tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-268087142024-03-13T18:20:19.900-04:00THE (SOMEWHAT) COMPLETE GARDENERSome of us have a green thumb, some of us have a not-so-green thumb. Then there are others who are all thumbs. This blog is for the un-gardener in all of us.scriberesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16686564738595964556noreply@blogger.comBlogger34125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26808714.post-70827919559245389772013-04-28T16:02:00.002-04:002013-04-28T16:03:31.530-04:00Dandelions - a pretty flower in disguise of a weedOne of my Facebook friends, David Hobson, who writes about gardening and its occasional accompanying angst, reminded me in his comments about suburban-ites and their continous battle with the yellow weed. A while back when in a gardening mode, the advent of Spring and summer was a continuous challenge to sustain a yellow-free lawn and control dandelions, as shared in an ICanGarden.com column. Most likely people reading this will relate. Right?<br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">In Spring, a young man's (or woman's for that matter) fancy likely turns to thoughts of - gardening! All through the winter months our gardening endeavours are confined to those beautifully, illustrated photos in landscaping magazines, or the order forms in seed catalogues. At long last, the season of re-birth has arrived, and we feel impelled to get moving. It's time to sharpen the mower and hand shear blades, feed the laws, rake the grass, and get started on all the other tasks which go along with achieving a beautiful, picturesque garden. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: tahoma,geneva,arial; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: small;"> Upon reflection, you have to ask yourself the real reason behind all the work put into achieving a weed-free, green lawn and colorful display of flowers. Search down deep inside and the answer is obvious: we want our garden to be better than our neighbors. What reason other than ego, would impel us to spend a fortune of money on a variety of products like grass seed, flower and grass fertilizer, manure, weed killer, insect control stuff, for such a short period of time? In the winter, did you care that your next door neighbors had more snow on their property, than on yours? Or that their shovel was bigger or newer? Of course not, because there is nothing to be gained in a display of snow, right? </span><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: small;"> The ideal lawn for most of us is one that is a rich shade of green, weed-free, and without any crab grass. Heaven forbid there should be any sign of this dastardly, wild specie which has a way of cropping up when you least expect it. Worse yet, are the dandelions which make our lawns their number one place to call home. They have a habit of moving into a neighborhood, settling in with ease, and are not concerned with their social position among the cultivated blooms. </span><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: small;"> In my opinion, these delightful, happy flowers have acquired a bad reputation over the years which is undeserved. What's wrong with them anyway, I ask you? It's just a case of snobbery, due to the common manner in which they grew. Gardeners won't tolerate them because they aren't genteel and refined like the snobby roses, or the fussy impatiens and their ilk, who are considered to be among the pedigreed variety. Dandelions prefer to sprout wild and free, wherever their seed may fall. A point in their favor is that they are accessible to everyone, regardless of social strata or financial situation. </span><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: small;"> Maybe we should learn to co-exist with them since they are not ugly flowers aesthetically, and are easy to cultivate. They do not discriminate between good lawns and bad lawns, and will flourish everywhere with a vengeance. How do we repay them for their undying devotion, showing up in our lawns year after year? </span><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: small;"> As soon as the first splash of yellow peaks through the grass blades, we whip out our sprayer, fill it with dandelion slayer stuff until they are wilted into submission, but never forever. They may succumb to the various extermination methods temporarily, but dandelion roots run deep. Once they decide to dig in, it's almost impossible to get rid of them, permanently. </span><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: small;">So, why try. Think of all the money and energy which could be saved havin</span><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: small;">g to travel back and forth to the garden centre, to purchase flowers. Dandelions will just be...there. This crop doesn't require watering, they love all types of weather, and are low maintenance plants. Once neighbors adapt to their presence, you'll be the talk of the neighborhood. </span><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: small;"></span> <span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: small;">"My blank-blank, what a beautiful crop of dandelions you have this year. So healthy and yellow," people will comment enviously. </span><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: small;"></span> <span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: small;">"Yup, best crop ever," you'll respond proudly. "Lost your weed killer dispenser, eh?", they'll say, in an attempt to pump you for the inside scoop on the success of your new crop. </span><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: small;"> Let's learn to co-exist with all the weeds which grow in harmony side-by-side the dandelions, since they proliferate in such large numbers, anyway. Why waste all our energy on their elimination when we could be doing other things during the summer like...hmm...repairing the snow blower, perhaps? </span><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: small;"> </span></span>scriberesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16686564738595964556noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26808714.post-70298518203565498672013-04-15T19:18:00.000-04:002013-04-15T19:24:36.244-04:00The Lettuce Project update: day 3 and day 4. Signs of life?Let's see now...so where were we? Or should we say - where are we now? Whatever.<br />
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Here is the day-by-day progress report, although readers might find it repetitive. Got up at 7 a.m. on <span style="background-color: #93c47d;">Saturday, April 13</span>, to bring in the paper but couldn't avoid a check on what I hoped was progress to report. Uttered a lot of " hmmmmm's" and "uh-huh's"...and then changed the water. Why you may well ask, did I change the water? Seemed like a good idea. What happens, say, if lettuce prefers pure, clean, tap water as an incentive for growth? Didn't want to take any chances so <span style="background-color: #93c47d;">'L'</span> - that's what I've named the lettuce to personalize our relationship - now has daily changes of water.<br />
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<span style="background-color: #93c47d;">Sun. April 14</span>: Actually, toying with the idea of adding photographic images of my stump with roots immersed in an inch of water in a plastic container, to the blog page. After further thought, took three photos of the aforementioned lettuce from different angles and my findings are that it looked the same from all angles and really didn't merit photos - yet.<br />
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<span style="background-color: #93c47d;">Mon. April 15</span>: Not sure if it's wishful thinking but just may have detected little white shoots growing on the side of the stump not immersed in water. Perhaps they could have been there all along and went unnoticed...however I'm believing they are a positive sign that things may be progressing. After glancing into the container, my husband asked me when am I going to throw L away.<br />
