Planters
Punchlines
Men’s Garden Club of Wethersfield
April 2016
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Uncover the Weston Rose Garden - Saturday
April 16 @ 8:00 a.m.
Weed, cut dead wood, then weed some more. Last year we spent
the whole summer fighting the weeds that got a foothold in the spring and never
gave it up.. BYO tools & thorn-proof gloves. Mulch in mid-May. Regular maintenance will begin at a date
t/b/d.
Monthly Meeting - Monday April 25 @ 7:00 p.m.
@ Wethersfield Community Center.
Plant Sale Planning. Pots
and labels for donated plants will be available.
Annual Plant Sale - May 7 (Rain Date May 14)
This is our major fundraiser. CRITICAL NEED - Club members are asked to contribute
“home grown” perennials to the sale.
If you do not have your own plants to donate – seek them
out from friends, or neighbors.
Plants being donated should be split and potted as soon as
possible in order to allow them time to
develop in the pot and look good for the sale.
Please label all plants. Contact Fred
Odell (860.529.6064) for official
pots, potting soil, and plant labels.
Compostable Matter
By Jim Meehan
Many of you
may know that John Oldham (whose namesake descendent is a member of our very
own men’s garden club) was the leader of the “Ten Adventurers” who founded the
town of Wethersfield, Connecticut in 1634.
But what none of you are aware of is the true story of why these brave
explorers transplanted themselves from their homes in the Massachusetts Bay
Colony to the unsettled land of "Quinnehtukqut".
The Massachusetts
Bay Colony (or MaBaCo) as its residents referred to it was settled by a bunch
of English folks who sailed across the pond from Southampton to Plymouth in two
waves – in 1623 on the Mayflower and 1630 on the Arbella. They all were Puritans (believers who wanted
to “purify” the Church of England of its Catholic tendencies) – but the
Mayflower travelers wanted to cleanse the church from within
(”Non-Separatists”), while those on the Arbella (“Separatists”) wished to
totally leave the C of E and strike out on their own.
Much
theological turmoil ensued. Or so we all
were taught. But that was only part of
the story.
For
traveling with each of these groups was a third faction of religious rebels who
not only wished to sever all ties to the Church of England, but to establish a
totally new religion based upon the horticultural teachings of God beginning
with the book of Genesis. They were known in religious circles as “Garden-ists”
– and John Oldham and his band of Adventurers were its leaders. The place within which they chose to sow
their Garden of Eden was – you guessed it – a six-mile tract along the Quinnehtukqut
River, which we now call Wethersfield.
Now a
full-frontal assault on Puritan values would clearly fail. So in order to disguise their true intentions
Oldham and his merry men called themselves “The Gentlemen’s Congregation for
the Advancement of Floriculture in Wethersfield.” Among themselves they called the group
Wethersfield’s Theological Farmers or “WTF”
To
determine the primary crop around which this sect would rally Oldham, et al.
looked of course to the scriptures – wherein, on their first two random
searches, they found:
Numbers
11:5 “We remember the fish we ate in
Egypt that cost nothing, the cucumbers, the melons, the leeks, the onions, and the garlic.”
Isaiah
1:18 “Come now, and let us reason
together, saith the LORD: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.”
And, as
clearly directed by their Lord, they chose as the object of their horticultural
homage what came to be called the Wethersfield Red Onion.
Minor
setbacks occurred – such as the death in 1636 of Oldham resulting in the Pequot
War, the annihilation of the tribe, and ultimately the appearance of a
casino. Other
members of the original Gentlemen’s Society also dropped off over the years but
the organization continued to attract gathered new members – all the while
staying off the Puritan radar screen.
However, as often happens in such cults, as time went on the religious
fervor of the new WTF-ers waned and more secular interest took over. Not coincidentally this change in emphasis
occurred as the red onion became “The” major cash crop that drove the town’s
economy.
