Garden Rant

Kale-a-Rama makes me Wonder: Is Veganism the Next Big Thing? by Susan Harris

2013-05-17T15:07:03Z

Veganism has been creeping into my consciousness for a while now, but it was the recent vegan festival in my town that makes me wonder if it’s now mainstream. The festival, modeled after the successful Garlic Festival in California (now in its 35th year), and billing itself as the first-ever Kale-a-Rama, managed to draw over 1,000 people, and was a blast. Who’d have thought a vegetable could be so much fun? Well, not me.

But a bunch of activists for veganism and animal rights in the DC-Baltimore area dreamed up the festival, put together a roster music and vendors, and injected a surprising amount of lightheartedness into the venture. No stern “eat your vegetables” tone or off-putting PETA antics.

Tasty “kale-luscious” vegan offerings included kale smoothies, kale pate, kale non-dairy ice cream, the “exciting debut” of a vegan food truck, and kale donuts. Just imagine guilt-free donuts! Entertainment included the “first-ever” vegan drum circle. (Lots of “first-evers” that day.)

The organizers tell me that Kale-a-Rama will be back next year, bigger and better. Here’s my story about all things Kala-a-Rama on the Greenbelt blog that I write.

On the Popularity of Veganism

I’ve been nearly vegetarian for 30+ years (eating no mammals and almost no poultry), for a variety of reasons and had no intention of changing that, until I saw the movie Forks over Knives which made a thoroughly convincing case for full veganism.

And there’s a growing group of celebs who’ve gone vegan and are making news about it, starting with Bill Clinton, of all people. (Good for him!) And sexy movie stars, too.

But I wonder – is veganism for ME? The foods are tasty enough (especially those donuts) but as someone who rarely cooks, for whom Greek yogurt is a primary food group, I’m not sure I could pull it off. Gotta get enough protein to keep on gardening into my senior years, ya know.

Roses redux by Elizabeth Licata

2013-05-14T12:35:46Z

My struggles with roses have entered their final phase: reconciliation. After getting rid of all the boring Meidiland shrubs that came with the house (though for their kind, they were nice enough), I experimented with a few old rose cultivars as well as some Carefree varieties. Nothing really thrived and the Carefrees took up too much space. The one hybrid tea I had was a ridiculous blackspot magnet, and I dug it out early on. I kept a couple David Austins—Abraham Darby (above) and Charlotte, a couple climbers, and one or two others.

But then I was sent two new David Austin varieties: Darcy Bussell and Lady Emma Hamilton. These started blooming almost as soon as I put them in the ground, and, aside for the 5 months between December and May, they haven’t stopped. There is no breather between flushes of blooms and they remain healthy without any spraying or other treatments—which I stopped doing years ago.

The things other people don’t like about David Austins make them perfect for me. Yes, they are lanky; all of them seem to aspire to be climbers. But verticality is perfect for me. A full, bushy rose takes up too much space on my property. Their lankiness makes it easy to fit in other plants around them or even train plants to climb around them, such as clematis or even an out-of-control buddleia. All my DA roses bloom more or less continuously, earning their keep in a small garden. They all have wonderful fragrance and big, full blooms. I won’t tolerate a scentless rose.

Just don’t pay any attention to the height specs on the label. The Darcy Bussell is supposed to get to 3 feet. Ha. Mine is 5-plus—so far. I like roses to surprise me, which is why all the boring, easy-care, non-stoppers (if you don’t mind the ugly flowers) have no place in my garden.

Plant Ideas Needed for Biodiverse Lawn by Garden Rant

2013-05-13T17:44:02Z

Biodiverse Lawn

by Lawn Reform Coalition Member Tom Christopher

Like other members of the Lawn Reform Coalition, I believe that the contemporary model of lawn has got to go. It does have its virtues, though we critics tend to overlook them. For example, traditional lawn provides a relatively inexpensive and easy way to maintain large expanses of the landscape in a green and domesticated cover – I can think of no other landscape treatment aside from meadow that can cover an acre or two of sunny ground and demand only a couple of hours a week of maintenance, and though I prefer the beauty and biodiversity of a meadow, it is not appropriate for heavily trafficked areas. Lawn also provides a nearly ideal play space for children and a relatively tick-free zone – an important benefit where I live, 30 miles from Old Lyme, Connecticut, the original epicenter of the Lyme Disease epidemic.

What if we could eliminate many of the environmental defects of lawns while preserving its benefits? That was the question I asked myself 5 years ago, and one that I have been exploring ever since. Other types of cultivated landscape used to be environmental disasters but have since been updated. When I began my career as a horticulturist 40 years ago, rose gardens were toxic from the constant application of pesticides, but that has changed with the introduction of disease- and pest-resistant cultivars, and a more environmentally sophisticated style of design and maintenance. Likewise, the average vegetable garden was dependent on constant inputs of synthetic fertilizers and pesticides a generation ago. Could the lawn be similarly updated, I wondered.

My first pursuit was to identify types of grasses that in the Northeast where I live that are less demanding of mowing, fertilization, irrigation, and pesticides. A few emails put me in touch with turf breeders at Rutgers, Cornell, and the University of Connecticut who very generously shared the under-utilized low-maintenance turfs that they had created. A visit to Dr. Stacy Bonos at Rutger’s turf-breeding station was particularly eye-opening.

Bluets in the lawn.

I soon came to focus on mixes of different fine fescue cultivars as the most promising alternative for my purposes. Once established on a site, such blends require mowing no more than 2-3 times a year, they are drought-resistant and much less hungry for nitrogen, and, if the cultivars are chosen with care, naturally weed- and insect-resistant. However, I found these blends challenging initially because they are slow-growing (that’s why they require so little mowing) and so slow to establish.

It has taken several years of experimentation, but I have developed a routine that will convert a conventional lawn to fine fescues in just 6 weeks at a price customers can afford, and which, with occasional interventions, produces an mature, mostly weed-free lawn within 6 months.

By “weed-free” I do not mean that such a lawn is a grass monoculture. In fact, the sustainable lawn model I have been seeking demands a more diverse flora. In this case, I am defining “weeds” as plants that make the lawn unsightly, increase the need for mowing, and which will overrun their neighbors. The best way to keep such plants out of the lawn is to fill their niches with other, more turf-compatible plants. My inspiration for this came from first-hand experience, of course, but also readings in guides to lawn maintenance dating back to the pre-chemical-care era – one such book from the 1920’s, for example, included more than two dozen flowers it recommended including in the lawn.

White clover (Trifolium repens) provides an obvious example of the benefits such plants can provide: not only does it enhances soil fertility but it also flourishes where soils are too poor to support vigorous grass growth, and continues to grow in conditions of heat and drought that push most northern lawn grasses into dormancy. And of course clovers are a nectar source for bees. Strawberry clover (Trifolium fragiferum) also integrates easily with turf grasses, providing similar benefits to those of white clover and pretty flowers.

Violets in the lawn.

Our native violets and even Viola tricolor add color and coexist quite comfortably with turf, providing food for a variety of moth and butterfly caterpillars. Houstonia caerulea, bluets, are also compatible and quite pretty and help to feed a variety of native bees.

Other plants that I have identified include Trifolium repens atropurpureum, the bronze Dutch clover (I want to create a turf networked with its colorful foliage), Thymus serpyllum (creeping thyme), Fragaria virginiana (wild strawberry), and Potentilla indica (Indian strawberry). Some of these are native while others are not, but I use the exotic species only where they are already naturalized and non-invasive. I’ve also incorporated early spring flowering, low-growing bulbs into my lawns, including the early crocuses, snowdrops, grape hyacinths, etc. as they have gone dormant by the time the fine fescues need their first mowing.

I would like to expand this list of lawn-compatible forbs, and I am asking for your suggestions. Ideally, any such plants should be easy to start by direct seeding, as this will help to keep my sustainable-lawn model affordable. In addition, they must be sufficiently low-growing that they do not increase the need for mowing, and they should be either perennial or reliable self-seeders.

I am aware that many members of the Lawn Reform Coalition will object to continuing lawns in any form. I myself was of that position for many years, but what I found was that friends and customers often did not have the time, resources or commitment required to transform their landscapes so fundamentally. According to a NASA study, lawn is, like it or not, the largest irrigated crop in the United States, covering an area equal to that of the states of Virginia, Massachusetts, Connecticut, Rhode Island and ¼ of Vermont combined. If we can make an immediate impact on this, reducing its resource-use and turning it into a carbon-sink rather than a CO₂ generator, wouldn’t that be worth doing?

Tom Christopher’s pioneering sustainable lawn company is aptly named Smart Lawn. Tom’s the author of Water-Wise Gardening, a guide to new styles of gardening, editor of the wonderful New American Landscape, and more. Tom also writes for HuffingtonPost and contributes to a blog about sustainable gardening, Green Perspectives. It’s a product of the New York Botanical Garden, where Tom earned his degree in professional horticulture.

In Defense of Plant Critics by Susan Harris

2013-05-10T14:51:41Z

Impatiens at the HQ of the American Hort Society.

Anne Raver covered the newsworthy topic of Impatiens suffering from Downy Mildew Disease in her usual clear-headed way for the New York Times – or so I thought. This week they published comments by some dissenters, readers taking offense at Raver’s dissing of their beloved annuals. Raver had identified Impatiens as “a plant I love to hate,” but here’s how some people read that:

- “Supercilious” and victimizing people who love Impatiens. The letter ends on this revealing note: “I suppose Ms. Raver…would see me as being utterly tasteless and unworthy of notice.”

- “Anne Raver, who strikes me as the last person to write this piece about a generous, giving, colorful little plant that is now in serious jeopardy. Her disparaging comments seem oddly smug about a plant that is so beloved of home gardeners everywhere.”

- To another commenter it’s all about “horticultural snobbery” by “self-defined sophisticated gardeners,” “Elitist, sophisticated Compleat Gardeners,” “horticultural aristocrats” who use “complicated, studied flower cultivation and garden landscaping.”

- “Not just a little mean. She seemed almost to be gloating over the loss of impatiens. I happen to love them, and I also happen to think they’re prettier than most other flowers. I don’t appreciate her snide attitude. I’ll miss them. Her, I won’t read again. I don’t need her negative arrogance.”

Okay, the Times culled these out of who-knows-how-many, but their point seems to be that some folks respond defensively to criticism of plants they love, as a personal attack by arrogant elites. Culture wars being played out in the aisles of the local garden center

I’m sure Raver has heard it all before (as have the quoted Truman Capote and Michael Pollan) and so have I. (I’ve been warned to keep my feelings toward chain-link fences to myself, to avoid reactions like these.) Here on GardenRant I feel free to rant away about my least-favorite plants or gardening practices, though the accusations of snobbery never fail to appear.

Admitted Impatiens-hater.

I can identify with the commenters, though. I’m sometimes irritated by criticisms of things I love. (Recently, my book club recently panned Isaacson’s Steve Jobs, which I enjoyed thoroughly, but kept my praise to myself.) What I don’t get is taking plant criticism as a personal attack on the people who grow them.

I’ll put up with occasionally hearing my favorite TV show or movie dismissed as derivative (or fill-in-the-word) because I think criticism is important and a world without it would be boring. Can you imagine Henry Mitchell with only nice things to say about plants? Or Michael Dirr, for that matter.

When Food is Too Convenient for Our Own Good by Allen Bush

2013-05-09T20:09:27Z

Michael Pollan and Wendell Berry were in Louisville during the first week of May. They weren’t on the Derby celebrity runway that rainy day at Churchill Downs. That was left to Kid Rock, Smokey Robinson—among the few names I did know—plus dozens more B-list television, music and sports “stars” who caused a stir but left me wondering, “Who’s that?”

A completely different kind of audience warmly greeted Pollan and Berry a few days earlier at the sold-out Clifton Center event, sponsored by Carmichael’s Bookstore. Pollan, author and food activist from Berkeley, CA, was interviewed by poet, essayist, novelist and farmer Wendell Berry, who drove to town from nearby Henry County.

Pollan’s latest book, Cooked, had just been published, and he was here to meet his increasingly appreciative readership.

There wasn’t any mention of racehorses. The conversation between teacher and student was described as an “arc” that begins on the farm and garden and ends up when families and friends make time to sit down to eat an unhurried meal—all the better when the meal can be made with unprocessed food.

Berry in his opening remarks said, “This is about discovery or a book of revelation. That’s very much the kind of book this is. Robert Frost wanted his readers to think what a hell of a good time he had writing it. And your book very much communicates that. What a hell of a good time you had writing it.” Further on, he added, “It’s an adventure book, a participatory book. There’s lots of humor.”

“Thanks for your book review,” Pollan responded. “It’s the nicest one I’ve gotten and I really do appreciate it…The reason this book is dedicated to you is because you’ve connected the dots between very ordinary things—the plate in front of us and the farm and garden systems, both natural and economic, that organize our lives. “

Berry has been talking and writing about a broken-down food culture since his groundbreaking The Unsettling of America was published in 1977. He warned then, “My point is that food is a cultural product; it cannot be produced by technology alone.” Not much has changed, except the amount of processed food has reached staggering proportions, beyond what Berry himself was likely able to imagine all those decades ago.

Berry, however, is delighted that Pollan had picked-up the torch: “There are a number of things in your book that remind me just how essential this connection between culture and nature is; and, therefore how essential cooking is.” But processed food has become a huge American ball and chain.

Pollan mentioned Bill Balzer, an industrial food consultant who described American consumers as “cheap and lazy.” Pollan said, “Cooking has been declining since the mid-60s and has fallen by half. Americans, on average, spend 27 minutes preparing meals each day and four minutes cleaning up. That kind of cleaning is not the kind your grandmother did. In four minutes I can crumple a pizza box and maybe scrape a few plates.”

And yet Balzer had a remedy. ”Eat anything you want as long as you cook it yourself.” Pollan, the realist, chewed on that at the time and thought, “There’s a lot of wisdom in that… You won’t eat French fries but once a month, but if you let the corporations cook for you, you’ll eat them twice a day.”

“It’s a very interesting, readable book,” Berry said. “I took a lot of pleasure and instruction. And I don’t have the least intention of learning to cook.” Pollan and the audience laughed.

At our house, on Derby Day, we took Pollan’s advice to heart, but then we had been doing that for years before he became a name to reckon with.

Derby weekend is over the top in every way—from big hats and bad bets, blamed on too much Bourbon. Partygoers at our house didn’t make it until midnight. Once upon a time, in younger days, we might have lingered into the early morning. But this Derby evening, as always, there were friends among us (including Big Daddy and Big Baby), and we filled plates with country ham, added thin slices of beef tenderloin onto fluffy rolls lathered in Henry Bain sauce, and then piled on corn pudding. Then this small heaping was slid together to make room for a few asparagus spears and some mixed greens. Once the plate was licked clean, there was a wedge of Derby pie waiting. No one pushed away from the table. It definitely took longer than four minutes to clean up!

OG Mag on Wildlife-Friendly Gardens: What’s Wrong with this Picture? by Susan Harris

2013-05-09T10:58:40Z

As a big fan of Organic Gardening Magazine, I take no pleasure in expressing my ~~shock~~ surprise at seeing this photo illustrating an otherwise wonderful article about growing wildlife-friendly gardens. The caption on the right says “Orange Boy watches wildlife from the front porch.”

I don’t imagine he just watches.

Do we need to repost links to research demonstrating the harm done to wildlife by outdoor cats?

Tulips in pots—works for me! by Elizabeth Licata

2013-05-06T14:37:48Z

For the past 8 years or so, I have been filling up pots with tulips at the same time I do my October in-ground bulb plantings. Species tulips and other small bulbs like erythronium go in the ground, and the big hybrid tulips go into pots and a couple circular raised beds I installed specifically for tulips and annuals. I have no problem composting the tulips when I’m done—the show is always best the first year, and they only return reliably for maybe two years, especially in my shady front yard. It’s fun to choose different colors every year.

This year, it’s Prinses Irene and Christmas Orange, with some Orange Princess and Black Hero (both doubles) thrown in.

In the raised beds (above) I have Temples favorite, which I think might also go under the name Temple of Beauty. These, combined with all the species varieties I have, make a great spring show and provide the last burst of color I’ll see out here—once the maples leaf out, I’m done. I guess many might see this as wasteful, high-maintenance gardening but it’s the most fun I have all year. Making my perennials do what I want them to do–now that’s work.

Return of the Farmer Pirates by Elizabeth Licata

2013-05-06T17:18:44Z

Some of you may remember the Kickstarter campaign I posted for Buffalo’s Farmer Pirate cooperative. It was successful; the group bought their dump truck and now they’re using it to pick up organic matter from restaurants, grocery stores, and other commercial sites. They’ve also added a residential compost program. The other day I received a 5 gallon bucket from a couple pirates. They’ll be picking it up in a couple weeks, with pick-ups continuing throughout the growing season.

Technically, I already compost at home, but the experience has not been super-successful. I have a compost tumbler wedged in between my garage and the neighbor’s fence, but I rarely get back there to tumble the thing, or put anything in it. It’s not convenient where it is, but a composting operation would be unsightly anywhere else in my small courtyard garden.