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"It's growing! Can't you tell?" I reacted, rushing over to point out what I believe to be teeny shoots.<br />
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"Looks like it's turning brown," he responded. "Time to throw it out. It's gonna smell."<br />
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"The roots look very healthy," I said, swishing them around in a circular motion with my fore-finger. "We have to give them a chance to send a message to the lettuce stump to grow."<br />
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"Here's my message to them. 'Grow or out you go'!<br />
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There is hope in my heart that tomorrow will be the turning point. Visions of soft green lettuce leaves in a delicious bowl of salad inspire me to keep going. Tomorrow L will receive a musical treat in the form of <em>Vivaldi's Four Seasons, "Spring."</em> Let's just hope the other plants don't get jealous.<br />
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<br />scriberesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16686564738595964556noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26808714.post-28039436003797164122013-04-12T12:50:00.000-04:002013-04-12T12:53:08.168-04:00The Lettuce Project: Day 2<strong><span style="font-size: large;">7:30 a.m</span>.</strong> At time of first examination, which would be 7:30 a.m., the lettuce roots look like... lettuce roots. I'm thinking of moving it up to the next shelf where they/it (are roots plural or single one wonders) would receive some direct light. Actually, I'm not sure if they should even be in direct light... Maybe the light will cause bacteria to form or something... So many questions and so few answers. Anybody want to jump in here and offer an opinion?<br />
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See...that's the enigma of undertaking a project in which one has little or no experience. True I've grown lettuce in the garden, which quickly went to seed, but that was a long time ago. The issue, as I view it, is whether leaves can be produced via a hydroponic lettuce that was but is no more. The lettuce by the way, was very tasty if that means anything. Will report back later.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><strong><span style="background-color: #93c47d;"><u>Noon</u></span> </strong></span><span style="font-size: small;">Decided to move lettuce container to top shelf of plant stand. After conducting a cyber search focusing on the subject - "how to grow Boston lettuce in water" - it seems, according to a few people who have tried this, achievable, although it was with romaine lettuce and celery. Didn't mention, though, whether it was hydroponic lettuce, which could make a difference. Thinking further and in my mind, growing it hydroponically would make it more feasible. Then again - what do I know? Came accross a YouTube video of someone who is or was successful and managed to achieve another lettuce out of it. I would be satisfied to grow a few leaves, never mind a lettuce, although eating another salad from a former salad would be nice.</span><br />
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The container water looked to me on the yellow-ish side although maybe that's as a result of some plant food added to the lettuce by the lettuce growers. Changed the water and will see if it makes a difference.<br />
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Thinking back to the vegetable gardening days, we shared our veggie output with local critters that enjoyed suburban gardens (skunks, rabbits et al) and used our veggies as an extension of their dietary needs. At least this won't be an issue. And so we wait for something to happen. <br />
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Maybe on day 3...<br />
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<strong></strong><br />scriberesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16686564738595964556noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26808714.post-49577586294946750152013-04-11T19:56:00.000-04:002013-04-11T19:56:11.621-04:00The lettuce project: day oneFirst post of the season and the weather people are calling for snow and/or freezing rain. Then again, given their accuracy rate, we'll wait to see if it materializes. Doesn't really matter one way or the other since I'm in a sort-of growing state of mind. This could be as a result of walking through a garden center and seeing fertilizer and related garden products out on display. Condo living has replaced my garden, which is most likely the reason for my growing itch.<br />
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Recently bought a hydroponically-grown Boston lettuce at a supermarket with a root system attached. I really like Boston lettuce in a salad but what attracted me was the large root wound around in a circle wrapped around the lettuce base to fit into a plastic top. The accompanying blurb on the top reads: "one fresh living lettuce", which got me thinking as to the possibilities of reproduction of the lettuce type. Decided to do an experiment.<br />
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After removing the leaves, cutting off the top and keeping a small piece of the core, I immersed the roots in water in a plastic container, covering the entire root system. I'm hoping that the end result down the line will result in new leaves if not an entire new lettuce (don't I wish!) . It's now sitting on the second shelf of my plant stand beneath my two house plants, which have primo space. After all, they've been there a lot longer but they could be displaced temporarily, if the need arises. Already I'm concerned that perhaps the water needs some type of fertilizer... Problems already...<br />
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I'm calling my undertaking: <em>"the lettuce project"</em> and will supply daily updates here as to the progress - if any. Having never grown a lettuce in this manner before, I'm open to suggestions and help from blog readers. That is, if anything happens. We'll have to see.scriberesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16686564738595964556noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26808714.post-49905605754647223522012-05-12T21:05:00.004-04:002012-05-14T08:17:36.714-04:00Spring - the garden beds are gone but the memory lingers onToday I bought a geranium plant. In the scheme of things and being that this is Spring, it's not an unusual thing to do. Condo living is great but it's missing one vital component. I'm missing my garden. <br />
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While shopping at the supermarket, the front of the store was devoted to wooden display racks filled to capacity with annuals and hanging plants. Since it was an unusually warm sunny day, people were feeling the need to get down and dirty and feel the earth beneath their fingers. I know exactly how they feel. Somehow, placing the plant on my still empty balcony gave me a feeling of kinship with gardeners and brought back memories of my garden.<br />
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Let me state for the record that my garden was not a display out of House and Gardens. Far from it. In fact there were more deaths than there were survivors. The wine-colored iris's growing in a bed on the side of the house could always be counted in the survivor column. They were my pride and joy because they required little care. Neighbors and people passing by frequently asked the secret in acquiring the magnificent display. Nothing - absolutely nothing other than separating the roots periodically. Mother Nature did the rest.<br />
