Garden Rant

Makers of gardening gloves, listen up!

In response to a post asking how readers store their gloves, I got the smartest damn answer:  put all the right gloves in one bin and the left in another, grab one from each bin and go!

But here's how glove-makers could do the right-left sorting for us.  Why not make ALL the left gloves one color and ALL the right gloves a different color?  So these Atlas gloves, for example, could all be stored in the same bin and we could simply grab a pink and a blue and no worries!  Not the expensive gloves we use for dangerous jobs but the cheap, everyday gloves.  I would totally buy them by the dozen.

Sustainability and Beauty

10/08 issue of LAM, by Elizabeth Meyer:
"Contemporary theory and the practice of sustainable landscape design have little regard for the performance of appearance, particularly beauty."  Instead it's all about ecotechnologies like daylighting of streams.  "Sustainability has 3 legs, we are told:  ecology, social equity, and economy." HUH? (No aesthetics.)
Author will show that "immersive, aesthetic experience can lead to recognition, empathy, love, respect, and care for the environment." She believes a "concern for beauty and aesthetics is necessary for sustainable design if it is to have a significant cultural impact."

First, "every work of lA, whatever its scale, ought first of all be responsive to the whole range of interactive systems – soils and geology, climate and hydrology, vegetation and wildlife, and the human community." 

1992 Earth Summit in Rio de Janeiro Declaration on the Environment and Development contains 27 principles to guide sustainable development, and Principle 1 is "Human beings are at the center of sustainable development.  They are entitled to healthy and productive life in harmony with nature."

"Sustainability, as an ethic, is decidedly a middle-ground position between an egocentric and ecocentric worldview.  It straddles the human and nonhuman, attempting a hybridity that sees the interconnections between and across a homocentric and biocentric worldview."  Use ecotechnologies but also it should "be an aesthetic experience that changes people's environmental ethics.  And "from my perspective the latter is the most important reason to care about sustainable landscape design.  The apprehension and experience of beauty, especially new, challenging forms of beauty, can lead to attentiveness, empathy, love, respect, care, concern, and action on the part of those who visit and experience designed landscapes." "Not all change will or has to be based on education, guilt, or a sense of sacrifice.  "

Next: Architect Enzo Piano:

Wants an aesthetic of sustainability. 

Calls beauty an emotion.  Emotion of beauty is probably one of few big human emotions that can compete with the unfamous other, like power, money, victory, and fighting.

Known for cutting edge design that's also green.  Sustainable architecture.  Though super-successful, lives in modest home, has modest office, which he likes to be small enough that he knows all the employees by n ame.

Food meets Beauty at the Chicago Botanic Garden

Elizabeth and I are here in the Windy City (believe it!), garden-drooling and partying with the Gardenblogger Spring Flingers.  And exhausted already, speaking for this flinger.

Anyhoo, I was totally wowed by the Chicago Botanic Garden – who wouldn’t be? – especially its fruit and vegetable garden, and wondering why ALL botanic gardens don’t have displays like this.  These towers of violas and parsley rising over a bed of kale give you just a taste of the artistry employed here, and even the fruit trees and bramble vines are grown beautifully.  All pretty enough to pass muster with even the crankiest of neighbors.

Ranting from Chicago

Actually, we’ve got nothing but raves for the city, the organizers, the other garden bloggers who have gathered here (there are about 50 of us) and what we’ve seen so far: the Chicago Botanic Gardens (above) and the Lurie Garden.

Here are Susan, Carol/May Dreams Gardens and Mary Ann/Idaho Gardener. Susan is being just a little bit silly, but it’s still a nice picture. Check here to get the basic info about Garden Bloggers Spring Fling 09, and follow updates on Twitter at #CSF9.

Wicked Plants: Meet Them If You Dare.

I feel strongly that botanical gardens are about more than pretty scenery. A botanical garden is a living museum with a story to tell. I met the president of Brooklyn Botanic Garden a couple years ago and he was treated to a rant on this subject from me while we stood and looked around at the glorious Lily Pond Terrace Garden there at BBG.  I told him that I thought most people looked at plants in a garden and just saw undifferentiated greenery.  But plants are interesting because of their history. If you tell me that this is the plant that killed Socrates, and this is the plant that sickened members of Lewis and Clark's expedition–well now, you've got my attention!

