Saturday, April 29, 2006

ZONING IN FOR GARDENING SUCCESS

After years of speculating as to the reasons why my garden doesn't thrive in the same way as do, it’s possible that the answer may lie under my feet, so to speak. Note the usage of the word "may", which is frequently followed by the words could have, should have, would have and that old favorite, might have been, since gardening is frequently a speculative undertaking at best. In fact the explanation is so obvious that it’s surprising it’s taken so long to arrive at this simple conclusion: I’m in the wrong zone!

Go know!

As a seasoned gardener I've rarely felt the need or desire to consult with the plant hardiness zone guide. That’s not exactly the truth. Thing is - and let’s keeps this from one gardener to another - I’m directionally-challenged! For me “south” conjures up visions of mint juleps and plantations, “north” is snow and mukluks, “out west” is tumbleweed and oil wells and “back east” is home base.

At this point you’re probably shaking your head in disbelief and astonishment, wondering how I can call myself a gardener and not know in which area my plant zone is located. Simple: I just never bothered to check for one reason or another. My philosophy is and has always been a plant is a plant to be popped into dirt along with a sprinkling of fertilizer and a dose of water. Leave it alone and chances are it'll grow or produce something interesting and green-colored. It now appears that I've been living under a misconception.

This fact was brought to my attention recently during a discussion with a successful plant person, about a new plant specie entering the market place, this summer. Concerned as to whether it would "take" or survive in my garden soil, the question arose as to the hardiness zone in which our house is located. No one had ever asked this question before and my credibility faded as fast as a hosta growing in sunny location.

Attempting to pass myself off as a credible source and being somewhat knowledgeable when it came to growing things, I spun a zoning tale.

"Perhaps zone five…” I lied, “but they’re in the process of making our area zone four or stretching it to zone six.”

The wonderful thing about the Internet is that it supplies information on just about everything a person needs to know about gardening at one's fingertips. Finding the plant hardiness zone map was simple enough but deciphering it was a whole other issue. What struck me was that visually, the map has a lot of eye appeal with pretty colors ranging from your earth tones of browns, beige and yellows, purple and soft lavender, lime to leaf green and for one reason or the other, an unimaginative dull black. There was also a zoom-in and zoom-out device presumably for verifying the exact location of the area in which a garden is located. According to the map we're situated in a light-ish green to mint-green area known as 5b…or maybe it could be 5a…it's a close call… At least we're in a region that's located in a decent color shade and one that's fashionably acceptable. Things like that are important to gardeners – alright to me.

The planting season is here and armed with the knowledge that I'm living in zone 5a or 5b bordering on 6, I'm convinced there’s a chance of a successful growing season ahead. At least that's what I'm telling people. In the end it's all a number’s game, anyway.

Tuesday, April 25, 2006

CUTTING BACK...OR...HOW LOW CAN YOU GO?

When it comes to gardening everyone has an opinion. More to the point, they offer it whether it's asked for or not.

A couple of weeks ago we cut back our thirty-eight year old honeysuckle shrubs to where they are now approximately 12” high. They weren't supposed to be that short but in gardening as in life, the path is filled with good intentions.

The shrubs were planted during the first year we moved in our house as a natural means of closing in our back garden instead of a fence.

"A fence is so confining," was the story we used at the time but if truth be told, planting shrubs was a cheaper alternative. Honeysuckle was selected due to its hardiness and adaptability to all situations. The specie also has a lot going for it producing pretty pink flowers in the Spring that turn into ripe red berries in the autumn, a big hit with the birds. They also provide shelter for the birds from the cold and snow of winter.

Although the tops of the shrubs are trimmed on a regular basis, the branches never reached their full potential. A severe trimming was necessary - at least we thought it was - in the hope that they would grow back thick and lush. At least thick, anyway. Given the scope of the job, Argy, our occasional gardener, would be asked to do the job.

Thing is, Argy doesn’t like cutting shrubs that he deems to be too high, which is anything at the four-and-a-half feet and over level necessitating a ladder. Messages left on his voice mail are inevitably ignored and it’s a wonder he has a thriving business. The best means in which to communicate with him is to catch him actually working on the job. You would have thought that he was being asked to cut down a forest.

"Your shrubs are too high. Too much work. I'm too busy. Maybe," he commented while zipping across the lawn on a tractor/lawnmower.

In retrospect he should have been instructed exactly how short to go given his aversion to cutting shrubs, period. One minute they were...there, and the next all that remained were 12” high almost-bare, more-or-less leaf-less twigs jutting out of woody bottoms.
When questioned as to the extreme cut back, Argy was quick to point out that he was never given any specific guidelines how much to cut off. He insisted while bundling up the bushes that they would grow back in no time and that they would look better than ever.

Did I mention that Argy doesn't believe in sweeping up? Too bad since it would have eliminated a lot of the ensuing aggravation.

So we’re raking and sweeping the sidewalk and along comes neighbor, Mrs. Busybody, accompanied by a small dog on a leash. She stops and trades small talk while the dog sniffs what’s left of the shrubs.

“So you finally cut the shrubs,” she told my husband pulling on the leash as the dog watered a shrub. “It’s about time.”

This is a neighbor who rarely comments about them – or anything else. A rant followed, focusing on how high and wild they were allowed to grow and getting more vocal with each statement.

“Sometimes ‘Poopsy’ here had to walk on the road because your shrubs blocked the sidewalk,” she stated matter-of-factly. “You should have more consideration for our four-footed friends.”

No sooner had she finished her lecture, Mr. Neighbor Three Doors Down loped over to join in the fray.

“You cut your shrubs too short and it’s too late in the season,” he offered bending down to touch a leafless branch. “They’re probably going to die!”

Mrs. Busybody and Mr. Two Doors Down then had a lively discussion regarding the merits of allowing shrubs to grow tall versus keeping them low. Soon more neighbors joined them with the honeysuckles being the center of the conversation.

In the middle of it all Argy drove by. He slowed down and smiled approvingly. Smart guy our Argy. He knew that he wouldn't have to do a major shrub cutting for a long time.

Did I mention he's not answering his voice mail again? Not surprising after the message we left him.