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It's those rose bushes that tug at my heart. At this time of the year, I would be pondering whether the two remaining hybrid teas made it through the winter and/or whether they should be pulled. They were frequently in the in-between stage making a decision on their viability difficult. I've always been of the belief that roses in particular make slaves of their human caretakers having to primp, preen and fuss over them and in the end, they thank us by croaking. It was always touch and go and in a good year they would give me three roses each. In a bad year, they were afflicted black mold on their leaves but I loved them dearly. They are frequently in my thoughts.<br />
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I miss digging my fingers in the earth and feeling the soil sift through my fingers while preparing a home for new flowers and annuals. Our front lawn was composed primarily of dandelion leaves, which gave it a green shade and in dandelion season, the lawn was a mass of yellow flowers. It was an un-winable war trying to erradicate them and in the end, we conceded victory. In retrospect, perhaps we should have tried making dandelion wine or dandelion salad, since dandelion leaves sell at the supermarket. Had they asked us, we would have gladly donated ours for free.<br />
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It's been five years since we sold our house but the pull of the garden still seduces my senses. It's obvious to onlookers that we were gardeners since we embelish our balcony with hanging plants in addition to filling planters that we had brought with us, with annuals. There is no way I could part with my "pussycat" planter with the smiling black cat peeking out from behind trailing flowers. Neither could I leave the hand-made wooden planter behind given to me by my next door neighbor. In the end, you takes your planting as you get it. Meanwhile, there's always the geranium.<br />
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<em>"In joy or sadness, flowers are our constant friends."</em><br />
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<em>- Kozuko Okakura</em>scriberesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16686564738595964556noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26808714.post-42491550553156906662011-06-28T12:42:00.002-04:002011-06-28T13:00:22.618-04:00Excuses don't count when it comes to hanging plantsReally, 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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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!<br /><br />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.scriberesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16686564738595964556noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26808714.post-21543128497248900342011-05-07T17:13:00.004-04:002011-05-07T17:53:28.987-04:00Once a gardener - always a gardenerIn 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.<br /><br />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. <br /><br />Conversations with friends and acquaintances who are gardening enthusiasts enjoy regaling me with their plans for the coming season. I<br /><br />“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.” <br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />“Nature doesn’t pick color schemes,” he will assert in defence of his choices, “so why should we?”<br /><br />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.<br /><br /><em>(Paintings courtesy of yours truly, are available for purchase)</em>scriberesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16686564738595964556noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26808714.post-53613889989282771772011-03-11T21:32:00.008-05:002013-02-01T19:14:47.900-05:00SEEDS OF HOPEIn 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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />Still, hope springs eternal in the human breast – and in peat cups. scriberesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16686564738595964556noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26808714.post-68478052695773476172011-03-07T17:16:00.011-05:002011-03-08T09:23:13.741-05:00Flowers are blooming on my painting canvas<div align="center"><em>"I perhaps owe having become a painter to flowers"</em></div><div align="center"><em>Claude Monet</em><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ylGM7G8tLe0/TXVywtGn-HI/AAAAAAAAADY/nik93jc68OU/s1600/IMG_2965.JPG"><em><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 150px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581493494262265970" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ylGM7G8tLe0/TXVywtGn-HI/AAAAAAAAADY/nik93jc68OU/s200/IMG_2965.JPG" /></em></a><br /></div><br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br /><br /><em><div align="center"><strong>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</strong></div></em>scriberesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16686564738595964556noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26808714.post-64908955303424150652011-02-05T16:10:00.006-05:002011-02-06T09:21:01.570-05:00So 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.<br /><br />An acquaintance claims to buy houseplants for herself and others to match known personality traits of the new <em>plant-owner-to-be</em> 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.<br /><br /><br /><strong>Aries</strong>: Personality traits: original, pioneering, courageous and direct. A plant like <em>apidistra</em> will tolerate tough love. In other words, even if you go to Florida and forget to make watering arrangements, it'll probably forgive you.<br /><br /><strong>Taurus</strong>: 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.<br /><br /><strong>Gemini</strong>: 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.<br /><br /><strong>Cancer</strong>: 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.<br /><br /><strong>Leo</strong>: 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.<br /><br /><strong>Virgo</strong>: 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.<br /><br /><strong>Libra</strong>: 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 <em>bought on sale</em> pot would make it look like you paid a lot of green for it.<br /><br /><strong>Scorpio</strong>: 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.<br />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.'<br /><br /><strong>Sagittarius</strong>: 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.<br /><br /><strong>Capricorn</strong>: 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.<br /><br /><strong>Aquarius</strong>: 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.<br /><br /><strong>Pices</strong>: 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.<br />A philodendron is toughie plant that abhors the compost pile.<br /><br />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).scriberesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16686564738595964556noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26808714.post-3155635556882884302011-01-19T09:13:00.007-05:002011-01-19T16:04:51.696-05:00Dreams of greenI 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.<br /><br />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. <br /><br />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.<br /> <br />Nature is at rest but my dreams of green sustain me until Spring.scriberesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16686564738595964556noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26808714.post-44125072678811310942010-12-12T09:37:00.000-05:002010-12-12T09:37:40.134-05:00THE (SOMEWHAT) COMPLETE GARDENER: The garden has gone to seed but hope springs eternal<a href="http://the-somewhat-complete-gardener.blogspot.com/2010/12/garden-has-gone-to-seed-but-hope.html#links">THE (SOMEWHAT) COMPLETE GARDENER: The garden has gone to seed but hope springs eternal</a>scriberesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16686564738595964556noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26808714.post-48412412523243159392010-12-11T20:31:00.003-05:002010-12-12T09:11:05.662-05:00The garden has gone to seed but hope springs eternalNot too long ago, I used to garden. Ask any gardener who will confirm, there's nothing like getting down and dirty working the soil with your hands. It's probably a flash-back to the time as children when we spent our summer days revelling in the dirt and sandbox. As mentioned, gardening is now an activity discussed in the past tense.