I guess he understood what I was talking about, because two years later we've got this 'Wicked Plant' exhibit going on at BBG.

I'll be there on May 31 and July 25, and so will the artist, Briony Morrow-Cribbs.  Her art from the book will be on exhibit all summer, and she'll teach a drypoint etching workshop on July 25.  I'll give a talk on May 31, and we'll celebrate the opening of the art and plant exhibits together.

Get all the details here.  I think the events require pre-registration, so be sure to check that out.

The Truth About Jeff Gillman

When I was in Minneapolis, horticulturalist and author Jeff Gillman and I went to the garden center together.  That's an experience you want to have someday.  Here's what he has to say about the products on the shelf:

Lake Avenue Elementary Gets A Garden

I contributed the mulched paths and the nagging.  "Get offa the planting beds!  You're compacting the soil!"

A whole lotta schlepping of water -
Update on growing vegetables on the deck

With no source of water near my deck, I've done the sensible thing for many years: grown succulents in pots.  The sedums never needed watering, and that made for one happy gardener.  But then I got religion, circa 2009, set out to grow food instead, and needed a solution to the chore of frequent watering. 

Aha!  Self-watering planters from Gardeners Supply, I say.  The ones with the big reservoir at the bottom that holds enough water to last a week.  But I soon realized that sure, I could go out of town for a week but I still have to haul HUGE quantities of water to fill those reservoirs.  Trip after trip between the kitchen and the planters with heavy watering cans.  And being a true born-again veg-grower, I've also planted up a bunch of regular containers, and they need watering every day. 

THE SOLUTION?
So I'm looking for a miracle gadget, a 20-foot hose that will connect to the kitchen faucet and do all the watering with no schlepping.  I used to see them in crappy little gadget catalogs but now can't seem to find them.  And the deal-breaking detail about this scheme may be the spray-type nozzle it has to attach to.

Anybody have a solution?

Spireas Just Want To Be Free!

I'm with Susan. Flowering shrubs are just magical and too little used in American yards, maybe because their bloom period is limited. The answer to that, of course, is to plant a sequence of them, so something is always exploding in the yard.

When I first moved to the country about 18 years ago, I got an interesting job in politics in Albany. I had a long commute of an hour each way every day alone in my Dodge, only bearable because 45 minutes of it was over the most beautiful country roads imaginable. The houses were mostly built in that great Greek Revival boom period between 1820 and 1850, and many of the flowering shrubs were of an "old-fashioned" type not familiar to me. 

I used to love to tick off the weeks by what was blooming, and one of my favorite weeks was the bridal wreath spirea week, which followed the lilac week.

(There is some disagreement online as to whether bridal wreath spirea and spirea vanhouttei are the same plants or different. The Encyclopaedia Brittanica says the same.  My shrub reference, The Random House Book of Shrubs, is no help whatsoever, mentioning neither bridal wreath nor vanhouttei.)

My Albany commute convinced me that this spirea's highest use is as a hedge, preferably in the open countryside, where it looks like a photosynthesizing waterfall.

Second best is a single spirea allowed the room to behave like falling water.

What spirea really doesn't want is a haircut. But this is exactly how most of the landscapers in my part of the world use it today, trimmed up into blocks, and trimmed at the wrong time, too, so most of the flowers go with the trimmings.

For example, this awful-looking hedge is actually in a professionally planted and maintained yard.  Last year, these were blocks.  This year, they are just meaningless.

Here's an amateur attempt at control, a giant spirea hassock.

Bridal wreath spirea has silly little leaves and little disks of tiny white flowers.  The flowers turn an ugly brown as soon as they fade.  It's only charming if allowed to do its one trick, the fountain of blooms trick.  But then, it puts much better endowed shrubs to shame.

Wicked winner announcement

Thanks for playing, everyone! Loree/danger garden is the winner. Coincidentally, she just had a poisonous plant scare and had posted on it yesterday (linkie given). There were lots of other great stories, however, and I must say I am feeling very, very uneasy about what I may be allowing to infiltrate my neighbors' gardens. 

A beautiful place when it was kept up

More photos here

That phrase is in the title of a book I bought yesterday after visiting Linwood Gardens in Pavilion, New York. The illustrated memoir describes a century-old estate that has had its ups and downs—it survived a devastating fire and the Great Depression—and is now known for its magnificent tree peony collection. (You might have read about it in a recent issue of Horticulture.)

