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Book Club: Passalong Plants

I must admit, I didn't read this month's Garden Blogger's Book Club selection, Passalong Plants by Steve Bender.  Of course, our wonderful host Carol, wonderful person that she is, is very forgiving about actually having to read the book, so I'm taking the easy way out - writing about a few pass-along plants in my own garden.

Because my garden is fairly new, and I've spent the last few years focusing on building my vegetable garden, I don't have all that many flowering plants yet. But I would say that at least half of what I have have been passed along from one source or another.

The first pass-along I have to feature is this beautiful purple and white bearded iris. Two summers ago, one of my mother-in-law's neighbors was building a new garage where the old homeowner had her perennial bed. She offered us as many plants as we wanted, as she didn't plan to have any gardens (!). Because it was mid-June, not much was in flower, so we had to guess as to what was there. The irises were obvious, but what wasn't obvious were the colors. I really don't like many bearded irises, especially the pastel ones, but I decided to take some, figuring I could take them out if I didn't like them. After moving them two summers ago, they did not bloom at all last spring. But this spring they took off. They just finished blooming earlier this week, and I really enjoyed them.

This yellow bearded iris was a complete surprise. It came from the same garden as the purple irises. Since nothing bloomed last year, I had no idea that I actually had two different colors. Luckily for me, I managed to plant most of them in the correct clumps, so they look nice as-is. These just started on Memorial Day, just as the purple irises were finishing. I just wish I had a better picture. Between my poor camera skills and a wild puppy whose leash knocked the stems down two days ago, they don't look nearly as nice as they did right before blooming.

This fushia flower is a pass-along plant from someone I work with. She no longer remembers the name, but it's some sort of ornamental thorn-less thistle. I planted it three summers ago. Last year it looked nice, but this year it's come into its own. The plant is very bushy, and will produce flowers on and off throughout the summer. According to my work colleague, it will produce a few volunteers, but otherwise is very well-behaved. If you click on the picture of the yellow irises to enlarge it, you'll see more of these flowers in the background.

I'm really hoping to gain more plants this summer from my mom. She's always had gardens, and I know last year she was talking about dividing several of her flowers. I'll just keep my fingers crossed!

Book Club: The Gardener's Year

A garden is never finished. In that sense it is like the human world and all human undertakings.
    ~ Karel Capek, The Gardener's Year, p. 92

Karel Capek's little gardening book, The Gardener's Year, is a charming account of the gardener's joys and agonies throughout the year. Because it's a slim volume, a reader might easily dismiss it as a mere trifle. However, any gardener will recognize the age-old truths about which Capek writes.

The Gardener's Year takes the reader through a twelve-month cycle, from January through December. It is obvious from the beginning that Capek is a real "dirt gardener" (as Elizabeth Lawrence would say). He agonizes about the weather regardless of the season. If it's winter, it's either too cold or too warm. If it's summer, it's either too wet or too dry.

If nothing else proves that Capek is a dirt gardener, it's his fascination with the soil. Besides devoting an entire chapter to the making of "this noble and humane work which is called the soil," he refers to it continually throughout the book. In the chapter "On the Art of Gardening," Capek writes, ". . . I find that a real gardener is not a man who cultivates flowers; he is a man who cultivates the soil. . . . He lives buried in the ground. He builds his monument in a heap of compost. If he came into the Garden of Eden he would sniff excitedly and say: 'Good Lord, what humus!'" Later in the book, Capek continues on the theme of heaven-sent soil amendments: "Yes, improve the soil. A cartload of manure is most beautiful when it is brought on a frosty day, so that it steams like a sacrificial altar. When its fragrance reaches heaven, He who understands all things sniffs and says: 'Um, that's some nice manure.'" I just wonder if the original Czech word was "manure!"

I think it would be impossible to choose my favorite chapter - my favorite changes with the seasons. However, if I was forced to decide right now, I think I would choose "Buds." Here in the still-brown and muddy upper Midwest, we are waiting for just this moment, the moment the buds beging to open: "You must stand still; and then you will see open lips and furtive glances, tender fingers, and raised arms, the fragility of a baby, and the rebellious outburst of the will to live, and then you will hear the infinite march of the buds faintly roaring."

Book Club: Two Gardeners

When Carol at May Dreams Gardens selected Two Gardeners: A Friendship in Letters by Katharine S. White and Elizabeth Lawrence as February's Garden Blogger's Book Club selection, I was quite pleased. I had purchased the book back in November and hadn't been inspired to start reading it. This was the perfect catalyst.