<br /><br />It's been three years since we sold our house and went condo and I'm still afflicted with pangs of abandonment. Not that the garden was a showplace out of House and Garden or anything but it was mine and we had an understanding: I would plant stuff and it would grow, maybe. It took me years to cultivate the three rose bushes in the back yard and when they finally produced blooms, I felt like a new mother revelling in the delight of her new offspring. My favorite was the tangerine florabunda that never failed to produce at least one flowering, while the pink hybid tea gave me a few token buds in a good year. We had a combative relationship to say or write the least. As you can tell - I'm feeling sentimental and missing them all.<br /><br />Having moved into the same neighborhood, I frequently make a point of passing by the house and glance out of the car window at the new plant additions or demises. Although the house is no longer ours, I feel a sense of responsibility as to their welfare. In retrospect, it would have been better to keep them in memory. In order to cut back on the cost of annuals, perennials were planted over time in the hope they would fill in the spaces. The rock garden was now covered entirely with wood chips with no sign of my plethora of growing plants, while the rock garden shrubs were transformed into small trees. It's their house now I tell myself wondering if my beloved roses are still in the land of the living.<br /><br />These days my horticultural endeavors are relegated to balcony gardening having brought along my containers and flower boxes, which are filled to capacity with annuals in the summer. It's not the same but I'm still occupied with dead-heading the flowers and watering non-stop since the earth in containers require freqent watering. Two grecian urns were also added that are also filled with an assortment of flowers. Our condo is located near the river where our municipality focuses on planting natural species that are common to this type of area, are visually attractive, yet retain the soil.<br /><br />It's winter and I'm planning for summer cultivation, perhaps adding some mini tomatoes. Maybe I'll go all out and try a small rose bush, knowing from personal experience that roses make slaves of their cultivators. I'm used to it! When it's all said and done, a gardener is always a gardener, even on a balcony.scriberesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16686564738595964556noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26808714.post-44333012656456268892010-07-21T17:17:00.006-04:002010-07-21T23:25:34.742-04:00Watch your thoughts - your plant could know!Keep this between ourselves but I always believed that plants know what we're thinking. Now there's scientific evidence lending some validity to my belief based on some recent experiments conducted by scientists in Poland. New research shows that plants "can think and remember," according to a news story published recently. Of course! Any plant caregiver can attest to this. It's just so...logical.<br /><br />Plants are able to "remember" and "react" to information contained in light, according to the researchers. In their experiment, scientists showed that light shone on one leaf caused the whole plant to respond. Duh! If you were snoozing or the plant equivalent and somebody opened up flashlight beam or beacon on you, you'd react too! Unlike humans plants can't scream out: "get that stupid light out'ta or off"a my leaves or else!" I mean, plants can't really do much in the way of defending themselves against - well - anything. One can only imagine plants horror upon sensing lawn trimming equipment approaching and knowing the ensuing carnage to follow. But I digress.<br /><br />"We shone the light only on the bottom of the plant (the plant used was the arabidopsis specie) and we observed changes in the upper part," explained Professor Stanislaw Karpinski from the Warsaw University of Life Sciences in Poland, who led this research. "And the changes proceeded when the light was off... This was a complete surprise."<br /><br />It shouldn't be. What else could a plant do in the way of a warning to the upper leaf level that light was approaching. The entire experiment must have had the same effect as a flashing lighthouse beacon.<br /><br />Seems that plants have the capacity to relay a message to all the leaves that a dose of light is imminent. There is no mention in the piece the exact reason for conducting this type of experiment but perhaps humans have a lot in common with plants. In his previous work, Professor Karpinski found that chemical signals could be passed throughout whole plants - allowing them to respond to and survive changes and stresses in their environment.<br /><br />As a plant caregiver to numerous plants over the years, some successfully and some not-so-successfully, I've always had this feeling that plants decide whether to thrive or even live based on their like or dislike for the person giving them their basic necessities. Caregivers that frequently neglect to give them water for example or place them in a drafty corner with little light, are reprimanded by the plants by dropping their leaves or a not dead-but-not-quite-alive appearance, conversely, people who talk to their plants with praise and feed them vitamins are rewarded with growth and new leaves. Then again, it's just my opinion for what it's worth and heaven knows I've had many plants that have gone-to-the-composter-in-the-sky over the years.<br /><br />"This requires an appraisal of the situation and an appropriate response - that's a form of intelligence," concluded Professor Christine Foyer, a plant scientist from the University of Leeds.<br />Of course - I could have told them that.scriberesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16686564738595964556noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26808714.post-6554942663573512532009-12-09T09:48:00.007-05:002009-12-11T16:56:21.736-05:00Obituary announcement - death of the green kindIt is with great sorrow that I announce the demise and passing and death of one of my senior house plants, <strong>Ms (or Mr.) Christmas Cactus</strong>. Ms Cactus had been ailing for a while and in spite of generous injections of water and "TLC" - she has gone to meet others of her kind in that great garden in the sky. <br /><br />There is a certain amount of personal guilt attached to this death since her earth had not been changed for a number of years. Okay. Seven years. Its demise most likely is due to indifference on my part to CC's well being and root system. To my credit, though, I did turn over the soil on occasion - okay twice but that counts - to give it breathing space. Obviously, this wasn't enough to sustain her (or his) life force. <br /><br />In retrospect I don't think I really liked CC <em>that </em>much but since its a living thing, I didn't have the guts to discard it. Instead, all I did was give generous doses of liquid to assuage my indifference when I remembered, and that was the extent of care on my part. I should have transplanted it years ago - sigh - life is full of should-have, would-have, could haves. <br /><br />CC even survived the move from her placement on top of the fridge in our former home, to the second shelf on a plant stand in the dining room. Maybe there wasn't enogh light or possibly she (or he - go know!) was too old for a sudden change of surroundings. Plants are so finicky at the best of times. As I wrote - go know.