Friday, February 27, 2015

March 2015


Planters Punchlines

Men’s Garden Club of Wethersfield

March 2015

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"The Gardens of Wickham Park "

@ Men’s Garden Club of Wethersfield March Meeting

Monday March 23 @ 7:00 pm in the Pitkin Community Center



The March 23 meeting of the MGCoW will feature two speakers from Wickham Park in Manchester, CT.  “Jack of All Trades” Duffy Brookes will speak about the history of the Park and all the Park has to offer – and he should know since he has been here since 1973!

          
The Park horticulturist, Susan Albin will talk about the many themed gardens within the Park, when they were installed and what makes each one unique, as well as discuss the many challenges faced maintaining public gardens, (I am guessing the deer may be mentioned in that talk!).  

See the  Park Gardens at www.wickhampark.org/gardens.html

          
The public is invited. 



Compostable Matter

By Jim Meehan



William Shakespeare once wrote, "Some are born gardeners, some achieve gardener-ness, and some have gardener-ness thrust upon them." – or something like that.

            
 I am definitely of the “thrust upon” class.

             
Neither my mother nor my father had the slightest interest in working in, or even near, a plot of land whose purpose was the growing flowers, fruit, or vegetables.  I had a couple of Aunts and one Uncle who grew mostly tomatoes in small plots in their backyards and my folks and I occasionally enjoyed some of their produce.  One of the Aunts sometimes watched me afternoons during my elementary school days and she would sometimes take me to pick dandelions from an empty lot across the street from her house.  It was kind of fun.

             
Then we would eat them in a salad.   Not fun.

             
We always lived in rental properties, so my home lawn maintenance experience was nil.  My first such experience was working for the New Britain Parks and Rec department during High School when I mowed the grass at one of the town’s public parks.  That lasted one summer.

             
I did zilch horticulturing through college, and for the first ten years of marriage during whichMars and I lived in an apartment in Rocky Hill.  Then we bought our first, and to date only, home in Wethersfield.

             
It came, as expected, with a lawn – not a significant one but at least an hour’s worth of walking behind the mower each time.  It also came, unexpectedly to me anyway, with a bevy of bushes and other unidentifiable (some to this day) shrubbery.  When I say unexpectedly I mean I saw them when we looked over the property and liked the look that they gave to the yard within which I saw myself lazing in my lawn chair during warm summer days.  It somehow hadn’t occurred to me that they grew – continuously.

             
And then there was the vegetable garden.  Mars’ father was an inveterate gardener, and a good one.  The backyard garden was just a fact of life for her.  So on our first Memorial Day weekend of home ownership, following my father-in-law’s directions and Mars’ plans, we dug up and planted our first of many vegetable gardens.  Much to my surprise this enterprise turned out to be the easiest of my horticultural challenges.

             
And then there was “Ernest” – the name that I gave to the guy who took care of my neighbor’s yard work because of his physical resemblance to the macho American novelist.  I still remember the first time I saw him.

             
He looked to be of retirement age, about six feet tall, and thin.  He was wearing clean, un-pressed tan chinos, brown work boots, a yellowing Irish knit sweater and a tan chino baseball hat.  The hat was planted firmly on his head, at a slight angle, with the left side up.   

A thin stream of white hair flowed out of the sides of the hat and continued down his cheeks, merging with a short-trimmed beard and moustache.  His neck was unshaven.  When he removed his hat, I could see that the hair on his head was military short.  It was a sunny day, but Ernest didn't wear sunglasses.   

He squinted (even in the shade provided by the long peak of his cap).  As he worked he removed layers.  First he took off his sweater to show a clean plain-white tee shirt.  Then the tee shirt came off to show an upper body, tanned and largely free of fat - but not muscular.

             
He worked continuously, pausing only for three things: to remove a layer of clothing, to take off his hat and wipe his forehead, or to smoke a cigarette.  He sat and smoked between jobs.  Between grass cutting and grass raking.  Between hedge trimming and hedge raking.  And before leaving. 

            
 The tools Ernest used were basic: a small, generic brand push power mower, hand operated pruning shears and a metal rake with several teeth missing.  His cigarettes, I surmised from the size of the pack, were either unfiltered "regular size" Camels (my father's brand) or Lucky Strikes (my former one).  The right hand that held the cigarette was always cupped.  He rested that hand on his left wrist and rested the left wrist on a crossed right leg.  He was very still when he smoked, except for his cupped hand slowly floating up to his mouth and back.

             
When he was done the lawn was uniformly short and clean, and the hedges were squared-off and flat.  He put his tools away and rode off on a blue one-speed bicycle, with his Irish knit sweater stuffed into a rusty handlebar basket.           


