I'd gotten them really cheap and was treating them as annuals. But what the hey! Our soil isn't frozen solid, so I decided to give burying the bulbs deeper a try.

Fortunately, I didn't cut the gladiola foliage to the ground in fall, so I could actually tell where the bulbs were.

I decided to dig the storage hole in my veggie bed because that's empty over winter, and the soil there is easier to dig than my less-amended clay soil in other beds. It was pretty easy digging until about a foot down. I always forget the huge tree roots everywhere in my garden. This particular one was only an inch in diameter (a mere baby!), but required getting out the big pruners.

I live near a wooded natural area. This part of it is not 15 feet from the veggie bed. You're seeing mostly buckthorn, which has crazy long roots, but the biggest diameter roots come are from the many nearby 30-plus-feet-tall trees.

After digging the storage hole to about 21 inches, I went to dig up the glads. They were only maybe 6 inches down and not hard to reach at all. Most of the bulbs had starting multiplying and had baby bulbs on the sides. Aww...

I wished I had a mesh bag to put the bulbs in so I could easily pull them all up at once in spring, instead of digging around onesy-twosy. Then it dawned on me I had this decorative metal basket I got at a yard sale but never figured out how to use. So I put all the bulbs in that and set it into the base of the hole.

A more shallow, wider mesh basket that could hold a single layer of bulbs might have been nicer in terms of drainage, and I contemplated jerry-rigging something out of metal fencing, but that would also have meant digging a much wider hole and I was done fighting with roots.

I filled all the soil back into the hole and topped the area with some pine needles for extra protection. Pinestraw tends to stay put (not blowing away in the wind or decomposing over winter), but just to be on the safe side (mark twice, dig once!), I stuck a locator stake in the ground just behind the basket of bulbs.

In spring, I'll dig them up and move them back to the front garden bed at their normal desired planting depth. The storage hole is only to provide the bulbs with more warmth to survive the winter. If I left them that deep in spring, it would take them forever to reach the surface.

Well that's that. Now we'll see what happens!

† Elephant ears are more sensitive to cold and would have to be buried two feet or deeper. I keep mine in pots and bring them in as houseplants over winter.
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The Story Behind the Name

2011-12-05T09:16:00.000-05:00

The other day I was chatting with Bren and realized I didn't know what the BG in her BGgarden blog name stands for. We got to chatting about social media names and how it would be interesting to learn how everyone came up with their online identities.

Bren shares her story here. As for me, I came up with the name Garden Faerie in 2002 when I began gardening for clients. While they were busy at their job, I was busy in their garden taking care of things and making everything look nice, so when they came home it was like the Garden Faerie had been there! I picked that spelling of faerie because I've always liked how it looks. When I started blogging, it seemed the perfect name to use. I didn't realize until much later that the name might make people think I do fairy gardens or am petite, neither of which happen to be the case.

What about you? How did you pick your blog or social media name? Blog about your own Story Behind the Name and link to your post below! (If you've written about it already, just share the link!)

Thanks to Bren for making the logo!

A romp through Shanghai Prairie (part 2)

2011-10-06T05:35:00.000-04:00

In my previous post about visiting Shanghai Prairie in Ann Arbor, Michigan, I discussed the background of the restored priaire and showed you some of what's growing there, including grasses and some fall-blooming flowers.

I didn't have the chance to show you everything, so here are some more photos from my visit on September 12, plus tips for how to incorporate these native plants into your own garden.

The prairie has subtle undulating elevations, due to the area previously being strip-mined. This means both plants that prefer wet soil (lower areas) and plants requiring very dry soil (higher areas) grow there.

Gray or old-field goldenrod (Solidago nemoralis) has green-gray fuzzy leaves and likes dry or well-drained soils. It doesn't mind clay soil, does well on slopes, and gets about two and a half feet tall.

Stiff or stiff-leaved goldenrod (Oligoneuron rigidum, formerly known as Solidago rigida) can get up to 5 feet tall. It prefers full sun and dry soil. The foliage is pale green with thick leaves extending perpendicular to the stem, and the flowers are a bit more showy than other goldenrods with more of a poofy shape than upright stalks.

Great blue lobelia (Lobelia siphilitica) prefers moist or wet soil and part sun. It can handle full sun if it's in extremely wet soil. It can reach 3 feet and attracts bumble bees. I like its blue flowers in the late season when most other blooms are yellow, pink, or white (in my garden, anyway). Alas, my soil is not wet enough to grow it, but if you have a bog or wetland, or are simply willing to water frequently, give it a try. Great blue lobelia is endangered in Massachusetts.

Nodding ladies'-tresses (Spiranthes cernua) is a native orchid. It grows only 8 to 12 inches tall, which is fairly unusual among the many taller plants in a prairie, and it's easy to miss it if you aren't specifically looking for it. It grows in consistently wet soil and prefers full sun.

Even this bad photo of American bittersweet (Celastrus scandens) will help you ID this native woody vine in comparison to the invasive variety, oriental bittersweet (Celastrus orbiculatus). Oriental bittersweet has flowers/berries in clusters of 2-3 in the leaf axils all along the vine, whereas American bittersweet has flowers/berries in clusters of 6 or more solely at the ends of the vine. The ripe berries of both are red, but the capsules, or protective covers over the berries, are yellow for oriental bittersweet and orange/red for American bittersweet.

Purple loosestrife (Lythrum salicaria) is an invasive plant that outcompetes other species in the prairie fen. Fortunately, it hasn't spread too much at Shanghai Prairie, with only this one major clump. (Random, unidentifiable human shown only for size reference.)

Like many other invasive plants, purple loosestrife is a "nitrogen fixer" that alters soil composition by releasing nitrogen and raising soil nutrents. There are instances where this is a good thing, like farmers planting cover crops (such as red clover and winter wheat) and tilling them into the soil before they go to seed to improve the soil for growing food crops. However, in prairies and other natural habitats, nitrogen is a bad thing. Native plants generally require poor soil conditions and do not grow as well in nitrogen-enhanced soil. (So if you grow prairie natives in your garden, it is not only not necessary, but also detrimental, to fertilize them!)

