Spring Arrives in a December Mailbox

Like most of the country, here in Harrisonville (just south of Kansas city), we are hunkering down for a big freeze. The high for the Chiefs game tomorrow will be a whopping 8 degrees---with any luck. My husband, David, double checked antifreeze strengths in all three cars, something he's done only twice in the eighteen years we've been together. And, I would say this is definitely going to challenge all those marginal zone 6 perennials I planted on the advice of nursery people who assured me that our winters aren't as cold as they once were. Needless to say, and according to our weather forecasts, it's going to feel like Alaska around here for the next few days.

So imagine my delight when I opened my mailbox this afternoon and saw the vibrant, rich colors of a spring seed catalog staring out at me!!! Thrilling. And less than a week from Christmas! What caught my eye was the picture of a red and white marbled grandiflora rose called Rock & Roll. I saw this rose at The Family Tree nursery last summer. Not to be harsh, but seeing the rose in person was less spectacular than seeing it splashed across the front page of my new seed catalog. The roses were small and the variations of color weren't nearly as striated. Anyway, my mailbox is about 75 feet away from my front door. It seemed like an eternity to reach the mailbox with the bitter north wind whipping around my exposed face but with seed catalog in hand, the trip back to the house didn't seem nearly as miserable or lengthy in duration!

Tossing all other pieces of mail aside, I sat down at the kitchen table and started perusing the pages. Of course, have-to-haves immediately began jumping out at me. I'm particularly excited about a new Gaillardia called Dakota Reveille. It's the first double ball-type I've seen to withstand temperatures to zone 4. Yipppeee!!!!!!!! I have perennial Gaillardia but they are the more daisy-like type in appearance. And I love to grow Cosmos every year. I try to find a new and exciting variety to experiment with. This year, looking at the seed catalog, it appears that Double Click Rose Bonbon may just be the ticket. The blooms are fully double, rose/lavender petals borne on 36 inch stems. Perfect for the back of the border. I also have my eye on a clematis called Empress. This variety, with its candy-pink double blooms, which have darker pink midrib markings and a spiky pompon center, would be a great addition to my clematis collection. It doesn't hurt that Empress is also my favorite flower color!

As my eyes scanned the delightful pages of the seed catalog, they came to rest on the word bulbs.That's when I was ripped from my futuristic daydreaming and jarred back into the present. During the winter, my garage rarely dips below 40 degrees. However, with a wind chill factor of -20, I need to get off this computer and start helping David tote my stored bulbs to the basement.

Gifting from the Garden: Sweet Potato Pie

I have both very northern (paternal) and very southern (maternal) roots. On the southern side of things, I'm a direct descendant of Stonewall Jackson. Like any good southerner, I like things in extremes, especially hot weather and rich food. Thinking along those lines, I'd like to discuss the sweet potato in this posting.

This past garden season, I planted Beauregard sweet potato vines, a southern favorite. This particular variety produces beautifully large, red-skinned tubers with deep orange inner flesh. Beauregard is crack resistant and if stored in a cool dry place, will keep extremely well. Sweet potato slips (plant/vine starts) are sold at any nursery or seed company and should be planted only after soil temperatures stay at 50 degrees over night. Sweet potatoes are very cranky about getting cold and will quickly wither. I like Beauregard because it seems to tolerate temperature flunctuations better. I plant my slips in a mounded hill of dirt. Once the slip begins to vine, it needs plenty of room to send out its runners. The runners root and sweet potatoes are produced along these rooted portions of the vine.

At Christmas, I particularly like to give gifts that directly reflect my love of gardening. My neighbors and I participate in an annual cookie exchange---breads, candies, and even scented candles are also acceptable and have been given. Last year, I gave away dried herbs, flower seeds, and homemade potpourri in gift baskets.

Since I had an abundance of sweet potatoes in the fall, I decided to make pies for our cookie exchange. So yesterday, I set up an assembly line and began churning out pie crusts and before long, I had seven sweet potato pies ready for the oven. They baked up just lovely. Here's my recipe if you'd be so inclined to make one:

Jenn's Southern Sweet Potato Pie

1 9" pie crust, either homemade or store bought

1/2 cup granulated sugar

1/4 cup brown sugar

1/2 tsp salt

1 tsp cinnamon

1/2 tsp pumpkin pie spice

1/2 tsp nutmeg

1/2 tsp ginger

1/4 tsp cloves

2 large eggs

1 lb Beauregard sweet potatoes, cooked and drained (or 1 can of 15 0z store bought sweet potatoes)

1 12 oz can evaporated milk

Place sweet potatoes in large mixing bowl and mash. Stir in sugars, salt, and spices and mix well. Add eggs and incorporate. Gradually stir in the entire contents of the evaporated milk. Pour sweet potato mixture into pie shell. Bake at 425 degrees for 15 minutes, then reduce oven temperature to 350 and bake for 45 minutes longer or until set. Let cool completely before serving.

If giving the pie as a gift, wrap beautifully:

Lu and Me in the Garden

Meet my garden companion, Lu. Isn't he a handsome fellow?
