For eight years, during the yard-work season, Ernest came at least every other Sunday on that same two-wheeler to do his work. And virtually every time, and most Saturdays too, I was in my own yard trying to do the same. It wasn't in me to give my yard the squared-off look of Ernest's handiwork.  Instead I chose a less symmetrical layout, requiring much more intensive labor. 

             
As I pushed my mower, hand-turned my old and new gardens, or dug out my dandelions, I would stare over to see how I was doing compared to him - frequently at first, then less often. 

             
But I never totally stopped looking. 

             
As the real Hemingway wrote, “We are all apprentices in a craft where no one ever becomes a master.”



Rooftop Gardening For City Dwellers

By Nikki Phipps

(Author of The Bulb-o-licious Garden)




If you enjoy gardening but find yourself limited by space, rooftop gardening can provide an excellent alternative, especially for city dwellers. These gardens have numerous benefits as well. For instance, rooftop gardens make use of space that would otherwise go unnoticed or unused and can be quite attractive.

             
Rooftop gardens not only provide a unique way for urbanite gardeners to do what they love most, but can also save on energy since rooftop plants supply buildings with additional insulation and shade. Furthermore, rooftop gardens can absorb rainfall, reducing runoff.

             
Creating a Rooftop Garden Design

             
Nearly any type of roof can accommodate a rooftop garden. However, it’s important that you have a licensed professional check out the structural capacity of the building beforehand in order to assess whether or not the roof is stable enough to support the additional weight of a rooftop garden. This will ultimately determine the type of rooftop garden design [2] specific to your situation. Typically, rooftop gardens can be constructed one of two ways.

             
Rooftop Container Garden

             
The most common rooftop garden involves the use of lightweight containers. This design is not only popular but it’s easier to maintain, offers more flexibility, and is less expensive. Rooftop container gardens [3] are ideal for roofs with limited weight capacity as well and can fit any lifestyle or budget. In fact, many items, such as containers, may already be on hand and readily available to the urban gardener. These might include plastic butter bowls, Tupperware containers, or similar items that are suitable for growing plants. Add some drainage holes and you instantly have an inexpensive container.

             
Since weight issues can oftentimes be a factor in choosing appropriate containers for a rooftop garden, lightweight containers, such as these, are excellent choices. Fiberglass or wooden planters can also be used. Lining the bottoms of containers with a lightweight material, such as peat or sphagnum moss, is another good idea. Rooftop container gardens are extremely versatile too. Plants can easily be rearranged or relocated to different areas, especially during winter when they can be moved indoors.


Green Roof Garden

             
The other, more complex, rooftop garden construction involves covering the entire roof, or the majority of it, with soil and plants. Referred to as a ‘green roof,’ this type of rooftop garden uses layers to provide insulation, drainage, and a growing medium for plants. Since this type of construction is more difficult to create, the assistance of qualified professionals is often required. However, there are many suitable resources available for constructing your own ‘green roof’ system.

             
The first layer of the green roof is applied directly to the roof and is intended to guard against leaks as well as provide insulation. The next layer contains lightweight material, such as gravel, for drainage with a filtering mat positioned on top. This allows water to soak through while keeping the soil in place. The final layer includes both the growing medium and plants. Regardless of the type of rooftop garden design, growing mediums should always consist of lightweight soil or compost. The soil application should also maintain a depth that will not only sufficiently anchor plants but support the weight capacity of the roof as well since wet soil can get quite heavy.

            
 In addition to being attractive, rooftop gardens are energy efficient and easy to care for, requiring little maintenance once established other than occasional weeding or watering. For those with little space but no rooftop, such as apartment or townhouse dwellers [4], you can still enjoy the benefits of a rooftop garden by implementing a balcony container garden [5] instead. Whichever you choose, make sure your garden is easily accessible, and don’t be afraid to experiment. Even with the tiniest of spaces, city dwellers can have the garden of their dreams. Remember, the sky’s the limit, and with a rooftop garden, you’re that much closer to achieving your goals.



Garden Q.&A.

By Leslie Land – New York Times



The Worm Turns


Q. Do hot peppers “burn” earthworms the way they burn people’s lips? If so, should one avoid putting debris from chilies in compost piles?


A. The answer to your first question is yes. Worms are very sensitive to irritating chemicals, said Richard Pouyat, who studies urban ecosystems for the United States Forest Service. His work includes measuring worm populations, which he brings to the surface by saturating the ground with a solution of hot mustard in water.

             
Fortunately, worms that can rise to evade the mustard bath can also wiggle around other hot spots, so the answer to Question No. 2 is no (as long as your pile is seasoned with chilies, rather than composed of them).

             
And you need not fear that the worms will be burned before they know what hit them. They are very selective feeders, Dr. Pouyat said, and they would be able to sense the capsaicin responsible for the heat before they ate any of it.

            
 It is also likely that brief contact would hurt the worms no more than it hurts your lips. Though Dr. Pouyat’s populations are, as he put it “sacrificed for science,” those gathered in the same way by fishermen can live on indefinitely, though they seldom get the chance.