Thanks to the pirates, urban residents who, like me, don’t have the space to compost, can still recycle organic matter that might otherwise end up in a landfill. Or, in my case, I might be so embarrassed to be resorting to this that I might find a way to make composting work at home.

The Travels and Trials of Plant Explorer Panayoti Kelaides by Susan Harris

2013-05-03T11:41:00Z

It’s only thanks to Tony Avent’s latest catalog cover that I knew that of the existence of Panayoti Kelaidis – he appears there just to the right of the Ranters. I didn’t know him as a famous plant collector/explorer who’s put the Denver Botanic Gardens on the map, but was just curious enough not to miss his recent and rare talk in the DC area.

Kelaidis’s talk and slides were of his two 3-week trips to the Steppes of Asia in search of plants. He’d chosen that isolated, tough-to-visit part of the world because its climate is similar to Denver’s (it’s Denver’s “steppe sister climate,” he told us).

The super-schlepp in Western-most Mongolia required 10 camels and (I imagine) strong stomachs and other body parts, too, but PK (as he suggests people to call him) seemed no worse for wear, thanks to the tour company responsible, for which he had high praise.

Here are my take-aways from his talk and slides.

- Plant exploration and collection is for people with far more advanced cases of plant addiction than mine. Note that the tagline of his website reads: “Serious plant nerds are especially welcome…others be warned.” Got it.

Only someone with extreme knowledge of plants could spot the often-inconspicuous plants he showed us as something never before grown in North America. Regular trekkers would choose another tour altogether. (I once trekked the Himalayas and my fellow travelers turned out to be rugby players from the Midlands of England, big drinkers who’d hike back down a mountain at the end of the day in search of spirits, then party into the wee hours. Not a gardener in the bunch.)

- This kind of travel is HARD, I tell ya. I can’t imagine three solid weeks in Western Mongolia, by camel (reportedly not an easy animal to get along with), even for the young and fit (and PK’s my age, for crissakes.)

- So with due respect for the hardship endured bringing plants back home from the steppes of Western Mongolia, I was silently thanking him and other explorers of the natural world for doing what they do.

- PK is great company as a raconteur, and I can only imagine the high times and high jinx when he hangs out with the (other?) wild men of horticulture (Tony Avent, Felder Rushing, etc).

- But ladies, he mentioned having a girlfriend.

Hey, guys – a plant we recognize! I could get used to seeing pansies growing this way, rather than dozens arranged just so in the border.

Planting Collecting: The Controversy

In a follow-up email I asked PK how he responds to critics of plant collecting (on the grounds that it brings more “exotic” and therefore potentially invasive plants into the U.S.) He had an answer.

As to the “invasive” bullshit: Human civilization has been built over the dead carcases of native plants: our cities, farms, garbage dumps, strip malls, Nascar race tracks–you name it–have obliterated a vast portion of the worlds biodiversity. The fragments that are left are being frittered still–Horticulture is the sentient way that Homo Sapiens seeks to comprehend the plant world: without gardening there is no food, without ornamental gardening there is no impetus to study or enjoy wild nature beyond mere “observation”. Gardening is sex–nature worship is watching pornography.

Of course no plant explorer wishes to introduce weeds (Doctors do not seek to kill their patients–although some do). To dwell on the down side of plant exploration is the same as criticizing any activity for its potential negative side effects: give me a profession and I will do the same: Priests? Pederasts. Teachers? Ignoramuses who abuse children. Bankers? Think Wall Street exploitation of the mortgage crisis–they were scuzbags of a cosmic order—and we could go on through every profession (think Lawyers).

Plant Collectors used to be respected until that “scientist” from Seattle invented the “invasive” bullshit. Human civilization is by nature invasive–and plant exploration is one of the most powerful means of measuring, understanding and ultimately mitigating the extent of that invasion. End of MY rant! Hope that helps explain my position?

Indeed it does! And how sad that passionate, knowledgeable, passionate plant collectors like PK have to defend such an honorable pursuit.

For a change of scene, here’s a view of PK’s own garden in Colorado.

See PK’s Central Asia slides and info on his website, or see photos of his own garden here.

Get a Job: Lau Hodges, Director of Operations, Conservatory of Flowers by Amy Stewart

2013-03-12T03:34:46Z

Please welcome Lau Hodges, the latest victim of our all-too-infrequent series, Get a Job.

What do you do for a living?

I have the greatest job ever! I am the Director of Operations and Exhibitions at the San Francisco Conservatory of Flowers. I will be the first to admit that the operations portion of my job is not the sexiest. Who can get that excited about HR, payroll and paying bills? But the exhibitions half of my job is amazing! It is the perfect blend of research, design, and hands-on building experience.

How’d you get started in this job, or what was your first job in the plant world?

In 2005 I left a job as a fashion buyer for a large department store which shall remain nameless. I was miserable there. At one point I saw my soul leave my body, give me the finger, get on the elevator and leave. That was the day I quit and decided that if I had to spend 40 hours a week somewhere (and not being independently wealthy I have to) I was going to make damn sure that it was somewhere I wanted to be.

I had always been a fan of the Conservatory and it seemed like a wonderful place to spend my time and energy. I showed up, resume in hand, and told them they should hire me. They said no. So I offered to work one day a week for free. They said yes. After a year and a half of volunteering I was hired on as the Assistant Guest Services Supervisor. At that time a woman by the name of Lisa Van Cleef was designing/building the exhibits at the Conservatory and while she was building an exhibit entitled Color: a Winter Carnival I was assigned to be her gopher. After the first day of working alongside Lisa I was hooked. I knew that creating exhibits with the purpose of getting people excited about plants was what I had to do with my life.

Over the next few years I volunteered myself at every possible opportunity to help with the exhibits and it paid off. In 2010 I opened my first exhibit (with a nod to Lisa) Chomp! 2.

What’s your typical day like?

I am about to hit my 6 year mark as a Conservatory of Flowers employee. To this date no two days have ever been the same.

What’s the coolest thing you get to do at work and what’s the nastiest, most boring, most soul-sucking awful thing you have to do at work?

Coolest: Every day I get to do something that causes me to stop and say, “Man, I have the coolest job in the world.” I spend a significant amount of every work day laughing with my co-workers. Be it driving a Stegosaurus model around Golden Gate Park staging promo shots, combing the Bay Area for vintage arcade games, or working with amazingly creative people like Amy Stewart to bring her book Wicked Plants to life.

Nastiest: Battling the creepy crawlies that can stowaway in any number of crevasses at the Conservatory. Also once, while wearing a sequined dress, I had to climb in the dumpster to shovel some nastiness out of it. Tons of international tourist were taking my photo….somewhere out there are a dozen or so people with a photo of ‘some crazy blond chick, in sequins, in a dumpster’.

Most boring: Probably paying bills. I mean, seriously, how exciting can you make that?

Most soul-sucking: Like I said earlier, I gave that job up. No matter how long my days are or how tired I am, I go home every night believing in what I am doing. It has made me a much happier person.

What’s the most common misconception about what you do?

Probably that it is glamorous. While getting to do the publicity and receiving compliments from people about the exhibit are wonderful the truth of the matter is that it can be a grueling lead up to opening day. I typically work 7 days a week, 10 to 12 hours a day prior to an exhibit opening. Something always goes wrong, plans have to change mid-set-up, and I am often bruised, bloody and limping by the end of it. Not to mention that I am working within the parameters of a 134 year old greenhouse. Where there is electricity one day, there may not be the next, and oh my does the old girl leak. But I wouldn’t change any of it for the world.

What advice would you give to somebody thinking about getting into your line of work?

Just keep showing up. NOTHING in the world can teach you about designing and building exhibits except for getting your hands dirty and doing it.

The next exhibit I am working on Butterflies & Blooms will be opening May 8^th, 2013. I am currently working with the USDA to build an indoor butterfly garden (remember how I said coolest job ever?!) to teach the public about the importance of pollination. Come and check it out! For more information: www.conservatoryofflowers.org

Bedding Your Plants by Geoff Lewis

2013-04-30T18:24:27Z

Photo courtesy Shutterstock.com

Guest Rant by Geoff Lewis

I would like to speak to the curious sport of bedding plants. Bedding plants – you know, big pansies, dwarf marigolds and their ilk. One’s vision is of an orgiastic colour melee: Vast flocks of the vegetative equivalent of Pekinese and/or Schitzu-Poodle crosses (schit-poos) carpeting hallowed garden plots. Presently, our commercially available selection of plants for bedding consists of a short a la carte list of chubby little overfed seedlings. A verdant kindergarten of dwarf, goggle-eyed munchkins hiccoughing their first hideously over-bred rack of sterile genitalia at the proud height of 5cm.

“Aw, Honey look: their first flowers!”, the consuming couples gush at their new, extremely temporary, vegetative pets.

By itself, an unfair view I agree. What about those bold, startling splashes of colour? What about armies of bedding plants spread, icing-like, over otherwise dun-coloured slopes of bare soil? Why not turn your yard into a stationary but flower-festooned parade float? Your house could become the smiling queen of something-or-another, waving and searching the crowd for her friends. If you’re lucky enough to live in a mobile home, you can grow bedding plants on your roof, cooling your narrow abode in summer and drawing envious stares from passing Shriners, clowns and marching bands. If you grow them in the bed of your truck, you can obtain insurance under parade float’s more economical category.

As sarcasm is the lowest form of humour, so bedding plants are the lowest form of horticulture. And who doesn’t like a little sarcasm, now and then? Just not all the time; it’s wearying and tends to make one edgy after a while, as do bedding plants for me. Useful in the hands of well-funded parks staff and landscapers with a reasonable budget, they can shock, enchant, brag wealth, and soften the eyes of even the most fastidiously obsessive-compulsive dickhead. Big bedding displays epitomize the tyranny of order; The Beauty-through-Repetition axiom taken to absurd new worlds. We can dominate the subtle, confusing and possibly dangerous natural world. We can bring order. We control the horizontal. We control the vertical… oh no, sarcasm again.

I like the astoundingly perverse idea of bedding a plant. What do you bring on a first date? Not flowers! Compost, perhaps. And just how sporting is it to stalk something that is rooted to the ground? The parents of most F₁ hybrid bedding plant seeds are vastly inbred wrecks bearing little resemblance to their bastard offspring except in name, though I guess one can skip the step of meeting the folks.

Although bedding plants are mostly sterile, and there are some other small physical and genetic barriers, what plant-human monstrosity would emerge from such an unholy union? One imagines a staggering, blind dwarf repeatedly producing grossly inflated testicles etc. in a kaleidoscope of vibrant hues until mercifully extinguished by disease, neglect or autumnal frosts. There aren’t even laws against this activity yet, unless you bypass the dating scene entirely and go straight to gene-splicing.

Bedding plants are so easy to poke fun at, defended only by cloth-hat wearing trowel-wielders. Such adherents are no match against a rake or long-handled shovel. All this aside, next time I shall only sing praises to the very lowly bedding plant. At least it’s gardening, sort of.

Trees by the numbers by Elizabeth Licata

2013-04-29T12:28:39Z

This sign was attached to a tree near my house.

Did you hear or read the Arbor Day reports on the financial benefits of trees? On American Public Media’s Marketplace, they used i-tree to calculate the value of single trees as well as entire urban plantings. A ficus tree near the program’s office (in LA) was worth $152 a year. The trees in Oakville, Ontario are worth $2.5 million a year, and Pittsburgh figures that it generates $3 of benefit for every dollar it invests in tree planting. The benefits include carbon absorption, building shading, stormwater retention, air quality, water filtration, and property value.

According to another calculator, National Tree Benefits, my Norway maples provide over $200 per year each. I had kind of assumed all this, but having it all interpreted by the numbers does alleviate—somewhat—the many downsides of being surrounded by so many trees in such a tight space.

The report does leave some financial aspects out. The ficus in LA, for example, probably has an extensive root system near the surface that can cause sidewalk cracking and heaving. My maples have already cost at least one year’s worth of their value at least (maybe two) in Roto Rooter visits. And all tree maintenance tends to be expensive. So the report doesn’t include all the numbers. But it will be helpful in justifying re-treeing efforts and in countering people who leave chilling comments like these (from the Marketplace site):

A tree near a house is a killer. That’s all. You may value it at $152 or $152000 or any arbitrary number you stupidly choose. My life is worth more than that, so I had the trees on my property eliminated.

I always forget that there are people like this.

The Run for the Roses is Really About Mint by Allen Bush

2013-04-26T12:05:47Z

Thousands of red tulips have been planted in the Churchill Downs paddock and winner’s circle for this year’s Kentucky Derby. They were shipped from Holland months ago. Nearly 500 red roses will arrive from South America a few days before the race (the first Saturday in May) and be sewn into the “Garland of Roses,” bestowed upon the race winner.

But the spearmint that will flavor hundreds of thousands of Mint Juleps is homegrown—just nine miles from the racetrack.

I am looking forward to a Mint Julep over Derby weekend. A sugary adulteration of good Bourbon is not my preferred taste in spirits. Bourbon should be drunk on the rocks, or with a splash if you must. But I’m willing to make an exception for the good luck I hope a Mint Julep will bring. Picking the winning horse is hard mental work and a soothing tonic helps to ease the pain, especially when my pony doesn’t hit the tote board.

A bundle of mint

Bill Dohn doesn’t have time to handicap racehorses or mix fancy cocktails. Yet for over 33 years he has tied a considerable piece of his livelihood to the Derby. Dohn stays busy year round shipping mint, but the pace quickens when the Kentucky Derby approaches. He, and a part-time staff of ten (Dohn being the only full-timer) cut 3,000-4,000 bundles in the 10-12 days leading to the Derby. In addition to Churchill Downs, bundles go to 10 regional Kroger stores and Louisville’s Paul’s Fruit Markets. Each bundle is enough to make 70 mint juleps. That’s 210,000 -280,000 Mint Juleps! 120,000 of these beverages are expected to be sold at Churchill Downs alone.

The business is an evolving family tradition. Carl Edward Dohn, Sr., bought 65 acres on Canna Road in Pleasure Ridge Park in 1930. The elder Dohn produced a spring and a fall crop of turnips, mustard greens, collards, kale, spinach, green onions, and cauliflower that were delivered to the Louisville Hay Market. He would sell his produce to pinhookers who would re-sell to small groceries. By the time his son Bill graduated from Hanover College in 1973, his father had sold off all but 10 acres, as his other two children had no interest in farming. Bill tried his hand full-time, liked his prospects, and entered partnership with his dad, in 1974, as Dohn and Dohn.

Bill Dohn lucked into mint one day that same year when he was delivering collard greens and kale to Netter’s Produce at Louisville’s downtown Hay Market. Mitch Netter asked if he had any mint. “Yeah, I’ve got a patch at home that my mother planted years ago,” he said. “I’ll take what you’ve got,” Netter responded. Dohn sent a few bundles. “I’ll take more,” Netter begged. Dohn had no more.

Bill Schneider of nearby Jeffersontown, Kentucky, was a Farm Bureau friend of Dohn’s who was growing spearmint for the racetrack. He was too ill one year in the late 1970s to harvest the crop. Dohn volunteered to lend a hand to cut the crop and assembled bundles of mint for Schneider. By the early 1980s, Schneider had died and Dohn assumed the role as chief supplier of mint for the Kentucky Derby.

Where once Bill Dohn could see only five homes from his property, he is now surrounded by suburban sprawl. Making it on 10 acres for 39 years goes against the conventional grain of big-time agriculture that insists only bigger is better. Other larger growers are astounded he can make it on a few acres. He has to be efficient.

Dohn possesses a quick smile and an affable manner. Still, for the part-timers who arrive after high school, it’s no-nonsense, dirty work to cut bunches of mint and tie them into bundles. For these boys—a few of them representing the second generation at Dohn and Dohn—it’s their first job experience. As soon as I walked into the greenhouse, I could hear their playful banter and sense their camaraderie in the joy of good work.

The greenhouse, sweetened by the scent of spearmint, is used for forcing a small crop in early spring and late fall. There is nothing fancy, no frills—no metal halide grow lights, for instance—and minimal heating. Outdoors in mid-April, the principal mint crop was shorter than usual, hampered by a cool spring. Years of experience left Dohn feeling confident the crop, with just a few warm days, would make up ground. He divides field clumps for re-planting every five years or so and has no idea which mint cultivar he has grown all these years.

Mint Juleps with “gold-filtered mineral water” from eastern Nova Scotia

Late on Saturday afternoon, just before the Derby horses are saddled-up and led to the track, Dohn, if chores are done, hopes to be down at the lake with no television. He won’t be able see the Derby crowd of over 100,000. Lots of them, from the college kids in the infield to the high rollers in the Turf Club, will have paid a hefty $10 for a Mint Julep in a commemorative glass with the names of all of the Derby winners.