Linwood was built in 1900 as the summer estate of Buffalo lumber baron William H. Gratwick; its gardens were designed by Thomas Fox, who had completed projects in Boston and Brookline. The gardens are beautifully laid out—one area in particular is reminiscent of a Lutyens/Jekyll design at Hestercombe—but what makes Linwood important for gardeners today are its spectacular peonies. William H. Gratwick, Jr. started hybridizing tree peonies with the assistance of A. P. Saunders in 1935, later working with Nassos Daphnis. The hybridization stopped with Gratwick’s death, but the gorgeous results can still be seen every May in Pavilion.

This was my first visit to a place that I’d heard fleetingly mentioned over the past ten years. Photographers I know have attended workshops there, and during its heyday, it was a haven for poets, artists, and musicians looking for a rural retreat. William Carlos Williams, Charles Olson, Minor White, and Robert Creeley had all visited at one time or another; Williams seems to have been the resident poet. Somewhat like Sonnenberg Gardens further east, Linwood has a time capsule aura, as though it might crumble and fade into the rural landscape at any time. That, even more than the peonies, is what I find so fascinating.

Gauguin, a Daphnis hybrid

This weekend will be the last peony weekend, but Open Days are scheduled throughout the summer. It’s well worth a trip. Learn more here.

Ezra pound, a Gratwick introduction

Something Wicked this way comes

Copper etching from Wicked Plantsby Briony Morrow-Cribbs

It’s our giveaway of Amy’s new book, Wicked Plants.

But first, let me muse on the topic for a bit. I’ve read the book and reviewed it here, commenting at one point, “It’s not really about the plants. It’s about us.” Because even if a particular plant is poisonous, or harmful in some other way, our personal interactions or relationships with those plants are what create the undesirable result. I grow many of the plants Amy mentions—nicotiana, castor bean, aconite, datura, jessamine, hellebore, and more—but I don’t think of any of them as wicked, particularly.

Here’s my wicked plant list, and it’s a short one: Acer platanoides/Norway maple. While castor bean, nicotiana (tobacco plant), datura (angel’s trumpet), and the others exist as harmless characters in my patio garden—most of them are annuals, at that—the 3 trees installed on city property between the sidewalk and the road have had a disastrous effect on my front garden for the 10 years I’ve been gardening here.

First there’s the shade: when the trees leaf out, only a small amount of dappled morning light gets through. Then there are the roots: these spread throughout the space at surface level, making it nearly impossible to dig or plant anywhere without power tools. They also suck up much of the available moisture. The leaves of these trees, besides their occasional susceptibility to an unsightly blotching fungus (not life-threatening, sadly), do not decompose naturally. They must be raked and shredded. Lastly, these trees do not belong to me. I need permission from the city to remove or replace them, which, perversely, I am reluctant to do, as it would take a while to replicate their mature canopy. On a summer afternoon, it is still possible to forget about their shortcomings and enjoy looking up at the leaves rustling in the breeze.

So I’ve learned to live with my wicked plants. How about you? Do you have a plant whose dastardly effects are specific to your garden? Please tell about the horrors lurking in your garden in comments, and we’ll send a book to the teller of the most dreadful tale.

Comments can be left until 9 p.m. EST tonight.

Best Garden Center in Rhode Island

Farmers Daughter. Check it out. I was supposed to speak to the Master Gardeners but they made the big mistake of telling me that the coolest garden center ever was on the way. They had to call and drag me out of there!

(Amy)

Herbs! Finally

It was back in ’05 that I started lusting after an herb garden, thanks to the guy who taught herbs to my Master Gardener class.  In what was clearly the best lecture of the bunch, Jim Adams shared his passion in his usual low-key way and I got the bug.  He’d spent years as curator of the National Arboretum’s Herb Garden and had just started a much-needed make-over of the grounds at the British Embassy.  That’s Jim at the embassy when I visited him soon after he took over the gardens.

And below you see my brand new first-ever herbs looking happy on my deck.  On  the left are Greek oregano, fernleaf dill, and chives.  On the right, rosemary, cinnamon basil and lemon basil.  Not shown are the Cilantro and spearmint.