Dave and I adopted Lu three years and two months ago from a rescue program. He's a wonderful dog. Unfortunately, someone treated him very poorly before he came to live with us. He has a lot of fear. He doesn't warm up to strangers and is leary even with our neighbors and friends. Lu is a mix of Boxer and German Shorthair---he's so dashing he often garners compliments when people see him. He loves to be in the gardens when I'm outside. More often than not, he stands guard while I dig or plant. He takes protecting me very seriously. However, he can be distracted by the lure of a discarded plastic pot. I think that as soon as I remove the plant and lay the pot on the ground, the pot begins to call his name in a voice only he can hear. Sneaking up on my blind side, Lu will then ease the pot up off the ground until he has a sure grip with his teeth. And that's when he explodes into a frenetic mass of churning muscle. Round and round the yard he runs, turning and twisting, leaping and lurching, the pot dancing on the end of his nose. We've given him all kinds of store-bought toys but nothing is as much fun as the discarded plastic pot.

Yesterday, we planted the bulbs I got at Ace hardware last weekend. They were beautiful and solid and much to my delight, I found that the ground was still dig-ible. Into the ground went 10 Anemone Blanda, 4 Nectaroscordum Allium, 20 Dick Wilden Double Narcissi, and 7 Mount Everest Giant Allium. Much to Lu's delight, he found the remnants of a flower pot and after running with it until he tired himself out, he settled in for some shredding. He's also very proficient at making plastic confetti.

While I was planting the bulbs, I remembered reading a helpful planting tip about bulbs that I wanted to pass on. Sometimes it's hard to tell, especially for beginning gardeners, which is the top and which is the bottom of the bulb for placement in the ground. Almost always the top is pointy. But, if you can't figure it out, plant the bulb on its side and the bulb will take care of itself. Nice.

Today, we are expecting snow. Not a lot, maybe an inch. But Lu and I don't care for the gray skies and the bitter way the wind has turned on us from the northwest. Maybe that's why I'm sitting here jabbering about dogs and bulbs and Lu is chasing rabbits from the comfort of his recliner.

Let Someone Else Judge Your View

This particular shot of my garden was taken on the south side of the house. It's not extremely colorful. It doesn't necessarily dazzle the viewer. But, I think its a great garden photo. I'm curious to know. What do you think?

Let me tell you why I like this photo so much. It captures the bones. This photo was taken in September when almost all the plants were done blooming. And yet, I think the garden looks as good then as it did when it was awash with color. That's because all the structural elements (the bones) work. The fence provides a good visual line and backdrop for the garden inside the fence. I've planted several large perennials, shrubs, and grasses to act as anchors. Because cottage gardening can border on the side of visually messy, these larger plantings or anchors provide breaks or focal points. In this photo, the two snowball viburnum (viburnum opulus sterile , large green bushes at center top) break the rambling fence and garden bed into thirds. Large spiky grasses outside the fence (upper left corner) soften the line of the fence by intruding ever so slightly. Then its all tied together by commingling smaller spiky and bushy plantings throughout the beds. The black rolled edging defines the flow, how one will move or be moved through a garden. Imagine stepping into this garden on the left side of the photo. Where would you go? What if you followed the flow and moved to the upper right side? What is just out of view around the corner? The final element of good design is surprise. The surprise could be in finding a bench or a fountain but in this case its a large wisteria arbor.

Have I done a good job designing this garden? I think so but who of us doesn't need validation? Even top garden designers need validation or they wouldn't have prestigious landscaping awards. Okay, having said that, where to get this validation? The two forms of criticism I value highly are 1) unsolicited compliments and 2) recognition by professionals.

Unsolicited compliments are a very genuine form of criticism. This past summer we had a window replaced. The man who came to estimate the cost for the new window was extremely complimentary about my gardens. It wasn't that he was just trying to sell me either. He and I started talking and I found out he was really into bonsai and Zen gardening. Another time, a complete stranger rang my door bell just to let me know how much she admired my gardens as she drove past every day on the street. You know you've made a visual impression when people you don't know are complimenting you.

Recognition by professionals is great as well. Here's my advice. Get to know your local nursery people on a first name basis. Let's face it, for the most part, people who work in nurseries do so because they love gardening. After purchasing my large cone baskets from Farrand Farms (as mentioned in my post about container gardening ), I sent a photo of my baskets with all their glorious foliage and blooms so that Keith, the owner, could see them. He emailed me back with his comments. Another way to acquire professional feedback is to enter gardening contests. What better way to know you are doing a great job than by being rewarded for what you do? I won my first gardening contest on Memorial day of this year from Johnson Farms, a family owned nursery just south of metro Kansas City. In the springtime they have a huge selection of annuals and perennials. And just last week I was notified that I had been chosen as the August 2008 garden contest winner for VanBourgondien, a mail order nursery located in Virginia Beach, Virginia. From both, I won $100 gift certificates.

Sweet!

Christmas lights and spring flowering bulbs

Winter came again to Kansas City and all at once. Some of us just weren't ready---me, for one, and this poor scabiosa who was caught blooming unaware.