Lol, I'm suddenly picturing myself in a booth labeled "Plant Advice, 5 Cents." Ha!

Also fortunate for Shanghai Prairie is that purple loosetrife beetles (Galerucella spp.) are present. They eat the leaves of purple loosetrife and help keep the population in check. The beetle was approved by the USDA in 1992 as a biological control, after research confirmed its host specificity at numerous test sites. In other words, it was determined the beetles only eat purple loosestrife leaves, not those of other plants, not even other (non-invasive) loosestrifes.

The beetle has been released at trial sites in Michigan since 1994. They were not released into the Shanghai Prairie, but appeared on their own from nearby sites.

I can almost imagine a bunny holding one of these rabbit tobacco (Gnaphalium obtusifolium) flowers and smoking it like a cigar, except that in my mind, rabbits wouldn't smoke! The plant is sometimes also called sweet everlasting and it is supposedly fragrant (smelling like maple syrup), but I didn't bend down to smell it. The plant gets up to two feet tall and likes dry or well-drained soil.

Smooth or smooth-leaf aster, Symphyotrichum laeve (formerly known as Aster laevis; remember, the aster family got a huge naming overhaul!) prefers full sun but can handle some shade. It gets 2-3 feet tall and prefers dry to moderately dry soil. It does not mind clay. Its leaves are smoother, with an almost waxy feel, than those of a similar aster ...

...the New England aster (Symphyotrichum novae-angliae). The New England aster also gets taller, to 4 feet and above, and its flowers tend to be darker purple, than smooth aster. It also prefers full sun, but can handle some shade, and seems to deal with different kinds of soils. If you have these in ornamental beds with shorter plants, and want more uniform heights, you can cut them back on July 4 the same time you cut back mums. Mine self sow here and there and I like them towering over other plants.

The humble-looking Virginia snakeroot (Aristolochia serpentaria) is actually a rare and threatened species in Michigan, present in only two counties. It is an indicator species of a high quality oak woods. This one was growing in the wooded hillside near Shanghai Prairie. You cannot remove threatened species from their natural locations.

Hope you enjoyed your armchair romp through a prairie fen! If you are interested in seeing the prairie in person, you can attend upcoming volunteer workdays to help remove woody invasives:
- Sunday, October 16, noon to 4:00 p.m
- Saturday, October 22, 9:00 a.m. to 1:00 p.m.
Please wear long pants and sturdy closed toe shoes. To register and get directions (on campus of St. Joe Mercy Hospital), call volunteer steward Aunita Erskine at 734.668.6354 or email aunitafl at umich dot edu.

A Grand Day Out at Ball Horticultural Co.

2011-09-28T07:01:00.000-04:00

Last month I enjoyed touring the gardens at Ball Horticultural Co. in West Chicago, Illinois, with Mr. Brown Thumb and Garden Girl.

Ball was started in 1905 by George J. Ball and remains a family company today. Ball breeds and distributes ornamental plants to wholesalers. The Wave® petunia is one of its many plant introductions. Through its Burpee Home Gardens arm, it also offers vegetable seeds and plants.

The grounds showcase new and recently introduced varieties of annuals, perennials, herbs, and vegetables.

I was dazzled by the colors...

textures...

water features...

plant structures... (also check out the tomatoes in the foreground!)

peacefulness...

and abundance of insects! The bee looks so happy on the Gaillardia 'Mesa Yellow'. I also love the seed heads!

I took way too many photos, so I'm just going to share plants or colors that make me think of fall. The rows of Coleus in an earlier photo really set the mood!

I love the leaf margins, color, and texture of this Begonia 'Fannie Moser.'

I love black plants and this ornamental pepper 'Black Pearl' is so dark the photo almost looks black and white.

I love the colors of these cute little Calibrachoa Minifamous™ 'Apricot Red Eye Evol.'

The flower color of this striking Celosia 'Intenz' screams hot summer, but the purple tinge in the foliage makes me think of fall.

This vibrant Echinacea 'Sombrero Hot Coral' makes my heart sing.

I love the orange tones of this Gaillardia 'Arizona Apricot.'

On the outer edge of the gardens, Ball and ComEd are restoring a prairie habitat. (If you're interested in prairies, check out the restoration of Shanghai Prairie in Ann Arbor, Michigan.)

Many thanks to Katie Rotella of Ball for giving us a guided tour of the gardens, providing us with a free lunch, and hooking me up with a behind-the-scenes tour of Ball's seed processing facility (I'll do a separate post about that). Thanks also to Mr. Brown Thumb for arranging the tour!

A romp through Shanghai Prairie (part 1)

2011-09-16T13:49:00.001-04:00

Monday was bright, sunny, and unseasonably warm — a perfect day to romp around in a prairie. My friend Aunita Erskine took me on a tour of Shanghai Prairie in Ann Arbor near St. Joe's Hospital and Washtenaw Community College. She has been spearheading a restoration effort of this prairie for several years. Volunteers have been removing invasive species like buckthorn and autumn olive, and building boardwalks over wet areas.

The prairie covers about 35 acres between railroad tracks and the bend in the Huron River. It's considered a disturbed prairie remnant, with part dry to mesic soil conditions. The wetter part of the ecosystem is a prairie fen.

The prairie is in an area formerly inhabited by the Potawatomi, who called the area the Burnt River District. They regularly burned the area to create open spaces for the animals they hunted to graze. After the federal government bought the land, it was strip-mined for gravel. After that project was abandoned, vegetation returned, but many non-native and aggressive trees and shrubs filled in the space, outcompeting the grasses and prairie flowers. Later, sparks from the railway started little fires that killed the trees, and prairie plants again started to take a foothold.

Everything growing the the prairie today was in the prairie hundreds of years ago. Nothing has been reintroduced. Many prairie plants also make great garden plants.You can integrate native plants into your existing garden or create a new bed just for them.

Big bluestem grass (Andropogon gerardii) is sometimes called turkey foot. It reaches about 8 feet, prefers full sun, and does well in most soil conditions, except sand. It gets red in fall and is named for its green-blue color in spring. The seed head gets tiny yellow flowers which are quite striking in the fall landscape.