<br /><br />Funeral arrangements have not yet been finalized but most likely it will get a final send-off in front of the garbage shoot down the hall. Perhaps - depending on if anyone else is within hearing range - a few departing words will be spoken in addition to remembering how she brought forth pretty flowers in earlier years.<br /><br />RIP Ms (or Mr.)<strong>Christmas Cactus</strong> - your spirit will live on in your replacement. One last bit of advice: never personalize your relationship with your plant and then ignore it. They know.scriberesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16686564738595964556noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26808714.post-19198355352197053672008-09-26T09:17:00.005-04:002008-09-26T09:55:00.287-04:00The garden has gone to bedNormally at this time of the year I would be busily occupied with preparing my garden for its winter siesta. This would include my usual season angst of having to cut back all the remaining blooms, even though they still provide a splash of color to the otherwise brown and shrivelled up annuals that gave up the fight. Planting fall bulbs...applying fall fertilizer... The usual.<br /><br />Since one year ago, the fall to-do list is no longer applicable since we are now enjoying the benefits of condo living. No longer is the responsibility of ensuring the perennials survival over the winter is in my hands. The new owner can now deal with the guilt that arrives in Spring when the thaw reveals those that didn't make it through the winter. It's somebody else's responsbility now.<br /><br />As an avid but frustrated gardener, my efforts now focus on patio gardening...or patio planting. In the Spring I joined the masses hitting the gardening centres to purchase flowers and plants but my focus was on which species would survive living in urns. We bought four hanging planters containing flowering plants that were already in the midst of a blooming boom. Three survived but there was one failure, which was due to the placement of the plant directly above the barbeque. Surprisingly, the plant didn't die, which would have been easier to accept along with the accompanying guilt, but instead kept growing leaves and leaves and... It's as if it was saying: 'please don't take me down! See? I can still give you pretty leaves!' The guilt just never ends!<br /><br />The best results came from our urns that absolutely thrived due to a perfect balance of light and sunlight thanks to the overhang from the balcony above. Their success is due to the purchase of the special mix of earth created specifically for urns and boxes. Never realized how important a role that earth can make in flower beds and if only I had paid more attention to this aspect in my garden... However, life is full of could-have's, would have's and should-have's for gardeners. Right?<br /><br />We also brought along our wood flower boxes that played host to a cornucopia of lush blooms, which over-flowed the sides and stuck out of the balcony rails. Anybody walking by and looking up at them would have gasped... Okay maybe not gasped but would have been very impressed with the display.<br /><br />Unfortunately, it's that time to say goodbye since the stalks are now thin and "leggy" and suffering from a seasonal fungus that can only be cured by a return to the earth from which they came. There is no guilt since I know everything was done to ensure their longevity for the summer. Kind of a reciprocal relationship. I'm already planning for next year. Maybe some tomatoes might be a challenge... Radishes...and herbs. Condo gardening is flower raising without the guilt. At least so far but then we're still in the early stages. There's always next year.scriberesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16686564738595964556noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26808714.post-53852295106303041232007-11-08T07:29:00.000-05:002007-11-08T07:44:36.006-05:00THE PLANT DOCTOR IS OUT!<strong>by Eleanor Tylbor</strong><br /><br />Today I'm feeling guilty even though there's no real reason for it. As a plant raiser it's common to assume the blame for the demise of a favoured specie and there's always the usual post-mortem 'should-have-would-have-could-have' that follows. It's bad enough having to deal with the death of one's own plants but when they belong to 'others' the guilt is disconcerting to say the least. What type of an explanation can be offered in the way of an excuse? It was an accident? A good news/bad news account i.e. your plant enjoyed living in the flower box and provided a flourish of color. Bad news: it croaked?<br /><br />Am I anguished? Consumed with guilt? You bet! <br /><br />A couple of weeks ago I was asked to intervene in some problematic tropical plants living in an indoor flower box that were slowly dying. <br /><br />"You know all about house plants," were the exact words uttered by the owner who handed me the box in the hope of a miracle resurrection. <br /><br />Do I know about plants! Moi! The person who once had a gardening show on public access television, focusing on how to get the best out of an almost-dead garden.<br /><br /><br /><strong>KNOW</strong>: <em>(vb) knew/knowing; to perceive directly; have understanding or direct cognition of; also to recognize the nature of: to be acquainted or familiar with</em><br /><br /><br />Many green species from many sources have graced the corners and windows of our home ranging from your store-bought tropical and floral types to more earthly beginnings as fruit seeds. However death has stalked many - more than many - following my interventions. This isn't the type of information one divulges when asked to administer first aid of the chlorophyll-type.<br /><br />Anyway, the ailing box of plants, a gift from a valued business acquaintance, held the primo position in the reception area where it could be admired by everyone entering the office. Once the deterioration process set in and the inevitable slip into the hanging on for dear life but not quite dead state, the plant was wisely removed from public view. It was for this reason it ended up on my doorstep, literally and figuratively.<br /><br />Asking a self-professed "green-thumber" the seemingly innocent question as to whether a plant can be saved is akin to issuing a personal challenge, and intimating that there is doubt it can be achieved by mere human intercession. Many plant people consider themselves divinely blessed with special healing abilities. <br /><br />A cursory examination revealed mini spider webs indicating flying visitors in a feasting mode. Let it be stated for the record that enlightening neophyte owners to the presence of spider mites is not a wise move, since it inevitably triggers a fit of scalp scratching followed by a quick departure. There wasn't even enough time to explain that spider mites are vegetarians. <br /><br />Amateurs!<br /><br />While towering over the plants to assess the extent of the problem there was this brief sensation of being omnipotent with the power of life and death in my hands. Following a brief pep talk that included a flourish of compliments regarding their leaves and species, they were given a natural pick-me-up tonic frequently administered to my own houseplants, consisting of dissolved gelatine powder in water. Most of my plants - those that remain - have always responded favourably by producing a flourish of new leaves. To maximize growth potential the box of plants was placed in an area that received diffused light but not direct sun light, which could burn their leaves. In retrospect those plants received better care than members of my family.<br /><br /><strong>Eleanor's Plant Growing Diary</strong><br /><br /><strong>Day 1.</strong> Assessment of problem: black tips on leaves indicating something is wrong. Solution: give plants a healthy dose of dissolved gelatine in water<br /><br /><strong>Day 2.</strong> One of the plants keeled over and died last night. Solution: remove evidencedead plant<br /><br /><strong>Day 3.