During the
17th, 18th and early 19th centuries one of the most important industries in
Wethersfield was the cultivation of the Red Onion. Thousands of ropes of onions were shipped
yearly down the Connecticut River to the West Indies where sugar plantation
owners made it an important part of the diet of their enslaved workers as the
onions are rich in vitamin C. Onions were traded for sugar, salt, tea, coffee,
spices and molasses from which New Englanders made rum. Merchant ships that
carried that cargo were built by local shipbuilders, often in partnership with
residents of nearby towns.
As many as
500 local residents were involved in onion cultivation. One-third of
Wethersfield’s onion producers were women, referred to as “onion maidens.” Most
onion maidens worked in the fields for other growers. Some however, grew and
sold their own crops. And a few women acted as agents not only for themselves,
but also for other onion growers, including men. In 1774 Alexandria Frazier
shipped 6,782 ropes of onions on behalf of 41 workers, 7 of them women. The
onions even became a form of currency within the town. In 1764 Wethersfield
leaders levied taxes to build what is now the First Church of Christ
meetinghouse. Many residents paid in the form of onions, making it known as
“the church that onions built.”
The
prevalence of the Onion Maidens and the lack of religious fervor of its new members
reduced the club’s sphere of influence.
Then in May of 1781, word spread that General George Washington and French
General Jean Baptiste Donatien de Vimeur, comte de Rochambeau were to meet
again at Wethersfield to confirm the joining of their forces outside New York
for a possible attack on the center of British power in America.
And the Theological
Farmers decided to welcome the generals with a red carpet of Wethersfield’s
preeminent crop – because WTF!
Unfortunately a light rain fell onto the onion-skin rug making it too
slippery to negotiate. Washington went
down first with Rochambeau falling on top of him.
The Garden-ists
tried to laugh it off by saying that the town could now advertise that “George
Washington slipped here!” – but the rest of the village failed to see the humor
and future value to its tourist trade.
The organization wisely disbanded
Fifty years
later the combination of a blight known as pinkroot and the end of the
plantation system in the West Indies in the 1830s signaled the end of the reign
of the red
onion. Tobacco and garlic supplanted the onion crop.
Wethersfield transitioned to
cultivating seed for the newly settled West.
By that
time, even though there were many Wethersfield Tobacco Farmers in the village,
The Gentlemen’s Congregation for the Advancement of Floriculture in
Wethersfield had deliberately faded from the collective memory of the
town. And it was only by the sheerest
luck that I came across the documents upon which this tale is based – many of
which may actually be historically accurate.
What type of Gardener are you?
www.quotev.com
1What would you do if you admired a plant growing in your
neighbor's yard?
Compliment your neighbor on the plant
and hope he offers you a cutting/division.
Beg and plead with your neighbor for
a cutting or division.
Sneak out in the cover of night and
take a cutting or division.
Find out what the plant is and buy a full-size
version at the garden center.
Admire the plant from a
distance...your garden is perfect the way it is.
2 What do you spend most of your time doing in the yard each
week?
Mowing
Trimming shrubs and trees
Planting, dividing, and sowing seeds.
Pulling weeds
Barbequeing
3 What type of fertilizer do you use the most often?
Miracle-Gro Bloom Booster
A general purpose 10-10-10
Leaf litter, grass clippings, and/or
potato peels
Cow manure, or any other kind
I only fertilize plants that cry out
for it.
4 Do you have a plant collection, that is several cultivars
of the same species?
What's a cultivar?
No...why would I do something like
that?
Too many colors of the same plant
looks disjointed.
Yes, I have 30 different bromeliads
in my garden!
I am currently working on at least
five different collections.
Of course, and I can tell you the
name of each cultivar!
5 How do you feel about your hands?
My nails are always dirty and broken,
and, yes, my cuticles are always torn.
A few scratches from trimming roses
never hurt anyone!
I get a manicure every week!
I only garden with gloves.
My hands look great because I hire
help to do the dirty work.
