Really, we never intended to be cruel to our hanging plants and now they’re paying us back. They can best be described in a state loitering between life and death, more to the latter as of today. In the end, it really doesn’t matter how honourable our intentions were because plants aren’t interested in excuses.
Every May we visit the various garden centers in search of a species that will stand out visually, add pizazz to our condo balcony, is easy to care for and are tough plants. Is that a lot to ask? The latter is important since we live near a river where it’s always windy, which in turn dries out the soil necessitating constant replenishment of water.
It was instant love-at-first-sight when we spotted calibrachoa, a relatively new species that resembles mini petunias overflowing with branches of coloured blooms, growing in a plastic hanging container. The mixture of bright yellow and orange flowers stole our hearts and judgement, obviously. Given the lush but overflowing state of the greenery and the size of the pot, we ignored the warning signs that over-crowding could be a problem. More flowers equals flashier showing, we assumed, plus the garden center clerk assured us the specie was easy to grow. Good enough reason for purchase, we decided.
Visually, they provided a visually colourful sight swaying in the wind but watering the plant was difficult, since it was almost impossible to know when or if the water was reaching the roots. To ensure that they were being adequately hydrated they received a half-litre of water, a lot of which seeped out the planter holes.
Rarely do we take a summer vacation that takes us away for more than a few days but this year was an exception. This meant that the plants were on their own for a week at the mercy of Mother Nature for liquid hydration. In retrospect we could have asked a neighbour to plant sit or if our plants could join someone else's plants on their balcony, but we didn’t. We believed that our plants would take care of themselves in our absence. Silly us! We took them down and placed near the balcony railing dependent upon natural conditions to provide a balance of sun and rain. Having watered the plants well and giving them a pep talk along with apologies, we left assuming they would be alive upon our return. Again, silly us.
It never occurred to us that the plants would or could – well – die or would give up in a mere week without water. Actually, they should have lasted longer but given their crowded state, their root systems most likely were packed too tightly together. Personally, I blame the seed company for over-crowding. That's my excuse and I'm sticking to it! Much to our dismay, we returned to a brown-branched, somewhat shrivelled up and crispy dried out plant. What was once a colourful, lush and vibrant orange/yellow plant was now a collection of brown shrivelled-up branches of crispy nothing-ness. Rather than toss them out immediately, instead they were given a liberal watering and decided to monitor the situation for a week after which a decision would have to be made as to their viability. On the fourth day, one of the plants started turning green at the tips of the branches and suddenly some flowers appeared, leading us to believe that a miraculous re-birth was imminent – and still more flowers. Unfortunately, it was a short lived omen and the green has turned to a deathly pallor of grey-ish/brown-ish. Such teases, our plants!
It’s obvious, at least to me that once new plant raisers and owners take over from garden centers to become the care givers to plants, we become responsible for their well being. Plants do not and will not stand for excuses and neither do they tolerate long-ish absences. Unless there’s another re-birth, tonight we’ll be bidding adieu to the calibrachoa duo on the river bank, at sunset. It will be a short ceremony to match our short relationship. It’s the least we could do.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Saturday, May 07, 2011
Once a gardener - always a gardener
In as much as a move to condo living is a welcome change Spring is the time of year that I miss my garden most. Normally, I would be joining the throngs of gardening enthusiasts at the garden centres stocking up on top soil and supplementing their gardening tool collection. It’s always surprising, at least to me, how people are willing to pay for – well – dirt in the desire to enhance their chances of a visually spectacular floral display and vegetable output. When you think about it, there is dirt virtually everywhere you look but gardeners have to have special dirt. Drop by any centre and an entire section is filled with bags of top soil of every type and purpose. Thinking back, adding top soil worked for all the gardeners in our neighbourhood but for whatever reason, disappeared for us with the first rain. There was also the reoccurring problem with grub attacks that didn’t help the situation. See what I mean? Once a gardener – always a gardener.