Frankly, I don't know how it was still producing viable blooms. We've had several nights of freezing temps---dipping down as low as 18---but I guess our mild days kept it encouraged. This Wednesday our forecast calls for temps in the upper 50's. No wonder some of my hardier plantings are confused. And talk about confusion, this past weekend I walked into my local Ace hardware store in search of a 50 count string of green twinkle lights and ran smack into a display of spring flowering bulbs! (What were they still doing on the shelf?)

Needless to say, my husband, who'd been abandoned before we ever reached the Christmas section, found me sorting through little cardboard bins of tulips, daffodils, and hyacinth bulbs, twinkle lights all but forgotten. "I should have known," was the first thing he said, a familiar form of greeting between us when my gardening obsession derails me from my intended path. Then he asked, "Will these be okay to plant now?" At 90% off the original price, I assured him it was worth taking a chance. When will I ever again get the opportunity to buy Mount Everest Allium bulbs for roughly 30 cents each? And, if they do make it, how great will they look scattered throughout the gardens? Awesome!

Later, dressed in sixteen layers of clothing, I tottered out to the gazebo and helped string lights along its rails and posts while the north wind stabbed the exposed skin of my face with ice pellets. That's when I noticed my scabiosa, the same plant I bought half dead in the late summer from a local nursery for 75% off. Once I put it in the ground, it flourished. Hopefully, this coming spring, I'll be able to post a picture of giant snowballs sprouting from a warm sun drenched garden bed.

Container Gardening: Consider the Container First

Container gardening has become all the rage over the last few years. Every time I pick up a gardening magazine or peruse a gardening website, I can rest assured I'll find an entire section devoted to the subject. I can also guarantee there will be tons of information at my disposal on how to choose complimentary color combinations for my containers or how to match foliage structures to the container's design elements or even how to layer spiky/bushy/viney plantings in that same said container for dramatic visual effect. But, where is the actual aspects of the container ever addressed?

So, let's talk containers.

Container depth (priority #1)

In my opinion, no other factor is as critical to successful container gardening than depth. Nothing is more frustrating than plantings that either don't grow well or do grow well at first but then quickly fizzle out. If what's above the rim of the container is lush with foliage and blossoms, then what's below the rim has to be a healthy root system. Shallow containers are prohibitive to healthy root systems. There are only two reasons to purchase shallow containers, 1) the container is going to be sited in a continuously shady location or 2) the container is going to be home to cacti or succulents. Shallow containers assimilate dessert conditions perfectly when placed in direct sunlight.

As far as I'm concerned, if a container can't hold at least 24 inches of soil for root development and 1 inch of gravel for adequate drainage, it doesn't belong in my garden. Having said that, I will admit to owning a few shallow containers---lessons learned in beginning gardening. For example, I bought this lovely three-tier planter in my early gardening years. The largest basket is at the bottom of the tier with a depth of 5 1/2 inches, the center basket 5 inches and the top basket measures in at a whopping 4 1/2 inches, thus the additon of the coconut liners which add an extra inch or two of depth. Instead of being sited in full sun on my westerly exposed back deck which was my original intention, the lovely three-tier planter resides in the shade of my easterly exposed front porch. Even so, successful growing in these shallow baskets requires daily watering and, depending on the type of planting (supertunia and sweet potato vine), daily feeding.

Container types

Simply from a durability standpoint, I prefer concrete, resin, and fiberglass over wood, ceramic, and metal. I especially like the new urns and pots that are made of a stone/fiberglass combination (stonecast) for the tough exterior quality and yet easy movability. Plastic on its own is tacky---just my own personal opinion.

Container shape

As long as a container has depth and is made of durable material, the shape is merely a matter of preference. The exception is in the hanging basket. I want my hanging baskets to acheive that nursery-like gargantuan fullness with the ability to grow and bloom from mid spring planting all the way through summer into fall. Therefore, the only shape suitable to meet my expectations is the cone.

The cone offers the most optimal surface area for healthy root development. The cone in the picture is 24 inches in diameter and 28 inches long. The large diameter allows for multiple plantings without crowding and the spacious depth offers the roots a place to stretch out and grow. Most hanging baskets become root bound within a few weeks and then the flowers suffer.

The construction is a combination of coconut fiber and sheet moss over wire. These cones are very large, requiring eyebolts driven into studs to keep them secure and stable. And, because of the weight put upon the eyebolt, only potting mix not potting soil should be used. These cone baskets can be found at any nursery. I bought mine from Farrand Farms.

Not to be overwhelmed, (I've been told by more than one nursery worker that people buy these baskets and then return them) nurseries carry several smaller sizes. I noticed this past season that even the big box stores are starting to carry the smaller cones as well. Just remember, the smaller the cone the less area for root development. By the middle of summer, the foliar diameter of this cone basket was easily six feet.

When the container is considered first, the results are nothing short of dramatic.