6 What is your mulch of choice?
Shredded Rubber...it lasts and lasts!
Leaf litter...a little organic
matter, please!
Pine Bark or Straw
Cypress Mulch
Dyed Bark or Mulch
7 In your opinion, what is the secret to successful
gardening?
Accomplishing year-round color in the
garden
Neatly clipped hedges and a neatly
edged lawn
Putting the right plant in the right
place
Collecting every plant that can grow
in my climate
Having good foundation plants with a
few phenomenal specimens.
8 What are your thoughts on the subject of weeds?
Weeding is a necessary chore, but I
won't lose sleep over a few weeds here and there.
Weeding is the bane of my existence!
You won't find any weeds in my
garden!
I know every weed by its botanical
and common names!
Ever heard of Roundup?
I sometimes lose whole garden beds to
weeds!
9 How do you feel about critters in the garden?
I can pull weeds for hours,
completely oblivious to bees and wasps buzzing 'round my head.
I run to get the camera when I see a
snake!
Ever heard of bug spray?
I stay inside as much as possible because
I hate bugs!
I really don't like spiders, but I appreciate
the job they do.
No nasty beasties in my garden!
10 Where did you get most of the plants in your garden?
I inherited this landscape when I
bought the house. Can't name any of the
plants though.
Most of my plants were pass-alongs
from friends and family. They are all
special to me!
I am a scratch gardener! I grow everything from seed or cutting.
I drew a sketch of my garden on
paper, then began purchasing plants to fill in the design.
I've collected plants here and there
from a variety of sources over the years.
11 How often do you visit a plant nursery or garden center?
They know me by name!
They run and hide when they see me
coming!
I go to a garden center once or twice
a year.
Every weekend! It's what I do for fun!
I own a plant nursery.
12 Where can visitors sit and relax in your garden?
One of many benches along secluded
garden paths.
A comfortable swing under the old oak
tree.
On the adirondack chairs next to the
pond.
There are soooooo many choices!
There's nowhere to sit in my
garden! Who has time to sit?
Well, we do have a table and chairs
on the patio.
13 How many bird baths do you own?
I plan to get a bird bath one day....
Bird baths are tacky and hard to keep
clean.
I own one bird bath.
Two or more...The more birds the
merrier!
I'm afraid of birds! Haven't you seen the movie?
14 How many garden hats do you own?
Only one, but it's a good one.
Three or more...I need one to be handy
at all times!
What do I need a hat for? My garden is shaded by huge oak trees?
Garden hats are for dorks!
I love hats. They keep the sweat from stinging your
eyeballs.
Roasting sunflower seeds
http://giantveggiegardener.com
I recently
did a post on sunflowers with some great pictures. I grow sunflowers for
attracting beneficial insects, feeding birds and because they are beautiful.
But there is something else you can do with them—you can roast the seeds from
the heads after the flowers fade and EAT THEM!
The biggest sunflowers like Titan, Kong, Giant Gray Stripe and Mammoth
which produce big seeds are best. Cut the heads off when the plants are
starting to fade and the sunflowers plant yellows. Then let the heads finish
drying till they are brown and dry but move them inside as the birds will start
to eat the seeds if they find the heads. The smallest flower heads I leave out
around the garden for the birds to get the seeds.
After the
big flower heads are dried, rub off the front of the flower head to reveal the
tightly packed sunflower seeds. Using your thumb, start to rub from the edges
and the seeds will release and continue till you get most of them. I do this
outside as it is a bit messy with dried parts everywhere. I just sit at my outside
patio table to do this. Clean out the dried flower parts from all your seeds
before the next step.
Now you’re
ready to salt and roast your seeds. The following recipe is provided by the
National Sunflower Association—sunflowernsa.com:
Cover
unshelled sunflower seeds with salted water, using 1/4 to 1/2 cup of salt per 2
quarts of water. Soak seeds in the salt solution overnight. The next morning,
drain off the water and pat the seeds dry to remove excess moisture. (You can
also roast the seeds unsalted — simply skip the soaking process.)