For the big spenders who want to pony up $1,000—or even $5,000—there are upgrade “exclusive” options—with “gold-filtered mineral water” from eastern Nova Scotia. My best guess is that these Mint Juleps get sold late in the day to gamblers who’ve gotten lucky and cashed a hand full of tickets. It is also my hunch that they’ve had more than a few cheaper cocktails before ordering one of these. The proceeds go to charity.

Here’s a recipe for the more frugal-minded. Your Mint Julep will work just fine with tap water.

And here’s an interesting spin with tarragon from Amy Stewart.

Bill Dohn may just forget about the race and pour himself a cold beer.

Wild Bee, I think I love you…* by Garden Rant

2013-04-25T11:29:48Z

Guest Rant by Will Raap

Honey bees and wild pollinators need your help and need it now.

Gardeners know that good pollination makes for better crops of tomatoes, cucumbers, apples and raspberries. And that’s especially true for certain commercial crops like almonds, which need to have 1 million honey bee hives brought to California’s Central Valley to provide pollination for 60 million trees, supporting 80% of the world’s almond production. But wild bees, beetles, flies, butterflies, moths, birds and bats also are critical in moving pollen from the male to the female parts of flowers for fruit and seed setting.

The journal Science affirmed this point with a recently published study of 600 sites in 20 countries involving 41 crops. It found that wild insects are more important than we may have thought for crop pollination and that honey bees cannot replace the value and importance of wild pollinators. Science reported that “Wild insects pollinated crops more effectively, because an increase in their visitation enhanced fruit set by twice as much as an equivalent increase in honey bee visitation. Further, visitation by wild insects and honey bees promoted fruit set independently, so high abundance of managed honey bees supplemented, rather than substituted for, pollination by wild insects.”

So our gardens and farms need BOTH wild insect and honey bee pollinators.

Albert Einstein, the physicist, not an entomologist but still a deep thinker about global issues, said “If the bee disappears off the surface of the earth, man would only have four years of life left. No more bees, no more pollination, no more plants, no more animals, no more man.”

What can be done?

Wild pollinators usually live in natural habitats, such as the edges of forests, wetlands and riparian zones, hedgerows or grasslands. The Science article shows agriculture can also help promote nature’s free pollinator services with practices that conserve or restore natural areas around and within croplands, add diverse flowering plants, provide nesting areas, and minimize and/or ban pesticide use. Sure, farmers with flowering crops can always pay to bring in commercial honey bee hives, but it may be cheaper and will be more effective and better for the environment if we design farming systems to help wild pollinators thrive.

I helped created a non-profit program, Bees for Trees, that is helping families in Costa Rica become beekeepers. It provides participating families with a zero-interest micro-loan to begin producing honey from 10 hives – enough to increase household income by 30 to 50 percent. In return, these small landowners must stop using toxic pesticides and herbicides and also reforest 10% of their denuded land, thus reducing erosion, increasing ground water reserves, and improving wild pollinator habitat. We’re working on a crowd-sourcing campaign, where a $25 donation can help us expand the program and get you some fresh Costa Rican honey.

The Science article concluded that without steps to conserve wild pollinators, “The ongoing loss of wild insects is destined to compromise agricultural yields worldwide”.

What if every farmer, large and small, were supported to be good stewards of the nature around them by being offered incentives that improve their overall income, not just financial but also the kinds that healthy ecosystems offer for free?

* With apologies to the Troggs and their 1966 best-selling song “Wild Thing”

Will Raap, founder of the Intervale Center, Restoring Our Watershed and Gardener’s Supply, is engaged in creating positive social, environmental and economic change by employing the power of markets and social enterprises. He focuses on local food, renewable energy, and land restoration enterprises that support a more resilient economy and more sustainable future. Other initiatives include The Earth Partners, Reforest Teak, Farm at South Village and the New Economics Institute.

The Drunken Botanist Tour, and You Should Totally Grow These by Amy Stewart

2013-03-13T22:59:33Z

Okay! A few more tour dates for you. See you out there? Go here if you want to see everything that’s coming up. And as always, check these venues for full details.

April 24 2013 — Culinary Arts & Letters, Chapel Hill, NC
Special cocktail event with The Crunkleton and Fearrington Inn.
April 27 2013 02:00 PM — Indianapolis Museum of Art, Indianapolis, IN
Flower Confidential

And now, I’ve got just a couple more drink/plant recommendations for you. Plants you probably aren’t growing but totally should.

Black Currant, the magic ingredient in cassis.

Why don’t we grow black currants in this country? Because it was banned in the 1920s for its role in spreading white pine blister rust. By 1966, the USDA realized that the ban was unnecessary and lifted it. Spores of the disease can only travel a thousand feet from black currant bush to pine tree, so keeping them out of pine forests is really pretty easy. Besides, many new varieties are disease-resistant. The ban remains in place in ten states on the east coast, but agricultural scientists at Cornell are working with those states to educate them about black currant and persuade them to lift the ban.

So you can certainly grow them. Read more about that here, and remember that the fine people at Clear Creek Distillery make an excellent American version of cassis if you don’t want to bother growing your own.

Sloes! Are you growing sloes? Also known as the blackthorn bush or by its Latin name, Prunus spinosa, this large European hedgerow plant produces the small, tart fruit used to make sloe gin. It’s hard to find in these parts, but try Forest Farm nursery in Oregon or Lincoln Oakes nursery in North Dakota. Last I heard, Forest Farm was growing a grand total of 20 of these per year, demand was so light. I am determined to change that! Let’s freak them out and all order sloes! Read about sloes, and about sloe gin, here as well.

Sloes may not be easy to find, but black currants are part of the Drunken Botanist Plant Collection, now in West Coast garden centers.

Okay! Thus concludes news from the road and garden-y cocktails. For now. First, I’m going away for a nice long rest….

Trendy in a bad way by Elizabeth Licata

2013-04-29T01:54:14Z

Flowers by Shutterstock

For those who, like me, read trend reports with fascinated horror (Really? Animal prints? Still?), here’s one that’s a little more fun—Today’s Garden Center’s Top 10 Most Hated Garden Trends.

There are several I dislike with equal fervor, a few others are more garden industry inside baseball stuff, and a couple are just kind of strange. Some excerpts:

“Many plant lovers shudder when they hear the term ‘fairy gardening.’” Yes.

“Breeding for color only. … A lot of poorly performing plants resulted.” Yes. And this is not just about the fluffy chartreuse echinaceas. The first thing that goes with obsessive breeding for one quality or other is scent, especially with roses, but also with annuals like petunias and nicotiana. I just don’t see the point of a garden that doesn’t smell like a garden.

The top industry complaint is that the big boxes are getting the independent brands that were once only seen at IGCs. This is not a complaint gardeners will commonly make, especially those who do not have access to a wide selection of IGCs in their community. If the big boxes get better plants, it helps gardeners. Luckily, I’m able to shop at 5-10 IGCs and locally-owned nurseries that have earned my loyalty. I know that’s not the case for everybody.

The most interesting “most hated” trend was #7. Gen Y Getting Too Much Attention. This was more along the lines of “hating having to learn about a new market.” I can only judge by the younger gardeners (and non-gardeners) I know in Western New York—and I do know plenty. Basically, the ones who are getting into gardening are doing it for the same reason I started. They finally have a space where they can garden. And it’s true that a lot of them are more into growing food—as are we all.

Those of you who live in the Northeast should consider getting on the mailing list for Jane Milliman’s Ear to the Ground newsletter. It’s where I saw this trend link, as well as a lot of other interesting pieces of news and garden industry gossip. Jane also edits the Upstate Gardeners’ Journal. Although some of the news is local, Ear to the Ground is entertaining and smartly put-together. So much better than the marketing crap I get in my mailbox daily. My trend request—more like this!

P.S. Happy Earth Day, everyone! It would have been trendy to post an environment-themed rant today, but I will instead have one later this week.

When Master Gardeners Break the Rule and say they’re Master Gardeners by Susan Harris

2013-04-19T12:32:36Z

Master Gardener Clinic at a local Farmers Market

Not long ago we had a lively discussions here (145 comments!) in answer to the question: What do we think of Master Gardeners?“ Much of the criticism of the MG program was focused on the name, and several commenters opined that “Extension Volunteer” would be more accurate and cause less resentment from others in the gardening world.

Well, we have a follow-up! I received an email complaining about two Illinois Master Gardeners identifying themselves as such on the Directory of Garden Coaches. Here’s the email:

I am the University of Illinois Extension Master Gardener Coordinator. I was just referred to the Garden Coaches website and I noticed that several of the Illinois coaches list that they are Master Gardeners. This is in direct conflict with our mission at the University and I am requesting that you remove those designations from your website for Debbie Notaro and Linda Tyson. I will contact them individually but as creator of the site you should be aware that all states have similar policies and Master Gardeners are not allowed to use their title in any form of commercial advertisement ( see below). I have read your garden rants about Master Gardeners and disputing those ideas are not the reason for my email. I am just hoping that you will be caring enough to respect the Cooperative Extension Service and the land grant universities and have these titles removed. I am certainly in favor of these folks marketing their skills and making a living- but NOT by using the title of Master Gardener.

From our policies:

“A Master Gardener should not display credentials or give the appearance of being a University of Illinois Extension Master Gardener at a place of business unless that place is conducting an authorized University of Illinois Extension Master Gardener activity. It is improper to imply that University of Illinois Extension endorses any product or place of business. Master Gardeners must not use their title in any form of commercial advertisement. The Master Gardener program is a public service program established to provide unbiased information, and the title “Master Gardener” is to be used only when conducting unpaid volunteer work in the program.”

Please consider my request which is made in good faith.

Regards, Monica

Dear Monica, I DO take the request in good faith, but as to whether I’m “caring enough” to have the titles removed? It’s complicated.

1. I did indeed co-initiate the Coaching Directory (with Jean Ann Van Krevelen) and am listed as “founder” but I’m not responsible for anything written on it by individual coaches. It was Jean Ann’s suggestion to use a website program that allows coaches to have control of their individual entries, and that’s enabled us to be hands-off. Thankfully.

2. Anyway, I’m not sure I support the rule prohibiting use of the term MG on a bio seeking work. What’s the purpose, exactly? To avoid the appearance that the university endorses some product or other? Like when the garden manager at my local Lowes told me how great the Scotts multi-step ~~stream pollution~~ lawn fertilization program is and to drive home his endorsement, told me he’s a Master Gardener? Yeah, that’s bad. On the other hand, what harm does it do when garden coaches inform prospective clients that they’re Master Gardeners?

3. Seems to me the problem here is that misnomer of a term. I doubt that the Lowes manager would have claimed status as an Extension Volunteer in order to bolster his endorsement of Scotts.

But let’s hear from the two offending garden coaches, found here on the Illinois garden coach page. Linda Tyson wrote:

Personally, Susan, I think this rule s*cks. What are we some kind of secret society or something? Yes, Monica contacted me, and I removed the MG reference, sent her an email to let her know it was gone. I think it’s ridiculous that we aren’t ‘allowed’ to mention our work with Extension in our professional credentials and I think the argument about the University having some involuntary ‘endorsement’ of us by simply stating we volunteer our time as Master Gardeners (essentially what my reference to being a MG stated,) is ridiculous as well. They lose a lot of good volunteers over this (to me) silly rule. I’m not big on rules to begin with, and this one is take it or leave it. If you don’t bow to it, you’re out. I don’t agree, but if/when I decide to leave I’d prefer it to be on my terms, so I took the MG reference out. Now it just says I volunteer my time without saying with what organization. (I plant flowers for the CIA. Shhhh . . . it’s top secret.)

I’ll add one more thing – I don’t understand how they can be concerned about any sort of endorsement. Makes about as much sense as a university telling people not to include where they went to school on their resumes for fear of the public thinking that constitutes an endorsement. MG experience is valid experience and should not have to be kept secret.

And from Debbie Notaro:

Susan, While I would think that the University of Illinois would have better things to do and more important issues at hand to complete their mission, I will say this.

I am a former master gardener of an extension. I earned my certification from the University of California, when I lived in California from 2001-2005. I have over 1,000 service hours on my record. I chaired the first Contra Costa County wide Garden Walk, which raised thousands of dollars for the extension and U of C published 3 papers I wrote on their website. They still use the model of the garden walk and in fact mentioned me in their newsletter last year for the record number of service hours I had volunteered. I am very proud of my time served with the Master Gardeners of Contra Costa County and have many fond memories of the gardeners I worked with there. [Lots of praise for Extension services deleted for brevity.]

Just as you would use a degree in Horticulture from any university in the country as a part of your biography; the master gardener program is an educational advantage to gardeners who take the time and effort to complete classes, pass exams, and complete their certification by answering the hotline questions and volunteering their time for a certain amount of hours per year. This designation or qualification does not miraculously disappear when you leave the extension any more than your degree would after you graduate college.

While I am not an active member of the extension service here in Kane County Illinois, I still do everything I can to educate the public and private clients about gardening. [Examples omitted for brevity.]

In more recent years I’ve earned certifications as a Horticulturist and Landscape Designer and achieved much beyond the master gardener program educational requirements itself. I am still most proud of earning that designation. It is a portion of who I am and what I believe in. It is how I approach clients and the general public when speaking or writing. The term master gardener denotes an experienced and educated gardener who has attained more knowledge than the average person about gardening. I would liken it to a carpenter or plumber… most people can do simple repairs, but call a certified and educated carpenter or plumber, who also by the way carry a designation of master, when they have an issue beyond the average homeowners expertise.

The university systems have a worthy program. I am a huge fan and supporter. However, the term master gardener to my knowledge is not trademarked or copyrighted. I would think that the extension services would be proud of members’ current and former affiliation with the university program… it seems that is not so at least in Illinois.

All of the ‘master gardeners’ I have known in my life across the country, whether affiliated with a university or not, have through their own effort and practice mastered the art of gardening through education and experience.

My experience with the master gardener program in California is as much a part of my education as my certifications following it. It will remain on my resume. It is part of who I am and what I’ve done to accomplish life goals for myself.

So readers, what do YOU think of the rule and the enforcement thereof?

Drunken Botanist Tour Dates: Southwest, East Coast, and Where is the Gin? by Amy Stewart

2013-03-13T22:59:00Z

Yes, I am still on the road! It’s hard to believe, I know. I can hardly believe it myself.

So here are some tour dates, and the complete list, if you’d like to see it, is here. As always, check details with the venue before heading out.

April 17 2013 07:00 PM — Changing Hands Books, Tempe, AZ
Join us for a talk about The Drunken Botanist–and a fabulous cocktail made with Dripping Springs Vodka.

April 18 2013 06:00 PM — Arizona Science Center, Phoenix, AZ
This is a private event for Director’s Circle Members only.

April 19 2013 07:00 PM — ArtBar with Bookworks, Albuquerque, NM
This event will be at ArtBar, 119 Gold Ave SW. Albuquerque, where we will drink some fabulous cocktails. Bookworks is sponsoring the event.

April 22 2013 06:30 PM — Science of Distillation, Boston, MA
A special Museum of Science event held at Grand Ten Distilling. Talk, tour, and tasting included in ticket price, and fabulous food available for purchase from The Dining Car food truck. Advance ticket purchase required.

April 23 2013 08:00 PM — 92nd Street Y, New York City, NY
The Drunken Botanist at Warburg Lounge. Ticket purchase required.

April 24 2013 — Culinary Arts & Letters, Chapel Hill, NC
Special cocktail event with The Crunkleton and Fearrington Inn.

April 27 2013 02:00 PM — Indianapolis Museum of Art, Indianapolis, IN
Flower Confidential

And I have one last plant collection for you. I think I’ve saved the best for last, because really, what spirit goes best with just about any herb, fruit, or vegetable than gin? So this is the Old Tom Gin Garden, named after a sweeter style of gin that was popular in the 19th century. But to be honest, we just liked the name.

It was incredibly easy to come up with plants to pair with gin. If anything, we had a hard time figuring out what not to include. But in the end, we settled on two kinds of cucumber, borage, basil, and lemon thyme.

I want to tell you about one of these cucumbers. It’s not actually a cucumber at all. ‘Mexican Sour Gherkin’ is a close relative, Melothria scabra, native to Central America and Mexico, with a bright, tart flavor a bit bolder than a cucumber—but the flavor isn’t the only reason to grow this one. The fruits themselves are only the size of a grape, but they resemble miniature watermelons, with a mottled green and white skin. They’re the perfect size for a drink garnish, and the plants are surprisingly prolific. Well worth growing. (get them here)

Anyway, those are the plants, all available from Territorial and also through West Coast garden centers supplied by Log House Plants. And your cocktail for the week? How about this?

The Herbarium
1.5 oz Hendrick’s Gin

.5 oz St-Germain elderflower liqueur

3-4 chunks lemon cucumber

2-3 sprigs basil

¼ lemon

Club soda

Borage blossom or basil leaf for garnish

Squeeze lemon into cocktail shaker and combine all ingredients except the club soda. Muddle cucumber and basil, then add ice, shake, and strain into a tall, skinny Collins glass filled with ice. Top with club soda and add garnish.