Agastache (for beginning gardeners)

(first in a series of postings found under the label: beginners)

Whenever I read an article whose target audience is beginning gardeners and whose topic focus is perennials for beginners, I am appalled at the same old, tired recommendations: Enchinea, Rudbeckia, and Sedum. Of course I understand the reasoning, these are easy to grow, fairly fail-proof perennials. They are lovely. I have several types of each in my own gardens. But, please! Give them a much deserved rest. Especially when there are so many other equally as easy to grow choices.

At the top of my list is Agastache. I can't imagine trying to cultivate cottage garden style beds without it. I use it extensively throughout my gardens for three reasons: 1) abundant, constant color, 2) quick to establish lush fullness and 3) upright growth habit. Most species of Agastache are tall, growing between 15 and 36 inches. My first introduction to this genus was the species Agastache Cana Sinning. Superbly outstanding to any other beginner's perennial I've ever tried. Sinning, once established, is both drought and heat tolerant. It reaches an average height of 18 inches. I like to plant Sinning in the middle of my beds. Give it some room. It becomes full and lush very quickly. It's best attribute is its constant, abundant color. Sinning produces lovely lavender-rose hued flowers that bloom all summer.

My favorite of the Agastache Cana is Heather Queen. It produces bright pink sprays of non-stop blossoms from summer until the first fall frost. Heather Queen is tall, between 30 and 36 inches and is extremely hardy. I plant it in my gardens' sunniest locations. By the end of August, it is spilling over and through the picket fence. Breathtaking. I can count on it to look fresh when other flowers are wilting under the summer sun.


Agastache has many admirable attributes. It requires no deadheading to stay in bloom. Bees, hummingbirds, and butterflies are highly attracted by it. The foliage is pungently fragrant, giving off a licorice scent when touched. Most varieties will thrive in poor soils as long as they have adequate drainage.


A word of caution: not all Agastache are winter hardy above zone 5. Check with your own local nursery to see which species is right for your area. I buy mine at the Family Tree Nursery, a full service garden center providing zone 5 plants for Kansas City gardeners.

Pink Girl Tomatoes and other High Yield Vegetables

I don't know how many times some one has said to me, ". . . you're so lucky you have such a green thumb." Possibly, but I'm not sold on luck. One's ability to have a successful garden isn't in the luck but in the devotion. My thumb is also dirty from pulling weeds and calloused from dragging the water hose. In my opinion, getting lucky in the garden equates to a growing season of favorable weather conditions.

High Yield Harvest=Commitment

I guess its not surprising then that the question I'm asked most often is: Which varieties produce the greatest yields? I think any gardener will say that's all a matter of opinion. None of my neighbors grow the tomato variety I swear by every season and yet we all have high yield harvests. I think half the joy of vegetable gardening is being able to share opinions. The following is a list of my favorites:

Pink Girl Tomatoes: I've been growing this variety for sixteen years and I've never wanted for lack of tomatoes. They are unusual in that they set both single fruits and fruit clusters. It's nothing to have five to eight tomatoes in one bunch. They can be a bit fussy to get started because they are not cold tolerant at all. But, once they get growing, I've had vines stand at ten feet tall. The fruit itself is sweet and solid with thin skin and less than average seed production. The fruits are usually about 6-8 ounces but I've had some grow to the size of a softball. I like them for both slicing and cooking. They also freeze well.

Roma Italian Green Beans: I quit growing all other types of green beans simply because the Roma's produce twice as many pods as any other bush bean I've sown. Not only are they heavy producers but they also grow twice as large as other green beans without getting tough. The Roma has a flat, smooth pod. From my experience, germination and harvest time is equivalent to other green beans varieties.

Armenian Yard Long Cucumbers: Not only is this cucumber a real producer but it is highly unique in appearance. Growing up to three feet long, it has a ridged outer skin that stays pale green in color. The Armenian seldom gets pithy, consistently producing solid, white flesh that is crisp and mildly flavored.

Semi-dwarf Okra: I don't have a favorite variety within the semi-dwarf line. I grow this type because the plants don't get huge and try taking over the garden. I find that the semi-dwarf produces just as much as the tall Okra varieties. Okra is a prolific producer, requiring daily monitoring because the vegetables grow quickly and become tough.

Jade Cross Brussel Sprouts: I had sixteen of these plants in my garden this season and they produced 8 beautiful gallons of sprouts. This variety holds up well in the heat and humidity of a Midwest summer with adequate amounts of water. The sprouts were well formed and were mild in flavor.

Danver's Half Long Carrots: I only plant one 32 ft row of these to keep us in carrots all winter long. And, they are good keepers. I've had them stay nice and crisp until late winter with proper refrigeration. I plant a row in the spring and other than water, they require little care until I harvest them in the fall. Danver's has a nice, sweet flavor. The flesh is bright orange and fine grained. These carrots average about 7 1/2" root growth but they can grow almost as long as regular varieties. I think carrots really respond well to raised bed gardening which is the particular type of vegetable gardening I subscribed to. The raised bed allows excess water to drain away so that the carrots don't get bogged down and rot.