One Invader vs. Another
             
Q. A neighbor’s house is looming over my tiny Maine coast garden, so I am considering a hedge of hardy bamboo for privacy and erosion control. But locals are discouraging me. Is planting bamboo wise or not?

             
A. The bamboos that best control erosion are known as running bamboos, a title that describes speed as well as growth habit. Their robust rhizome networks help bind sandy soil, but they are rightly condemned as invasive.

             
A hedge of hardy clumping bamboo, on the other hand, should bother nothing but your wallet and could be a beautiful solution to your privacy problem. Just be warned that even hardy bamboos are cold-sensitive when young. And they are not happy in bright sun and salt wind.





Does Anyone Own A Swoe?

A gardenweb.com forum








Anne

I bought one a few months ago and it's the most worthless garden tool I own. It's supposed to remove weeds, but it takes about 3 times the force of a hoe to get the weed up. I can't see that it has any advantage over a hoe. I'm wondering if anyone here is happy with their swoe, and if so, could tell me how they're using it.



cynthia_gw    

Some well intentioned soul gave me one of these as a gift. I thought I might be able to use it as a hammer or a defense weapon in a pinch but it turned out to have no use or purpose. I made sure that left it was left in the shed at my last home.



mirka_g          

Return it to where you purchased it and try for an exchange for a different item



gardener_sandy          

I've never used a swoe but love a "scuffle" hoe or stirrup hoe. It cuts on the push and pull strokes and makes short work of weeds without having to "chop" at them like a traditional hoe. When hoeing weeds close to your plants you don't usually want to disturb the soil too deep anyway. That will bring up additional weed seeds and sometimes will damage the shallow roots of the plants you want to keep. The stirrup hoe only disturbs the top half inch or so of soil and is lots easier to use. JMHO



DawnStorm(7/MD)   

I cannot recommend a hula hoe enough! Whatever a swoe is, I'd exchange it for a hula hoe.



maronark(z6 CT)       

Last summer someone stole my swoe, what woe! For all of you who have posted spite for this sort of hoe, send it to me, they are hard to find and expensive in the USA. It is a wonderful tool for a quick garden touch up. It is not intended to break up the soil or cut well established plants and weeds, but rather to go through an established garden and nip new weeds in the bud. A swoe makes it easy to go in between rows of plants or across beds and aerate the soil as you slice through the top 1/2 inch of soil and cut down sprouting weed seeds with out bending down or getting to one's knees to pick them by hand. Do any of you unhappy souls want to put yours up on ebay so I can bid for it! Fooey on thee who took mine. My kingdom for a new swoe!



gflynn(z7 MD)          

Has the swoe ever been used in poetry or music?

I was asking because I have a painting at home that is a still life of sorts that is called "Apple, bottle, book, wenier dog and swoe".

I figured that if folks were willing to paint it that it may have been the object of song.

Greg



kathryn_marsh(ireland)         

Anyone who is using a hoe to "get the weeds up" needs to learn to hoe the easy way. The purpose of a hoe is to cut through the weed just below the soil surface so that it will wither and die, leaving its residues to be recycled by the soil life but disturbing the surface and turning up new weed seeds as little as possible. Chopping down into the ground is just asking for shoulder and back problems in the long run and leads to extra weeding. The swoe is a lovely tool, sharp on three edges, and will cut through weed stems closer to the plant you want to keep than any other I've tried. The art of the hoe is to slide it just under the surface so you don't disturb the surface and bring up more weed seeds.

If you do want to use the traditional American chopping motion can I recommend the cobra head which will hook out roots with less damage to its surrounding than others.

The value of the swoe can best be demonstrated by the fact that I've just had to buy my fourth (in forty years) because yet again its been stolen. and I'm delighted to find that the price here has just dropped by two thirds so I recommend shopping around.



schultzybear  

Sharpen your swoes with a grinding wheel. then you can slice thoe weeds close to your plants easily.  sorry all you folks didnt have someone to show you the best garden tool ever



fmart322(Z6SNJ)      

I'm gonna have to keep an eye out for one, sounds like a great tool. I have a hoe that is sharp, because I keep it that way. It's more like the type Sandy has. I keep it shap with a fine tooth knife file. Now THAT is a great tool to have.

Lee Valley has a great selection.



sfmiller(z7 MD)        

Ultimately it comes down to personal taste/preference, but I love the balance and lightness of this hoe for skim-weeding in tight quarters. It's lighter, more maneuverable, and, to my tastes, better balanced than the swoes I've tried.



Hunter01        

I purchased a swoe through Organic Gardening over 10 years ago. Paid less than $20 for it then and have used it every season since and wouldn't take today's new price for it. Handiest garden tool I own, even with having to replace the handle twice over time. This morning I cleaned the weeds from our entire raised-bed garden (9 beds, 12x4 ft.) in about 15 minutes. Then I sharpened it for the next use. Keeping it sharp and then practice through use are the two critical factors for efficient use and satisfaction.