Sex and drugs and rock ’n’ roll—and gardening by Elizabeth Licata

2013-04-15T12:05:29Z

Roosevelt Island courtesy of Shutterstock

Did you read about that wacky garden club on New York’s Roosevelt Island? Things have gone sadly awry at the tiny East River island’s Garden Club, according to a recent New York Times story. The 120-plot community garden is located in Octagon Park and run by a volunteer board. Full members of the club may own plots, associate members can work in the garden, and there’s about a 75-person waiting list for plots. It’s not an atypical situation in this crowded microcosm, where public green space is relatively abundant, but private garden space is rare.

The new president of the club, April Ward, elected in October, is either reforming or ruining operations at the garden, depending on whose side you’re on. She has accused other members of overnight partying in the space—with compost bins to store solo cups and the garden shed a nexus of illicit activity. She’s also declared war against weeds (as well as weed), and has left waterproof notes in the plots of offenders. At some point, the communal garden shed was set on fire, and the garden was briefly closed (it has since reopened). If you want to know more, I am sure there will be further reports in the Times, or the Roosevelt Island paper.

I like living in a city, but so far, I have resisted the idea of participating in a shared garden space, mainly because I want my garden to be part of my relaxation at home, not just another stop-off on the round of daily chores. I considered getting some kind of plot where I could grow vegetables, but decided I’d be much happier with a CSA share.

Too bad, though, that these people had to turn a peaceful activity that’s supposed to relieve stress into a big fight that will probably end in litigation.

Capture the lightning by James Roush

2013-04-12T19:30:44Z

On a recent afternoon, after a day and a half of strenuous garden work, Professor Roush quit working and took a number of photos to convince himself, and all of you, that spring was beginning in Kansas. I was sidetracked, however, by the quick appearance of a small storm with a negligible offering of rainwater, and a little bit of lightning and thunder.

Many of you will remember how excited I was last year to accidentally capture a lightning bolt while I was taking prairie-storm pictures (if not, it’s HERE). Least year’s photo was indeed fortuitous, and at the same time it was likely the end of an era, for this year, there is a new app for iPhone that will capture lightning, fireworks, gunshot flares, and other flashing phenomena. Some genius has taken the luck right out of it and now everyone will have their own lightning pictures. I read about the app, called iLightningCam, a couple of weeks ago and the wait since for a thunderstorm has been near unbearable. Finally, the sky darkened, the flashes began, and out I went onto the covered porch to see if it worked. Within 5 minutes, I had the picture above, a bolt of lightning flashing over my slowly greening and newly cleaned south garden beds. Lightning pictures are now idiot-proof and I have the evidence.

The iLightningCam app is inexpensive (disclaimer; I get no sales revenue from mentioning it), works on both iPhone 4 and 5, and is simple to use. There is a trial Lite free version as well. It claims to use the iPhone light sensor to set off the camera, but I theorize that it is running a continuous loop of video and just capturing some set of frames that were taken just before a spike of light notifies it that there has been a flash. At least that’s what I believe the “15fps” in the upper left corner of my screen indicates.

Once I get over my initial excitement with the app, I’m going to try to get more artistic with garden lightning combination photos, but for now, I’m still a kid in the candy store; a kid with the gift of magic bestowed by an iPhone genius named Florian Stiassny. As my Jeep tire cover says, “Life is Good.”

How to get Unique Photos of Cherry Blossoms by Susan Harris

2013-04-11T19:29:48Z

Photo by Jacques Domenge

D.C. local Jacques Domenge wanted to photograph the cherry blossoms around the Tidal Basin, which are finally blooming but swarming with the hordes, so he waited until dark. He then used the very cool “light painting” method, starting by setting up a tripod and choosing a long exposure. Then he lit up the frame with the strongest flashlight he could get hold of, and wow, what a gorgeous and surreal result, which has gone viral after being published on The Atlantic. Kudos, Jacques! Click to see more.

Me, I tried photographing the blossoms last week, but you may remember how that turned out (see “Blossomless,” etc).

Of course I could have returned to the Tidal Basin again this week and dealt with glaring sun and 90-degree weather (you read that right) but decided to catch some display at the much-closer and less crowded National Arboretum. Trouble is, it’s only open 10 to 5, so there’s no way to avoid glaring sun on days like this. Oh well. Here’s what I found.

Above, cherry blossoms with the Capital Columns (taken from the U.S. Capitol) in the background.

My favorite spot was the Magnolia collection.

Next week the azaleas will be blooming and the Arboretum will be CRAZY.

More Photo Tips?

So how do YOU avoid photos of iconic garden shots that look like thousands – make that millions – of other photos?

The Drunken Botanist Tour: Milwaukee to Miami, and Beyond. Plus, Whiskey. by Amy Stewart

2013-03-01T21:08:13Z

Why, yes! It’s another week of Drunken Botanist tour dates? Are you out there, Milwaukee people? Miami people? Austin? Phoenix?

Well, if you’re interested, all the tour dates are here, and as always, check with the venue to confirm event details before heading out.

April 10 2013 07:00 PM — Boswell Books at Great Lakes Distillery, Milwaukee, WI
Join me and the folks from Boswell Books at Great Lakes Distillery for a free tasting and talk! Co-sponsored by Boerner Botanical Gardens.

April 11 2013 07:30 PM — Magers & Quinn, Minneapolis, MN
Drunken Botanist book tour

April 12 2013 08:00 PM — Books & Books, Coral Gables, FL
Drunken Botanist book tour

April 13 2013 07:00 PM — Books & Books, Grand Cayman
The Drunken Botanist

April 16 2013 07:00 PM — Book People, Austin, TX
Come sample a botanical cocktail from Tito’s Handmade Vodka, mixed with Liber & Co tonic, and learn about cocktail-friendly plants with the folks from Great Outdoors Nursery.

April 17 2013 07:00 PM — Changing Hands Books, Tempe, AZ
Join us for a talk about The Drunken Botanist–and a fabulous cocktail made with Dripping Springs Vodka.

And now–whiskey!

The Southern Belle Whiskey Garden collection was a tricky one to put together. When I think about the plants that go best with whiskey, I think about peaches, cherries, and oranges–none of which fit in a jumbo six-pack at a garden center. And since it was my job to come up with recipes that used the ingredients in each collection, quite a bit of experimentation took place.

We came up with another mint variety–’Kentucky Colonel’ this time–which is widely regarded as the best mint julep mint. So that’s a no-brainer. Thyme and tarragon also made a lot of sense–the bold, woodsy flavors stand up well to peaches and other stone fruit that often gets mixed in whiskey drinks. And chamomile? Well, I found a chamomile hot toddy recipe that seemed downright medicinal in nature. Restorative, anyway. So we included that.

So here, then, is your recipe. Get more ideas here, and as always, remember that you can find these plants at Territorial or in garden centers on the West Coast supplied by wholesale nursery Log House Plants.

Tarragon Mint Julep

2 oz bourbon (I like Maker’s Mark)

3-4 tablespoons superfine sugar (see note)

Generous handful of fresh spearmint or tarragon, or a mixture of both

Crushed ice

Into a silver julep cup, mason jar, or highball glass, press 2 tablespoons of sugar with a small amount of water to create a paste. Add a layer of fresh mint leaves and crush gently. Top it with a layer of crushed ice. Sprinkle sugar and another layer of mint leaves, then top with another layer of crushed ice. Continue until the glass is full, then pour in bourbon.

Note: Superfine sugar dissolves quickly, but regular sugar is fine too. Don’t use powdered sugar—it contains cornstarch and can gum up a drink.

Pour Me Another Kentucky Coffeetree by Allen Bush

2013-04-09T13:04:19Z

When you think of plant hunting—Indiana Jones style—you usually think of faraway places. Throw in tall mountains, deep ravines, landslides and feuding warlords, and you might soon forget the plants. The story becomes more about the adventure.

Andy Schmitz and Jeff Carstens haven’t been to China or India, but they found enough adventure closer to home in early March to keep them entertained.

The two Iowans hit pay dirt on their eight-day mission to find fruiting, female Kentucky coffeetrees in Kentucky, Indiana, and Illinois. Tracking tips and herbarium records, they targeted and sampled nine, widely scattered sites of age-old coffeetrees found growing in association with pawpaws, blue ash, chinquapin oaks and hackberries along river and creek bottoms—and, even more rarely, on a few ridge tops. They’ve got a 600-pound haul of seedpods to show for their efforts. One of their discoveries, in Griffith Woods in Harrison County, Kentucky, measured an impressive 120’ tall, which Schmitz nominated for Kentucky state champion status. Official recognition was granted earlier this month.

Kentucky coffeetrees comprise a very small percentage of the woody flora throughout their native range from central Ohio west to central Oklahoma and from Iowa to northern Arkansas. The Brenton Arboretum (where Schmitz is Director of Horticulture) and the National Plant Germplasm System (where Carstens is Woody Landscape Plants Interim Curator) are teaming up to preserve the coffeetree’s genetic diversity. In the near future, the Brenton Arboretum, in Dallas Center, Iowa, will have the largest, living collection of this increasingly rare wild species.

Andy Schmitz with state champion Kentucky coffeetree.

In addition to the living collection at the Brenton Arboretum, seeds of Kentucky coffeetree are being deposited with the North Central Regional Plant Introduction Station (NCRPIS) seed bank in Ames, Iowa. The Plant Introduction station is part of the National Plant Germplasm System that strives to conserve diverse plant genetic resources, provide them for research purposes, and encourage their utilization.

The Kentucky coffeetree has barely kept up with the times. Author and woody plant aficionado Mike Dirr called the species one of his “top noble trees,” but that wasn’t enough to resuscitate landscape interest in a forsaken species. Schmitz and Carstens are re-booting Kentucky the coffeetree, sampling and characterizing populations to better understand the variation that may be useful for ornamental landscapes, as well as to conserve genetic diversity.

Distribution of Kentucky coffeetree

Gymnocladus dioicus had its last heyday in the Pleistocene epoch, when large herbivores roamed North America. Mastodons and rhinos gnashed on hard seedpods to reach the sticky pulp and seeds. These beasts lumbered along while digestive enzymes worked magic, breaking down seed germination inhibitors. The seeds, excreted in a pile of dung, eventually germinated and the future of the species was ensured.

That doesn’t happen anymore. It remains questionable whether existing wild and/or domesticated animals eat these seeds. Now trees grow near where seeds drop, as seeds aren’t moved the distances that mastodons and rhinos might have traveled. When seeds do germinate in the wild, often two or three years’ time is required to break their hard, physical dormancy.

Though poisonous to humans when eaten raw raw, native Americans used roasted seed for nourishment. And early Kentucky settlers brewed a crude coffee substitute that probably tasted no better than a pot of three-day-old truck stop java. The frontier brew didn’t catch on. There are, however, very good reasons, why the tree is coming out of shadows for its valuable landscape potential.

The Kentucky coffeetree Gymnocladus dioicus is durable, easy-to-grow, cold-hardy to Zone 4, and tolerant of salt and pollution. The foliage has magnificent deep green bipinnately compound leaves. Other notable ornamental qualities include yellow fall color and coarse-textured bark, plus the decorative, dark brown seedpods. Its adaptability to urban conditions, alkaline soils and drought, with no serious insect or disease problems, make it a strong contender to replace ash trees decimated by the emerald ash borer and oaks afflicted by oak wilt.

The coffeetree, along with hickories, is one of the last native Kentucky trees to leaf out, and it drops its leaves early. The Greek gymno cladus translates to naked branches, an honest description of the tree’s bare but stylish silhouette for nearly six months of the year. The hard pods on female trees persist throughout the winter, offering a visual key to identification. The large dark brown, leguminous “megafaunal fruit” look like an attractive small version of the seedpods of the tropical Royal Poinciana.

Kentucky coffeetree seedpod. Schmitz and Carstens photo

Though I love the seedpods, many might prefer a seedless male clone for landscape use. Gymnocladus dioicus ‘Espresso-JFS’ Espresso™ is in the trade and you might have to do your own plant hunting to locate the scarcer cultivars – ‘Kentucky Colonel’ and ‘J.C. McDaniel’ Prairie Titan®.

Schmitz envisions a renaissance Brenton Arboretum collection of 80 or 90 trees from across its native range. The American Public Gardens Association, with high standards for collection management, is the arbiter of the North American Plant Collections Consortium. “If we could be on this list, it would set us apart,” Schmitz said.

The Brenton Arboretum would be open to researchers interested in studying Kentucky coffeetrees from documented provenance accessions. Should some of the remaining wild populations disappear, where these collections have been made, seed-banked material at the NCRPIS station could be utilized to restore areas with locally adapted Gymnocladus.

Andy Schmitz likes adventure. “I wouldn’t mind going to China or India,” he said. “It would be fun to collect over there.” He and Carstens know that in order to know what’s out there, you have to go out there. But you don’t have to go far afield. “There are lots of rare plants in our backyard,” Schmitz said. But it takes extraordinary hard work and commitment to promote and preserve them.

Frogs—the horror! by Elizabeth Licata

2013-04-08T11:23:06Z

Frog courtesy of Shutterstock

“I’m petrified of the little creatures,” said Marinaccio, 65.

Today’s headline story (online) of the Buffalo News caught my eye. It’s the strangest I’ve seen there for some time.

The basis of a landowner’s suit against a local developer and the town of Clarence, N.Y., where he lives, is that most of his 40-acre property has become a wetland inhabited mainly by frogs. The developer has diverted subdivision water run-off onto Paul Marinaccio’s property for over ten years. A ditch originally meant for the run-off wasn’t nearly big enough, so the developer kept on diverting water, eventually creating a 30-acre swamp. Frogs are everywhere. Marinaccio says he can’t even get into his own garage unless they are shooed away by someone else, usually his daughter. A less bizarre feature of the case is that he’s also prevented from using the land to build other homes, as he had originally planned.

I know the sound of frogs are generally considered a welcome sign of spring, and that wetlands are supposed to be a good thing, but I can’t really blame this guy for freaking out. And, of course, I have to assume gardening or growing any kind of crop would be out of the question. This is why I don’t live in the country—or exurbs, as this part of Western New York would more accurately be called. Too many strange problems I’d never be able to deal with. The occasional loud/littering drunk I can handle. I’m not afraid of frogs but I don’t know how I’d feel about having them hopping all over the place on a continual basis.

Apparently, Marinaccio plans to install a herd of cows once the land is dry.

Blossom-less FDR Memorial delights. MLK Memorial just looks sad. by Susan Harris

2013-04-05T17:27:53Z

The memorial to FDR has been a local favorite since it opened in 1997, and yesterday it was the first stop on my cherry blossom tour via bicycle. (You can get your own bike there via subway or rent one when you get downtown.) But like thousands of other tourists, I was sorry to see no cherries blooming at all, thanks to our super-cool spring and the perennial unreliability of cherry tree blooms.

But guess what. The lack of blooms focused my eyes and camera on something else – the humans, of which there were plenty, though thankfully not the hoards that will be there this weekend.

What struck me at the FDR was first, how beautiful it is every day of the year, and how much it engages the visitor, as evidenced by these snapshots. (Above, notice that FDR’s finger and the dog’s ears are rubbed golden by admirers.) It’s all thanks to the brilliant design by landscape architect Lawrence Halprin, considered one of the world’s best. (I love this article from the ASLA about how the memorial came to be.)

Touching is encouraged.

Life-size statues are great for photos, especially this wonderful, controversial one of FDR in a wheel chair. It was added years after the memorial opened after pressure from disability rights groups. (Celebrity tidbit: Actress Angelica Huston was sighted at review meetings for this statue, made by her late husband Robert Graham.)

Including the image of a spouse is a unique feature to this memorial and it’s proven to be popular, too. Here, girls from a visiting school group joined Eleanor for a nice memory. I do wish she didn’t look so glum.

This is one of six fountains in the 7.5-acre memorial and people were lined up to play and pose with it.

Just next door to the FDR as you walk along the blossom-less Tidal Basin is the memorial to Martin Luther King, which opened in 2011. See the interaction between the visitors and the man and his story? Me, neither.

This photo is typical of what I observed at the memorial. It’s no wonder people aren’t engaged – there’s nothing here but one giant, grim statue of King, two more large masses of stone, and wall after wall of text. There’s no way to see King up close, to touch him or be photographed with him or to amble through the telling of his story.

That’s the sad reality of memorials in the hail-the-dictator style. For King of all people, this memorial seems so cold, so sad. (I have hopes for a more engaging telling of King’s story by the Museum of African American History and Culture, now under construction.)

Biking eastward along the Mall, I found a few floral displays.

Hellebores in the Bartholdi Garden, part of the USBG

Tulip Magnolias at the Air and Space Museum.

This Week in Drunken Botanist Tour Dates, and I’m Ready for Some Tequila by Amy Stewart

2013-03-01T21:06:27Z

And on it goes! All Drunken Botanist tour dates are listed here, but this is what I’ve got going on this week. Please do check details with the venue before heading out. And then–please do head out! I’d love to see you. And you. All of you, really.