Flat Dutchman Cabbage: These cabbages grow more oblong than round but they are dense and solid and resistant to cracking. It's nothing to pull a ten pounder out of the garden when they are ready to harvest. They are probably the best for heat tolerance when getting to the end of their growing season. They have a medium to strong flavor. The Flat Dutchman are great keepers with proper refrigeration.

Watermelon Mantang Hong Radish: An awesome radish for both flavor and presentation. The outside skin is white at the root and green closer to the foliage. When sliced, the rosy red center is revealed. Lovely. The Watermelon Mantang Hong Radish is a bit slower to germinate and produces after regular radishes but they grow twice the size, some up to 3 1/2" in diameter, while maintaining a sweet flavor. Never hot.

New Zealand Spinach: Another unusual variety, this leafy green must be planted after fear of frost. Unlike other spinach, this grows well all summer. Cutting it backs just promotes more growth. The seed is large and can be soaked in water prior to planting to aid in germination. It has a fairly strong flavor. The leaves are great for raw use in salads but they also hold up great in stir fry.

Early White Vienna Kohlrabi: Superior growth makes this vegetable from the cabbage family a real winner. Unlike it's cabbage cousin, it doesn't seem to be bothered by heat. I planted these at the end of June and they produced just fine. Flavored like a cabbage but textured more like a turnip, the meaty white flesh stays solid and crisp.

Ghost Busters Eggplant: When these little plants start producing, look out. It's nothing to see a dozen white eggs hanging from its branches. These eggplant don't get nearly as large as the regular black beauty eggplant but I think they stay solid longer. I also think they are a better keeper. I can't tell any difference in flavor.

Yellow Crookneck Summer Squash: I think anyone who's ever grown these has a horror story of how out of control they can produce. Great for frying and baking. They also freeze well. I slice them up and put them in freezer bags and use them for Summer Squash Casserole all winter long.

Black Beauty Zucchini: An old time favorite, Black Beauty is great for steaming, stir frying, and baking. This zucchini makes a lovely cake as well. A super producer. It stays solid as it grows large. Unfortunately, the squash bugs love this squash and I'm constantly doing battle with them over this vegetable. It's worth it.

I garden in zone 5. Hopefully, this list will help answer some of those questions asked about varieties and yields I hear so often. Whatever you decide to plant this next season---Happy vegetable gardening!

Along the Picket Fence: Seven Sisters Rambler Rose

I was a military brat. There was no white picket fence around my many yards. What I learned about gardening then was scratched out in patches just large enough to grow a tomato and a few marigolds without forfeiting the security deposit. I suppose when I chose the bones (the hardscaping which anchors the landscaping) for my present day gardens, it wasn't just to establish boundaries for garden beds. I needed to delineate a place called home.

The white picket fence is a thing of beauty, enhanced only by proliferous blooms spilling through the empty space between vertical supports. The following spring after our house was built, we set about installing all the fencing. The fence took our property from barren lot to established residence; the white pickets gave it curbside charm. Then, by adding the curving flow of garden beds to further define the greenspace, our new build became quintessentially characterized.

• To quickly add curving, flowing garden beds without going to great expense, I suggest using rolled edging. This type of edging immediately defines the bed from the greenspace and is essential in the control of weeds. The rolled edging is also a nice barrier to weedeat against.

One of the first perennials I planted along the picket fence was my Seven Sisters Rambler Rose. I can't recommend this variety enthusiastically enough. What a hardy specimen! In the past four years, Seven Sisters has weathered every extreme condition the Midwest climate can dish out. It has tolerated two severe droughts and a horrendous late spring freeze that wiped out some fairly stealthy perennials. The name Seven Sisters is derived from its multiple bloom sets, as many as seven roses per cluster. Often thought of as the romantic wild rose of the Old South, Seven Sisters arrived in Europe, and later in the United States, in the late 1800's from Japan.

Mine begins to bloom around the last week of May and continues typically through the first week of June. From the palest pink to the deepest orchid, the array of color is breathtaking. The double blossoms are profuse and resemble the cabbage rose on a tinier scale. Unfortunately for those of us who cherish this rose, it blooms only once per season.

Just this past summer, my Seven Sisters rose began to send out long, whispy canes. I can hardly wait for spring '09. Imagine the beauty of those double blossoms spilling over the white picket fence.

Bee Aware

A friend of mine works for a nursery. She tells a funny story about a customer who approached her for advice on planting an extensive flower garden. I guess the design the customer described was elaborately loaded with annuals and perennials. They were in the middle of hammering out the details when they ran into a snag. It seemed the customer was adamant about not wanting to plant flowers that would attract bees. (Gardeners go ahead and chuckle.)



I like bees. I'm particularly fond of the honey and the bumble. This past spring, we had a swarm of wild bees come into the garden. I found them a bit too aggressive for my taste but after a while we learned to tolerate each other. I got stung only once. As I was walking across the yard, I scooped one up with my flip-flop. Certainly not the bee's fault.


Unlike the wild bee, the honey and the bumble are fairly amiable creatures. My experiences with them are all good. I love how they move in waves in front of the water wand as we go about our respective businesses of pollen collection and garden watering.