The question as to how we enjoy condo living is inevitably followed by, “do you miss your garden?” My stock answer is yes and no. Definitely miss the experience of getting down and dirty with my hands in the soil and no to having to mow the grass. Never told anyone until now but dandelions supplemented the sparse blades of grass and gave the lawn the green shade it wouldn’t have otherwise had.
Conversations with friends and acquaintances who are gardening enthusiasts enjoy regaling me with their plans for the coming season. I
“So how do you like condo living?” actually means, how could you give up your garden followed by, “we could never give up our house. We love growing things.”
Hey! I always did and still do. The change is in the way to grow things. Actually, can’t really call it gardening any more. We’re plant raising now. Upon moving into our condo in early summer four years ago, we purchased two Grecian-looking urns that were filled to over-flowing with a wide variety of annuals. The end result was nice and in an attempt to be organized, we even kept the plastic information sticks as a reminder which plants flourished. Unfortunately, the following year they were nowhere to be found and it’s still guess work. Some things don’t change.
Have to admit, though, I do still love looking at the seed displays and mentally select the species that appeal to me. There is the occasional conversation with strangers at the displays but the discussion stops at one point when the talk turns to flower beds and veggies. Seems that container gardening doesn’t make it with some people. It’s also at this time of the year that I experience pangs of loneliness for my two surviving rose bushes, a hybrid tea and a floribunda, whose life force always hovered between life and death. In a good year, they produced two roses each. Wonder if they’re still in the land of the living or tease the new owners into believing they’re worth the trouble. Reality returns with the quick reminder of the frequent visits to the composter and the plethora of plants that received last rites.
In the choosing flowers, we still have differing views on the selection process for the window boxes and urns, centering on species and color schemes. I like to stick to two main colors while my husband prefers a wide variety of...everything. The truth is that he’s color-blind and is in denial.
“Nature doesn’t pick color schemes,” he will assert in defence of his choices, “so why should we?”
Last year, though, we did agree to stick to three main shades. Three is better than eight – let’s leave it at that. At present we’re in discussions focusing on the cultivation of tomatoes in a pot and whether or not there is a space for them, physically and aesthetically. Once that issue is settled, I’ll broach the subject of herbs. The barbeque still needs a corner.
(Paintings courtesy of yours truly, are available for purchase)
The question as to how we enjoy condo living is inevitably followed by, “do you miss your garden?” My stock answer is yes and no. Definitely miss the experience of getting down and dirty with my hands in the soil and no to having to mow the grass. Never told anyone until now but dandelions supplemented the sparse blades of grass and gave the lawn the green shade it wouldn’t have otherwise had.
Conversations with friends and acquaintances who are gardening enthusiasts enjoy regaling me with their plans for the coming season. I
“So how do you like condo living?” actually means, how could you give up your garden followed by, “we could never give up our house. We love growing things.”
Hey! I always did and still do. The change is in the way to grow things. Actually, can’t really call it gardening any more. We’re plant raising now. Upon moving into our condo in early summer four years ago, we purchased two Grecian-looking urns that were filled to over-flowing with a wide variety of annuals. The end result was nice and in an attempt to be organized, we even kept the plastic information sticks as a reminder which plants flourished. Unfortunately, the following year they were nowhere to be found and it’s still guess work. Some things don’t change.
Have to admit, though, I do still love looking at the seed displays and mentally select the species that appeal to me. There is the occasional conversation with strangers at the displays but the discussion stops at one point when the talk turns to flower beds and veggies. Seems that container gardening doesn’t make it with some people. It’s also at this time of the year that I experience pangs of loneliness for my two surviving rose bushes, a hybrid tea and a floribunda, whose life force always hovered between life and death. In a good year, they produced two roses each. Wonder if they’re still in the land of the living or tease the new owners into believing they’re worth the trouble. Reality returns with the quick reminder of the frequent visits to the composter and the plethora of plants that received last rites.
In the choosing flowers, we still have differing views on the selection process for the window boxes and urns, centering on species and color schemes. I like to stick to two main colors while my husband prefers a wide variety of...everything. The truth is that he’s color-blind and is in denial.