I think they’re all lovely!  I’m tasting them and getting suggestions about how to cook with them, dried or fresh, and I’d love to hear your ideas, too.

So why did it take me four years to give them a try?  Honestly, because I don’t cook, and to grow herbs is to impel the grower to use the damn stuff.  Quite a switch for an ornamentals-only, kitchen-averse kind of gardener.  I’m expecting nothing short of a grand transformation in my relationship with food.

Stickwork “Summer Palace” at the Morris Arboretum

One of the wonders of the Morris Arboretum (at the U. of Penn. in Philly) is their newly created "Summer Palace" sculpture by North Carolina artist Patrick Dougherty.  Made entirely of natural materials locally acquired and no nails or hardware of any kind, this three-story Russian-themed structure was built with the help of 75 volunteers over the course of 19 days this spring, is and expected to last two years.

Aside from its obvious aesthetic appeal, I love that the design came to Dougherty spontaneously as it evolved, and that all those volunteers had the fun of being part of its creation.  The whole process is chronicled on a blog, Patrick Dougherty at the Morris Arboretum.

The Morris has quite a collection of more permanent scultpure, as you see on this page.  While the choice of sculpture pieces for gardens is often controversial, I'm always happy to see the effort being made because once in a while the results are as spectacular as this. 

Multiply dog-eared Fine Gardening says “Renew me!”

Like so many Americans, I'm tightening my belt, cutting expenses where I can, and wondering if I really need all the magazines I subscribe to.  Garden Design is surely a good candidate for dropping, since it takes me 5-10 minutes to "read" it, but unfortunately I fell for their deceptive renewal campaign and am paid up through about 2016.  No lie.

And it won't be Fine Gardening, either, especially since I noticed this about my copy of the May issue: 6 dog-ears marking stories I want to come back to and read in full.  Like:

• Stunning photos attracting me to read "Who says a kitchen garden can't be beautiful"?
• "Sweetly scented annuals."
• "Pruning for conifers" I couldn't possibly resist.  Essential for a conifer-lover like me, still scared to death to ruin them with my pruners.
• "Mix it up with coleus."  I've lusted after coleus for years; time to give them a serious try.
• Stephanie Cohen's plant pick – 'Bunny Blue' carex, which is touted as a good pachysandra substitute.  Stephanie knows her plants and looks adorable in her sun hat.
• "Making sense of specialty fertilizer" is something I need to be able to do.

Okay, so maybe I'll cut back on – well, probably nothing gardening-related after all.    

Common-sense veg-growing in Oprah’s magazine

Pick up the June issue and you'll notice a familiar face – our own Michele O urging us to "forget the myth of the $20 tomato".  Her practical and passionate approach is laid out in these simple steps:

1.  Pick a spot, any sunny spot, for your garden.
2.  Dig once.
3.  Be bold and panoramic in your planting.
4.  Water, weed, and pluck the fruits of your labor.

And just one more quote:  "Of course, there are many 400-page guides on the bookstore shelves that make it sound as if a vegetable garden has to be managed with the same precision as a graded college chemistry lab.  Ignore them."

But wait, what about this blurb about Michele from the Contributor page: "Owens is writing a book, Eat the Yard, (Rodale), to be published in 2010."  I think we can safely assume that Eat the Yard will be anything BUT another 400-page guide detailing with anal-compulsive precision what MUST be done.  I read the book proposal and here's a prediction:  It'll be a great read. 

Snails are fine in their place,

 but not here. 

High on Chanticleer Garden

This is one of dozens of to-die-for spots I found at Pennsylvania's Chanticleer Garden this week.  This lush "pleasure garden" proves, as all my favorite gardens do, that shrubs make the garden. Those mid-range mounds of chartreuse?  Spireas.  Awesome with purples.   The garden's one-of-a-kind hardscape also helps. 

More coming soon from my trip to Chanticleer, the Scott Arboretum and the Morris Arboretum.  In a word?  OMIGOD.

Rant on the Road: Greeting the GreenGirls

On a recent trip to Minneapolis I met Star Tribune writers and bloggers Jamie Chismar and Connie Nelson for breakfast (Robyn, sorry I missed you!) and they send these greetings to the Friends of Rant:

Check out their blog Greengirls here, and follow them on Twitter here.