It's amazing to watch them at work. I've seen bees so laden with pollen, its a wonder they could still fly. We can thank bees for about one third of the American food supply annually derived from plant production. Without bees, plants can't set and if they can't set, there goes the garden, the orchard, the farm. I could rant about Colony Collapse Disorder and preach about the perils of food shortages. Instead I'd rather share a few light hearted anecdotes about the bees I've met in my garden.


The bumble is very personable. A noisy, little fellow (actually workers are females but for the gist of the story . . . ) showed up one day and I nicknamed him Buzzsaw. For two weeks, I could tell just where Buzzsaw was located in the garden simply by listening. As if I hadn't noticed him, he liked to approach me and hover at ear level. Then there was the bombardier. I'm certain this poor bumble was nearsighted because he lacked the grace of his peers in flight. He wasn't much of a pilot, crash landing with such momentum the intended target (the flower) of his desire would try to catapult him back into the air. And lastly, there was Sleepy. I spied this bumble in slumber curled like a comma in the center of a peony, wings slightly aloft like rudders navigating the breeze while it slept.


The honey bees tend to be a bit more interesting as groups. I love to watch their ballet over a fragrant clump of red clover or hear their late afternoon concerto as their orchestra tunes up in the sweet basil patch. A couple summers ago, an entire colony stopped to rest in my garden. Apparently something had driven them from their previous home. They huddled in a football -shaped mass around a picket post, vulnerably waiting while the scouts went in search of new accommodations. I was a bit intimidated by their sheer number as I gently watered the flowers around that post. About four days later, right before dusk, the scouts alerted and the entire hive rose as one dark shadow into the sky. I wished them Godspeed. I hope they found a good home.

Estate Sale Procurement

New or used? Most of the time I apply the philosophy that new isn't always better, it's just more expensive. Let me say, right from the start, I don't apply that philosophy to power equipment. When I'm laying out big bucks, as I did last year for my commercial grade mower, I want to be the only owner and I want a warranty backing up my purchase. I do, however, apply that philosophy to a myriad of other items I buy for my gardens.

As a personal preference, I rarely stop at garage sales unless I know the person holding the sale is a gardener. If I want to dig round in an unorganized jumble of cast-off paraphernalia, I can do so in my own basement. Likewise, I'm not a big fan of auctions. The waiting around for my item to come up on the block and then losing it to a higher bidder is not only a waste of my time but is also downright annoying. For those reasons, I'm a conniseur of the estate sale venue only.

So let's get right to it. There are four distinct areas of a property to search during an estate sale: 1) the garage, 2) the shed and/or barn if the property has one, 3) the back yard, and 4) don't forget to take a look around the furnace or the hot water heater where many a good gardening tool hides in a layer of dusty cobwebs.

Back in the day when my gardening appetite was turning from hobby into obsession, I happened upon a lovely old wheelbarrow and purchased it for five dollars. At the time I assumed it was thirty, maybe forty years old because of its rugged steel frame construction and hardwood handles. I've pushed it around for close to a decade now and the only repair it's needed was a tire replacement. The old one dry rotted.

Then there's my two favorite hand-held tools, my turning fork and my furrow hoe, (at least that's what I call the latter because the metal implement at the end of its long wooden handle is shaped like a golf putter and cuts a neat furrow in a garden row), both found at estate sales. Much to my dismay, but after many years of loyal service, my turning fork broke. I'm actually thinking of replacing it with a brand new implement. I've got my eye on the Radius Garden NRG Pro Border Fork because of its ergonomic design and its rugged all-steel construction. It's the only one on the market that I think could keep the dogged pace of my old turning fork.

If tools aren't enough of a reason to brake for estate sales, what about putting the car in park for outdoor furniture? Early in the summer, I bought a five piece patio set for $47.50---that's four swivel rockers and a table. I had been considering two new resin wicker rockers and a matching table to the tune of $500. I feel I got a better deal.

Putting money aside, how cute is this set??? Love those quirky little clam-shaped chairs. The round rings at the bottom for balance of both chairs and table, compliment the circular structure of the gazebo. All summer long, we enjoyed this quiet retreat for just pennies on the dollar. Nice.

Because cottage gardening is an ecclectic mixing of many elements, annuals, perennials, shrubs, and even small trees in one garden bed, there needs to be an occasional anchor to give the look stability. Estate sales are a great place to find those objects that draw and demand our attention. My slat-back rocking chair was well weathered when I acquired it. Many people had passed right by it without as much as a cursory glance on their way through the front door. As I stopped to appraise its intrinsic value, I heard a woman behind me exclaim, "Oh, yuck!" Immediately the hair on the back of my neck began to bristle and I felt compelled to defend it. Ten well spent dollars later, my maligned friend's dignity was restored as it rode away from the sale in the back of our truck. The worn gray wood will never again hold paint but it has no problem at all holding an overflowing basket of brilliant blooms every spring. Sweet!

There are so many other great estate sale finds that I could go on and on. I won't. Here's the short list: wire baskets, old tin buckets, cast iron pot dollies, wooden flower boxes, concrete statuary, and last but not least, those obtuse but wonderful old metal storage cabinets that are great for keeping garden supplies safe and dry.