Edible Landscaping Basics

What is Edible Landscaping?




Edible landscaping is the practical integration of food plants within an ornamental or decorative setting. The same design principles as for ornamental landscapes are used, while substituting edible plants such as lettuces, blueberries, vegetables and fruit trees for some of the otherwise unproductive plant material. Using edibles in landscape design can enhance a garden by providing a unique ornamental component with additional health, aesthetic, and economic benefits. Edible landscaping is a mixture of beauty and utility. However, edible landscaping doesn’t have to be all edible. In fact, filling the yard with edibles would often produce too much food for most families, not to mention time and work. Instead, careful planning and the judicious use of fruits, herbs, and vegetables results in a yard that is flavorful, practical, visually pleasing. As a bonus, it’s a great topic for conversation!

             
Homeowners in all climates-with small or large yards-can benefit from a trellis of cherry tomatoes cascading over the entryway, a fragrant border of colorful and flavorful basils, or a prolific semi-dwarf apple tree or two. There are tasty and ornamental edible plants for just about any garden setting in any climate. Only the most shady areas and soggy soils are not suitable. The sunniest spots and the areas with the choicest soil are best reserved for most fruit trees and annual vegetables. On the other hand, there are culinary herbs suitable for rocky or poor soils, and a few perennial edibles for wet locations. Theoretically, any edible plant can be used in an ornamental landscape; but practically and aesthetically, some are better suited than others.

             
Combining Edibles and Ornamentals:

             
Edible plants can be combined in many creative ways-with other edibles, or with ornamentals. For instance: try a cool-season border of lettuces and spinach interplanted with dwarf nasturtiums. All types of pepper are striking when combined with dwarf marigolds or a background of tall red salvias. In shady areas, try a border of alpine strawberries and curly parsley under a hedge of currants. For your dwarf fruit trees try planting them in geometric beds surrounded with a border of culinary herbs; or plant them along the driveway instead of the usual privet or junipers.

             
Edible Landscaping Design Elements

             
The most important design elements for an edible landscape are strong, firm lines and structure. With edible plants, the main goal is a diversity of food on your table and not just the look of your yard. However, in a purely aesthetic sense, adding edibles to your design provides a greater mixture of textures, forms, and colors than a typical ornamental landscape. In order to counterbalance this mix of plants, it helps to almost over-emphasize the line and structure of your landscaping elements.

             
A design consideration with edibles is the seasonal nature of the color-flowers, fruit, and/or foliage-and occasional times of reduced drama due to transplanting, harvesting, and soil cultivation. During these times, the importance of strong lines, as defined by pathways, patios, planters, hedges, evergreens, and structures, becomes evident. Long curving beds or interplantings of colorful flowering plants-edible or not-also help tie the design together and provide accents to intrigue your eye. Edible landscaping is more than just planting edibles. Without the backbone of an integrated design, an edible landscape can become just another scraggly vegetable patch.

             
With any edible landscape, I urge folks to start small. Small and simple means you can easily maintain what you’ve started. Temper spring enthusiasm with the knowledge that many edible plants not only need maintenance (mulching, watering, weeding, feeding, and pruning), but also take effort in the form of harvesting and cooking- and preserving a large harvest. Choose dwarf fruit trees over standard-size trees and select fruit varieties that spread the harvest over many months.


Healthy Plants are Beautiful Plants

             
Good design is important, but if the plants are not healthy, the best of designs is for naught. The keys to healthy plants are choosing the correct plant for the right place and properly preparing the soil. Most edible plants need at least six hours of mid-day sun to produce well, and be healthy. With few exceptions, most edible plant varieties require soils with fast drainage. Soggy soil is the culprit for many failed edible gardens. Annual fruits and vegetables need soil filled with lots of organic matter and a source of nitrogen.

             
Expect trees and shrubs in your landscape design to take from three to five years to start to look mature. On the other hand, annual beds filled with herbs, vegetables, and flowers can give you a colorful and tasty impact starting the very first season.

             
Certainly, an edible landscape is one of the most rewarding yards one can have. You’ll be able to grow tasty treats that can’t be bought for love or money, often with enough to share with friends and neighbors. An edible landscape is the only form of gardening that truly nurtures all the senses.



Horti-Culture Corner



It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold:

when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade.



~Charles Dickens, Great Expectations

Monday, February 9, 2015

February 2015


Planters Punchlines
Men’s Garden Club of Wethersfield
February 2015
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Hydroponic Gardening by Cell Phone"
@ Men’s Garden Club of Wethersfield February Meeting
Monday February 23 @ 7:00 pm in the Pitkin Community Center

Our January meeting was snowed out so we’ll try again in February. Wethersfield resident Paul Langdon will talk about his and Curt Downing's prize-winning compact, vertical hydroponic garden — made of PVC pipe, downspouts and gutters – that grows 160 plants and is controlled from a cell phone.   The public is invited. 