The prairie has several glacial erratics of varying sizes, which were washed in with the melting glaciers. Michigan is, by the way, the only state that was 100% covered in glaciers. It also means our soils are very random, from sand to clay to gravel in very short distances, sometimes in one yard.

Little bluestem grass (Schizachyrium scoparium) gets about 3 feet tall and is ideal for the home garden. It gets gorgeous reddish fall color, but is named for its green-blue color in spring. It prefers full sun, and can deal with most soils. It's not wild about clay, but it does OK in my very clay-y soil.

Indian grass (Sorghastrum nutans) looked so gorgeous covered in dew and swaying slightly in the breeze. It can reach 8 feet, but I've generally seen it top out at 6. Later in fall, its foliage turns dark orange/purpley. It is great for the home garden because it grows well in full sun to shade, and it can handle dry ot moist soil conditions.

Prairie dock (Silphium terebinthinaceum) is eaten by dear in the prairie and only the leaves remain. It normally gets 2 to 3-inch yellow flowers on very tall (up to 8 feet) stalks. It needs full sun and can handle moist to dry soil conditions. Give it a bit of space, as the leaves are huge.

Rough blazingstar (Liatris aspera). This grows well in the home garden, prefers full sun, and can handle most soil conditions except sand. It attracts birds and butterflies, and has the coolest looking pink-hued buds (the non-open flowers here are wilted flowers, not buds.)

There's just something about these gray-headed coneflower (Ratibida pinnata) seed heads! The plant gets about 4 feet tall, has yellow flowers with brown centers, prefers full sun, and likes most soil conditions, except sand.

My absolute favorite things in the entire prairie were these gorgeous spent flowers of round-headed bush clover (Lespedeza capitata). It gets about 4 feet tall and prefers full sun, and mesic (average moisture) to dry soil conditions. The bloom is white.

Boneset (Eupatorium perfoliatum) gets about 3 feet tall and is a nice companion plant to Joe Pye weed. It attracts bees and butterflies, can handle full to part sun, and prefers moist soil. The leaves were used to treat dengue fever.

Heath aster (Symphyotrichum ericoides) is just starting to bloom. It's a wetland indicator species (meaning if you see one in the wild, it means you're in a wetland ecosystem) that gets about 2 feet tall and can also tolerate drier soils. It is resistant to deer browsing. Native Americans used heath asters to bind the structure of sweat lodges and on hot rocks to create herbal steam. This plant is threatened in Tennessee.

Sneezeweed or Helen's flower (Helenium autumnale) is one of my favorite fall flowers. Cultivars are available in burgundy ('Ruby Tuesday'), orange ('Orange Beauty'), and orange and yellow ('Mardi Gras'), but I also love the native yellow flowers. It grows to 4-5 feet tall and prefers full sun and moist soil; it flowers just as well in drier soils, but won't get as tall. Incidentally, it's called sneezeweed not because it causes allergies, but because Native Americans used it as snuff.

I can tell you're getting tired, so we'll break up our jaunt. Next time I'll show more prairie flowers, including a ladies' tresses orchid, as well as Virginia snakeroot, a threatened species growing in the nearby woodland.

Everything's comin' up marigolds

2011-09-02T13:49:00.002-04:00

I have cottonwood leaves all over my garden and we've had some deliciously cool nights, so fall is definitely in the air. (We'll just ignore the fact that it's 95°F and super humid today.) I do an awful lot of transplanting in fall and am looking forward to the busy 6-8 weeks ahead of me! It's been so hot this summer that I haven't been in the garden nearly as much as normal.

The beginning of September also means it's time for the monthly SeedGROW post.

I'm really liking the 'Summer Splash' marigolds. The photo on the seed packet shows them as a solid lemon yellow, but in all honesty, I prefer this color.

The plants are super bushy and nearly 2 feet tall, and I only watered them regularly after I first planted them. I really like them along the edge of my veggie bed, and they have helped me fall in love with marigolds again.

My basil 'Italian Cameo' did absolutely marvelously, considering how often I forgot to water it--and it was in a container! I harvested it to make pesto (using this recipe, only I roasted the pine nuts first and added twice the amount of garlic they listed), so it now looks like this. If you would like to see the actual plant and its beautiful leaves, go here.

I hadn't thinned out my lettuce 'Garden Babies' and it was growing too closely together. It's doing much better now with more room.

I'm growing with the SeedGROW project. Thanks to Renee's Garden for the seeds.

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Fun at the Independent Garden Center Show

2011-08-24T12:33:00.002-04:00

Last week I attended the Independent Garden Center Show in Chicago. This tradeshow is for garden center owners to get a preview of the plants and products available for them to sell next year. There were also presentations and workshops for garden center people to network and share ideas. For a humble home gardener and plant geek like myself, it was like being a kid in a candy store.

Media attendees were encouraged to tweet their experiences from the show floor. I love tweeting from my chair at home, but ended up getting so engrossed talking with friends and vendors, and looking at a huge variety of plants, seeds, and gardening gadgets and goo-gaws, that I completely forgot to tweet. There was so much to see!

I loved the texture (much softer than you'd think) and color of this houseplant, Calathea lancifolia or rattlesnake plant. The undersides of the leaves are purple, and the plant grows to 30". If I had more space indoors and weren't a confirmed houseplant hata, I'd actually consider getting this!

Even though I love squirrels (my "problem children" are groundhogs and raccoons), and do not want to shoo them from my garden, this display for Cole's Flaming Squirrel Seed Sauce tickled me no end. The bloodshot eyes, the steam coming out of the ears ... classic.

I loved these retro-looking pieces from Garden Iron and More. They had trellises, gates, seats, plant hangers, and more, all very reasonably priced. I love rust in the garden.

Gardening personality P. Allen Smith was a keynote speaker at the conference. Despite his demanding schedule, he made himself available to bloggers and was very approachable and down to earth. Here Linda and I pose with Allen just before he signs complimentary copies of books for us. I picked P. Allen Smith's Container Gardens: 60 Container Recipes to Accent Your Garden, from which I'm sure to get a few ideas to add to the container gardening class I teach at WCC.