“Nature doesn’t pick color schemes,” he will assert in defence of his choices, “so why should we?”
Last year, though, we did agree to stick to three main shades. Three is better than eight – let’s leave it at that. At present we’re in discussions focusing on the cultivation of tomatoes in a pot and whether or not there is a space for them, physically and aesthetically. Once that issue is settled, I’ll broach the subject of herbs. The barbeque still needs a corner.
(Paintings courtesy of yours truly, are available for purchase)
Friday, March 11, 2011
SEEDS OF HOPE
In as far as winter is concerned, at least for gardeners living in zones that have a chilly climate, enduring the winter doldrums is one long waiting period for the growing period to arrive. There are ways to deal with the withdrawal symptoms that accompany the temporary loss of feeling the earth between our fingers.
The month of March is the "dream month." The days are getting longer, the sun appears brighter and suddenly the seed catalogues start putting in appearances. These always colorful and beneficial publications could be considered the hope chest of horticultural aspirations. To thumb through the pages inspires us to achieve mastery over all that we grow, to assure successful results. At least it works that way in theory, anyway.
I've experienced minimal success when it came to starting plants from seed. It wasn’t the fault of the seeds since the problem lay with the cultivator.
Beginning seeds in peat cups, which are purported to be simplicity personified, never proved to be successful undertaking. Instructions include one seed per cup, add water and - voila - the embryo of a successful bed of flowers. It's the last part, the keep-seeds- in- cups-moist that gets me every time. The question in my mind was always the amount of liquid is required to keep cups moist and what's more, what exactly is moist? I mean, how wet is moist? Is it dry-wet, or really wet-wet? Let's just say that in the past, a large percentage of my seedlings fell victim to a flood of the over-watering kind. Those that managed to keep their tiny stalks above water eventually succumbed. There is nothing more pathetic than green-bordering-on-yellow, tiny, deformed, wilted stems laying on top of the earth in a water-logged peat coffin.
The next experience classified in the seemed-like-a-good-idea-at-the- time-category, was the result of reading a book of gardening hints, which suggested that Styrofoam egg cups would make good seed starters. This effort was a blow-off in the true sense of the word, since strong gale-force winds swept away the fruits of my labor, never to be seen again. Another attempt at seed starting in styrofoam cups proved to be a huge success with crows, who somehow discovered there was free food to be had with no strings attached. It wasn't long before they passed the word around to other neighborhood denizens including a squirrels. The scene was similar to the end result of a wild party with empty egg cartons strewn everywhere along with spilled earth. Chances were they all par-tied, heart-y at my expense.
Still, hope springs eternal in the human breast – and in peat cups.
The month of March is the "dream month." The days are getting longer, the sun appears brighter and suddenly the seed catalogues start putting in appearances. These always colorful and beneficial publications could be considered the hope chest of horticultural aspirations. To thumb through the pages inspires us to achieve mastery over all that we grow, to assure successful results. At least it works that way in theory, anyway.
I've experienced minimal success when it came to starting plants from seed. It wasn’t the fault of the seeds since the problem lay with the cultivator.
Beginning seeds in peat cups, which are purported to be simplicity personified, never proved to be successful undertaking. Instructions include one seed per cup, add water and - voila - the embryo of a successful bed of flowers. It's the last part, the keep-seeds- in- cups-moist that gets me every time. The question in my mind was always the amount of liquid is required to keep cups moist and what's more, what exactly is moist? I mean, how wet is moist? Is it dry-wet, or really wet-wet? Let's just say that in the past, a large percentage of my seedlings fell victim to a flood of the over-watering kind. Those that managed to keep their tiny stalks above water eventually succumbed. There is nothing more pathetic than green-bordering-on-yellow, tiny, deformed, wilted stems laying on top of the earth in a water-logged peat coffin.