Compostable Matter
By Jim Meehan
           
Rushing the Season

Weeks before it comes, I look for spring in my garden

Pungency gives away the chives’ presence
Leading the way through
last year’s flaccid stems
to new, more eager sprouts

Renewed, I gently rake away debris
from stubby sedum’s
darkness defying
emerald coiled buds.

I’d like to believe it’s my wishing that makes it so.

The Roses Were in Bloom in the Public Garden in June.

(Contributed by Richard Prentice who received it from former club member Ben Nichols.  It was written by David L. Ryan and originally appeared in the Boston Globe.)
            
The Deptford Pinks are blooming in the lawn, their five jagged petals a clue that they are in the carnation family. Their clusters of sword-like leaves look a lot like crabgrass unless you notice the tiny buds. The oregano has bolted in the heat, making the leaves bitter but sending up spikes of foamy white flowers. In another, more formal garden, these plants would be considered weedy or invasive, fit for the compost heap. But in my blowsy summer yard, weeds are just a social construct. The genetic differences between the wildflower pinks and the cultivated Dianthus for sale at the garden center are vanishingly small; only our attitudes create a divide.                                                              

This is one of the many insights I’ve received this year from the garden, my favorite spot for revelation. The slow, repetitive movements of snipping, digging, and mulching give rise to such reflection, as the mind settles down and makes way for new ideas. By mid-summer I have assembled a catalog of observations. Here are a few more:     

Every living thing can be redeemed. Our bumper crop of bunnies this May nibbled the Echinacea down to a nub, and I hacked the lavender back by two-thirds, removing chunks of dead, woody stems that were still redolent with a dreamy scent. I thought both plants were goners, but the Echinacea fought back and even spread to new areas, and the lavender is better than ever, the long graceful spikes yearning toward the sun. A few yellow Rudbekia or bright pink Cosmos can be counted on to self-seed where no one intended them to bloom, making the most carefully diagrammed plot look like clown’s pants. A garden is unpredictable, unruly; we cannot control it. That is precisely its charm.                                                                                                                                     
Not even perennials are permanent. It’s a bad year for mophead hydrangeas, a classic New England shrub, thanks to our polar vortex last winter. The thyme and tarragon I can usually gentle over with a judicious application of mulch also fell victim to the hard winter. And where are the bee balms of yesteryear? On the other hand, it’s been a great year for lilacs, irises, and the aforementioned bunnies. Years with a heavy snow cover are bad for hawks but good for mice. Which means it should be a good year for cats.                                                                                                                                    
Thinking about such seasonal vagaries, I am reminded of the familiar fable about the farmer whose prize horse runs away. “This is terrible!” says his son. The father shrugs. “We’ll see,” he replies. Some weeks later the horse comes back, bringing with it two beautiful wild horses. “This is wonderful!” says the son. “We’ll see,” says the father. The son rides one of the beautiful wild horses, falls off, and badly breaks his leg. “This is horrible!” wails the son. “We’ll see,” says the father. The next day the king’s army arrives, recruiting every able-bodied young man for war. The injured son is spared.                 

We’ll see. That’s the only attitude to take when it comes to the cycles of the natural world. When the hydrangea doesn’t bloom, we tend to take it personally. But it isn’t about us.                                                                                                                                 

Nature isn’t good or bad. The hawk doesn’t kill the mouse out of malice — though I’m not so sure about the cat.                                                                                            

Sometimes all this garden wisdom seems contradictory. The caprice of weather — the droughts, blights, flash floods, and early frosts — reminds us that we can only have the present moment. You have to cherish every achy, sweaty morning on your knees in the dirt. And yet the very act of planting a perennial garden is a statement of hope in the future — the belief that we will be around next summer to smell the peppery garden phlox, the mind alive with possibility.                                                                            
How do these truths reconcile? You can only tend to your plants today, but if you do it well, the present will take care of the future. This fall’s application of lime or aluminum sulfate is next year’s pink or blue hydrangea. Well, maybe. 

Growing things teaches us that conditions are always changing. Like a moving river or a perfect August day, we are never in the same garden twice.

Want To Stop Killing Your Plants?
Parrot's New Tools Take The Gardening Out Of Gardening
You might have a green thumb after all
By Lindsey Kratochwill - popsci.com (Popular Sciene)

          
It may look like a normal flower pot, but it's got sensors inside
             
As I've learned, raising a plant isn't as easy as it looks. I water too much or too little and what was plush green foliage when I brought it home turns to a sad withered crisp. Pot, which Parrot announced at CES this year, might make it possible for me to actually grow the indoor garden of my dreams. This is part of the company's next generation of connected gardening products. A few years ago, Parrot released Flower Power, which would alert you when it was time to water your plants, give it a little fertilizer, or show it some extra sun.
             