These are the new seed varieties for 2012 from Renee's Garden. I admit I had a bit of a fan-girl moment meeting her in person. I've been buying her company's seeds for a long time, and liked her ever since I saw her years ago on a segment on Gardening by the Yard. A super knowledgeable gardener and sower, but completely down to earth and real. I regret not having my wits about me to have my photo taken with her!

I'm not the biggest fan of petunias, but I really liked this Proven Winners combination of Supertunia 'White Russian' with the lovely dark and textured foliage of sweet potato vine 'Sweet Caroline Bewitched.'

Come back tomorrow for a post on my tour of Ball Horticultural Co.

Steamed & fried

2011-08-04T06:03:00.006-04:00

We're just coming out of the hottest July on record, which means it was too hot and steamy to do much in the garden, except water. So I welcome August, look forward to the ripening of my 22 heirloom tomatoes, and the other bounty and blooms in my garden.

The beginning of August also means it's time for the monthly SeedGROW post!

Here's my little veggie bed in the sunniest area of my garden. I dug an edge for this bed and I'm testing three kinds of mulch for a veggie bed: pine straw, leaves, and straw.

Only 12 of my tomatoes are here (the rest are in containers out front), plus two tomatillos, two hot peppers, four basils, and a border of the SeedGROW marigolds 'Summer Splash.' They are all blooming now and the foliage is quite lush.

The basil 'Italian Cameo' is really rocking it out. The soil line is about two inches below the top of the pot, so there is even more foliage than visible in this shot. I really need to make pesto!

The lettuce 'Garden Babies' is a bit bigger than last month, but not yet ready for harvest. On either side are two varieties of Renee's "cut and come again" lettuce mixes, which 've been harvesting for about six weeks and which are still going gangbusters.

On the seed packet, the 'Summer Splash' marigolds all look like this one solid, lemon-yellow flower.

In my bed, though, only one flower looks lemon yellow like that. The rest are a more orange yellow with a darker orange hue. I don't know if they turn lighter as each flower ages, but I actually prefer this multicolored look. (I sowed them all at the same time into the same flat and am positive I didn't mix up seeds.)

As long as we're still here I want to show you my tall ironweed (Vernonia gigantea aka Vernonia altissima). It is super tall this year (over 7 feet) because of all the rain we had early in the growing season. They're native to my region and I give them no supplemental water.

It can grow in any moisture condition, from dry to wet, and can deal with full sun to part-shade. Mine is in dry clay with morning shade and harsh, west afternoon sun — and look at it! I love this plant.

I'm growing with the SeedGROW project. Thanks to Renee's Garden for the seeds.

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Growing potatoes in plastic bins

2011-08-01T03:24:00.006-04:00

I don't have optimal soil or sun conditions, and a really full garden, so my space for a veggie bed is limited. A few years ago, I started growing vegetables in containers, sneaking them into sunny spots between perennials and shrubs, here and there throughout the garden. I've discovered many vegetables grow well in containers--tomatoes, peppers, zucchini, eggplant, carrots, beets, turnips, squash, and even potatoes. Actually, especially potatoes! Here's how to do it.

First you need potatoes, ideally small ones which are better suited to the confined space of a container. I select smaller varieties and grow them to maturity (harvesting about a week after the foliage has died back). Another option is to grow full-size potatoes but harvest them early as baby potatoes before they reach full size (about a week or two after flowers form).

Last year I grew 'Bintje' (above). This year I'm growing 'German Butterball,' 'Purple Peruvian,' and 'Red Norland,' all purchased as seed potatoes (the first three from Landreth, the latter from locally-owned Downtown Home and Garden).

Seed potatoes are not actual seeds; they're mature potatoes that we cut up and plant. If you get your seed potatoes a month or so before planting, store them in a cool, dry, dark place at about 50 degrees. (If you're storing potatoes throughout the winter, requirements are different. I'll write about that in fall.)

Some people purposefully wait for their seed potatoes to sprout before planting them. This is called chitting and is achieved by storing the potatoes in a dry place at room temperature a week or two before planting. Chitting shortens the amount of time it takes the potatoes to sprout and mature. Some of my potatoes chitted accidentally because my storage area wasn't cool enough. I found it a bit difficult to handle and cut the potatoes without breaking off some of the sprouts.

Whether or not your eyes have sprouted, cut the seed potatoes into pieces so there are three eyes (or buds) per piece. Note: Dark potatoes like this 'Purple Peruvian' will stain your fingers, but it washes off easily.

You can use any large container, provided you drill drainage holes into the bottom. I use plastic storage bins because they're lightweight and inexpensive. They're on sale now for back to school and will be again after the holidays. I got the one shown here at a big box for $4 after Christmas.

My bin is 18" deep, 18" wide, and 25" long, and I wouldn't go any smaller than that, especially not in depth. I drilled holes (7/32" bit) along the bottom edges and in parallel rows, lengthwise. You do not need the lid. I move mine around the garden as a weed suppressant.:)

For filler, I like a 70/30 combo of compost and a good soil mix. The City of Ann Arbor gives out free compost in spring, so I load up there. You can adjust the ratio for your own needs. Potatoes don't need rich soil, but I think they grow much better in a container with it.

Fill your container about a third with your soil/compost mix. Plant each potato piece so it's sitting about an inch from the bottom of the tub and is covered in the rest of the soil. Plant so a cut edge is facing down and the eyes are facing up. I want to tell you I planted the pieces 6 inches apart, but it was likely more like 3 inches. I varied the planting depth a little, to create more space.

Potatoes like full sun, so if you have it, great! If you don't, don't worry. Potatoes are forgiving. Once my trees leaf out, my bin only gets four to six hours of a sun a day and the potatoes did fine.

Here is the bin with the potato pieces planted. This year, I also planted in a potato sack, which my mother wasn't using. The instructions are the same, except you don't need to drill holes because the material is porous, and not as many potatoes fit into it. Otherwise, results were the same.