New or used? The choice for me is evident without further reasoning.

Preserve the Morning

The thermometer outside my office window is registering 30 degrees this morning. For the first half hour of wakefulness, I grumbled about the 40 degree decline in temperature. (Yesterday, we were near 70.) I was prepared to be cranky about it all day but then two things altered my predisposition.

I had just come from the kitchen with (1) a cup of my favorite caffeine concoction, tea brewed with a slice of apple, a cinnamon stick, two cloves, and a half a star anise, and as I sat down at my desk and looked out the east window, I noticed the (2) sunrise.

It's a bucolic scene from where I sit, grassy slopes of land dotted by trees and fence posts, a small barn behind a neighboring house and further back, a fixed line of timber representing the horizon. Just above this jagged black row, the sky glowed peach in color. I believe it was a pivotal moment of focus. I could rue the tactical of imagined physical discomfort or appreciate the visual of a fine fall morning. And, there was the added bonus of not having received the hard freeze last night that had been predicted.

I had expected to see slimy, black piles of frozen foliage dangling from flower pots and instead, my Martha Washington geranium is still upright and blooming. Bravo as well to the purple supertunia and the yellow angel trumpet, tender annuals enduring the chill without giving up. As amazed as I am at the resiliency of these flowers, I'm equally impressed by two of my neighbors, guys 70 years plus. The sharp, north wind is no deterrent as they go about, one idly strolling across his property while the other is tooling around in his golf cart. I guess over the years, they've developed a thick Midwestern hide that makes them impervious to the cold.

And me?

Since my change of heart at sunrise, I'd be right out there with them if it weren't for the brussel sprouts Dave and I harvested yesterday.

I've got eight gallon bags of jade cross brussel sprouts to put up. Priorities, right?

Preserving tip: The preferred method of preserving brussel sprouts is to blanche (immerse in boiling water) for 3-5 minutes and then immediately plunge them into ice water to stop the cooking action. Then the sprouts must be drained well before putting them into a freezer bag for storage. Personally, all that water dunking is a bit of a pain in my opinion. A couple years ago, I had an abundance of cabbage. I successfully preserved it by steaming. Using a large pot equipped with a steamer basket, bring water to boil and steam sprouts for two minutes. This is efficient enough to stop the enzyme action. Then the sprouts can go directly into a freezer bag, eliminating all that bathing and draining. Set bag aside until its cool to the touch and then pop it into the freezer. Easy!

Inconsistent Favoritism

My husband accuses me of being quite fickle when it comes to the naming of my favorite flower. In the early spring, I'm enthralled with my azaleas. A few weeks later, my adoration shifts to the peonies planted along the south wall of our garage. Then, of course, there's the iris, the clematis, the rose, all of which he's heard me exclaim in terms of preferential exclusion. (I'm only slightly offended when he laughs out loud at my inability to make a decision.)

In my own defense, I'm steadfast in my devotion to flower color. I'm crazy for pink in all its hues and variations. Recently, I read an article on this subject and learned the color pink is favored by most gardeners. To narrow the scope further, the hue of pink I desire most in a flower is the bubblegum pink of the Pink Double Delight Echinacea. Awesome! In summation, pink flowers rock my world.

And then the Jacobean lily blooms . . .


Okay, red is definitely not my favorite flower color. It doesn't even reign in as a close second (I prefer purple in terms of color succession) but, there's something very alluring about the vibrancy of the Jacobean lily, sprekelia formosissima. How to describe it?

Movie-star, lipstick red?

Sexy little red dress red?

Sports car red?

One way or another, the color is visually seductive. When it blooms in early July, all the other flowers in the garden suddenly pale in comparison.

A member of the amaryllis family, the Jacobean lily is a native of Mexico and Guatemala, z13-15, according to my bible: The American Horticultural Society A-Z encyclopedia of Garden Plants. So, when I was able to cultivate this bulb in z5, I deemed it short of miraculous. However, upon further research, I learned that many gardeners have had success cultivating it in z8-10. Nevertheless, I'm still z5, right? Turns out there's nothing all that unique about my gardening prowess. There's a guy in Nebraska, z4, who propagates this species in his garden on a yearly basis. He does admit to digging the bulbs before a killing frost and storing them in his basement.

Not to toot my own horn, but I never lift my bulbs from the ground or disturb them in any way because sprekelia, in its own right, has a capricious nature and might refuse to bloom the following season. So how does such a fickle flower survive in my garden in z5? Purely by fluke.

I was in WalMart a few years back and spring bulbs in their garden department were on 75% off clearance. The photograph of the sprekelia on the package caught my eye although the package itself was devoid of propagation information. At four bulbs for a dollar, I threw zone discretion to the wind and bought them. I rushed home and immediately consulted my bible (AHS A-Z) and much to my chagrin, discovered my newly purchased bulbs preferred undisturbed ground in a warm winter climate.