The next experience classified in the seemed-like-a-good-idea-at-the- time-category, was the result of reading a book of gardening hints, which suggested that Styrofoam egg cups would make good seed starters. This effort was a blow-off in the true sense of the word, since strong gale-force winds swept away the fruits of my labor, never to be seen again. Another attempt at seed starting in styrofoam cups proved to be a huge success with crows, who somehow discovered there was free food to be had with no strings attached. It wasn't long before they passed the word around to other neighborhood denizens including a squirrels. The scene was similar to the end result of a wild party with empty egg cartons strewn everywhere along with spilled earth. Chances were they all par-tied, heart-y at my expense.
Still, hope springs eternal in the human breast – and in peat cups.
Monday, March 07, 2011
Flowers are blooming on my painting canvas
"I perhaps owe having become a painter to flowers"
Claude Monet
It's March and I'm getting Spring fever. This delightful seasonal affliction always strikes at this time of the year although there is snow on the ground with flowers remaining buried beneath frozen earth, dormant, waiting for revival.
The view out of my window is still winter with a thick layer of snow and ice on the river surface but there are signs of change. Beneath the bridge and in the middle of the river, an open expanse of water snakes down the centre. No sign of ducks as yet - they wait for warmer temps but this is a spring-y sign. Even an unexpected late winter snow fall doesn't linger long since the earth is warming up due to longer days and stronger rays of the sun. In another month or so, the familiar honking of Canada geese flying in "V" formation will announce their seasonal arrival, taking up residence along the river banks. Their arrival, however, isn't welcomed by everyone but I digress.
As an artist and flower lover, my subject of choice is - no surprise - landscapes and flowers. Actually, capturing their images sustain me over the long layover between fall and Spring. On occasion and upon entering the imaginary world of flora and fauna with paint brush in hand, it appears that I can actually smell fields of poppies and wild flowers as they bend in the breeze. Each petal is depicted as a painted image with streams of shaded colors flowing on to the canvas surface until it flourishes into a flower. It's the same type of satisfaction derived from working the soil in the garden and carries me until the arrival of the real thing. Can't be too soon for me.
It's spring fever. That is what the name of it is. And when you've got it, you want - oh, you don't quite know what it is you do want, but it just fairly makes your heart ache, you want it so! ~Mark Twain
Saturday, February 05, 2011
So what's your houseplant's sign?
Our houseplants – can't live with them and we certainly can't live without them. It occurred to me that perhaps the survival of houseplants could be (note the word "could") determined by the planets. It isn't such a far-fetched theory given many people believe their future is affected by the stars and planetary concurrences.
An acquaintance claims to buy houseplants for herself and others to match known personality traits of the new plant-owner-to-be at time of purchase. It's her theory (and it’s as good as any) that the longevity and subsequent fate of a new acquisition of the chlorophyll kind can be determined with the use of an astrological chart. There’s no real means in which to check this out since their longevity is in the hands of the fates for the most part. The best that can be achieved is to ascertain the position of the sun, the moon and planetary alignments in the hope that it's a good plant fit and that both will have a long and healthy relationship. Accent on the long.
Aries: Personality traits: original, pioneering, courageous and direct. A plant like apidistra will tolerate tough love. In other words, even if you go to Florida and forget to make watering arrangements, it'll probably forgive you.
Taurus: Personality traits: patient, reliable, enduring, stable, trustworthy, affectionate. People born under this sign are the type of owners who will care for their plant, as long as there's traces of green indicating life within. Consider a parlsey plant or perhaps a dandelion.
Gemini: Personality traits: intellectual, adaptable, versatile, witty, lively, amusing. They're among the type of plant raisers who take people for a plant tour of their home, regaling them with stories about life and death in the plant kingdom and all the latest new products on the market place. They would do well with a chia pet plant.
Cancer: Personality traits: kind, sensitive, nurturing, imaginative, patriotic. Cancer-ians tend to buy plants that can be shared with other plant lover. In fact they are known to bring a home grown plant as a gift, instead of store bought items. A Venus Flytrap could be an interesting conversation piece.
Leo: Personality traits: magnanimous, generous, creative, enthusiastic, dynamic. Leo or lion-type houseplant raisers, buy their plants to fit with their latest renovation project. They always make sure that the plant's leaves don't clash with the wall color, a decorating no-no. An orchid to go with the color scheme of the walls would be a good match.