</strong> Black tips have extended down to cover half the leaves on some of the plants. Checked houseplant book for possible cause. None available although there was mention of an incurable virus. Solution: isolate plant to another area of the room that doesn't receive much light. A bad move on my part.<br /><br /><strong>Day 4.</strong> Woke up to yet another dead plant. The box is beginning to look sparse. Solution: spread out leaves of remaining plants to make it appear more full than it is. Gave the plants another pep talk i.e. "please-oh-please no more death!"<br /><br /><strong>Day 5.</strong> Completely and utterly demoralized. Out of the original six plants, only three live and two are ivy. I mean, who can kill ivy? Perhaps not a good question in light of current events. According to another plant book they probably acquired an incurable virus at point of origin, which cannot be cured, even with divine intervention or my help. Go explain that to the owner!<br /><br /><strong>Day 6.</strong> Turned over soil with plastic spoon. Figured if it works in the garden, it couldn't do any harm in the box. Accidentally dug up an unseen plant originally thought to be dead<br /><br /><strong>Day 7:</strong> Seriously considering replacing the "dearly departed" with some new plants. Problem exists in that I can't remember the types of plant and which went where<br /><br /><strong>Day 8.</strong> Received a phone call from the owner as to an update and was advised that the box is being picked up. Panic!<br /><br /><strong>Day 9.</strong> Owner will be here in an hour. Panic!<br /><br /><strong>Day 10.</strong> Plant box has gone along with my credibility. I mean, it was only plants, after all! There was no reason for the name-calling! Gave owner one of my avocado plants in the way of an apology along with the assurance of free avocados within three months<br /><br />In case anybody wants to know, the doctor is out. Got that?scriberesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16686564738595964556noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26808714.post-80301895740028895752007-08-27T09:10:00.000-04:002007-08-27T09:22:17.337-04:00FITTONIA LIVES...FOR NOWMy fittonia is still in the land of the living but no thanks to Walmart. If there's an underlying (or underlaying...whatever) message to this whole experience is don't trust Walmart's plastic information sticks because they lie. Perhaps 'lie' would be a little too strong. Let's say the sticks don't know anything about the plants in which they are inserted.<br /><br />My stick as did all the other information sticks so that should say something in itself, instructed the care giver to "little light. Very little water." My interpretation of these words was to place it away from direct light and in a shady place and to water it only when the soil was dry. By now I should have developed a sense of humor when it comes to houseplant raising but the truth is - I haven't. Their eventual demise always gets to me.<br /><br />It began with the shrivelling of the leaves and then their eventual fall followed by the stalks losing color. Before moving we had an intimate chat as to our relationship in that it would have a place in the new apartment as long as it showed signs that it wanted to live. Things didn't look promising for a while, however, desperation and a strong desire to assume the role of giver and extender of life, I gave it a healthy dose of water and placed it in front of a window that received diffused light. Behold and verily, verily - a miracle happened! Over the the next few days the plant's white veined leaves returned to their former healthy state and tiny buds appeared at the leaf junctions. To say I was jubilant - and shocked - but obviously pleased with this miracle (at least I like to think it was and is a miracle) would be an understatement.<br /><br />So now fittonia receives the conventional houseplant care and appears to be loving it. Keep my experience in mind when Walmart has a sale on houseplants: information sticks are liars.scriberesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16686564738595964556noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26808714.post-90489643403258684412007-05-02T12:59:00.000-04:002007-05-02T13:25:23.330-04:00Day 2: fittonia update: the news is not so goodSo as instructed on the plastic information stick(?) I've been keeping my <em>fittonia</em> away from direct light...whatever that means. Presumably, it's telling me to keep it away from the sun.<br /><br />Check.<br /><br />The stick instructions also maintain that it doesn't like too much water.<br /><br />Check.<br /><br />However, barely 24 hours in my care and home, the tips of the leaves don't look so well. They are sort-of shrivelling and turning the dreaded brownish-blackish.<br /><br />A consult was in order so I thumbed through the pages of my <strong>"Directory of House Plants"</strong> for some help or direction to take. According to the book <em>Fitty</em> needs high humidity and my house is drrrry. This does not bode well. The proverbial icing on the cake is the sentence: "Difficult to keep unless the humidity is high, but plants do well in a bottle garden."<br /><br />Bottle garden?<br /><br />This got me thinking. Perhaps - just perhaps - I could slice the top off a 2 litre soft drink bottle and Fitty could move in. Kind of a "bubble plant" type of existence. The attention value would be great especially when friends visit.<br /><br />"Um...I don't want to seem instrusive," one of my nosy friends would most likely comment, "but is there any reason why your plant is in a Coke bottle?"<br /><br />Going into lengthy explanations as to the rationale behind my move i.e. bottle+humidity=life for Fitty, would just make me appear even more weird than they already believe I am. Or I could place Fitty in a plastic zip-lock bag sprayed with water and see what happens.<br /><br />So today Fitty is moving in to a zip lock bag. Maybe it'll work...or maybe it won't. More reports forthcoming.scriberesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16686564738595964556noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26808714.post-86355404729501207162007-05-01T16:00:00.000-04:002007-05-01T16:26:40.055-04:00Plastic plant information sticks are liars!A new "baby"of the chlorophyll-kind has joined the "family" known as a <em>"Fittonia"</em> and although its a real cutie, I see heartbreak ahead. Bought at Walmart for $1.69 the plastic information stick advises that this specie likes "a little light and very little water." Problem is how valid are the instructions especially when it's applicable to 200 other plants types?<br /><br />The way that I see it and read things, all tropical plants fall into one of two categories:<br /><br />a) "Little light. Very little water."<br /><br />or...<br /><br />b) "Lots of light. Water generously"<br /><br />That's it folks!<br /><br />According to information obtained on the Web, this specie requires extra-special care. Here's a photo of the newcomer on the Wiki site and some information:<br /><br /><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fittonia" target="_blank">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fittonia</a><br /><br />Can't help but note the somewhat disturbing blurb, "without water for a few days, this plant is known to "faint" but is easily revived with a quick watering and resumes its healthiness."<br /><br />Oh gawd! Just what I need! A flower that faints at the slightest provocation! More guilt! If I go away for a short or longer vacation, my son who believes that all plants are created equally could either over-water or under-water her/him/it!<br /><br />Furthermore, "the Fittonia is known to be difficult to grow so it is best bought at a nursery then cared for."<br /><br />This just might be a really short relationship.<br /><br />Anyway, according to the instructions and advice on the plastic stick, Fittonia likes "little light - Very little water." Maybe yes and maybe no.