April 06 2013 05:00 PM — Eureka Theater Book Launch Party, Eureka, CA
5 PM: Lecture & slide show in the theater. 6-9 PM: Drinks served, book signing. The event is free; drink sales benefit the restoration of the historic Eureka Theater. A partnership with Eureka Books.

April 08 2013 07:00 PM — The Bookstall, Winnetka, IL
Drunken Botanist book tour

April 09 2013 11:30 AM — The Standard Club of Chicago, Chicago, IL
A Lunch & Learn member event in partnership with The Book Stall. 11:30 reception, noon luncheon & discussion.

April 09 2013 07:00 PM — Anderson’s Bookshop, Naperville, IL
A Drunken Botanist party with an assortment of cocktail-friendly plants from The Growing Place garden center and a tasting of Koval Distillery‘s floral liqueurs and botanical spirits.

April 11 2013 07:30 PM — Magers & Quinn, Minneapolis, MN

And now–tequila? Did someone say tequila?

I share with you another of the plant collections I put together with Log House Plants and Territorial Seed Company. Territorial sells the plants and seeds online, and Log House, a wholesale grower, ships them to garden centers on the West Coast.

This was an easy one to put together–the Heart of Agave Tequila Garden. We included sage, pepper, watermelon, rosemary, and mint–and this time we chose a mint called ‘Margarita.’ But wait–margaritas don’t have mint in them! Don’t let that stop you. It’s a very pretty, lemony mint that is not as aggressive as most mints (your mileage may vary) and worth growing.

Read about the whole collection here, but meanwhile, here’s a tequila cocktail to get you through the week.

Agave Piña

1.5 oz 100% agave tequila

2 oz pineapple juice (fresh if possible)

.5 oz agave nectar or simple syrup

2-3 fresh jalapeño slices

2-3 sage leaves

½ small lime

Optional: Club soda or lemon-lime soda

Squeeze lime into cocktail shaker and add other ingredients. Muddle sage leaves and peppers to release the flavors. Shake well over ice and strain into a cocktail glass.

Optional variation: Pour into a tall, skinny Collins glass over ice and top with soda to taste.

Armitage makes an app by Elizabeth Licata

2013-04-02T14:06:06Z

In the early days of the iPhone, we were ravening for gardening apps. After a while though, the craving just seemed to go away. I have several theories on that. It could be that our devices have become so essential to the tasks of multi-level communication, social media, mapping, and other things we do every single day, the other stuff just fell away. I have dozens of apps on my iPhone, but the only ones I ever seem to use daily are mail, phone, HootSuite, Facebook, and weather. A secondary group—Open Table, Yelp, Epi, and Public Radio—comes into play when I am traveling, cooking, or listening to the radio outside. There are a few others I use now and then, but it’s a tiny slice of what’s out there.

The world of gardening apps is changing, however. With ebooks and readers in common use, it makes sense that reference apps can either replace or supplement list-format garden books. And they are. A couple weeks back, Amy reviewed Susan Morrison’s Foolproof Plants for Small Gardens, which Morrison says started out as an ebook. And now we have Allan Armitage’s Great Perennials and Annuals, which seems to be a narrowed-down selection of some his favorite plants for a variety of situations.

As it happens, Morrison and Armitage used the same app-development software, Sutra-Media, so the two apps are remarkably similar in look and structure. They’re databases of plants that can be searched using various filters. Armitage’s filters include Annuals for Shade, Plants grown for Flowers, North American Natives, and Weird and Wonderful, to name a few. The format is simple and workable, and the prose is pure Armitage—for example, his intro to the North American natives begins, “Let’s enjoy them, not argue about them.” The app is also loaded with gorgeous photography.

The only complaint anyone could have with Armitage’s app—and it’s the same voiced in a comment on the Morrison post—is that the selection is too small for true lovers of plant porn, especially someone who, like me, keeps Armitage’s massive Herbaceous Perennial Plants in a permanent spot on the coffee table. There are still a lot of plants here though, and the app is an enjoyable read, whether you’re in the garden or killing time between tweets. As Armitage said when I asked about this, “I would love to do the entire book, with a robust search engine, but these are my choices for good plants, and the app can be updated over time.” And that’s the beauty of an app. You can add to it. Here are a couple of choice quotes from the Armitage app.

On columbines: While large gaudy flowers appear to be the norm, one of my favorites has always been the delightful red and yellow flowers of the Canadian columbine. Just like citizens of that fine neighbor, the plants are quiet, conservative and do their job without bluster.

On rudbeckia: Goldsturm originated in 1937 at Foerster’s Nursery in Germany, and that it is still going strong in the 21^st century says volumes about its popularity. I admit I am tired of seeing this thing in every garden and gas station in the country, but I am equally pleased that a plant with this much beauty could please so many people who would otherwise have planted five plastic geraniums and still watched them die.

There are also some extras, including a bio, videos, and a few other resources, but the plant database is the thing.

If you don’t yet have one of Armitage’s books, especially Herbaceous Perennial Plants or Armitage’s Garden Perennials, this app will not replace them. But for five bucks, here’s a healthy dose of the Armitage knowledge, wit, and charm for your phone or iPad.

Lunch with Barbara Damrosch by Susan Harris

2013-03-29T11:00:31Z

I was reluctant to make the schlep into D.C. to attend DC’s Home and Garden Show, which (like HGTV) deserves a silent G for its dearth of garden vendors. But the show DID have the good sense to book a talk by someone I’d wanted to meet for a long time – writer/farmer Barbara Damrosch, whose Garden Primer we’ve raved about here. (And we loved this New York Times profile of Barbara and husband Eliot Coleman’s Four Season Farm in Maine.)

Barbara was just coming off six weeks of traveling to promote their Four Season Farm Gardeners Cookbook, out this year. Over convention-center food, she patiently cited the basics of her bio (studying medieval lit, teaching college English, writing for the Village Voice and others, doing garden design professionally before settling down to farm – and write about gardening).

All of which I could have learned on my own if I’d been a better prepared blogger. Preparation might have also included reading one or two her Cook’s Garden columns in my local paper, or knowing anything at all about growing food. Or cooking food.

But I can ask about issues important to Garden Rant readers, like: Did she and Eliot notice that he was the consensus winner of our Sexiest Man in Gardening contest way back in 2006? (Here, here and here.) Yes indeedy they did and read the commentary aloud in the staff lunchroom to great hilarity.

More Damrosch News and Insights over Bad Lunch Food

Four Seasons Farm isn’t a hobby; it’s a working organic veg farm with a seasonal crew of 6 or 7, regular restaurant and store customers, and a farm stand. Demand has always been “gigantic” for what they produce.
To New Englanders, she’s a former TV personality, having hosted the regional segments of “Victory Garden” and her own show with Elliot, “Growing Naturally.”
Eliot’s even more of a Renaissance man than we’d imagine. He’s a professional tool designer (currently for Johnny’s Seeds), working to provide small farmers with tools larger than hoes but smaller than combines, among other projects. And before he caught the farming bug he was a “semi-pro adventurer” whose talents include white-water kayak racing, skiing and rock climbing.
Does she grow ornamentals, too? Absolutely. They grow flowers that turn into bouquets for sale, and it was important to her to create a environment around the home, too.
The Maine Organic Farmers and Gardeners Association is humongous (6,000+ members, the largest such group in the U.S.) and Barbara is on their board of directors. Click to see some real gardeners, y’all – Maine farmers!
She is NOT a vegetarian. (People must just assume that she is – like I did when I mentioned the veg offerings at the convention center – because I notice her bio ends with that disclaimer. Got it!)
A regular reader of the Rant, she’s no stranger to ranting herself. (Something I’d know if I read her column.) Primary rant targets include GMOs and assertions that organic farming can’t feed the planet (which makes her nuts!)

But for me, the big take-away from lunching with this warm and savvy woman was how young she seems, despite facing the big 7-0 this year. (And get this – Eliot’s 74!) Aging-while-gardening is a big issue for me so I listened up when she described her long work days, even long days of physical work, with apparently no injuries. So, what’s her work-out routine? Just gardening, which she says has kept her “young, though not as strong.” So except for not being able to lift as much poundage as she used to, she hasn’t slowed down at all.

Let no one be misled by her petite and pretty appearance; this lady’s a farmer.

Drunken Botanist Pacific Northwest Dates, And Rum Drinks for Everyone! by Amy Stewart

2013-03-01T21:05:09Z

If you’re in Portland, Seattle, or Bellingham, I’d love to see you this week. All the tour dates are online here, but this week’s stops include:

March 27 2013 07:30 PM — Powell’s (Burnside location), Portland, OR
With a special appearance by House Spirits Distillery‘s Christian Krogstad, who will talk about the botanical nature of his delightful Aviation Gin, and a selection of cocktail-friendly plants from Cornell Farm.

March 28 2013 07:00 PM — Third Place Books, Lake Forest Park, Seattle, WA
A talk about The Drunken Botanist, plus cocktail-friendly plants from Molbak’s Garden & Home.

March 29 2013 07:00 PM — Village Books, Bellingham, WA
A talk about The Drunken Botanist accompanied by cocktail-friendly plants from Christianson’s Nursery.

As always, check with the venue before heading out to confirm dates/times.

And now! This week in cocktail gardening–rum! Funny story–when the nice people at Log House Plants and I were trying to figure out what to call a collection of plants that mix well with rum, the first idea that came to my mind was to call it the Old Havana Rum Garden. Every word sounded so perfect–Havana. Rum. Old. Garden. Yeeeeesssssssss.

But there was one problem! One of the plants in the collection was going to be lemongrass, and a few people thought lemongrass didn’t sound very Cuban and the name should be rejected on that basis.

Well, you know I’m always up for a fact-checking challenge. So I dove into newspaper archives and came up with interviews with actual Cuban farmers in which they named lemongrass as one of the crops they grew.

Done! On that basis, the name stayed. So in addition to lemongrass, the other plants are strawberry, ‘Mojito’ mint, and lemon verbena.

You’re probably thinking, “What about citrus? Where’s the lime?” Good question! One of the tricky bits about putting these collections together is that we were assembling jumbo six-packs, not gallon pots. So everything had to (a) work with a particular spirit, and (b) grow well in a six-pack. So yeah, no citrus.

There’s an interesting story about the mint, as told by the wonderful plant nursery Richters here. This is the actual strain of spearmint grown in Cuba for mojitos, and the only reason it’s available now in the nursery trade is that intrepid Canadian tourists pulled the sprigs out of their mojitos and stuck them in their pockets. Now you, too, can grow actual Havana mint. (Territorial’s got it here, and this whole plant collection is in West Coast garden centers).

Okay! Your rum cocktail is:

Lemongrass Mojito

1.5 oz white rum

.5 oz lemongrass simple syrup

¼ lime

3-4 sprigs ‘Mojito’ mint or another spearmint

1 stick lemongrass

4-6 oz club soda

Crushed ice

Reserve one sprig of mint for garnish. Make simple syrup by heating equal parts sugar and water until the sugar melts, then add the lemongrass allow to cool and steep for one hour.

Combine rum, simple syrup, mint, and lemongrass in a cocktail shaker, then squeeze lime juice into shaker and drop the lime in. Using a muddler or a wooden spoon, gently crush all ingredients to release the flavors. Add ice and shake thoroughly, then strain into a glass of crushed ice. Top with club soda and garnish with mint.

It’s not too late by Elizabeth Licata

2013-03-25T16:11:35Z

You can still register for this year’s bloggers’ get-together. The sixth annual Garden Bloggers Fling in San Francisco happens June 28-30; its itinerary includes tours of private gardens (a sample above), tours of public spaces like Filoli and the Conservatory of Flowers, a photography workshop with Saxon Holt, and much more—including, of course the rare opportunity to socialize with fellow bloggers from across the country and beyond.

No seminars, no ceremonies—just gardens, food, drink, and fun.

I’ll be there; hope to see many of you!

This is what winter looks like by Elizabeth Licata

2013-03-25T16:09:52Z

It’s cold, it’s dreary, and it seems like it will last forever. At least, that’s the reality if you live in the mid-Atlantic, Midwest, and Northeastern zones, as many of us do. It doesn’t bother me much—I’ve lived and gardened through many a snowy season. No biggie and ho-hum. But I appreciate a gardening publication that looks cold weather in the eye, as the new issue of Wilder Quarterly seems to.

From the frozen white landscape on the cover to the features on Iceland, calendula hand salve, and wild-gathered cuisine in Sweden, the fifth issue of Wilder looks a cold, still season straight in the eye. There is plenty of nonseasonal matter (including an interview with Mark Bittman) and the usual excellent photography.

Last year, I received the winter issue of Wilder well after the snow and cold had relaxed its grip, and it seemed incongruous. This year I got it just in time to provide a grudging appreciation of winter’s glories—as I was cursing its inexorable presence. There are some bright spots—my outdoor bulbs are pushing up, and I thoughtfully supplied myself with enough indoor hyacinths (as you see above) to last until it finally does warm up.

While I enjoy browsing the summer bulb catalogs as much as anyone, I also appreciate a gardening publication that is meant to be really read—not just looked at—by the fire.

Plea from a Plant-Loving Landscape Architect by Susan Harris

2013-03-29T20:31:11Z

Campus of Princeton University

Michael Van Valkenburgh is one of a few hot-shot landscape architects who’s known for large, high-visibility projects, like his redesign of Pennsylvania Avenue in front of the White House post-9/11. He landed on my radar thanks to that project, which is local to me.

So I was happy to discover his article “Landscapes Over Time” in the latest Landscape Architecture Magazine, in which he pleads with his profession to pay attention to what happens after their designs are installed. Plants change (doh!) and designs need continuing attention, and not just from the mow-blow crew. Van Valkenburgh has seen far too many parks and gardens be created and then left to become shabby, thanks to anemic maintenance budgets and neglect by the original designers, who tend to lose interest soon after the photos are taken.

A prominent exception to that rant is a landscape architect we all know and love – Beatrix Farrand, who served as landscape consultant to Princeton University for many years (a task now performed by Van Valkenburgh). He quotes from Princeton’s website:

Farrand preferred to be called a ‘landscape gardener’—not an architect…. The only woman among the founders of the American Society of Landscape Architects, Farrand [believed that] a living landscape—affected by seasons and the passage of time—requires constant attention. Farrand maintained an ongoing relationship with many clients in order to supervise the changes in her evolving canvas. Several times yearly, she strode through the Princeton Campus looking at every tree and bush and giving specific instructions for pruning, planting, and cultivation.

Van Valkenburgh asserts that “You are much less likely to care about maintenance if you don’t really love plants. And, for me, the most appealing landscape architecture is synonymous with a love of plants.” Like us gardeners, he prefers open spaces with plants in them. But guess what! Many “justly celebrated” contemporary landscape architects don’t know squat about plants (my language), and have to hire horticulturists to select the plants for their designs.*

And lawn-haters will love this: “Plenty of works with plants don’t really embody love of those plants. The classic case, of course, is the American corporate landscape made of sod and trees for the Mow, Blow, and Go approach, designed to require the least possible care. I have never seen a beautiful example of it.”

Respect for the “Horticultural Workers”

More passages I love:

No matter how skilled and artistically inclined horticultural workers are (and they are often extremely talented), they are generally perceived as declasse, left out of design discussions and poorly paid. (Since my parents were farmers, and my father went on to oversee the grounds at a ski slope, I find this perception particularly distasteful.) Heaven forbid that a landscape architect should hang out with them, much less join them, wielding a saw or a hoe, fingernails dirty.

The old name for horticultural worker was gardener, a word that connoted a great deal more dignity in the preindustrial world. Perhaps now with the green movement, the local food movement, and the promotion of urban farming, gardening will be honored more. It needs to be.

And he writes about maintenance workers who’ve found designers to be “snotty and uninterested in their input”. (Reminds me of the tension sometimes found between Master Gardeners, designers and garden writers. Or between psychiatrists, psychologists and social workers. Et cetera through probably every field.)

Gardens not the Same as Nature

I’ll just keep on quoting. “Standing in the way of conceiving landscape architecture as (to a significant degree) gardening is the widespread illusion that designed landscapes can take care of themselves, since, obviously, the woods of Vermont, the plains of Texas, and the shores of Cape Cod can look beautiful without tending. But designed landscapes exist to meet human needs, and pure nature can’t be counted on or asked to do that.” For example, it took an amazing amount of work to make Central Park look so natural.

And he cites a piece of conceptual art that proves his point. One New York artist “put a fence around an abandoned lot, called it Time Landscape, and asked us to reverentially view what nature did with the site.” Not surprisingly to anyone who knows plants, it quickly became an eyesore.

Another view of Princeton.

Change Noted

Van Valkenburgh sees his profession undergoing major changes, like paying more attention to designs over time. But from what I can tell as a follower of the profession and faithful reader of Landscape Architecture Magazine, no field has shifted as quickly to address environmental concerns, and not because they’re more virtuous than anyone else. Civic and other large-scale clients now demand maximum sustainability.