Little did I know that once I started reading Two Gardeners that I would barely be able to put it down. I ended up finishing the book in three days. What a delightful book!

Elizabeth Lawrence and Katharine White first "met" when Lawrence wrote to White to praise White's article, "A Romp in the Catalogs," published in The New Yorker in 1958. This began a correspondence that lasted until Katharine's death in 1977.

Over the almost 20 years that they wrote to one another, they only met once, in 1967.  Their's was a friendship of distance, and of words. They were drawn together because of a common interest in gardening and writing, but as their correspondence deepened, they became friends and confidants.

Because they both write about gardening, the reader assumes that there will be a lot of horticultural descriptions and advice throughout the letters. And while there is much talk of gardens and plants - both women describe what's in bloom, specific flowers and the weather - gardening is not the only glue that holds these women's friendship together.

To me, in many ways, this was not so much a book about gardening but a book about being an author. Both women spent their lives in the publishing world - Katharine as an editor and writer for The New Yorker and Elizabeth as a book author and columnist for magazines and newspapers - and their overriding concern with publishing and books shines through their letters. From the first letter from Elizabeth to Katharine suggesting different catalogs that Katharine could review in her next article, to the last letter from Katharine to Elizabeth making final arrangements for their letters to be archived, these two women were writers first.

Throughout their correspondence, Katharine asks for advice on books, catalogs and horticulture, and uses the information she learns from Elizabeth in her articles. Likewise, Elizabeth bounces ideas off Katharine and asks for advice in dealing with publishers. During the years, they trade books that they think the other would like.

This all seems as if the correspondence was dry and professional, but it was anything but that. Each woman continually encourages and praises the other, listens to her friend's description of household ills and personal problems, and chats about friends and family. At one point, when Katharine is very ill, Elizabeth sends her cuttings of various flowers and plants from her garden.

Another overriding concern to both women is health. Katharine White had a lot of health problems through the course of the book and according to the editor she and her husband E. B. White were very concerned about their health. Elizabeth Lawrence cares for her sick mother at home through about 10 years of letters and discusses her situation often. Additionally, as both women age (Katharine was 84 when she died in 1977, and Elizabeth was about 10 years younger), both their own physical condition and that of those around them begins to deteriorate.

As a reader of these letters, I felt that I began to know these two women. I admired their devotion to family, sympathized with their pains and illnesses, and enjoyed watching their friendship take root and flower over the years.

Book Club: Teaming with Microbes

The Garden Blogger's Book Club selection for January - Teaming with Microbes: A Gardener's Guide to the Food Web by Jeff Lowenfels and Wayne Lewis - is not a book I would ever pick up on my own. My ability to avoid all things related to math or science was well-developed by the time I was a freshman in college, and I've found that (my) adult life doesn't require much knowledge beyond the basics (and even those seem fuzzy sometimes).

So it was with some trepidation that I started reading Teaming with Microbes. As I read, I found that the authors made the chemistry and biology palatable and understandable to this die-hard English major, and I found myself drawn into the world beneath our feet.

Rather than writing a typical review, I'm going to describe some of the things that I learned that have some practical application to my own garden. Some people may find these concepts useful, some may not, but these are ideas and techniques will influence the way that I garden this year.

To learn more about the Garden Blogger's Book Club, visit Carol over at May Dreams Gardens.

Bacteria and fungi are at the bottom of the soil food web, and feeding them will help to attract other good organisms to the garden. The bacteria and fungi "hold" nutrients until they die - or are eaten by other things - at which point the nutrients are released to the soil through the higher organisms excrement. Thus, feeding bacteria and fungi is the key to healthy soil (pp. 21-22).

Perennials, trees and shrubs prefer higher fungi levels in the soil. Vegetables, annuals and grasses prefer higher bacteria levels (p. 26).

Anaerobic bacteria live in the absence of oxygen and smell bad (i.e., rotten meat). Aerobic bacteria live in the presence of oxygen and smell good (i.e., the smell of earth). (p. 46)

Bacteria create bacterial slime, which "glues" the bacteria to the soil. Thus, when bacteria die, the nutrients they have accumulated - especially nitrogen - stay in the soil. Artificial fertilizers are only available as nutrients at the time they touch the soil. Once they wash through, they're gone. Thus, feeding the bacteria creates more nutrients than adding artificial fertilizers (p. 50).