So be it. At that time, nothing much was growing under the dryer vent on the south side of my house so I dug a hole and unceremoniously tossed them in. A few flowerless sprigs of strap-like foliage unfurled from the ground that season.

Truthfully, by the next spring, I'd forgotten about those bulbs until I noticed their green fronds pushing up through the cypress mulch. By planting them in such an arid spot, I had accidentally assimilated their natural climate. The Jacobean lily has been growing and blooming there ever since.

So is the Jacobean lily my favorite flower? When its in full bloom in July, it is.

Food Pantry Gardening

As much as I love tending my perennial beds, I'm just as enthusiastic about my vegetable garden. In my usual haste for spring, I've plotted my garden rows on graph paper and I'm ready to start planting in February. (It's a pipe dream. We live in zone 5 where the last frost date is around April 22nd.) In order to quell the urge to drag the tiller from it's winter requiem, I settle for visiting my local greenhouse.

This past spring, on such a sojourn, I picked up a copy of The Kansas City Gardener, a locally published monthly garden guide, and was inspired by an article about donating homegrown produce to local food pantries. The article's content merely suggested planting an extra row, let's say green beans for example, and donating that row's harvest. Before I could finish the article, my green thumb started estimating the greatest amount of yield from the least number of plants. It's not that I don't have a nice sized garden, I do. However, I choose to garden in raised beds which comes with some limitations.

Money saving tip: If your green thumb overrules your conscious ability to reason---buy bulk seed. The three extra rows of green beans I planted from bulk seed cost me the same as one regularly priced seed package from a seed kiosk at the big chain stores.

Green tip: Plant a producer. I have a penchant for Roma Italian green beans because I can grow double the yield of regular green beans, they grow twice as large without becoming tough, and if properly refrigerated after picking, Romas have a longer lasting shelf life.

Before I planted the first seed, I asked for God's blessing. If I were to reap the amount of food on the scale I was imagining, I was going to need some extra help! After an extremely cold start (we were still in the 40's at night well into May) the vegetable garden began to flourish.

By season's end, even I was amazed at what one gardener could accomplish. I was able to make weekly donations for eleven consecutive weeks.

I thought it would be interesting to track the number of vegetables donated to the food pantry. Here are the totals:

4 gallons bags of carrots

10 zucchini (the squash bugs wreaked their usual havoc on my plants)

13 1/2 gallon bags of basil

15 gallon bags of Roma Italian green beans

18 green peppers

19 kohlrabi

19 cabbages

20 gallons bags of spinach

21 yellow crook neck squash

44 eggplants

86 cucumbers


and last but not least . . .


1,372 beautiful pink girl tomatoes!!!

Due to the economic crisis, food pantries and food banks are being stretched to their limits. Many have been forced to close from a severe decrease in donations and an overwhelming increase in recipients. I found, in speaking to food pantry managers, its a rarity when they receive fresh produce donations. From one gardener to another, I think we can change that.

I haven't pulled out my graph paper to start plotting my 2009 garden---yet! But, I'll readily admit I've bought most of the seed.

A Time to be Dormant

Sadly, it's that time of year here in the Midwest to dig the bulbs, tubers, and rhizomes from the garden beds. It's not the digging that saddens me as much as the cutting back of a season's worth of carefully cultivated foliage. Let's face it, for the last five months, I've coaxed, cajoled, and pampered Ipomoea Blackie and its companion red supertunia to flourish and conceal the containers in which they are planted through a stringent schedule of feeding and watering. So goes it for the luxuriant upright elephant ears, the oxalis, the pineapple lilies, etc. After a few quick snips with the clippers, all are reduced to clumps of stubbly green stalks.

Unfortunately, these tropicals and I are kindred spirits. We reside in a climate that forces us into a period of dormancy. Morose? Maybe a bit. Hopeful? Always. While I trade in my shorts, t-shirts, and flip flops for sweaters, jeans, and boots, my bulbs, tubers, and rhizomes trade their sunshine and rich soil for layers of mulch in containers that protect them from freezing. But, no matter how long this coming winters draws, inside there's still an energy quietly waiting to sprout forth into a new spring!

Money saving tip: Underneath all that lovely foliage of the ipomoea (Blackie, Marguerite, Ace of Spades-- just to name a few) is a wealth of potential new plantings for spring 2009. All summer long, those beautiful vines have been producing tubers beneath the soil. After I cut back the foliage, I carefully mine through the dirt and extract the potatoes. I never know what to expect to find and this year was no exception. One of my Marguerite vines produced a 6 lb, 2 oz tuber!!! After I've extracted all the tubers, I let them dry out for a few days in my laundry room and then I store them like any other bulb in the cool darkness of my garage. In late March, I pot the tubers and place them in a sunny window to get a head start on the planting season. It doesn't take long for the dormant tubers to wake up. As soon as there is a succession of nightly temperatures in the 50's, they are ready for outside planting.

Green tip: I particularly like to turn all the excess, non-woody foliage sheared from bulbs, tubers, and rhizomes into rich compost. I particularly like to compost elephant ear greenery. The high moisture content in the leaves and stalks is a plus in the compost bin.