*I’ve corrected my original misreading of the Van Valkenburgh article, which cited Piet Oudolf as a consulting horticulturist for landscape architects, NOT as a landscape architect who consults with horticulturists. Sorry!

Here’s to No-Blow Gardens by Garden Rant

2013-03-21T10:56:51Z

Guest Rant by Evelyn Hadden

Let’s face it, the outdoors is getting noisier, and not in a good way. It used to be that a person could find calm, quiet places even in the city — be it a park, a secluded backyard, or a low-traffic residential street.

But that was before leafblowers.

I know, singling out one type of machine isn’t fair. Mowers and other powered landscaping tools contribute noise too, not to mention the booming bass of our car stereos, planes droning overhead, sirens and car alarms, and of course cell phone ring tones, which can and do interrupt the silence anytime, anywhere. Plus, there are just more people, and that’s going to continue (a rant for another time — watch our worldwide population grow here.

But back to leafblowers. Especially gas-powered ones. I mourn the abandonment of rakes and brooms in favor of small engines that has led to noisier, more polluted landscapes. I’m not alone. Leafblowers are already banned in some cities and are being considered for bans in others. (1)

Though there are some situations in which they may be the best tool for the job, in my opinion their widespread use should be curbed for the good of us all. Let’s break it down.

plants

A leafblower’s very reason for being is to remove fallen leaves. This isn’t always healthy for your plants. Though lawns cannot survive under a layer of leaves, other plants (especially trees and woodland plants) will thrive with an undisturbed layer of leaf litter, which protects roots, fosters soil life, and is decomposed into nutrients that feed the plants.

animals

Leafblowers interfere with animals’ ability to communicate with each other in order to find mates, hunt, and avoid predators. (2) Removing leaf litter destroys the habitat of many beneficial and beautiful insects. (3)

soil

Leafblowers blow away not just leaves but topsoil, exposing the ground to further erosion and colonization by wind-blown weed seeds. Blasts of hot, dry air (and the removal of protective organic matter on top of the soil) destroy the top layer of soil microbial life, which is the most active in powering the soil food web. (4)

humans

Leafblowers threaten our hearing. Operators (and anyone who happens to pass within 50 feet) who don’t wear ear protection risk hearing damage. (5)

They cause damage to our lungs (again, not just the operators of the machinery are affected), polluting the air and exacerbating allergies. The American Lung Association recommends avoiding gas-powered leafblowers for your health. (6)

This air pollution comes from the dust they stir up; particulate matter is a recognized pollutant on its own, and it also may contain pollens, animal feces, landscape chemicals, lead, mold spores, and other contaminants that are unhealthy for us to breathe.

Additional pollution comes from their exhaust fumes, spewing out carbon monoxide, nitrogen oxides, and hydrocarbons (CO, NOx, and HC) at levels greater than automobiles. (7)

Last but certainly not least, they shatter our peace. Exposure to noise can interrupt sleep, depress our immune systems, increase anxiety and hostility, lower our productivity, aggravate heart disease, cause gastrointestinal distress, increase birth defects, and reduce cognitive development in children. (8)

Supposedly, leafblowers make landscaping tasks easier. Experiments comparing them to rakes show that’s debatable (9). Even if it were true, is avoiding the rake or broom really worth the negative consequences?

Sweeping walkways and raking leaves can be healthy and pleasant outdoor activities that afford moderate exercise. This exercise is free and you can do it with the whole family. While you’re at it, you can breathe the fresh air (rather than wearing a mask), converse and listen to birds and crickets (rather than wearing ear protection), and generally glory in the natural beauty of your garden.

Though in some cases, a leafblower may be the only effective tool — say, removing fallen leaves from a cactus garden or grooming a gravel walkway in a public park — using a rake or broom to maintain a modest-sized home landscape is healthier for the plants and animals, more considerate of your neighbors, and healthier for them and you as well.

What do you think of leafblowers: friend or foe?

- – - – -

Notes:

(1) Leafblowers have been illegal in LA for over a decade; video with Ed Begley Jr.

(2) Urban noise has a negative effect on wildlife in general.

(3) Meet some of the insects that overwinter in fallen leaves.

(4) Travis Beck’s recent book Principles of Ecological Landscape Design explains how to support and nurture soil life (the key to healthy plants).

(5) Leafblowers emit 65 to 75 decibels of noise at 50 feet, close to 100 decibels for the operator. Noise levels higher than 85 decibels carry a significant risk of hearing damage. A report sponsored by the World Health Organization recommends ambient outdoor noise levels of no more than 55 db.

(6) Number 8 in the American Lung Association’s “Top 10 Ways to Protect Your Lungs” is foregoing leafblowers and other gas-powered landscaping tools.

(7) Summary of the California EPA study of leafblower-caused air pollution.

(8) Read about the various health risks of exposure to noise. For much more detail about human health effects, download this 60-page PDF from the California Air and Resources Board.

(9) The Los Angeles Department of Power and Water conducted tests pitting a grandma with a rake against a pro with a leafblower. A landscaping company conducted its own test, which led it to choose rakes over leafblowers.

Drunken Botanist West Coast Tour, And it’s Vodka Week! by Amy Stewart

2013-03-01T21:04:25Z

Vodka week? Isn’t every week vodka week?

Yeah, well. I’m still hanging out on the West Coast, so if you’re in the neighborhood, I hope you’ll drop by. Complete list of tour dates can be found here, and please do check with the venue before heading out in case of last-minute changes.

March 21 2013 07:30 PM — Capitola Book Cafe, Capitola, CA

March 22 2013 07:00 PM — Rakestraw Books, Danville, CA

March 23 2013 10:45 AM — San Francisco Flower & Garden Show, San Mateo, CA

March 24 2013 05:30 PM — Book Passage, Corte Madera, CA

March 25 2013 07:00 PM — Vroman’s, Pasadena, CA

And now — vodka week! So, to continue with what I suppose is becoming a multi-part series on this Drunken Botanist Plant Collection thing I’ve got going with Territorial and Log House Plants, (Territorial selling the plants online and Log House shipping them to garden centers and grocery stores on the West Coast), I present to you our Farmers Market Vodka Garden.

Coming up with names for these collections was one challenge. Some were immediately obvious (as you’ll see in coming weeks) and some were a bit more tricky. There’s something about the word “vodka” that just doesn’t go with gardens. But as I was thinking about it, I realized that vodka is really the farmer’s best friend. You can make vodka out of anything–not just potatoes, but also corn, wheat, barley, grapes, apples–basically, anything that contains starch or sugar. It’s a pretty efficient way to use up the surplus crop.

And–what mixes with vodka? Everything! If you can buy it at the farmer’s market, you can mix it with vodka and have a pretty nice drink.

The collection includes tomatoes, peppers, cilantro, and celery. Go here to read all about it. I just want to say a word about the celery–It would never have occurred to me to plant celery in my garden. I just don’t use it that much. But once I tried it, I found out that I’d been crazy not grow it before. I used it in everything: soups, salads, all kinds of dishes that could be improved by celery if only I had some on hand. I rarely bother to go buy one of those jumbo bundles of enormous green celery at the grocery store (because I know I won’t use it all), but having a little on hand that I could snip whenever I wanted it? Amazing. And of course, I used it in drinks.

The celery I have fallen in love with is ‘Redventure,’ a cross between an heirloom strain called ‘Giant Red’ and a popular commercial variety called ‘Ventura.’ Crossing those two resulted in a celery with slender red stems about the diameter of a pencil—perfect for swizzle sticks. And it’s got a rich, strong celery flavor that’s bold enough for cocktails. I love the color, I love the flavor, and I love that it’s a total year-round crop here in California. They do bolt after a year or so, so you have to cut down the flowering central stalk and eventually replant them, but it’s totally worth it.

Okay! So here’s a drink.

The Farmers Market

1.5 oz vodka (Try Glacier Potato Vodka from Idaho)

2-3 ‘Mexican Sour Gherkin’ cucumbers

1-2 stalks ‘Red Venture’ celery

2-3 sprigs cilantro

2-3 slices small spicy or mild peppers

6 cherry tomatoes or 1-2 slices large tomato

Dash of Worcestershire sauce (try Annie’s for a vegetarian version)

3-4 oz Q or Fever Tree tonic water

Reserve a celery stalk, cherry tomato, or cucumber for garnish. Combine all ingredients except the tonic water in a cocktail shaker and gently crush the vegetables and herbs, making sure to release the tomato juice. Shake with ice and strain into a tumbler filled with ice. Top with tonic water and add garnish.

Bluestone says good riddance by Elizabeth Licata

2013-03-19T11:51:52Z

Pot image by Shutterstock

To plastic pots, that is. According to a press release I just got, Bluestone is the first perennial nursery to completely replace plastic growing pots with biodegradable media. I wish more nurseries would do this. I rather enjoy stepping on root-bound perennials in plastic pots before prying them out, but then there are all the black plastic pots of varying sizes taking up space in my recycling bin. Some I have been able to reuse as filler to lighten container plantings, but most get thrown the bin—and who knows what really happens to them? (Many of my friends firmly believe that the recycling trash and the regular trash end up in the same landfill.)

Also, according to the release, the plants can be kept in their coir pots and planted as is. This makes for a gentler transition—sort of like keeping fish in their little baggie until the water temperatures are the same. Except that the coir pots dissolve into the soil with time (unlike baggies in water).

I’ve tried the little cow pots for vegetable seedlings before, and I regularly see herbs offered in biodegradable paper containers, but perennials generally come in black or green plastic. The thing with Bluestone, however, is that their plants are small. They’re fine if you’re starting a new bed, but when surrounded by other large established, perennials, they struggle.

And I saw some interesting comments on these online, on the Gardenweb forums (which I rarely check, but google revealed quite a discussion about coir over there). One thread—titled “Bluestone Perennials has lost their minds!” —was filled with complaints about plants arriving in a tangle of spilled dirt. The company is no longer styrofoam peanuts either, which sounds like a good thing to me, but apparently some of the GW posters liked them. I have noticed that rolled up newspaper, used by a few companies, works just as well.

Forums like GW are kind of like Trip Advisor; you have to take the opinions with a big grain of salt and sort of average them out.

As for coir pots—how about them? Seems like a step in the right direction to me, especially if it means other nurseries will think more about plastic pot alternatives.

Bugger Off, Stink Bugs by Allen Bush

2013-03-18T13:50:07Z

Photo by Tracy Leskey of the Appalachian Fruit Research Station

Armadillos have reached southern Kentucky, while the Asian longhorn beetle is poised just across the Ohio River in southern Ohio. Both are on the march to Louisville. The brown marmorated stink bug (BMSB) got here first.

Armadillos (possums on the half-shell) root around like feral hogs and make a mess of gardens. The Asian longhorned beetle (ALB) works above ground. ALB is a more looming menace to a wider diversity of trees than the emerald ash borer. Emerald ash borer reached Louisville in 2010 after launching a take-no-prisoners offensive from Canton, MI, where it was first discovered in 2002. EAB, a picky Asian monovore, takes out nearly every one of the six Eastern North American ash species within its reach.

It is frightening to think what the ALB might do with its hunger for maples, willows, birches, cherries, buckeyes, sycamores, elms and ashes—as if ashes didn’t have it bad enough already. Estimated losses of more than a billion trees been have projected from the ALB, although eradication in affected areas may slow the spread.

Yet armadillos and the Asian longhorned beetle remain abstract threats. (Well, I haven’t seen them, yet.) And as long as you don’t have porous soffits or leave the windows or doors open, you won’t have to worry about a home invasion of either of these, when they do arrive.

But BMSB has become a nuisance—inside and out—in over 39 states since it was first discovered in Allentown, PA, in 1998. It is suspected the highly mobile bug hitched a ride into the U.S., a few years earlier, on Asian wooden pallets that were not kiln dried.

BMSB spends six months indoors and makes itself at home after forcing entry. If you have a staff like Downton Abbey’s, you’ll never be bothered. But if you are your own manservant, you’ll be called upon to vacuum the little buggers off the walls at home when the stink bugs appear from nowhere. Vacuuming is the prescribed method for elimination (insert a pair of panty hose inside the vacuum bag, and immediately dispose of it after vacuuming ). You don’t want to swat the bugs and end up with your modest abbey smelling like skunky cilantro.

Leslie Bulion, who wrote And Hey There, Stink Bug, a charming collection of children’s poems about insects, probably never met the BMSB.

There are at least ten native American stink bugs, though Cynthia Westcott’s 687-page classic, The Gardener’s Bug Book, Fourth Edition (1972), devotes barely a page to ten of the homegrown stinkers. Native stink bugs are a pest kept in balance by natural predators, but BMSB currently has free rein.

BMSB is lingering around homes in Kentucky, just waiting to assault farms and gardens in the next few weeks. Ric Bessin, Extension Entomologist with the University of Kentucky, says, “BMSB won’t eliminate species, but when we have these outbreak populations, the damage to crops like peaches, sweet corn, apples, tomatoes is substantial. It’s not that plants don’t yield well, but BMSB badly affects the quality and yield. There is not a single field crop in Kentucky that is not affected.”

An Asian predator, waiting in the wings, is currently in U.S. quarantine pending environmental risk assessment on its possible introduction. Bessin went on to say, “It’s not just a matter of going to Asia, collecting them and introducing them. It takes years of study on the wasp parasitoids to determine whether they will be a threat to beneficial insects before submitting data to USDA’s Animal Plant and Inspection Station.”

Photo…Rutgers – New Jersey Agricultural Experiment Station

Finally, Bessin struck a hopeful tone, “The world is not going to end when these things come in, but we are going to have to adapt.”

Meanwhile, armadillos and the Asian longhorned beetle are within striking distance of Louisville, but it’s not all bad. The winter’s been mild and there have been plenty of early blooms on snowdrops, crocus, narcissus, witch hazels and hellebores.

Best of all, last month’s monster meteorite landed in a Siberian lake, not down the street in Louisville.

Susan Morrison’s Incredibly Cool New Garden App by Amy Stewart

2013-03-12T03:21:58Z

We here at GardenRant World Headquarters have not had much luck with gardening apps so far. They seemed so bright and shiny and new and full of promise at first, but then–meh. The thrill faded quickly, and I didn’t have a single garden app on my iPhone when Susan Morrison told me about her new app, Foolproof Plants for Small Gardens. (here’s the Android version)

Well, folks, this app has managed to stay on my phone for a full month. It’s well-made, well-written, and well worth $2.99. Go get it.

And here’s Susan, answering some questions about the app:

First of all, why this topic? What is it about small gardens that makes them trickier to pick plants for?

I know from my own design practice and via conversations with designers and gardeners around the country that interest in small plants is universal. Not only are gardens getting smaller as lot sizes shrink, but even large gardens have smaller beds and spaces within them. Most recognizable, popular plants – think camellias, hydrangeas, loropetalums—have 50 large cultivars for every small one that stays less than four or five feet. Even experienced gardeners usually lack the time and resources to identify the dwarf cultivars and less well-known options that are available, particularly when trying to fill an entire garden. And folks that want an attractive garden but aren’t interested in taking up gardening as a hobby have very few easy-to-navigate, inexpensive resources for helping with plant selection if their landscape is small.

There’s a lot of talk about the future of garden reference books in light of digital media. Anytime you’re doing a directory of plants, it just lends itself to a database format. And tablets make viewing the photographs an amazing experience. But–what made you decide to do this as an app as opposed to an e-book?

This concept actually started out as an e-book series with 5 USDA zone-specific books. I will probably still introduce them in that format, as not everyone wants to read about plants on a smart phone or an iPad. Before I committed to the project, the publisher essentially said the only reason to bring out Foolproof Plants as an app is if it offers something that other formats can’t. And I think it does: A much more robust search function than an ebook, an interactive component where readers can ask questions within the app itself, the ability for me to update content that is free for existing app owners, significantly more photos, an audio pronunciation guide of the botanical names, and (mostly) curated links to online nurseries, how-to videos and articles that provide more information on specific plants and techniques.

FYI, I entered a lot of the data over the Christmas holidays and think I might have gotten a little punchy towards the end. Just for fun, I included an Easter egg in one of the plant pronunciations. I’m one of those people that will sit through the movie credits in hopes the producers added an extra scene at the end, so I’m curious to see if anyone finds my own little joke.

I’m probably answering my own question here, but one thing that’s interesting about having this in an app format is that it can be updated. Do you see yourself continuing to add plants, or making updates to the photos, growing tips, etc.?

Yes, to a point. I put the app out faster than I wanted to so that I could introduce it at the Northwest Flower and Garden show, and still have about 10 plants to add that Maria Zampini, one of my expert contributors, has written for zone 5 and 6 gardeners. I’d also like to add a companion plant feature, to help users combine the plants effectively. But truthfully, how much or how often I update will depend in part on how well the app sells, as I’ll need to justify the time.

It’s also interesting that people can post comments. The comments are all subject to moderation, but presumably, over time, I could scroll through a bunch of reader comments about the plants, and you could answer questions. On one hand, this is incredibly cool, but on the other hand, are you worried that you’re going to have to get into long debates over whether this or that plant is invasive, or otherwise get sucked into whatever weird, off-the-wall conversations people want to have about Ajuga reptans or whatever?