In-ground potatoes can be planted when soil temperatures reach 45F. I plant mine in the bins at the end of April here is southeastern Michigan, where the last frost date is mid-May.

I water my potatoes once a day, like I would any container. Don't worry if your potatoes don't grow evenly at first. The shorter foliage will catch up in a few weeks.

The heights have evened out now at about 8 inches tall. At this stage, you want to add more soil into the bin, which is the same concept as mounding soil around a plant growing in the ground. Add about 2 inches of soil mix, being careful not to break the stalks.

As the potato stalks grow, keep adding more soil into the bin in stages. This is not an exact science; I add 2 inches each time the foliage gets to be about 8 inches over the soil line. When you've added enough soil to be about 2 inches from the top of the bin, stop filling it. You need at least that amount of clearance so that water has a place to collect without overflowing in heavy rainfalls.

Eventually the potatoes flower (these are 'Peruvian Purple'), bees pollinate, and the potatoes grow.

After about three months, you'll notice that much foliage is still growing, but some has died back. Potatoes are ready to harvest a week or two after the foliage is dried out!

Carefully dig in the areas where foliage has died, leaving the remaining stalks intact. There's nothing I like more than sticking my arm elbow deep in warm earthy compost and rooting around for potatoes. And it's so much easier than digging.

Ta da! My first potato of 2011, a 'Red Norland,' harvested on July 27. They are so good eaten right after harvesting--I ate this one raw, like an apple.

I'm going to do a second planting in the next few days, as soon as I harvest everything currently in the bin. I'm not sure if there's enough time for a second harvest, but I'm going to see what happens. Three months from now will be Halloween. Since potatoes can handle some cold, I'm hoping they will finish by then. I'll let you know.

Another advantage to growing in a bin is you don't have to worry about crop rotation. I dump the compost/soil mix onto my veggie bed at the end of the season, wash the container with a solution of 9 parts water to 1 part bleach, and fill it with fresh soil next year. I can use the same container over and over again, and I save some potatoes to start next year, too.

Garden Green

2011-07-02T11:53:00.004-04:00

I can't believe it's July already, but here we are. And time for another SeedGROW post! A month ago, I had just sowed the basil and lettuce seeds, and the marigold seedlings had just come up.

Today, the basil 'Italian Cameo' is doing really well.

You can almost smell it!

The lettuce 'Garden Babies' is not quite as lush. I'm starting to think I should have planted it in a smaller container, as it's a variety created especially for small spaces.

I do enjoy its round form!

I sowed several other varieties of lettuce on the same day as the 'Garden Babies' into some drawers I got through freecycle. Both seed mixes are also from Renee's Garden, and I've already been harvesting from both. 'Cut and Come Again' (foreground) is a mix of baby and mesclun lettuces, and 'Farmers Market Lettuce Blend' (background) is a mix of sweet green and red lettuces. Both mixes will regrow after being cut.

I've planted the marigolds at the edge of my vegetable bed, because I was struck by an urge to go old school. They haven't flowered yet, probably because I only planted them in the ground a few days ago, and their roots needed to expand from their cell packs! I'm sure I'll have flowers to show you next month.

Have a super holiday weekend, everyone! I'm watching the 2011 FIFA Women's World Cup, which runs through July 17. Go Team USA and Go Team Germany! Deutschland Vor! Noch ein Tor!

I'm growing with the SeedGROW project. Thanks to Renee's Garden for the seeds.

Overwhelmed

2011-06-02T14:45:00.007-04:00

We've had a very wet and cool spring, and everything except weeds is a little behind in the garden this year. Including, most of all, me.

I'm happy to be participating in the SeedGROW project again this year with seeds donated by Renee's Garden (last year, when we grew nasturtiums).

This year, we're growing marigolds, basil, and lettuce, all varieties that can be grown in containers.

Here's marigold 'Summer Splash' which I started indoors, on a heat mat, about a week ago (non-labeled seedlings are the marigolds). I've been winter sowing the last seven years, so it was a little freaky going back to indoor sowing. However, I had a tomato disaster and was already re-growing them indoors on a heat mat, so the more the merrier, I figured. it's warm enough now that I could have direct-sowed them in my southeastern Michigan garden, but I'm not yet sure where I want them to go, so I wanted to grow them in cell packs for easy transplanting later.

Eventually, the marigolds will look like this (photo courtesy of Renee's Garden).

I direct-sowed basil 'Italian Cameo' into a square plastic container and lettuce 'Garden Babies Butterhead' into a rectangular plastic container. (I use the same rectangular container to grow cat grass indoors over the winter, and just harvested winter-sown 'Icicle' radishes from it). Neither the basil nor lettuce has sprouted yet, but I only sowed it two hours ago! ;-) (And, yes, those are old dresser drawers on either side of the basil, growing other kinds of lettuce and spinach.)

Eventually, the lettuce will look like this (photo courtesy of Renee's Garden).

Eventually, the basil will look like this (photo courtesy of Renee's Garden).

I'm growing with the SeedGROW project. Thanks to Reenes Garden for the seeds.

Warm Colors of Morocco

2011-03-30T16:20:00.001-04:00

I'm still waiting for spring, but a friend recently traveled to Morocco. She took some wonderful photos at Majorelle Gardens in Marrakech, which I put into a little slide show for you.

I'm very envious of her trip, of course, but it's the next best thing to being there! Enjoy.

P.S. Can you tell Picasa is my new best friend?

Botanical Glass

2011-03-27T20:03:00.005-04:00

Today my intrepid garden explorer friend, Amy, and I headed off to Planterra in West Bloomfield for a Botanical Glass exhibit. I invited Joey to meet us, but didn't think she'd be able to make it, so it was a wonderful surprise when she and Mr. Ho Hum showed up!

I really liked the glass artwork, which was created by artists from Furnace Design Studio in Dearborn, and how it was displayed among colorful flowers and striking foliage. But I couldn't help but noticed how many pieces were strikingly similar to Dale Chihuly's work. I mean, really similar.

This is a wonderful collage Joey made, and her post about the event is here!

And I made you two slide shows:

Have fun!