Virgo: Personality traits: discriminating, analytical, practical, meticulous, modest, clean. Virgo types will glean every available morsal of information before embarking upon the purchase of a plant. They always re-pot outdoors because dirty earth on the floor is not allowable. Neither are dead plants, which can be problematic. A Zebra Plant with its exotic appearance could be a possibility.
Libra: Personality traits: charming, harmonious, suave, diplomatic, social and artistic. For Libra people it's the pot that's important, rather than the plant specie, and they'll go out of their way to purchase a designer pot, which they gladly show off to their friends and ignore the plant. A Sago Palm planted in a bought on sale pot would make it look like you paid a lot of green for it.
Scorpio: Personality traits: loyal, truthful, persistent, determined, deep. You can always count on these people to be the ideal plant sitters, when going on vacation. They take their job very seriously and will adopt discarded plants rather than see them left behind by moving companies.
An Air Plant that is relatively easy to grow anywhere is a nice gift to give when leaving your house plants with a Scorpio to go on an 'extended vacation.'
Sagittarius: Personality traits: jovial, optimistic, frank, scrupulous, sense of humor. Blessed with a sense of humor among other interesting traits, some Sagittariuns are known to communicate one-on-one with their plants, via mental telepathy. They also hear plants talking to each other. A Prayer Plant with leaves that are open during the day and close at night would be a good companion.
Capricorn: Personality traits: cautious, ambitious, prudent, disciplined. Capricornians won't buy a new houseplant unless they have a specific place in mind for the new acquisition. They tend to be on the unemotional side, and would never allow themselves to get emotionally involved with a plant. A cactus that is...there is a good option.
Aquarius: Personality traits: humanitarian, friendly, progressive, experimental. These people are the plant sharers of the world, and will take their plants with them on business trips. They have also been known to give away plants in lieu of tips. A herb plant would do them well on their next business trip.
Pices: Personality traits: compassionate, humble, sympathetic, intuitive. With their very sensitive natures, Pices people will go into mourning upon the demise of a favorite plant. Some have even been known to sport a green arm band, and a dried stem from the dearly departed.
A philodendron is toughie plant that abhors the compost pile.
And there you have our Eleanor's Astral House Plant Growing Guide to help you understand the true nature of those among us, who take plant raising very seriously. I mean it (wink-wink).
An acquaintance claims to buy houseplants for herself and others to match known personality traits of the new plant-owner-to-be at time of purchase. It's her theory (and it’s as good as any) that the longevity and subsequent fate of a new acquisition of the chlorophyll kind can be determined with the use of an astrological chart. There’s no real means in which to check this out since their longevity is in the hands of the fates for the most part. The best that can be achieved is to ascertain the position of the sun, the moon and planetary alignments in the hope that it's a good plant fit and that both will have a long and healthy relationship. Accent on the long.
Aries: Personality traits: original, pioneering, courageous and direct. A plant like apidistra will tolerate tough love. In other words, even if you go to Florida and forget to make watering arrangements, it'll probably forgive you.
Taurus: Personality traits: patient, reliable, enduring, stable, trustworthy, affectionate. People born under this sign are the type of owners who will care for their plant, as long as there's traces of green indicating life within. Consider a parlsey plant or perhaps a dandelion.
Gemini: Personality traits: intellectual, adaptable, versatile, witty, lively, amusing. They're among the type of plant raisers who take people for a plant tour of their home, regaling them with stories about life and death in the plant kingdom and all the latest new products on the market place. They would do well with a chia pet plant.
Cancer: Personality traits: kind, sensitive, nurturing, imaginative, patriotic. Cancer-ians tend to buy plants that can be shared with other plant lover. In fact they are known to bring a home grown plant as a gift, instead of store bought items. A Venus Flytrap could be an interesting conversation piece.
Leo: Personality traits: magnanimous, generous, creative, enthusiastic, dynamic. Leo or lion-type houseplant raisers, buy their plants to fit with their latest renovation project. They always make sure that the plant's leaves don't clash with the wall color, a decorating no-no. An orchid to go with the color scheme of the walls would be a good match.