Fungi grow into long strands and collect nutrients that are not available until the fungi die. However, when they die those nutrients are immediately available to the soil. Strands of fungi also create tiny tunnels in the soil, allowing oxygen and water. "Fungi are the primary decay agents in the soil food web" (p. 56). Fungi feed from several sources (leaf litter, soil, plant exudate) so are widely available in the soil. (pp. 54-57)

Mycorrhizal fungi are those that live in a symbiotic relationship with plants' roots. The plant provides nutrients via the root exudate, and the fungi bring back other nutrients from the soil to the plants. It is estimated that 90-95% of plants form mycorrhizae. Fungi are very fragile. Compaction or rototilling breaks up and crushes the fungal tubes (p. 60).

Protozoa eat bacteria and fungi and their wastes make minerals available to the soil. ". . .  [A]s much as 80% of the nitrogen a plant needs comes from the wastes produced by bacteria- and fungi-eating protozoa. Since bacteria and fungi are attracted by plant exudates to the rhizospere [the area directly around the plants' roots], and that is where protozoa consume them, a huge source of plant food is delivered, right around the roots." (p. 73)

Nematodes eat bacteria, fungi, protozoa and each other, thus releasing more nutrients into the soil. Because nematodes need less nitrogen than protozoa, they release more than protozoa. Nematodes need porous soil in which to live, so will not be present if the soil is compacted (p. 76).

Arthropods are food in the soil food web and "are important to the community as shredders, predators and soil aerators" (p. 79). "Most soil arthropods, particularly those that reside on the soil surface, are shredders. They chew up organic matter in their constant quest for food, creating smaller pieces. As a result, fungal and bacterial activity is increased because shredding exposes surfaces on organic litter that give bacteria and fungi and easier avenue of attack" (p. 81).

Forest soils are more acidic because the bacteria cannot keep up with converting wastes into nitrate. So, more wastes are ammonium (which are more acidic) and the bacteria leave (p. 85). Earthworms cannot live in acidic soil, so there will be fewer (or none) in a forest setting. This means - at our house - that our woods will be much more fungal (and thus acid) than bacterial and won't have a lot of worms.

". . . [A]n acre of good garden soil contains 2 to 3 million earthworms (anywhere from 10 to 50 per square foot); this is enough to do a bulldozer's amount of work and indeed, this crew is capable of moving an astonishing 18 tons of soil a year in search of food" (p. 85).

"They [earthworms] are intimately involved in the shredding of organic matter , the aeration of soil, the aggregation of soil particles, and the movement of  organic matter and microorganisms throughout the soil. They also increase microbial populations and aid plant root growth" (p. 86). "Worms can deposit a staggering 10 to 15 tons of castings per acre on the surface annually" (p. 87). Worms also shred and burrow, which both have obvious benefits to the soil.

Early succession communities (and vegetable gardens) are bacterially dominated. As more organic litter accumulates and later succession communities end up being dominated by fungi. There is the same amount of bacteria in all types of soil, but fungi increases along each step (pp. 101-102).

Compost can be made to be either dominated by either bacteria or fungi, depending on the plants you want to feed (vegetables, annuals and grasses like bacteria, perennials, trees and shrubs like fungi). Brown material has more carbon and thus feeds fungi, green material has more nitrogen and thus feeds bacteria. The book then goes on to describe how to make compost. To feed the soil, put 1/4 to 1 inch of compost around the plants. (pp. 117-128)

Most brown mulches are fungal, and one of the best is leaves. If the leaves are shredded very fine, then they become bacterial (more edges for them to eat). Buried leaves are also more bacterial as they hold more moisture. Peat is biologically sterile so it needs to be mixed with something else that will feed the soil. Leaves or shredded bark on the surface is fungal; ground leaves, green material, wet or dug in is bacterial. If using wood chips, maker sure they are 3/8" or smaller to encourage fungal growth. (pp. 129-133)

To make the most effective use of mulch, make your own "protozoa soup" - application will help to start the feeding process immediately. "Soak fresh grass clippings, alfalfa, hay or straw in dechlorinated water for three or four days. It is a good idea to bubble the water with an aquarium air pump and air stone . . . to keep the mix aerobic. . . .  Pour this protozoa soup on mulches and you will increase the nutrient cycling power . . . ." (p. 133)

Compost Tea (pp. 134-147): The authors are really into this (see El's comments at Fast Grow the Weeds for a humorous take on this). I'm sure this works great, but it's way more work than I know I'm going to do. However, I know it's there if I ever change my mind.

The Lawn (pp. 148-157): Spouse and I have never used pesticides or fertilizers on any lawn we've had. At this house, we live in a very natural area where none of the neighbors worry too much about the perfect lawn. There are some handy tips in this chapter, but other than perhaps trying some corn gluten meal for the dandelions (which I've been meaning to do for years), we will just leave it be.