<br /><br />What I want to know is who writes these information blurbs, anyway? Is it somebody who actually knows about plant raising or someone in public relations who also writes blurbs for fortune cookies? Perhaps on occasion she/he gets them mixed up and we houseplant raisers get the wrong information. Someone might crack open a fortune cookie and hoping to get some advice on their love life, might instead read: "lots of light. Water generously." At least that would explain all the deaths in the "family."<br /><br />So Fittonia - I'll call her Fitty for short - is bathing in sunlight. Why I don't know because maybe she would prefer shade. I <em>think </em>she would prefer shade but go know! In the end a guess is as good as a plastic stick.<br /><br /><br /><span style="color:#990000;"><strong>Writers & Friends</strong></span><br /><a href="http://www.jrslater.com/forum">www.jrslater.com/forum</a>scriberesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16686564738595964556noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26808714.post-84298512942961615192007-04-28T14:29:00.001-04:002011-03-11T21:02:25.077-05:00SPRING HAS SPRUNG...tra-la tra-la<strong><em>"Oh, give us pleasure in the flowers today; And give us not to think so far away As the uncertain harvest; keep us here All simply in the springing of the year."</em></strong><br /><strong>(Robert Frost)</strong><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"><strong>FIRST SPRING LOOK INTO THE GARDEN</strong></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">My rock garden</span> has what started out to be multi-colored <em>achillea millifolium</em> a.k.a. yarrow, but for some unknown reason changed to plain, old pink flowers, in addition to <em>achillea filipendulina</em> a.k.a. fern leaf yarrow (yellow), <em>bergenia cordifolia</em> a.k.a. pig squeak, which really doesn't belong in a rock garden but I like it there because of its early-blooming pink flowers and the leaves that start out green and slowly turn pink-ish as the summer wanes, I think - not sure yet - I lost the <em>campanula lactiflora</em>, which had such pretty lavender-colored flowers. On the side of the rock garden that is in the shade there is <em>hosta rectifolia</em> that I'm using as an anchor between the rocks.<br /><br /><strong><em>"The Amen of nature is always a flower."</em></strong><br /><strong><em>(Oliver Wendell Holmes)</em></strong><br /><br />There is a lot of<em> sedum</em> planted in various areas of the rock garden when we first bought the house that I have divided over the years. One thing about this species is that it never lets you down and returns year after year. There are also (very) mature evergreen miniatures that really should be removed and replaced since they're in that not-alive-but-not-dead-either netherland state of being. I'm a very sentimental gardener.In the back flower bed against a fence I'm growing beds of <em>rudbeckia</em> that have taken over a large area but their pretty yellow heads with brown centres blowing in the breeze are just so...happy-looking.<br /><br /><strong><em>"In the spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt." </em></strong><br /><strong><em>(Margaret Atwood)</em></strong><br /><br />Way in the back hidden under the bough of a fir tree that my next door neighbor agrees not to trim, a white and pink gypsophila plant is growing relatively well, with some years better than others. The <em>anemone</em> are also flourishing and although this is a strong flower that has a tendency to take over the garden, it doesn't transplant well. On the shady side of my house I had a beautiful bed of <em>pink dianthus</em> flourishing there for years but for some bizarre reason, which I can't fathom for the life of me (I'm so dramatic!), they up and died, each and every one. The blue-colored <em>Forget-me-nots</em> will bloom in the middle of May and there is something so lovable - at least for me, anyway - about these blooms. Guess it has to do with their name.<br /><br />In addition to my <em>Iris</em> bed on the sunny side of the house, I also have a scattering of <em>purple coneflowers</em> sort of hiding between the iris leaves. The effect is nice, though. Then of course we have the <em>hollyhocks</em>, that are supposed to be a biennial but return every year since they self-seed.<br /><br />There are more but I can't remember their names right now but I'll check later on the garden sites. I mainly use two gardening books that I bought on sale at a local book outlet: "<strong>An Illustrated Guide to Garden Flowers"</strong> and <strong>"Popular Flowering Plants."</strong> Thing is that while I love the beautiful photographs, many of the species would croak in my growing zone so I really should be buying books that are specifically geared towards Canadian growing zones. One of my best gardening books...actually a soft-covered book was picked up for $1.50 at a second-hand store. Very, very basic but all-inclusive so gardeners don't have to pay a lot of money to get good advice.<br /><br /><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></strong>scriberesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16686564738595964556noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26808714.post-1176056907250490652007-04-08T14:20:00.001-04:002009-01-11T16:05:51.133-05:00A GARDENING STATE OF MIND: FAVORITE GARDENING SITESGlancing out of my window at light snow falling, it certainly doesn't resemble anything Spring like and definitely doesn't send one into a gardening state of mind. Be that as it may it won't be long before gardeners will be tilling the earth, seeding and all the other steps that they hope will result in a successful growing season.<br /><br />When it comes to gardening everyone - at least most gardeners - have a favorite site to which they return for information. These are the sites that offer the basic "how-to's" or ABC's of getting things to grow and more importantly, to live and hopefully, thrive.<br /><br />Achieving a successful garden depends on the garden's geographical location and using species that are natural to that particular area. Other factors involved are the length of the growing season, the amount of sun, rain fall, etc. Here are some of my favorites:<br /><br /><strong>Icangarden<br /></strong><a href="http://www.icangarden.com/" target="_blank">http://www.icangarden.com/</a>- a Canadian site, it contains a wealth of information about all aspects of gardening with information suited for all areas of the U.S. and Canada. Helpful articles, live chat with experts, Kidz Korner, Gardening Communities...more<br /><br /><strong>GardenWeb</strong> <a href="http://www.gardenweb.com/" target="_blank">http://www.gardenweb.com/</a> - "The Internet's Garden and Home Community". Resources including a botany base, forums, photo galleries<br /><br /><strong>National Gardening Association</strong><br /><a href="http://www.garden.org/home" target="_blank">http://www.garden.org/home</a> - "The National Gardening Association (NGA), founded in 1973, is a nonprofit leader in plant-based education."<br />Site contains plant finder, weed library, pest control, etc. Over-all excellent resource<br /><br /><strong>Cornell University Gardening Resources</strong><br /><a href="http://www.gardening.cornell.edu/" target="_blank">http://www.gardening.cornell.edu/</a><br />Anything and everything(!) related to gardening and growing<br /><br /><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">If you're reading this then chances are you're a gardener. Share your (non-commercial) favorite sites with others so we all can become better growers!</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></strong>scriberesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16686564738595964556noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26808714.post-1175724098714436572007-04-04T17:46:00.001-04:002009-01-11T16:04:29.162-05:00SCHEFFLERA UPDATE - IT'S ALIVEWell...the news is good - so far. My <span style="color:#006600;">schefflera</span> is still alive.