Pot has similar sensors. Every 15 minutes, Pot records the data that its sensors detect: soil moisture, fertilizer levels, ambient temperature, and light. If you're conscientious enough, you can take a look at that data, which is sent to your smart device via Bluetooth Smart. The real kicker, though, is that Pot can take care of the watering too. No need for your plant-killing hands to touch a watering can.
             
A two-liter reserve holds water, and four spigots dispense the sweet nectar to your plants. But wait, if you're terrible at watering plants, wouldn't that mean you're terrible at remembering to fill up Pot when it gets low? Fear not, Parrot has thought of this too. When the water gets below a certain level, Pot will go into conservation mode, with the aim of keeping you plant alive for as long as possible. Pot is slated for release some time this year.

Garden Q&A
By Stephen Or- NY Times
Alternatives to the Usual
            
 Q. I want to plant a small flowering tree in a sunny spot in my garden this spring. There are already dogwoods, cherries, plums and redbuds in my neighborhood. Can you suggest a few spring-blooming alternatives?
             
A. Even if you are in the mood for something unusual, you don’t have to resort to the exotic. There are several underused American natives that fit your request. They may not match the vividness of familiar Asian species in full bloom, like the frilly double-flowered Kanzan cherry, but their quiet beauty will draw many admirers. And most will grow no more than 30 feet high, the textbook definition of a small garden tree.
             
One of the most graceful, Carolina silverbell (Halesia tetraptera), has dangling hoop skirts of pure white flowers followed by lobed fruit. In “Dirr’s Hardy Trees and Shrubs: An Illustrated Encyclopedia,” Michael Dirr, a woody-plant expert, praises its merits: “The flowers, in a subtle, not boisterous way, are among the most beautiful of all flowering trees.”
             
Other Halesia varieties that may do the trick include Rosea, a pink form, and Variegata, which sports white flowers and variegated leaves. A shorter variety, Wedding Bells (above), has large white flowers and reaches 20 feet.
             
Another good candidate is the serviceberry (Amelanchier), a white-flowered shrublike tree with several useful varieties. They include the elegant Allegheny serviceberry, which blossoms into a cloud of white and looks at home in either a woodland or a small garden. According to folklore, the serviceberry got its name from 19th-century settlers heading West who knew that when the tree was in bloom, the ground had thawed, so it was time to dig graves and bury those who had died during the winter.
            
 For a dramatic statement in the garden, the fringe tree (Chionanthus virginicus) is sculptural even when not in bloom, thanks to its graceful, often-multiple trunks. In the later part of the season, in May and June, it produces a spectacle, covering its twisting branches with a fragrant threadlike bunting of delicate white flowers.
             
The Eastern redbud (Cercis canadensis) may not interest you because of its ubiquity, but consider its white variety, Alba, or Forest Pansy, a darling of plant aficionados several years ago, which has pink blossoms and dark purple leaves. A new, harder-to-find variety, Hearts of Gold, has vivid yellow foliage that leafs out after the decline of its hot pink flowers.
             
If you must have something exotic, though, consider two non-native trees: the Japanese snowbell and the yellowhorn from China. The snowbell (Styrax japonicus) resembles a Halesia and, like other light-colored flowering plants, looks best against a backdrop like a solid wall or a dark hedge. The yellowhorn (Xanthoceras sorbifolium) has shiny dissected leaves and scented white crepelike flowers with yellow and red centers. It is relatively rare but worth the trouble to find.

Winter Blooming Mystery
             
Q. Recently I was surprised to see a leafless shrub in full bloom with pink flowers that had a strong fragrance. What could it be?
             
A. What you saw — and smelled — was almost certainly the Chinese import Viburnum farreri. During warm spells between December and February, it sporadically sends out pink-tinged waxy blossoms that emit a heavy, almost tropical scent.
            
 If you are a keen-eyed plant lover, there are quite a few other little winter-blooming things out there to notice, even now. As Vita Sackville-West wrote in a 1953 newspaper column: “The courage of some small and apparently fragile flowers never ceases to amaze me. Here are we humans, red-nosed and blue-cheeked in the frost and the snow, looking dreadfully plain; but there are the little flowers coming up, as brave and gay as can be.”
             
Not only do these fragile flowers bloom in the harshest time, but many also send out incredible fragrances as a way of luring pollinators. Scott Canning, the horticulture director at Wave Hill in the Bronx, said that the winter bloomers, many of which are from China, were flowering now “to avoid competing with plants that come out later during the peak blooming season.”
             