The authors show some awesome pictures comparing plants that were inoculated with myccorhizal fungal spores before planting (p. 162, p. 169), and I'm definitely going to do it this year. I've always used inoculants for peas and beans, but I didn't know how helpful they were for almost all other plants. You use ectomycorrhizal fungi for conifers and hardwood trees. You use endomycorrhizal fungi for most shrubs, softwood trees, perennials, annuals and some vegetables (p. 162). Vegetables that don't form mycorrhyzae are brassicas (including cabbage, mustard and broccoli) and the Chenopodiaceae family (spinach and beets) (pp. 169-170).

In the vegetable garden, the keys to success are no rototilling (p. 166), using green mulch to foster bacteria (p. 167), apply protozoa soup to speed up feeding (p. 168), and using endomycorrhizal fungi where appropriate (p. 169).

With raised beds in the vegetable garden I've never needed to rototill, but I have been "digging in" compost. Ironically, I've never "dug in" compost for the perennials - I've always just dug a hole and threw a handful of compost on the bottom of the hole before sticking the plant in. I think maybe I baby my vegetables too much.

I've also used some green mulch on the veggies, but because our scraggly lawn doesn't grow very fast, the few grass clippings we have stay on the lawn. I'll definitely be looking at how I can do more green mulching. And I'm really excited to try protozoa soup and mycorrhyzal fungi.

Book Club: My Favorite Plant, part 1

I just started reading My Favorite Plant: Writers and Gardeners on the Plants They Love, edited by Jamaica Kincaid. This is the December selection for the Garden Blogger's Book Club, hosted by Carol at May Dreams Garden. Since it's December in Minnesota, and there is very little to blog about in the garden, I will devote more than one post to the book.

Although I've read the first four selections, in this post I want to address design. Someone along the way - either the publisher or Kincaid herself - put a lot of thought into how My Favorite Plant is presented to the reader. It is obvious that conscious design decisions were made at each step.

The book itself is small - about 4.74" by 6.25" - and it feels good in the hand. Normally, I don't pay any attention to the size of a book unless it's very large and cumbersome. In this case, though, each time I pick it up, I think, "This is just the right size for a book." It has the pleasing solidity of a hardcover along with the useful size of a paperback. Nice.

As we turn to graphics and design, we again see how much thought has been put into the physicality of My Favorite Plant. The color of the hard cover (inside the dust jacket) matches the color of the title on the dust jacket, which picks up some of the tones in the photo of the hibiscus flower. Inside the book, each chapter begins on a right-hand page. The left-hand page has a two-color design (which is different for each chapter) - grayscale with one highlight color. The highlight color is the same as the color of the hard cover.

Even the typeface used for the text contributes to the design. The font is called "Mrs. Eaves" and it is a design I've never seen used for text. The version of "Mrs. Eaves" used in My Favorite Plant has a little "fillip" - I don't know how else to describe it - that connects certain letters. This little extra "something" shows that this is not just "some book" but a book that has been put together carefully to please the eye.

Here's a sample:

(However, although I appreciate how the font contributes to the overall design of the book, I personally don't like it. I find it distracting - I trip over the words as I read.)

At this point you're asking, what is she getting at? In some ways, the design of My Favorite Flower is a reflection of garden design. One of the precepts of "good" garden design is to re-use a few plants and/or colors throughout the garden to unify it and allow the eye to find a rhythm. In the same way, My Favorite Flower has also used specific design elements to tie the book together. This is an anthology with 33 different authors with vastly different writing styles, and contains a mix of poetry and prose. This particular "garden" could get messy very quickly. However, through a deft use of design, the disparate elements of My Favorite Flower are brought together and given a rhythm.

Now, if I could only be so disciplined in my own garden!

Henry Mitchell's Opinions on Garden Design

Gardening is . . . a growing work of creation, endless in its changing elements. It is not a monument or achievement, but a sort of traveling, a kind of pilgrimage you might say, often a bit grubby and sweaty, though true pilgrims do not mind that. A garden is not a picture, but a language, which is of course the major art of life.

        Henry Mitchell, The Essential Earthman, p. 72
 

This winter I will be planning at least one - and possibly two - new garden areas. So, as I read The Essential Earthman, by Henry Mitchell, for the Garden Blogger's Book Club this month, I sought out Mitchell's advice on garden design.