Signs of Spring

2011-03-17T10:19:00.003-04:00

Note: Rumors of the death of this blog have been highly exaggerated.

I've been walking around the garden for a about a week, rejoicing daily in new signs of green!

The first green foliage to pop up for me each year isn't from spring bulbs, but from tiger lilies, up close to my foundation.

Maybe my hellebore will bloom this year.

Hyacinths like it wet over winter and dry in summer--they're perfect under my roof overhang.

Bearded irises are emerging.

My first clump of daffodils, near the foundation and under a chair, boasts my tallest bulb folaige so far.

I wonder how long these tulips (at least I think they're tulips, but I don't remember planting them) will last, given the real sign of spring in my garden...

{bum bum bum}... the groundhog has awoken from hibernation! For some of my previous encounters with groundhogs, see this and this.

I got this very small azalea from a friend a few years ago and look at its nice bud--the first flowers it's had! So looking forward to it blooming.

Speaking of buds, I love viburnums. This one will bloom in pink. And I would tell you its cultivar name if I knew where its tag was.

The ice has melted on the little vernal pond behind my house, where American toads sing and breed later in the year. (Like all vernal ponds, this dries up by early summer.)

I love love-in-a-mist foliage.These didn't actually pop up recently; they've been evergreen since last fall, surviving under snow and ice. In fact, if you ever need to know for a quiz show, love-in-a-mist is the only annual I know of that can come up in fall, overwinter in Michigan, and bloom in spring.

But note they spread! You can barely see the prickly pear cactus in the middle of all the love-in-a-mist seedlings.

Squirrels digging in the "lawn" is also a sure sign of spring around here.

Notably missing are witch hazel (which was blooming this time last year), snowdrops (which come up first for everyone else and almost last for me), and crocuses (no foliage up yet, but it seems to grow overnight).

And, finally, a sure sign of spring is that the snow has melted from my winter-sowing containers! (Snow on the ground has melted now, too.) I have one last flat to sow today; we're definitely at the end of the winter-sowing season here in zone 5b/6a.

Edited to add: After a day of temps in the mid 60s and sunshine, look what I found: crocus buds and leaves, which came up together! Shamrock shakes and kisses all around!

Chicago Flower and Garden Show

2011-03-10T23:29:00.004-05:00

Last weekend I traveled to my adopted and honorary city, Chicago, to attend the Chicago Flower & Garden Show at Navy Pier. The show continues through this Sunday, March 13.

It was raining when I left Ann Arbor and snowing when I arrived in Chicago. No matter. I met up with many gardening friends and enjoyed their company. I usually pay fairly close attention to every aspect of all displays, but I admit I was a little distracted (in a good way) by all the fun people around me.

The official theme of this year's show was "the sport of gardening," but judging from my photos, it seems the theme was leafless trees, flowers used to represent water, and cool & unusual animals.

Enjoy the slide show!

Seedy Saturday Swap

2011-02-12T16:01:00.005-05:00

There are few things I love as much as seeds. They come in so many wonderful shapes, sizes, colors, and textures, and produce such a wonderful variety and bounty of food and blooms. Each from just one tiny little kernel! Some people may fantasize about rolling around in a big ole pile of money, but I say ptui! I'd much rather roll around in a mountain of seeds. (Or leaves. Or chocolate. But not grubby money. Bleck!)

So I was very excited today to attend the Project Grow seed swap held at Downtown Home and Garden.

Here's the loot from the swap. You'll have to take my word when I tell you I contributed at least twice as many seeds as I took, and that I plan to share the wealth at future swaps!

Yep, people just love talking about seeds, especially in winter.

I'm really excited to try something called orach, which supposedly tastes like spinach but gets kind of viney, and a bunch of new-to-me heirloom tomatoes: 'Blondkopchen,'* 'Costoluto Genovese,' 'Coyote,' 'Garden Peach,' 'Little Lucky,' 'Pink Accordion,' 'Riesentraube,' and 'Tiger Tom.' Also scored some fennel and four o'clocks seeds.

I may also have purchased some heirloom tomato seeds from Project Grow, of varieties I tasted last summer at their tomato tasting: 'Snow White' and 'Brown Berry' cherries and 'Mrs. Benson' beefsteak.

I've grown over 15 varieties of heirloom tomatoes in each of the last two years and swore to myself (swore—you gotta go with your strengths, I guess) that, for a variety of reasons, I would grow no more than 8 varieties this year. Ha ha ha ha ha! The best laid plans and all that. 'Cause the list above doesn't even include my favorites 'Tiger-Like,' 'Japanese Black Trifele,' and 'Gajo de Melon' or the 'Black from Tula' and 'Dr. Wyches Yellow' (plus a purple tomatillo) from the lovely proprietor of the Populuxe Seed Bank.

I guess it's high time I start winter sowing this season!

I was also excited that there was free food! Downtown Home and Garden owner Mark Hodesh cooked up eggs, any style, on this wonderful 1930s stove. (Note to self: Always take more than one photo so people don't have their eyes shut. Oops. The management has been notified.)

Nommy! Soft-boiled eggs and toasted Zingerman's bread--all free! My dad and I loved eating our eggs this way, dipping the toast into the ooey, gooey yellow center. The fact that my mom thought this technique bordered somewhere between barbarian and childish only egged (ha ha) us on.

I enjoyed the sunny, seedy swap so much, it prompted a second post in under a week.

Hugs, ya'll!

*Seed originated from the Gatersleben Seed Bank in the former East Germany, for my #seedchat friends.

This & That, Over There

2011-02-06T19:51:00.017-05:00

Ohai! Here are some things I've been talking about at my annarbor.com gardening blog:

~ Make your own suet cakes for birds
~ Survive the long winter as a gardener
~ Learn how climate change will affect our gardens
~ Rebloom your amaryllis in six easy steps
~ Try something new in your garden this year ('cuz 2011 is gonna bring it!)

Thanks for all your wonderful comments on my last post. I'm trying to keep the blog alive, thanks to some ideas many of you have given me.

This photo is gratuitous, but if you're interested in growing grass indoors for your cats, it's entirely cheap and easy, and cats love it.