Mr. Canning has several favorites, including the plant you described, that sprout fragrant flowers in winter. Most of them are moderate size and easy to grow in a small garden. (Plant them near a walkway or entrance where you’re more able to appreciate them.) They include Edgeworthia chrysantha, which has dangling mops of large butter-yellow flower clusters and a spicy gardenia-like scent that can be appreciated from afar.
             
Wintersweet (Chimonanthus praecox) bows its heads of translucent pale yellow and maroon petals shyly, as if waiting to greet a visitor. A few cut branches indoors will make the whole house fragrant.
             
Slow-growing sweetbox (Sarcococca humilis) is an evergreen ground cover with white flowers so puny that they would go unnoticed if not for the sharp aroma of cinnamon and cloves.
             
Winter honeysuckle (Lonicera fragrantissima) is more leggy shrub than vine and needs pruning, but it rewards with a fruitlike scent.
             
Then there’s the classic Chinese witch hazel (Hamamelis mollis, above), not to be confused with the equally fetching winter hazel (Corylopsis). Sackville-West’s description, from a 1956 column: “Its flowers are extraordinarily frost-resistant. On winter mornings you can see the crinkled gold coming through the rime like sugared crystallized fruits.”
             
Though the days have been getting longer since Dec. 21, these ethereal flowering plants offer an even louder announcement of the distant arrival of spring.
             
By midsummer, they will be lost in the crowd of green-leaved shrubs, but for now ... hurrah!

Mother Nature’s Weather Forecasters
By Mindy McIntosh-Shetter – urbangardencasual.com

             
I have always looked toward nature as my predictor of the weather.
             
Learning the weather patterns of ones local area is very beneficial to gardeners.
            
 It can help the gardener decide when to put the cold or cool season crops in and can provide some guidance as to fall and winter crops.
             
The key to this technique is knowing what to look for, when to look for it, and understanding what you see.
             
WOOLY WORM
             
Wooly worms are famous as bad winter predictors. It is believed that if the caterpillar is solid black, the whole winter will be abnormally bad. On the other end of the spectrum, it is believed that if the caterpillar is brown or light brown this is an indication of a mild winter. Wooly worms have 13 sections and each section represents one week of the winter season. If the wooly worm is in bands of black and brown, this is an indication of a winter that is going to have a lot of changes.
             
SQUIRRELS
             
In the fall, squirrels are busy collecting food for the winter. Some believe that the winter can be predicted by how actively the squirrels collect food. If they seem to be collecting like crazy, then it is believed that they are preparing for a bad winter. If they do not seem to be too worried about storing food, then the winter will be mild.
             
While there are some gardeners that live by this, I do not really follow this sign. It has been proven that the reason squirrel scamper to collect food is not because they are predicting a bad winter but instead they forget where they bury their food. The more food they bury in different places the better their chances are of finding the food.
             
PLANTS
            
 Some plants have been used as weather predictors. Any tree or shrub that produces berries or nuts in the fall is viewed as a winter predictor. The principle behind this is that these plants will produce a lot of berries or nuts that contain seeds. If it is going to be a bad winter, the plant is ensuring its species survival by producing a lot of possible offspring. If the winter is going to be mild, it is believed that the plant will not put that much energy into producing future offspring.
            
 PERSIMMON SEEDS
             
Persimmon seeds have been used for years as a winter predictor. It is believed that the shape of the inside of the seed can determine the type of winter. If the inside of the seed is shaped like a knife, it is going to be a bitterly, cold winter. If the inside of the seed is shape like a spoon, it is going to be a winter with a lot of snow. If a fork shape appears on the inside, it is going to be a mild winter.
             
LADYBUGS
             
The common red-shelled ladybug, believe it on no, is 100 percent accurate in its winter weather prediction. It is not understood how this simple insect does it but its ability to be accurate is a matter of life and death.
             
The simplest way to understand what the ladybug is telling you is looking where they are going to in the fall. If you find them in the garden soil while you are doing your last garden cleanup, then it is going to be a mild winter. The soil temperature will be sufficient enough to carry them through the winter. If, on the other hand, you find them in your home, attic, shed or any other warm, sheltered area, then it is going to be a bad winter. The additional covering is crucial to their survival when the winds of a severe winter blow.
             
While I have used some of these techniques, the ladybug approach is a new one to me but I am going to try it. While I was out in the garden doing some cleanup I disturbed some ladybugs that had made home in the soil. This was a welcome site and with this information I began planting again in my garden space instead of closing it down for its winter slumber. Only time will tell if my ladybugs are accurate. If they are, I will enjoy some extra time in my garden. If they are not, the only thing I have lost is a little seed.
             
So until we blog again, open Mother Nature’s book of knowledge and comprehend the messages she is sending us. Some may be old wise tales while others may contain scientific fact. But planning our gardens by Mother Nature’s cycles makes us all better caretakers of the Earth and all that it abounds.