You know, I did not even think about that possibility until I read your question! Most questions have been reasonable and easy to answer, such as what plants do I recommend for clay soil, so am hoping this aspect of the app will stay manageable. I would love it if people left comments about their own experiences, good or bad, or recommended other cultivars. I have the ability to screen comments but so far have let all of them through, other than a series of comments in Farsi that roughly translate into variations on the word Hallelujah.

You used a service to build this app– Sutro Media. One of the challenges of making an app has been the programming, but we all knew that it would get easier, just like making websites got easier. There are quite a few build-your-own-app companies now. In Sutro’s case, it looks like they have to accept you – so what was this process like, and what would you say to someone else who was thinking of doing an app like this?

Sutro Media has an easy-to-navigate content management system (CMS) so you do not need any programming skills, however, there is very little flexibility in how content is displayed or organized. For example, some folks have been disappointed that they can’t filter multiple categories together, like drought tolerant shrubs with white flowers for zone 8. That would really kick the app up to the next level, but it can’t be done with this platform. Sutro Media’s niche until now has been travel guides and I know they are interested in expanding into other categories, including gardening. They approached me directly about producing an app with them, but I’m sure they would be open to any garden writer that contacted them with a good idea. They do not demand that the content be exclusive, only that the app version be appropriate for the platform’s unique capabilities, so for anyone who has already developed solid content for a different venue, an app might make sense.

Since you’re a landscape designer, do you see yourself using this app with your clients in some way?

Absolutely, and I already know based on the comments and emails I’m getting that plenty of designers are buying it. It’s an incredibly handy resource for showing clients potential plants in the field, plus we designers love curated plant lists geared for specific situations. I would snap up an app like this from another designer or garden professional that addressed some specific plant category, like deer-resistance or high-performance roses.

The photos are fabulous, and I can see that you took some of them and other photographers took some. The app has this interesting feature that allows you to use other people’s photos and link back to them (with permission and/or appropriate licensing, of course). So I clicked on one photo and went right to the photographer’s Flickr page within the app. That’s a really cool idea. Any comments about the photography?

Coming up with photos is the hardest part of any writing project for me, whether it’s a bricks-and-mortar book or a blog post. Sutro’s CMS system has a built-in search function that only shows Creative Commons licensed photos in Flickr. That allowed me to show multiple photos for most of the plants and it’s respectful of the photographer as well, since it not only provides photo credit but links back to the original site.

In some cases you link to sources where the plants can be purchased online. I’m sure that one issue with this is that you want to link to a company that has a mobile friendly website. Was that part tricky?

You’re giving me more credit than I deserve. Almost no online nurseries are mobile friendly, so I basically took what I could get. I was only able to find an online source for about 70% of the plants. Given a choice, I linked to a nursery that I personally know is reputable, like Plant Delights or Annie’s Annuals, but otherwise, this particular aspect of the app isn’t fully curated.

You might not want to give away all your trade secrets, but I know that one question authors and publishers have about apps is, “How do I market this?” The standard answer is blogs, Facebook, Twitter, encouraging good reviews on iTunes, etc. Have you got any other insight to share about how people get the word out about an app?

Right now I’m pursuing the standard avenues you just mentioned, but am planning on a press release to traditional media as well. My hope is that because there aren’t many gardening apps out there, and generally speaking, gardening is not perceived as being particularly cutting edge, I can generate some interest based on the coolness factor. I know Garden Rant’s readers are pretty savvy, so would love to hear any ideas they have on how to get the word out!

The Drunken Botanist Road Show, Plus Your Weekly Cocktail by Amy Stewart

2013-03-01T21:00:45Z

Okay, folks! Your devoted correspondent is on a book tour for the next couple of months. I’d love to stay and chat, but instead I’m going to furnish you with a list of tour dates and ask you to come out and fill a seat, badger your friends into filling seats, pester your neighbors, and so on. And if you’re not in the neighborhood, well, I’ve got a drink and some drink-ish, garden-ish, stuff for you.

First, the coming week’s tour dates. Get the whole schedule here, and please do check with the venue before heading out in case of last-minute changes.

March 17 2013 04:00 PM — Mrs. Dalloway’s, Berkeley, CA
A talk about The Drunken Botanist, with cocktails! We’ll also be giving away plants from the Drunken Botanist Plant Collection, so don’t miss it.

March 20 2013 07:00 PM — Copperfield’s Books at h2hotel, Healdsburg, CA
A special Copperfield’s event at Spoonbar at h2hotel on 219 Healdsburg Avenue, Healdsburg, CA. The event is free and open to the public, but priority seating goes to those who purchase an advance ticket for $30 that includes a discounted copy of the book with one specialty cocktail. Tickets available at Copperfield’s Books in Healdsburg or online at www.copperfieldsbooks.com. Additional drink tickets sold at $10 each during the event. Non alcoholic options also available.

March 21 2013 07:30 PM — Capitola Book Cafe, Capitola, CA

March 22 2013 07:00 PM — Rakestraw Books, Danville, CA

March 23 2013 10:45 AM — San Francisco Flower & Garden Show, San Mateo, CA

March 24 2013 05:30 PM — Book Passage, Corte Madera, CA

And now for your drink! As you may know, the people at Territorial Seed Company and Log House Plants let me go through their inventory and pick out my favorite cocktail-friendly plants for a collection they put together called (naturally) The Drunken Botanist Plant Collection. Territorial is selling the plants (and seeds) online, and Log House, a wholesale grower, is shipping them to garden centers and a few gourmet grocery stores on the West Coast.

One of the collections we put together is called Mixologist’s Simple Syrups. It consists of agastache, lavender, scented geranium, orange mint, angelica, and Thai basil. Go here to read all about the collection and see what I’m doing with those plants. I’ve also listed some liqueurs, spirits, and bitters that contain those plants, so if you don’t feel like growing them, you can always just pick up a bottle.

So there’s a lot you can do with an herbal simple syrup. The recipe is simply equal parts sugar and water, heated until the sugar melts and then allowed to cool. As soon as you turn the heat off, throw in a handful of herbs and let them steep while the mixture cools. Then strain it into a bottle (removing the herbs) and keep it in the fridge. Use it up within a few weeks–if you want to keep it longer, add a splash of vodka as a preservative, but it still won’t keep forever. The flavors just aren’t stable enough, and sugar water does attract bacteria after a while. So do small quantities and use it quickly.

I actually prefer lavender in dry drinks–I don’t think it needs all the sweetness of sugar. I like this version of a gin and tonic using lavender-flavored Dry Soda, but if you don’t have that, use regular soda water and just muddle the gin with lavender buds before pouring. Or use lavender simple syrup for a sweeter drink. Adding a sprig of fresh lavender as a garnish really brings up the flavor, especially in a fizzy drink like this one.

Lavandula Intoxicataea

1 – 1.5 oz Dry Fly Gin, Aviation Gin, or Hendricks’ Gin. (see note)

1 quarter fresh lemon

4 oz DRY Soda, lavender flavor

A dash of Scrappy’s Lavender Bitters or Bar Keep Lavender Spice bitters

Garnish options: Fresh lavender sprig, Johnny jump-up (viola), pansy, borage blossom, or lemon twist

Ice

In a tall, skinny Collins glass or a short tumbler filled with ice, pour gin over ice. Squeeze one lemon wedge over ice and drop into glass. Top with Dry Lavender Soda and a dash of Scrappy’s Lavender Bitters. Garnish.

Note: 1.5 oz is a serving of gin, but if you’d like to make this drink a little less boozy, it tastes fine with only 1 ounce.

Poetry for a Leaf Blower Nation by Susan Harris

2013-03-12T11:47:54Z

Guest Rants in Verse by Jennifer Martenson

For Whom the Leaf Blower Blows

Consumer grade cost cutters

available in mildly indifferent and turbo screw all y’all models*

shift the burden of debris

faster than you can say externality

*inline deregulators sold separately

Prélude à l’après-midi d’un leaf blower

Gunning at dawn

as if to secure

the right to water

the lawn, to leave

the engine on, to burn

what we please

and pile the debris

on someone else’s

doorstep, to adjust

one’s mask before

asphyxiating others,

a two-stroke civic

discourse at full

throttle keeps

the peace and

quiet clean.

The Aggressive Ways of the Casual Leaf Blower

“Clean up,” they say, filling the air

with dirt and exhaust. As if

you can more quickly rake in cash

by blowing it into the street.

With all the force — and foresight —

of a tornado. Such logic

flies in everyone’s face, yet passes

for rational self-interest. How

so many ignore it, I don’t know.

It screams out to be heard

from blocks away, even with

the windows closed. And the stereo on.

Out of Proportion, Endlessly Blowing

Given that it takes four

hundred cubic feet per

minute of hot

air blowing at

two hundred miles per

hour to displace the

weight of one

grass clipping

pressed to wet

cement and one

cubic yard of

chipped bark

(color enhanced)

to replace

what is blown

out from under

one square yew

(freshly shaved) by

what percentage does

the value of

hearing oneself

think decline in

the presence of

one leaf scritching

in the street

and how many wind

turbines will it take

to keep America’s

sidewalks clean

on a rainy day

in hurricane season?

______________________________________________
Jennifer Martenson is the author of a book of poems called Unsound (Burning Deck Press, 2010). She lives in Providence, Rhode Island, where she works as a library associate and is learning to garden after many years of garden-less apartment living.

Hedges in Suburbia by Susan Harris

2013-03-08T15:49:06Z

When the planned community of Greenbelt was created in the ’30s, the landscape plan consisted of trees on their way to grandeur (mostly oaks) and hedges, like the ones in the old photo above. The shrubs used were and still are euonymus and privet, of which the euonymus are doing pretty well and the privet, not at all, as you can see from the recent photo below.

Yet, hedges are still encouraged here because, to quote the co-op rules, they’re “a hallmark” of the town and though fences have been erected since the rules were changed to allow pets, “Hedges are still the preferred fencing in our community because they help preserve our historical legacy. Well-maintained hedges are a beautiful community asset.”

And of course there are rules about hedges (because we’re chockful of rules here): “Hedges should be kept in a neat and uniform appearance at all times.” The rules also state that they can’t be taller than 42 inches, though that rule isn’t enforced, thanks to residents complaining about the lack of privacy. (Here, here!)

So with hedges all around me, I’m suddenly interested in them as a landscape feature, and of course discovered that their purpose is to enclose fields to keep the livestock in. Also, I learned that a “hedgerow” is a hedge that’s of “sufficient age to incorporate larger trees,” according to Wikipedia. More tidbits: There’s evidence that hedges have been used for this purpose since at least 4000 B.C., and many hedgerows in the U.K., Ireland and The Netherlands are estimated to have been in existence for over 700 years, originating in the medieval period. Now that’s some historical legacy.

So it’s no surprise that hedges have been legislated over in hedge-filled countries, allowing for their removal when farm sizes were increasing and more recently, their replanting for the benefit of wildlife. Hedge height is subject to law in the U.K., specifically the Anti-Social Behaviour Act 2003. (Seriously.) For a hedge to qualify as anti-social it must be made up of a line of two or more evergreen or semi-evergreen trees or shrubs, over 2 meters high, and be a barrier to light or access.

Judging from the tallest hedges in my neighborhood, towering walls of Arborvitae or bamboo (which was once encouraged and is now verboten) I have to agree that tall hedges seem pretty anti-social.

So I have to ask: In small townhouse-sized yards, with no livestock in sight, what’s the purpose of hedges, anyway? The short ones offer no privacy and the tall ones are anti-social. Hedges don’t keep dogs in the yard. And oh, they’re high-maintenance! Remember they must be “neat and uniform in appearance at all times,” which no amount of shearing will achieve when the occasional shrub in a hedges dies for some reason, which happens with some regularity.

That brings us to a far better kind of hedge, practically and aesthetically – a tapestry of plants, rather than that uniform row of supposed perfection. A mix of species, heights and widths. In other words, a border. Then it look like a garden, not a miniature English manor.

Though in a large, grand garden with a whole staff to maintain it, hedges sure can be nice. I love this one at Ladew Topiary Gardens.

Blast From the Past: Botanical Cocktail Ingredients, 1858 Style by Amy Stewart

2013-01-21T03:52:00Z

Imagine my excitement when this came into our bookstore.

The full title of the book is Fermented Liquors: a Treatise on Brewing, Distilling, Rectifying, and Manufacturing of Sugars, Wines, Spirits, and All Known Liquors, Including Cider and Vinegar: Also, Hundreds of Valuable Directions in Medicine, Metallurgy, Pyrotechny, and the Arts in General, by Lewis Feuchtwanger.

The actual beautiful old weird creature that is this book is totally worth owning, but if you aren’t going to pick up a copy, it’s available as a free ebook from Google.

Anyway, it’s a fascinating compilation of recipes, including many that will be familiar and yet not familiar to modern drinkers. Lots of interesting uses for common plants, too. There is carrot wine. There is red cabbage dye. And I am so glad he managed to work pyrotechny into it, because I needed to know about that, too.

Everything about this table of contents explained what inspired me to write The Drunken Botanist. Corn beer? Elderberry wine? Beet sugar? Agave, ginger, etc?

Some of my favorite bits:

A mint julep recipe that features sugar, mint (so far, so good, right?), no whiskey at all, and–get this–rum, cognac, and GIN! GAH!

And then! An Egg Punch that calls for 24 egg yolks! Not the whites, but the yellows! The yolks. And please do note that this mixture of 2 dozen egg yolks, a full pound of sugar, and 1 1/2 bottles of rum is considered sufficient to serve six people.

Six.

And then there’s this. Plant dyes to turn your weird fermented liquors to the color of your choosing!

Cochineal is a bug, in case you didn’t know. A type of scale that excretes red stuff.

I had to look up orchill. It’s a lichen. The color is achieved through fermentation. Of course.

That’s your history lesson for the day. Cheers!

Hanging plants without the hangers by Elizabeth Licata

2013-03-04T01:11:47Z

Or the planters. Or the dirt. I’ve often seen tillandsia on tables at art fairs and home and garden shows without thinking much about them. “Air Plants!” proclaim the signs on the tables. “Freak plants!” I think, and dismiss the idea of owning organic matter that sits around on tables looking like little dried up octopi.

But then I saw an installation of these at the Buffalo and Erie County Botanical Gardens. They were hung on fishing line in rows looking like airy curtains, and I quite liked them.

In the meantime, the two Boston ferns currently taking up window space in my back room seem unable to thrive. Other tropicals, tenders, and forced bulbs in this space—colocasia, gardenia, hibiscus, hyacinths, and more—grow happily, but the two hanging plants have always faltered. Besides being a pain in the ass to water.

So, I thought, why not try these tillandsia on strings? We already have fishing line, and the plants are easily available at several garden centers in the area.

Alan Bigelow’s deft hands tying up the plants

It turned out that the hardest part was buying the things—they’re not quite as cheap as you might think. It was then simple to tie them along the fishing line, and they look quite distinctive backlit from the window. I can see I need more.

Anyone using these plants like this? Issues?

So, what do we think of “Master Gardeners”? by Susan Harris

2013-03-01T21:02:23Z

Recently there was a lively garden-writer discussion on Facebook that began with this question: “I’m a member of several professional garden groups and a recurring theme that comes up is anti-master gardeners. Why?”

Boy-oh-boy, did people have answers. One opined that Master Gardeners represent a “stale and stagnant status quo,” another had seen them selling known invasives in their area, but the main complaint against Master Gardeners was about their very name.

Bad Name

I totally agree with the commenters that “Master Gardener” is a misnomer and I weighed in to say that attending classes (where attendance wasn’t even required), completing a take-home test and then performing 40 volunteer hours does not make anyone a “master” at anything. There were people in my class (in DC) who’d never put a plant in the ground in their lives, and after MG “training” and certification, still hadn’t.

That “master” in the name leads to problems like:

- People thinking it’s on the same level as “Master Carpenter,” a tittle that represents actual mastery.

- Apparently, it can go to people’s heads. “Some MG’s take that title too seriously and are extremely pompous.” “Extremely pompous about the mostly abstract info they have.”

- It makes people boring: “They use the title of ‘Master Gardener’ as a badge of all-inclusive expertise. Plus they tend to be really really boring.”

- The name is often mistakenly assumed to indicate a higher level of knowledge and training than actual horticulturists!

- From yours truly, a complaint that America’s Master Gardener Jerry Baker is a known quack who’s made beaucoup bucks off that self-proclaimed title. (Which I ranted about back in ’06.)

Better Name?

Garden writers seem to agree it’s time for renaming. “If they’d rename the program to something more honest, that made it clear that the level of education is meant for homeowners and not as a professional certification, I’d have fewer sore feelings about the program.”

“Horticultural Research Volunteer” was suggested as “something that allows the public to know that they are not BETTER THAN US.”

Taking Work from Garden Writers

Some complain of MG writing columns competing with paid (hopefully) garden writers.