Preheat the
oven to 300 degrees Fahrenheit. Spread the sunflower seeds evenly on a cookie
sheet or in a shallow pan, and bake for 30 to 40 minutes or until golden brown,
stirring occasionally. The seeds often develop a small crack down the center as
they roast. Taste after each stirring to see if the seeds are completely
roasted. After roasting, remove seeds from the oven and allow them to cool
completely. Store the seeds in an airtight container for future snacking. YUM!!
Horti-Culture Corner
From H. Fred Dale
"My green thumb came only as a result of the mistakes I
made while learning to see things from the plant's point of view.”
The Volunteer Daylily
Yougrowgirl.com
We call
them ditch lilies here, a disparaging double entendre that eludes to their
place in the proper garden plant hierarchy as well as their preferred wild
landscape.
It came
into my garden uninvited, an opportunist that hitched a ride in some little pot
of earth alongside another plant, probably something gifted or bought at a
horticultural society plant sale.
I knew what
it was as soon as the leaves appeared. Day lilies were one of the first edible
flowers I foraged back in high school under the instruction of a library
withdrawal whose title I no longer recall. Years later I planted a small patch
of them in the Guerrilla Garden, a hand me down from a friend’s mom’s garden.
They soon took over a chunk of that space and I can recall a hot summer day
spent pounding at the hard, compacted soil with a shovel in an attempt to
thwart their imminent takeover. Some strangers came by in a car and offered up
a plant they had just dug out of their own garden (I can’t recall what it was)
in exchange for a few clumps that I was all too happy to give away freely. It’s
not that I don’t like day lilies — I like them much, much more than most. Were
my garden a sprawling farm, I’d have some nice large stands of them in all
sorts of colours. But here, in a small urban yard where land is at a premium,
one has to get honest about space, and anything this pushy and downright
uncooperative has got to go.
Still, when
the leaves appeared in the very worst spot, right at the front of the garden
and dead centre inside a peony, I said to myself, “I’ll let it go to flower
just to see what they look like. They’re edible after-all. Maybe I happened
upon a unique variety.” And I did, sort of. It is an orange, double flower. And
it is pretty.
And then
the leaves grew beyond the height of the peony and it did not look good right
there in the middle, but still I let it go. And then the flower stalk appeared,
shooting up higher than anything else in sight. It was bad garden design. The
very worst: a clumsily placed plant growing out from the centre of another
plant, smack dab in the front of the garden. This is why you will never see my
garden in a fancy magazine. I let curiosity get the best of me. I lack the
ruthlessness required to properly edit and cull.
From then
on the flower’s stalk grew more present, but I still couldn’t do what needed to
be done. Each time I held up my camera to document the garden I was confronted
by some part of the daylily, right there in the frame. I tried repositioning
and reframing the scene to get around it, but the stalk only grew taller, the
flowers larger, and they were ever present, hogging the spotlight. A real
showboat. I was more willing to put myself out than pull out the little day
lily that could. Who does she think she is anyways? Just some common, humble
weed that doesn’t belong. I anthropomorphize plants and over-identify with the
underdog. Because I too am humble, of the lower classes, and don’t belong. I
also deign to stick my nose out and demand a place of prominence that I haven’t
earned by pedigree. Sometimes gardening plays out in my head as a morality tale
about class, injustice, and social order and I guilt myself into keeping plants
I don’t want simply because I can’t bear the thought of tossing it to the
compost bin.
A year
passed and the daylily stayed put. My new(ish) next door neighbour inherited a
clump from the former owners. She abhors the things and told me so repeatedly
before digging them out once and for all. This only strengthened my resolve to
keep the little big lily and so it stuck around another year. Another year of
shifting my camera to accommodate a single, out of place, flower stalk.