Nothing to see

2010-11-07T01:25:00.009-04:00

I've rewritten this post about five times, and nothing sounds right. So I'm just going to say it, plain and simple.

You may have noticed I haven't posted in a while. I seem to have run out of things to share. These past four years, I've shown and told you pretty much everything I could possibly ever show and tell you about my garden.

My garden is still central to my life, but not so much to my writing. Lately, the entries I've enjoyed writing the most were personal reflections on life, and that's more the direction I need to go, if I'm going to keep up any kind of a personal blog. The irony is, however, precisely that it is personal. I always imagine myself writing only to you, my friends, but the reality is, blogs are unflinchingly public, and my private thoughts aren't.

I'm not officially shutting down this blog, and if the mood strikes, I'll post. But it's not going to be regularly. I may start a new personal blog not tied to my real name.

Regardless, I'm going to miss you guys! Honestly, the main thing that has kept me posting for the last year or so has been you, my friends. I've appreciated your comments, and the friendships I've developed off-screen with many of you, one-on-one. I'm hoping this won't be the end of the line for us. I plan to keep commenting on your blogs, and I hope you'll stay in touch via email and fb. I really feel like I know some of you and I appreciate your support, insight, humor, and love.

In the meantime, there's still my "official" garden blog and my facebook page.

~Hugs, Monica

The scenic route

2010-10-03T10:10:00.021-04:00

I've always believed in taking the road less traveled, but lately I've been thinking of it as the scenic route, because that sounds like you'd meet a lot more plants. Plus, I'm way behind on everything lately and that sounds like a good excuse--I've been taking the scenic route!

Plus, the scenic route ties into the idea of focusing on the here and now (thank you, Cheryl!), not dwelling in the past or fidgeting about the future. And I like to take in what's here and now, savor it, appreciate it. For example, this is the only one of my three 'Spitfires' still blooming. I'd rather focus on it than the ones that died. Look how intense the color is and how the foliage looks like little lily pads!

And bless its heart, it's still budding!

And as long as we're standing together in my fall garden, check out my beautyberry (Callicarpa americana). Its berries are more striking than normal this year.

Is there any question how it got its name?!

My rogue queen of the prairie (Filipendula rubra) should have bloomed in early July, but it also took the scenic route. Eggplant 'Black Beauty' is still kickin' it and cheering Fili on.

Let's cross the street to my kitty-corner neighbors' house (hi, Jim & Nancy!). Do you see something special in their huge, gorgeous red maple?

Now you do! If I'd've been driving by too fast, I wouldn't have seen it.

My tomatoes are done, and I've been collecting seeds. I left these 'Tiger-Like' (which are soooooo good!) soaking too long and they sprouted in the water! And turned fuzzy, noogie! So while the seeds are no longer good for saving and planting later, I decided to sow the sprouted ones indoors now and see what happens. Maybe I'll have tomatoes in February! I love longitudinal research (the scenic route!).

I'm growing Nasturtium 'Spitfire' for the GROW project. Thanks to Renee's Garden for the seeds.

Revelation on megabus and the 9 plants of desire

2010-09-29T06:34:00.012-04:00

I was given the book Hothouse Flower and The 9 Plants of Desire by Margot Berwin to review. The publisher's synopsis is:

Lila Nova is a thirty-two year-old advertising copyrighter who lives alone in a plain, white box of an apartment. Recovering from a heartbreaking divorce, Lila’s mantra is simple: no pets, no plants, no people, no problems. But when Lila meets David Exley, a ruggedly handsome plant-seller, her lonely life blossoms into something far more colorful. From the cold, harsh streets of Manhattan to the verdant jungles of the Yucatan Peninsula, Hothouse Flower is the story of a woman who must travel beyond the boundaries of sense and comfort to find what she truly wants.

I'm going to talk about my own personal take. I enjoyed the book overall; it was an engaging, quick read. I read the first half on megabus on the way to Chicago and the second half at the Lurie Garden in Chicago.

In fact, I left the book tucked in some calamint at the Lurie when I was done, hoping it would make a nice surprise for someone else.

I liked how the book tied people's love of plants to their growth as people. I was amazed by how much in the book resonated with me and was struck by how many quotes really hit home.

One of the characters thought technology was superior to the natural world, and that nature was useless. When Lila's cell phone battery oozed and disintegrated in the jungle, she thought "The old nature kicked the new nature's ass." It reminded me of a caption to a photo a friend once took of grasses growing over an old tractor: "When the works of nature cover the works of man, that's progress."

In one scene Sonali tells Lila, "Once you make a decision, you must stop thinking about it and take action without any regret toward the outcome, regardless of that outcome" (emphasis mine). In other words, once you make a decision, don't waste time and energy focusing on what if. Own the decision. This really, really hit home and was just what I need to hear right at that very moment.

Sonali continued, "Regrets are for people who believe they could have done something differently. If you think carefully about your actions, and then you act, you will have no regrets because you will know that you were as careful as possible when you made the decision."

It was also cool to find out my last name is part of the Spanish word for seeds, semilla.

I really liked Armand and Sonali's deep love and passion for one another. It was nice to see such depth of feelings between older, outside-of-the-norm, squishy-around-the-middle people. That true love is not only reserved for the young, hot, and fit.

I also liked the idea of flower versus root people, with root people "drawn to the darker side of things, the underground or unseen aspects." I'm definitely a root person.

I love Diego's take on people losing their personal identity, in favor of being what society wants, a little bit every year like a zipper slowly closing the person up in one of those full-body, "mummy" sleeping bags. He was very much into knowing who you are and being that person.

He told Lila, "Believe me, when you know yourself, you never want to pretend to be anything else ever again because it is better than anything you have ever pretended, or dreamed up, or imagined, or become." That so resonated with what I've been working toward over the last 8 or so years, I got all misty-eyed, right there on megabus.

The book really helped me tie some loose ends in my mental ether, and for that I'm in Berwin's debt.