Although the entire book is full of juicy tidbits and witty bon mots about designing a garden, most of the design-related advice is contained in two chapters: "Up and Down the Garden Path - Or, Designs for Gardening" and "Reflections on Gardening." As per usual, Mitchell has a lot of specific advice - some of which he admits to breaking himself - about designing the garden. Some of this advice I took to heart, some not so much - which would be just the way that Mitchell would want it.

One of Mitchell's primary themes is that the garden must first please the gardener: " . . . it is more important for the gardener to be enchanted than for critics to be pleased" (p. 69). Of course, this being Mitchell, he then goes on for several pages giving his opinion about what should or shouldn't be done in the garden (make it rectangular; don't copy any particular style, especially Japanese; walks should be straight; walks should be paved; the center should be open; avoid any show of wealth; don't use sculpture)

I sometimes think Mitchell states his opinion very strongly so that we - his readers - will have a strong reaction. My impression is that Mitchell would probably write his columns with a little gleam in his eye and a smile twitching at the corners of his lips, hoping to incite a bit of argument, not because he cared if the reader agreed with him, but because he hoped that the reader would put up a bit of a fight in the process of discovering his or her own opinions on the matter. 

Now, as a stubborn gardener, I have no intention of following all of Mitchell's specific advice. However, he has some important things to say about the big picture. One thing I found very helpful was his discussion of scale. He writes, "The scale of the garden should generally be much larger than seems right on paper. There should be fewer 'elements' of design than usual, and those few should be larger" (p. 70). Later in the same chapter he writes about planting an apple tree (or really, any tree), and reminds us that it is "roughly the size of a garage" (p. 80). This, for me, was an eye-opener. Somehow, it is easier for me to picture a garage - and it's bulk - in my mind's eye than an apple tree.

Mitchell advises that gardeners choose smaller plants than we think we want, because over time they will become bigger than we imagine. He says, "As a general rule, it works best to plant [a small tree] wherever you want a 'big' tree . . . . That is because 'small' trees like the crabs and dogwoods will reach the roof of a two-story house and are as big as you probably have in mind for an oak" (p. 76).

Along with determining the correct scale for your lot, Mitchell also recommends that any planning be done with the land itself in mind. "Garden plans on paper are all very well, but the lay of the land dictates almost everything. Therefore, no precise decisions should be made about the placement of important plants without an intimate knowledge of the land itself" (p. 78). It is Mitchell's argument that some of the best gardens are not those that are intricately planned, but those that evolve over the years as a gardener responds to the needs of his or her plants in relation to the gardener's specific little plot of land. The garden constantly evolves through trial and error.

That is not to say that Mitchell doesn't have ideas about what looks best in a garden. Throughout the book he advocates for symmetry, lines and borders. I get the feeling he wouldn't be too enchanted with a naturalistic garden. The symmetry, however, is there to contain the informal nature of plants: "Plan with severe formality, then plant informally within these formal bounds, and nature will tend to the rest, provided you correct your errors as you notice them" (p. 71).

In the end, though, each garden is a reflection of the person who makes it, and I think that's what Mitchell enjoys best about gardening. Although he delights in regaling readers with his opinions, I believe that he not-so-secretly reveled in the wide diversity and infinite variety of amateur gardens. As he says, "Your garden will reveal your self. Do not be terrified of that" (p. 71).

All quotations from The Essential Earthman by Henry Mitchell, First Indiana University Press paperback edition, 2003.

Book Time

As many in the garden blogging community know, Carol over at May Dreams Garden has organized the Garden Blogger's Book Club, which is reading Henry Mitchell's The Essential Earthman this month.

However, fewer people may know that Kathy of Cold Climate Gardening fame suggested using LibraryThing (LT) as one forum for discussing the book. She started a group called Gardening, to which some bloggers - and LibraryThing'ers - have posted.

In the past week, I've become hooked on LT. Over in the right-hand column of my blog you'll see a few random selections from my gardening library. To see my entire library (still a work in progress), click here. For anyone who is interested in books and has a perfectionist streak, I highly recommend checking out LT. A lifetime membership is only $25, which is a steal.

Garden Blogger's Book Club

Most people seem to know about this already, but I thought I'd pass the word along. Carol over at May Dreams Garden has volunteered to start The Garden Blogger's Book Club (most recent post). What a great way to keep the garden blogging community going through the winter months!

Right now I'm reading two garden-related books. The Botany of Desire by Michael Pollan and The Essential Earthman by Henry Mitchell. The Essential Earthman is a collection of Mitchell's newspaper columns, so is a great book for just before bed. The Botany of Desire is a bit more "scholarly" (although not at all onerously so) but very enjoyable.