Finally, one day, sick of framing and reframing the scene, I gave in and took
this shot. The flower finally got its place in the spotlight. And yes, it is
still there now, dormant in the frozen ground and replenishing in order to come
back harder.
I expect
the whole drama to play out again this spring when those leaves appear, again,
standing straight up, pushing itself out from inside the peony and right up
front in a place of prominence where it deigns to defy me as if to say, “I
belong.“
Trends I Won’t Be Following This Season
Gardenrant.com
At this
time of year, the inboxes of garden writers (and editors of any genre) are
flooded with trend report and predictions of what people will be planting,
buying, and installing in the coming season. Most of it is so silly that my
delete finger doesn’t stop moving enough to read more than a sentence or too.
But, just for fun, here are the ones I will definitely be ignoring:
Apps and
devices that will work together to send me messages about my plants
No. Way too
fussy. And unnecessary.
I do like
plant ID apps though and informative ones like Armitage’s. Though—when it comes
to getting info on your device, Wikipedia and the various extension websites
are fairly comprehensive, depending on your needs.
Plant
“tables” This came up when one of my
garden designer friends suggested I have a succulent table. I can see why some
might find that novel and attractive, but I like the easy mobility of
containers. I don’t want this big object that can’t be used for what it is—a
table.
Creating a
garden where you can have cocktails
It’s not
that I won’t be following this; I just don’t understand why people need to be
told that they can sit and have drinks in their garden and need explanations of
what they need to do to make that happen. Chairs and tables are a trend? (Sure,
I get growing cocktail ingredients if you want, but it really did talk about
having seating.).
Paying any
attention whatsoever to Pantone colors
I agree
with guest ranter Marianne Wilburn on this. As a magazine editor, I know that
matching colors using Pantone is very important for graphic design, but I don’t
need them in the garden.
Gnomes are
back
No.
Trends I do
like, if they even aren’t trends anymore:
I do love
using native plants, pollinator-friendly plants, and containers of all kinds.
Water features are non-trending apparently; I still love them. And here’s
something that apparently hasn’t been a trend since the nineteenth century but
I still love it: bulb forcing.
I also love
art in the garden, but am very cautious about having too many objects. This is
really a big trap for many gardeners, and the home and garden shows don’t help,
with their tempting displays of ornamental goods that might look great on the
shelf, but do little more than create clutter in the garden.
We’ll see.
Did I miss any trends we should be talking about?
Forsythia is not your ordinary shrub: The Real Dirt
By: Sonia Day, TheStar.com
Fabulous
forsythia. This commonplace shrub doesn’t get enough credit.
Garden
snobs I know (who hate yellow flowers anyway) turn up their noses and refuse to
have anything to do with it.
“Oh, that,”
one shrugged to me the other day. “Haven’t had it in my garden for years. It
kept spreading. It got boring.”
And she’s
right, of course. Once her brief reign as queen of the springtime garden is
over, forsythia refuses to fade gracefully into the background. Instead, she
becomes like some annoying neighbour, poking her nose into everything. Who
hasn’t got fed up with those seemingly non-stop branches, shooting out all over
the place, hogging valuable space, garbed in their uninspiring wardrobe of
Plain Jane green?
Yet I’m all
for forsythia. Bring it on. The more the merrier. Because it’s surely the
brightest introduction to the growing season that we have, more uplifting even
than daffodils and tulips. And this year, perhaps as a consequence of our mild
winter, the shrub that serious gardeners dismiss has looked particularly
radiant and prolific. In the past couple of weeks, I’ve been reveling in
gloriously thick froths of buttercup yellow flowers that seemed to be
everywhere in southern Ontario, tumbling over hedges and backyard fences,
glowing in sunshine against house walls and public buildings and lighting up
our parks on even the dullest days. What a thrilling sight.
Now that
those petals are dropping, folks, let’s not forget how spectacular forsythia
can be, after the greyness of winter. Despite its admittedly nondescript summer
garb, this shrub is anything but boring.
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