Virgo: Personality traits: discriminating, analytical, practical, meticulous, modest, clean. Virgo types will glean every available morsal of information before embarking upon the purchase of a plant. They always re-pot outdoors because dirty earth on the floor is not allowable. Neither are dead plants, which can be problematic. A Zebra Plant with its exotic appearance could be a possibility.
Libra: Personality traits: charming, harmonious, suave, diplomatic, social and artistic. For Libra people it's the pot that's important, rather than the plant specie, and they'll go out of their way to purchase a designer pot, which they gladly show off to their friends and ignore the plant. A Sago Palm planted in a bought on sale pot would make it look like you paid a lot of green for it.
Scorpio: Personality traits: loyal, truthful, persistent, determined, deep. You can always count on these people to be the ideal plant sitters, when going on vacation. They take their job very seriously and will adopt discarded plants rather than see them left behind by moving companies.
An Air Plant that is relatively easy to grow anywhere is a nice gift to give when leaving your house plants with a Scorpio to go on an 'extended vacation.'
Sagittarius: Personality traits: jovial, optimistic, frank, scrupulous, sense of humor. Blessed with a sense of humor among other interesting traits, some Sagittariuns are known to communicate one-on-one with their plants, via mental telepathy. They also hear plants talking to each other. A Prayer Plant with leaves that are open during the day and close at night would be a good companion.
Capricorn: Personality traits: cautious, ambitious, prudent, disciplined. Capricornians won't buy a new houseplant unless they have a specific place in mind for the new acquisition. They tend to be on the unemotional side, and would never allow themselves to get emotionally involved with a plant. A cactus that is...there is a good option.
Aquarius: Personality traits: humanitarian, friendly, progressive, experimental. These people are the plant sharers of the world, and will take their plants with them on business trips. They have also been known to give away plants in lieu of tips. A herb plant would do them well on their next business trip.
Pices: Personality traits: compassionate, humble, sympathetic, intuitive. With their very sensitive natures, Pices people will go into mourning upon the demise of a favorite plant. Some have even been known to sport a green arm band, and a dried stem from the dearly departed.
A philodendron is toughie plant that abhors the compost pile.
And there you have our Eleanor's Astral House Plant Growing Guide to help you understand the true nature of those among us, who take plant raising very seriously. I mean it (wink-wink).
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Dreams of green
I like to think and believe that January is the gateway month towards Spring. At present everything is covered in white for the most part, except the still-decorated Christmas fir trees that have yet to be removed by the condo association. Most likely they're waiting until warmer weather to make the job easier and in any case, one takes touches of green wherever one can find it.
Looking at the river from my window, there are large bulges of ice/snow that solidified in place during the winter freeze-over, resembling white choppy ocean waves. It's a very surreal scene as if time suddenly stopped. Staring at the river as I do from time-to-time, my mind can envision clear water with ducks floating leisurely by, if I squint my eyes tight. Where there are now snow covered flower beds, my vision is that of wildflowers and perennials breaking the earth.
The narrow walking path along the river leading into the small woods closed now for winter, beckons me to explore its secret hollows. There are pieces of trees with broken limbs sprawled near the edge of the water, victims of brutal winter gusts.
Nature is at rest but my dreams of green sustain me until Spring.
Looking at the river from my window, there are large bulges of ice/snow that solidified in place during the winter freeze-over, resembling white choppy ocean waves. It's a very surreal scene as if time suddenly stopped. Staring at the river as I do from time-to-time, my mind can envision clear water with ducks floating leisurely by, if I squint my eyes tight. Where there are now snow covered flower beds, my vision is that of wildflowers and perennials breaking the earth.
The narrow walking path along the river leading into the small woods closed now for winter, beckons me to explore its secret hollows. There are pieces of trees with broken limbs sprawled near the edge of the water, victims of brutal winter gusts.
Nature is at rest but my dreams of green sustain me until Spring.
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