And a related pocketbook complaint is that you can’t use your Master Gardener credential for commercial purposes. “A pure interpretation of this means that you can’t put MG on your resume, on the cover of your book, on a byline or author bio for a magazine or newspaper article (for which you get paid), on your business card, and so on.”

Coming to their Defense

“We are not volunteer gardeners nor do we compete in any way with professional horticulturists or designers; we provide RESEARCH-BASED gardening information to the public. We are taught during our training that it isn’t necessary to have all the answers; it’s only necessary to know how to find them. ”

And several writers sang the praises for MG programs in their area. (And I’m always happy to hear about MG programs that are nothing like the one in DC I’ve ranted about.)

No Surprise: It Starts in Washington

Responding to a suggestion that the garden writer group rename the MG program, one writer answered that the name can only be changed at the national level (by the Department of Agriculture, presumably) and continued: “I think the lack of consistency form place to place is one of the problems w/the program as a national institution.” Others echoed this complaint about the lack of consistency across the country.

And we heard from Canadians about what the program can be: “In Ontario, we’re required to take a horticulture certificate from one of two universities (three courses, usually taking two years of distance ed) and write a qualifying exam before being accepted into the program. Each year, we have a compulsory technical update, and monthly meetings, of which we must attend at least four, include one hour of education. Thirty hours of volunteer time annually (most do more; I did nearly double that last year) is essential to remain in the program. It’s a shame there’s so much anti-MG feeling.”

What do YOU think of Master Gardeners? And can you suggest a better name?

Weigh in, and I’ll try to get a response from the USDA folks who have jurisdiction over the program, from the Extension Master Gardener bloggers and from the Garden Professors.

Crimes against…Masonry? by Susan Harris

2013-02-28T21:56:01Z

I love Billy Goodnick’s campaign “Crimes against Horticulture,” but these expensive stone columns are in a whole other category. Just imagine the plants the owners could have bought and had installed for the money they spent for these? In a wealthy neighborhood in Bethesda, Maryland.

Grand entrance for a parking slab.

I Must Have This. by Amy Stewart

2013-02-10T20:05:31Z

I’m totally in love with these DIY kits for making your own bitters. The problem with making your own bitters is that some of the spices are expensive and difficult to track down. (You cannot get gentian root in the spice section at Safeway.) So this company called Dash Bitters has put kits together with infusion jars, bottles, funnels, cheesecloth, and assorted spices.

You, of course, should feel free to experiment and add your own secret botanical ingredients.

I’m particularly intrigued with the 1889 Aromoatic Bitters Kit, and the Orange Hop Bitters Kit.

and they sell refills, so you don’t have to buy the bottles every time.

Good stuff! Oh, and by the way, I’m off to the Fresno Home & Garden Show, so if you’re going to be there, stop by and say hi. March 2 & 3. Noonish and 3-ish.

Oh yeah, one more thing: If you’re super into bitters, the book to get is called–well, Bitters. Brad Parson wrote it. It’s a fine and beautifully illustrated book. Check it out.

The most essential ingredient in any batch of bitters is — well — the thing that gives it its bitterness. Traditionally that bitterness comes from some sort of tree bark or root. It’s usually quinine, from the cinchona tree, or angostura, from the angostura tree, or gentian root (from–yes, you guessed it — gentian plants. Gentiana lutea, to be exact.)

None of this is easy to grow in the garden, or even in a spice shop, which is why I like the bitters kits so much. But you can add some garden-grown ingredients to bitters. Just be sure to dry them thoroughly first–fresh herbs can add a nice flavor to infused vodkas, but they get slimy and nasty fast, and give off some weird flavors if they’re left to soak too long. Dry them first, which gets the moisture out and leaves behind some strong flavors that work well in bitters. Such as these, always in dried form:

Lavender buds

Coriander (cilantro seeds)

Lemon verbena

Rose hips or petals

Lemongrass

Hops

Dandelion root

Fennel Seed

Hibiscus

Juniper berries (Use Juniperus communis; some other species are toxic)

Wormwood, Artemisia absinthum

Citrus peel

Impatiens FAIL—regrets or good riddance? by Elizabeth Licata

2013-02-25T02:30:10Z

Fusion impatiens are also prone to the mildew.

For the last couple years, I have been reading ominous reports of downy mildew decimating impatiens plants. As most of you know, it’s more than just reports now. It’s real—to the extent that entire plantings of traditional impatiens (impatiens walleriana) have been completely wiped out throughout the United Kingdom, and parts of the U.S. The mildew, caused by the pathogen Plasmopara obducens, kills the plants; if caught in time, they can be treated, but once the spores have taken hold, they’re pretty much unstoppable. There’s a good description of the disease, its symptoms, and its treatments here.

One of the articles I saw mentioned the presence of this in impatiens beds as close as Niagara Falls, Ontario, only about 20 minutes or so away from me.

A Philadelphia Inquirer report said this about anyone who is thinking about using impatiens this year:

Gardeners who do buy them will be taking a risk that experts say isn’t worth it. The plants will probably die, and the shade-loving alternatives being offered up may not cut it for many who depend on the easygoing, affordable impatiens to brighten their summer landscape.”The feeling is, it’s really going to be pretty much everywhere,” says James Harbage, research and production leader at Longwood Gardens in Kennett Square.

And here are some observations from Newsday:

“The best and really only way to avoid a reoccurrence is to plant something else,” said Cornell University plant pathologist Meg McGrath, who is based in Riverhead and has been tracking the disease’s progression. The pathogen can be transmitted from infected seeds, on leaves or via airborne spores, and planting impatiens next year – even in another location – will just feed the hungry beast.

I can almost feel the vibrations from your collective shrugs, and can imagine the universal so whats. Who cares about impatiens anyway, right? And besides, the New Guinea varieties and the Sunpatiens aren’t affected by the disease, supposedly.

This is fine for landscapers, who want the ease of impatiens in a sunny spot, but it doesn’t help shade gardeners who actually like impatiens, within reason. I am one of those gardeners. The old-fashioned impatiens really spread well, in my root-filled, shady front garden. I like them for my one floral accent amid all my shade-friendly foliage plants. The semi-doubles (as opposed to the unreliable full doubles) are lovely, and the new Fusion (a walleriana hybrid) achieves shrub-like stature. I hate New Guineas, and if I had sun, I wouldn’t be planting impatiens.

In any case, you can be sure that you’ll be seeing plenty of impatiens this season. Even though many independent garden centers are backing off the plant, Home Depot—and doubtless other boxes—will be selling it.

I have ordered some semi-doubles grown by my local botanical gardens for their annual plant sale. That’s where I got them last year and they did fine.

Does anyone besides me care about this plant?

How to Teach a Town to Garden – Ideas, Please! by Susan Harris

2013-03-05T01:20:12Z

Fabulous plant-filled border, small lawn.

The Mission

To turn my mostly-lawn community of 1,600 townhouses, some with incredibly large yards, into a place with gardens that benefit the environment and humans, too. We do have large trees and lots of geometrically shaped hedges, but that’s about it, except for the houses on the perimeter that face the woods. (Sadly, there’s a whole lotta chainlink fencing.) What’s sorely lacking are small trees, shrubs, and perennials. Also, privacy, since most of the hedges are 4 feet tall, and there are sidewalks running across the back yards of most of our homes.

Here are the ideas I have so far, and I welcome more.

Articles in the Local Paper

I’ve been promised plenty of space in our weekly (still print) newspaper, and will start with an article arguing that to achieve a variety of environmental and human goals, removing lawn and planting small trees, shrubs and perennials is the simple answer. Sure, rain barrels help, but deep-rooted plants retain stormwater while looking pretty and providing for wildlife. Future articles will promote upcoming events, report on those events, and teach basic maintenance of shrubs, trees and perennials.

The “Less Lawn” Garden Tour

Most garden tours feature the prettiest and often the most expensive gardens available to the tour-organizers, but the tour I’ve volunteered to organize will avoid the sticky wicket of choosing the prettiest and simply choose the most instructive – and inspiring, too – the ones with less lawn and more plants (okay, turfgrasses are technically plants but barely). To increase the educational impact, I’ll be posting photos and plant lists of each garden on the tour to the web.

Does anyone know of a Less Lawn Tour that’s ever taken place? I’ve asked some of the top experts in lawn reduction and they tell me they know of no such tour, ever. So it’s high time to have one, and promote it as a model for duplication elsewhere. Lawn reduction is officially a trend now, ya know.

Demonstration Garden(s)

“Before” photo of a neighbor’s yard.

To the surprise of exactly no one who knows me, I’ve adopted several of my neighbors’ yards already in my first year living here, and the one shown here is the perfect spot for showing how to turn a yard into a garden – by simply creating some borders and filling them up with plants, in this case give-aways that cost the homeowner nothing. I used the popular newspaper+mulch method of lawn removal and am documenting every step in the process with photos and plant lists. Here’s a “before” shots of the front yard, all turf and hedge, which now sports a new border in front of the hedge.

Talks and Demonstrations

Speakers are primed with their PowerPoints on the subject of rain gardens and alternatives to lawn (that one being my topic), and there will be at least one demonstration of pruning techniques, in someone’s actual garden. The primary shrubs in town are, for hedges, privet and euonymus, and for foundation plants, azalea, so we’ll demonstrate much-needed pruning on them.

Web Resources

The community blog I edit and write for will have a special section (yet to be named) for photos and plant lists of gardens on the Less Lawn Tour, plus lots of other stuff. Ideas include videos of the pruning demonstrations and profiles of plants that do really well here.

Master Gardener Help

Our county’s Master Gardeners have a booth at the local Farmers Market once a month, so I’m hoping they’ll be willing to carry the Less Lawn message, share plant lists, and more. A pow-wow with the coordinator of the Farmers Market event is coming up soon.

Partners in Garden-Teaching

Speaking of pow-wow’s with possible partners, the more the better. I’ve joined two co-op committees and am meeting with a couple more. Better to have known people and groups sponsor the activities, rather than this newcomer.

Free Mulch Deliveries

One enthusiastic partner in garden-teaching is on the staff of the co-op and has volunteered to arrange for timely, free deliveries of mulch to help turn yards into gardens.

Name that Campaign!

We’re looking for words that convey nature-friendly, yet people-friendly, too, and easy. So we won’t be using words like “sustainability” or “stormwater” but maybe “Yards to Gardens” or “Less Lawn, More Life” (thanks to Evelyn Hadden). Ideas that use the town’s name, Greenbelt, include “Greenbelt Gardens” and “Greener Greenbelt.” That last one is tricky because Greenbelt was planned as part of the “garden city” movement of the early 20th Century and being “green” is part of its self-image. Trouble is, its “greenness” comes from its walkability, lake and surrounding woods, not from plants in people’s yards.

See you in Seattle? Plus: Plants in Bottles and How to Organize Them by Amy Stewart

2013-01-21T03:59:52Z

I’m in Seattle this week at the Northwest Flower & Garden Show. Are you there too? Come see me!

February 21 2013 03:15 PM — Northwest Flower & Garden Show, Seattle, WA
The Backyard Bartender: Secrets to Mixing Creative Cocktails

February 22 2013 01:30 PM — Northwest Flower & Garden Show, Seattle, WA
The Backyard Bartender: Secrets to Mixing Creative Cocktails

February 22 2013 04:30 PM — Northwest Flower & Garden Show, Seattle, WA
The Drunken Botanist: An Intoxicating Look at the World of Plants

So! With all this cocktailing going on, you may be wondering what my liquor collection looks like these days. Well, it’s a bit out of control. When one is researching a book on botany and booze, one is required to have at least one example of how every plant might possibly be fermented, distilled, and bottled.

Which means that I have quite a few lovely bottles of stuff, and for a long time, I had nowhere to put them.

Liquor bottles don’t easily lay flat in racks the way wine bottles do. For one thing, they’re all different sizes. And for another, you tend to open a liquor bottle and not drink it all at once. (at least, I hope you tend to do that.) And if you lay it on its side after it’s opened, it can leak.

So what ends up happening is that either you have a deep cabinet or cupboard filled with bottles, and you’re constantly rummaging around to try to find the thing you need, or you have cardboard boxes from the liquor store lining the hallway.

I had both.

Now I have this.

I ordered these shelves online (I can no longer find the place where I ordered mine, but just search around for wall-mounted display shelves with a lip like these–or the more handy among you can just nail a little trim piece to a 5-6 inch deep board and make them yourselves.)

I mounted them to the wall with L-brackets and strung bungee cords across them to hold them in place. (This is earthquake country, but I’d use them anyway–I put these shelves in the narrow hall between the kitchen, bathroom, and laundry room, where they could easily get jostled.)

It’s a great setup, and it holds most of my collection. The stuff that isn’t here includes assorted gins, vodkas, and whiskeys, which are stored in the aforementioned deep cabinets, which is not as big a deal because those are the staples around my house, and it’s no trouble for me to reach into the cabinet to find what I’m looking for.

So! There’s my liquid plant collection for you. Among the more wonderful items on the shelf:

Farigoule Thyme Liqueur

Averell Damson Plum Gin

and one of my favorite things in the world, the Italian Licore Strega.

Here’s what I don’t like about fairy gardens by Elizabeth Licata

2013-02-19T12:43:39Z

A tiny garden I like

The desire to create a miniature world makes perfect sense to me. This is why we have dollhouses, train sets, collections of tiny objects, and boutique dictatorships. Daily life spins out of control on a regular basis—most of us are just trying to keep up, or at least make it seem as though we’re keeping up. Retreats are necessary. If it’s possible to carve out even a tiny bit of order from the chaos, why not?

So I don’t have a problem with tiny garden worlds, in theory. But here’s where it gets annoying. Fairy gardens are—in the world of marketing— a trend. If you google the term, you’ll get sucked into a vortex where words like “wee,” “whimsy” and “quaint” describe everything, and resin is the media of choice. Plants are secondary at best. And it often seems to require a professed belief in fairies, or at least a willingness to use terminology that suggests such a belief. Which is strange and kind of sickening, but it doesn’t bother me as much as all the tiny stuff. Garden centers devote an increasing amount of real estate to tiny patio furniture, trellises, garden tools, and little castles or huts for the fairies to live in. All mass-produced wherever, of course. In this world, gardening isn’t about growing stuff—it’s just about stuff.

My friend Arlan, whose miniature garden is shown above, uses the term “moss garden” to describe this space. It’s located along a narrow walkway at the side of his house—it would be difficult to grow any type of traditional border here. All the structures are handmade, and are meant to suggest a country village. If I had his skillset, this is the type of miniature garden I would have.

A Gardening Boomer’s Equipment Wish-List by Garden Rant

2013-02-17T15:24:18Z

Guest Rant by Shenandoah Kepler

I’m a Baby Boomer and am told that just as we changed the work environment as we entered it, we’re now changing the nature of retirement and aging. So, have you noticed that you can now go into most big-box hardware stores and find hardware to make it safer to negotiate the interior of your home? Items such as grab bars, step-in bath tubs, toilet seat risers, and pull-out kitchen shelves are available off the shelf without special orders. This might be some indication of the consumer-buying power of my generation as we age.

So many of us Boomers live in suburban sprawl, though. We have homes sited on some portion or multiple of a landscaped acre. We have bushes to trim and gardens to tend. How do we continue to do these tasks as we age? Exercise is good, and few of us are ready to hire out all our landscaping tasks. I’ve noticed that mowers now have electric plug-in starters to make it easier to start them. Many of the motorized tools for landscaping now come in all-electric versions rather than just gasoline-motored versions that are a lot heavier. I’ve even seen an electric wood chipper for the backyard.

But I think the outdoor chore-machine manufacturers are not adapting as quickly as the indoor ones, and I’m not sure why that is. So here’s my wish list of items that would sure help me in the garden. If you agree and want easier to operate garden tools, leave a note with your favorite tool manufacturer if they have a presence on Facebook or Twitter.

- Motorized wheel barrow or robot cart with remote control to carry gardening goods into and out of our back yards.

- A mower-like riding machine that has carrying capabilities for our gardening chores, maybe a rack for tools, a bucket for plants, and a flat for carrying mulch bags, gravel, etc.

- A vacuum cleaner for leaves that shreds them and returns them to the garden as mulch. I’ve seen leaf blowers that sort-of vacuum leaves, but they’re heavy sling-over-the-shoulder machines that remind me of why there are wheels on my indoor carpet vacuum.

- Landscaping mats that are heavy like paving, but light enough to install like roll-out carpet. Mats that could be rolled over by users of walkers and rollators or even those in wheelchairs!

- Big-box hardware stores have subcontractors that will come to your home to measure for new doors and windows, lay flooring, install a backyard shed, or install bathroom fixtures. Why not someone who’s vetted that will come and estimate for the labor of putting down paving, or install raised beds for gardening?

These raised beds are 4 X 4 feet and were home-built because we couldn’t find them like this in a store – with built-in seats.

What are your ideas about making it easier in the garden , whether you’re a Boomer or not?

Shenandoah Kepler gardens in Central Florida and blogs at Fleeting Architecture – Diary of an Ancient Gardener.