Edited: Frances asked what the nine plants are, and of course you guys are gonna wanna know that. How silly of me! They're:

Gloxina, Gloxina speciosa, love
Mexican cycad, Zamia furfuracea, immortality
Cacoa, Theobroma cacao, wealth
Moonflower, Ipomoea alba, fertility
Sensemilla, Cannabis sativa, female sexuality
Lily of the valley, Convallarria majalis, life force
Mandrake, Atropa mandragora, magic
Chicory, Cichorium intybus, freedom
Datura, Datura inoxia, adventure

And a tenth: the passion plant with no name whose form curls inward like a mandala.

Stop reading now if you don't want spoilers!

Being who I am with no regrets, I admit some scenes at the end of the book were hard for me to accept. I understand the book is light reading, escapist or fantasy but not literal, but I got a bit lost somewhere between the realistic beginning and the magical, mystical end.

I was on-board with Diego drinking with the deer; he is connected to the land in a way Lila is not, and getting a group of harmless animals to accept you, versus run away from you, is one thing. However, I did not buy that a black panther would lead Lila, an urban dweller with no animal whispering skills we knew of, to David's house instead of, say, dousing her in BBQ sauce (metaphorically) and having her for dinner (literally).

I was puzzled by how they got the deadly scorpions into the piñatas without getting stung. I wondered how the scorpions survived for days or weeks, and why they didn't chew their way out.

I got the feeling I was supposed to like or relate to Lila, who consistently did more harm than good. I didn't. I wanted to kick her really hard for feeding the mandrake to Diego. Perhaps she was a metaphor for how developed nations perceive and impose their views on developing countries.

Ever since Diego mentioned, when he first met Lila, that one of the nine desires was knowledge, I waited anxiously to discover what the corresponding plant was, but it was never revealed.

I also thought Lila going back to NYC the day Armand told her to was out of character after all she supposedly learned and changed. I suspect, in fact, she did not return to Mexico after all, and fell back into her NYC life.

On balance, I have no regrets reading the book and came away with a lot from it. Thanks to TLC Book Tours for giving me the opportunity to review it.

I broke up with my garden today

2010-09-15T11:53:00.037-04:00

My garden has seemed a bit too big for a while now. Things that were initially mere blips on the garden radar have lately felt overwhelming and insurmountable. A very hot summer kept me inside a lot, and weeds have taken over. My tomatoes were a big bust this year due to marauding raccoons and suboptimal sunlight. There's so much to plant and transplant yet this fall, which I normally look forward to but which this year feels defeating.

Today I planned to dig out seven overgrown junipers that need to go to make room for other things I like more, which have been waiting to get in the ground since June. Five of the junipers are 4' tall x 6' wide, the other two are 5' x 8' feet, though I'd trimmed those back considerably already.

I normally like digging out shrubs--it's hard work but it's gratifying when it's done and it's a good way to get out aggression! First I cut off the branches of the first shrub, which filled two yard waste bags, so I could see where I was digging. Then I dug. This was extremely arduous because the soil is so dry and the roots are far down. I barely reached them at all. I get rashes if I touch certain evergreens and even though I was wearing long sleeves, long pants, socks and closed shoes, I could feel my neck and the back of my legs start to itch. The underside of my foot where you push on the shovel was a little sore. An hour and a lot of digging passed, but still no progress even finding the roots, and the base trunks were not loosening even an eeny beeny tiny bit!

To say I was getting frustrated would be inaccurate. I was swearing at random things (yes out loud), and even called a squirrel (my favorite wildlife friend!) an expression favored by residents of Deadwood. In a fit of fury I jumped down on the spade too hard, onto soil that was too hard, lost my balance, and toppled onto the adjacent juniper in a big flailing heap.

Before I mention what happened next I have to tell you that gardening has been my passion for many years and I have gardened in many different settings. I'm very much a roll-up-your-sleeves-and-get-stuck-in kind of person, a modern-day Rosie the Riveter. My arms, my energy, my determination, and my will are strong. I'm not afraid of hard work and I've always done my own heavy lifting. And, let's face it, I'm so goddamn stubborn that a whole army of buckthorn is no real match.

That being said, we return to me face down in a juniper (which would have been pretty funny if I hadn't been in a mood). I wasn't hurt, but I found myself balled up in a fetal position crying like a baby kitten who can't find its mama. Well, OK, not really crying because I think the sweating dehydrated my ability to produce tears, but that's not the point.

The point is, I cursed my garden, listing all its failings and all its demands, and everything I had ever done for it, and for what? What had it done for me? Huh?! I used a lot of sentences involving "you always" and "you never" and finally told it to get the hell out of my life, only in much more colorful language.

I squeezed my eyes shut, crossed my arms, and pouted, waiting for it to beat a hasty retreat or at least apologize. I fantasized about doing a major ecological burn and thoroughly enjoyed imagining certain things engulfed in flames. I envisioned an alternate garden, a kwoot widdle patio garden, so sweet and demure.

Feeling a lot better, I opened my eyes and was greeted by wonderful color. My garden gave me flowers, clearly as an apology and peace offering. Embarrassed, I apologized also and asked it to take me back. It smiled and said, "I'm not going anywhere."

Which is all very fine and good and smile smile smile happy, but... I still have one partway dug out juniper and six to go and, honestly, I'm tired. I don't know what the solution is. I don't know how to make a large garden smaller (I'm not ever going to convert beds to lawn and my plants are already low care, I never water!) or how to keep up with it more or how to regain some of the enthusiasm I once had.

I suspect it would help to do just a little bit every day, rather than feeling like I have to do perform big miracles all at once. And I think I just need to get back to work. Right after I have lunch.

P.S. My favorite ass-kickin' companion suggests 1) I learn to focus the camera and 2) to intimidate the problem out of existence! Easy peasy.

Added 9/18: Photo update. Three of the five shrubs in the first bed are dug out. Even though my BIL has a pickup and could probably get those chains for me, there isn't a clear path for a vehicle to access that bed. I found digging as far as I can and then soaking the hole for a few hours makes it possible to get at the deepest roots. A second bed has two really big ones and access to the street. I may ask my BIL for help but he has so many projects that I don't like to bother him if I can do it myself.