One 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?
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.
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? 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. 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. 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? 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. So, why try. Think of all the money and energy which could be saved having 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. "My blank-blank, what a beautiful crop of dandelions you have this year. So healthy and yellow," people will comment enviously. "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. 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?
Showing posts with label gardening. Show all posts
Showing posts with label gardening. Show all posts
Sunday, April 28, 2013
Saturday, May 12, 2012
Spring - the garden beds are gone but the memory lingers on
Today 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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
"In joy or sadness, flowers are our constant friends."
- Kozuko Okakura
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
"In joy or sadness, flowers are our constant friends."
- Kozuko Okakura
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.
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.
Saturday, December 11, 2010
The garden has gone to seed but hope springs eternal
Not 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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Wednesday, December 09, 2009
Obituary announcement - death of the green kind
It is with great sorrow that I announce the demise and passing and death of one of my senior house plants, Ms (or Mr.) Christmas Cactus. 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.
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.
In retrospect I don't think I really liked CC that 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.
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.
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.
RIP Ms (or Mr.)Christmas Cactus - 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.
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.
In retrospect I don't think I really liked CC that 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.
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.
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.
RIP Ms (or Mr.)Christmas Cactus - 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.
Friday, September 26, 2008
The garden has gone to bed
Normally 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.
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.
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!
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?
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.
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.
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.
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!
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?
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.
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.
Thursday, November 08, 2007
THE PLANT DOCTOR IS OUT!
by Eleanor Tylbor
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?
Am I anguished? Consumed with guilt? You bet!
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.
"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.
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.
KNOW: (vb) knew/knowing; to perceive directly; have understanding or direct cognition of; also to recognize the nature of: to be acquainted or familiar with
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.
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.
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.
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.
Amateurs!
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.
Eleanor's Plant Growing Diary
Day 1. Assessment of problem: black tips on leaves indicating something is wrong. Solution: give plants a healthy dose of dissolved gelatine in water
Day 2. One of the plants keeled over and died last night. Solution: remove evidencedead plant
Day 3. 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.
Day 4. 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!"
Day 5. 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!
Day 6. 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
Day 7: 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
Day 8. Received a phone call from the owner as to an update and was advised that the box is being picked up. Panic!
Day 9. Owner will be here in an hour. Panic!
Day 10. 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
In case anybody wants to know, the doctor is out. Got that?
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?
Am I anguished? Consumed with guilt? You bet!
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.
"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.
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.
KNOW: (vb) knew/knowing; to perceive directly; have understanding or direct cognition of; also to recognize the nature of: to be acquainted or familiar with
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.
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.
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.
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.
Amateurs!
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.
Eleanor's Plant Growing Diary
Day 1. Assessment of problem: black tips on leaves indicating something is wrong. Solution: give plants a healthy dose of dissolved gelatine in water
Day 2. One of the plants keeled over and died last night. Solution: remove evidencedead plant
Day 3. 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.
Day 4. 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!"
Day 5. 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!
Day 6. 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
Day 7: 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
Day 8. Received a phone call from the owner as to an update and was advised that the box is being picked up. Panic!
Day 9. Owner will be here in an hour. Panic!
Day 10. 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
In case anybody wants to know, the doctor is out. Got that?
Monday, August 27, 2007
FITTONIA LIVES...FOR NOW
My 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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Sunday, April 08, 2007
A GARDENING STATE OF MIND: FAVORITE GARDENING SITES
Glancing 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.
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.
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:
Icangarden
http://www.icangarden.com/- 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
GardenWeb http://www.gardenweb.com/ - "The Internet's Garden and Home Community". Resources including a botany base, forums, photo galleries
National Gardening Association
http://www.garden.org/home - "The National Gardening Association (NGA), founded in 1973, is a nonprofit leader in plant-based education."
Site contains plant finder, weed library, pest control, etc. Over-all excellent resource
Cornell University Gardening Resources
http://www.gardening.cornell.edu/
Anything and everything(!) related to gardening and growing
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!
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.
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:
Icangarden
http://www.icangarden.com/- 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
GardenWeb http://www.gardenweb.com/ - "The Internet's Garden and Home Community". Resources including a botany base, forums, photo galleries
National Gardening Association
http://www.garden.org/home - "The National Gardening Association (NGA), founded in 1973, is a nonprofit leader in plant-based education."
Site contains plant finder, weed library, pest control, etc. Over-all excellent resource
Cornell University Gardening Resources
http://www.gardening.cornell.edu/
Anything and everything(!) related to gardening and growing
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!
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