<br /><br />It's been approximately two weeks since it joined a couple of other plant oldies and its i.e. the plant, is holding its own. On one occasion there appeared to be small white-ish webs on the underside of the leaves so rather than use the "bad" <em>spritz-spritz-kill-those-bugs </em>stuff, I washed the entire plant with tap water. Of course it could have been just plain dust bunnies and not spider mite webs, but we plant owners can't and shouldn't take chances.<br /><br />I'm still lonely for the dearly departed fern and am contemplating buying another fern-type. Fern's premature death could have been as a result of plant/owner anxiety separation and now that I'm home, at least this reason/cause can be eliminated.<br /><br />As for the schefflera while it's still alive, its just...there. No new leaves and no signs of anything, actually. I've moved it around the room in the hope of seeing some new sprouting but that hasn't worked.<br /><br />Maybe it requires vitamins. I shall now focus upon getting the plant to bud.<br /><br /><br /><span style="color:#990000;">To be continued...</span>scriberesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16686564738595964556noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26808714.post-1174826504233380542007-03-25T09:27:00.000-04:002007-04-07T08:05:16.836-04:00IT'S GREEN...IT HAS LEAVES...IT'S A SCHEFFLERAFollowing the death of...the passing...croaking of the fern, I am somewhat pleased to announce the arrival of a new plant. I use the term "somewhat" since nothing can <em>immediately</em> replace that cute, little sassy fern, which stole my heart! There was something about the way she/he grew in that special fern-ish medium a.k.a. dirt with those unique-ish delicate fronds extending from the earth....<br /><br />Enough mourning.<br /><br />As I wrote a new plant, a <em>schefflera</em>, has joined the household. I've always admired this specie when passing through the garden centres with its umbrella-like leaves plus it was on sale at Walmart for $2.29. One i.e. me, wonders how 'they' arrive at these weird prices for items. Like $9.97 or $3.39... Be that as it may it was too good a bargain and opportunity to pass up.<br /><br />One doesn't just pick up the first plant that one lays eyes on because in my humble opinion, the weak species are always placed in the front by store personnel who receive their orders from plant growers.<br /><br />"Dear Store Clerk or whoever is reading this," they most probably write. "Please note that in spite of our efforts to produce flaw-less species, some of our plants are rejects. To maximize their chances of being sold to suckers...plant lovers, please place this houseplant and others similar in appearance in front of your display."<br /><br />We're talking here about feeble plants or those with spider mites that will live on average a couple of months (most times less), after which they croak and then you feel guilty and assume the blame when in effect, it's all a big plot to unload those that don't make the grade. Believe me - I know!<br /><br />After ten to fifteen minutes of looking over, picking-up-and-replacing many plants, finally the decision was made and the dye cast...whatever. The law of gravity even came into play. Pots/containers turned upside down to examine the underside of leaves will result in the falling of earth everywhere. Do scientists know about this?<br /><br />According to various houseplant sites, raising schefflera is simplicity personified. There is one little downside to this plant, however (isn't there always?): spider mites! Seems that these absolutely ghastly insect interlopera love scheffies (I've already personalized our relationship)! Yesterday as a preventative measure I washed each and every leaf on scheffy, however, if there are any of the usual tell-tale signs of infestation i.e. weeny spider webs, I'll have to switch to insecticide soap. Of course I always use the environmentally-friendly stuff but as someone once mentioned: how friendly could it be given the end result. Always with the guilt.<br /><br /><br /><br />Here's some garden-friendly sites worth visiting:<br /><br /><a href="http://www.icangarden.com/document.cfm?task=viewcategory&categoryid=266">http://www.icangarden.com/document.cfm?task=viewcategory&categoryid=266</a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.perennials.com/">http://www.perennials.com/</a><br /><br /><a href="http://gardeninglaunchpad.com/">http://gardeninglaunchpad.com/</a><br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#cc0000;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Suggestions of your favorite gardening sites welcome!!!</span><br /></span></strong><a href="http://www.perennials.com/"></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.jrslater.com/forum"><span style="color:#cc0000;"><strong>www.jrslater.com/forum</strong></span></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.perennials.com/"></a>scriberesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16686564738595964556noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26808714.post-1173456988134001382007-03-09T11:06:00.000-05:002007-04-06T16:05:43.956-04:00The Suicidal FernUpon reading about the death of my fern whom I named Fern, it was suggested to me that perhaps - just perhaps - my fern committed suicide of the chlorophyll type. At first I scoffed and laughed at such a suggestion. I mean - c'mon - plant suicide? Then I thought further about this possibility. Is there no end to the guilt I must bear?<br /><br />See...I left Fern, the fern, in the care of my son and daughter-in-law during a five week holiday, assuming they would at least be able to keep it alive until I returned. Although I'm sure they meant well, they're mere common houseplant caregivers with no experience in this type of species. So in conducting their weekly watering, they probably gave Fern an ample dose of tap water (not bought bottled water as Fern prefers and is accustomed to) to sustain her. Ferns are known to be emotional (somebody told me that) finicky and spiteful. Upon realizing that it was getting water straight from the tap, it probably/could have/might have turned on them (and me) and closed down. Given the temporary caregivers experience dealing with finicky species, they probably figured that the dark green shade it turned was normal, when in effect it was committing suicide.<br /><br />Actually, I had thought about bringing along Fern on holiday with me but was worried we'd be stopped at the border since the transportation of plants out of the country is a no-no.<br /><br />"What's that?" a customs officer might have asked, retrieving Fern and holding it up.<br /><br />"Oh that? Well...it's a plant, kind customs person," I would have told the officer.<br /><br />"Hmmmm...what type of plant? The kind that you roll the leaves and smoke? Huh?" he must have continued, examining Fern's leaves and sniffing the air.<br /><br />"It's a fern, officer," I would have answered.<br /><br />"Oh yeah? How do I know that?" he would have peppered me with questions.<br /><br />"Trust me. Here - look at the plastic information stick they supply. See? F-E-R-N," I would have told the customs person."<br /><br />"Perhaps...but you can't transport living things accross the border, y'know!" the customs person would have informed us, matter of factly.<br /><br />"Why not? I bring him along!" I would have commented, pointing to my husband and laughing.<br /><br />At that point my husband would, knowing him, chirp in and tell the customs person to confiscate the plant since he's a law-abiding citizen. He's also not a fern lover. Not a fern hater you understand but definitely not a lover or even liker, either.<br /><br />As for the blooming Christmas Cactus that is covered in red blossoms - it probably flowered in my absence to punish me. Absence does not make the heart grow fonder. Trust me on that.scriberesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16686564738595964556noreply@blogger.com0