“Kiss Your Ash Good Bye”
by Thomas Christopher – gardenrant.com
     
That’s what the Massachusetts state forester told me – the emerald ash borer is on the loose in southern Berkshire County where my wife and I have our 130-acre woodlot and within the next couple of years this pest is expected to kill virtually all the native ashes, or roughly 5% of the forest trees, in this region. In fact, this mortality is expected to become general throughout Connecticut, too, and eventually throughout southern New England and beyond. And to my mind, it is a good argument for the creation of GMO plants.
             
This loss of trees to an introduced Asian pest is even more grievous in context. My region lost all its American chestnut trees (as much as 1/4th of the hardwood trees) to the ravages of an introduced Asian virus in the early part of the 20th century. More recently, it lost most of its hemlocks (an estimated 6% of the forest trees) to an introduced Asian insect pest. If the Asian Longhorn Beetle ever escapes from its limited urban outbreaks into the forest in general, 73% of the forest trees in southern New England would be at risk.
             
Asian ashes, chestnuts, and other trees which evolved alongside the Asian pests have a natural resistance. American scientists have tried to interbreed these Asian trees with their American relatives to transfer the resistance but given the long time it takes a tree to grow from seed to sexual maturity, progress has been painfully slow.  A 35-year effort by the American Chestnut Foundation to breed a resistant American chestnut, for example, has only begun to produce significant results in the last few years.
             
Genetic engineering offers a far more efficient way to insert genes for pest resistance into the DNA of American trees. This has already been accomplished with American chestnut trees and Dr. Paula M Pijut, a research plant physiologist with the U.S. Forest Service, has been working on something similar for several species of North American ash trees in her laboratory at Purdue University. Both of these projects have been accomplished in a time scale of years rather than decades. An additional advantage of genetic engineering is that it is possible to produce resistant trees that differ from their American ancestors by only a handful of genes rather than the compromise Asian-American hybrids produced by conventional breeding techniques.
             
I’m no fan of GMO food, but GMO trees seem to me a far better alternative than a biologically impoverished forest.

Back to the Future with Sustainable Lawns
By Thomas Christopher – gardenrant.com
             
What is cutting edge in the field of sustainable lawns? Much of it is forgotten lore from the late 19th/early 20th century, I have been discovering.
             
I came upon this revelation while preparing for the talk I am going to give this month at a conference organized by Larry Weaner that is to be hosted in Philadelphia by the Morris Arboretum and in New London, CT by Connecticut College.
            
 The basis of my talk will be my own experiences with alternatives to Kentucky bluegrass and the two or three other turf grasses that are the default choices for lawns today. My thesis is that if you broaden your sights and find a grass species that is naturally adapted to the soil and location, you shouldn’t have to cater to it with constant chemical applications and endless irrigation. Grassland, after all, is one of the toughest types of plant communities, commonly flourishing where conditions are too difficult to permit the growth of woody plants.
            
 This, I believed was an original thought, until I spent a couple of days reading late-19th-century gardening books at the New York Botanical Garden library. Published before the advent of the modern chemical industry, these presented a much more sensible and relaxed view of lawn care.
            
 For example, Lawns & Gardens by N. Jonsson-Rosé (G.P. Putnam’s Sons, 1897) included a list of two dozen wildflowers you can include with the grass when you sow a new lawn. Jonsson-Rosé might not have recognized the term “biological diversity” but his lawns were certainly no monocultures and definitely pollinator-friendly.
            
And in Lawns and How to Make Them by Leonard Barron (Doubleday, Page & Co. 1914) I found recommendations for 13 different grass species, each one accompanied by a description of the type of soil and conditions that suited it best. Included in this list are several species such as sheep fescue that I have been using to create self-sufficient, low-input lawns. There is even one species in Barron’s list, sweet vernal grass (Anthoxanthum odoratum) that was mixed with other grasses simply to give the lawn a sweet odor when it was cut. That might make you almost look forward to mowing.
             
My favorite tip from these books: control dandelions by inviting Italian immigrants in to harvest the greens every spring.

Horti-Culture Corner
From H.L. Mencken

"An idealist is one who, on noticing that a rose smells better than a cabbage, concludes that it (the rose) will also make better soup."

You Might be a Redneck Gardener If:

You mow your lawn and find a wheelbarrow.

A half moon reminds you of your fat husband pulling weeds.

You think a chain saw is a musical instrument.

You move your refrigerator and the grass underneath it is yellow.

Kudzu covers your arbor.

You don’t water your front yard rather than mow it.

You know how many bags of fertilizer your car can hold.

You’ve ever cleaned your house with a leaf blower.

You empty the trash when you have enough to fill up the pickup.

You can amuse yourself for more that an hour with a hose.

You’ve been cited for reckless driving on a riding lawn mower.

You move your weed-eater to take a bath.

- Culled and Revised by Mike Garofalo