http://statebystategardening.com/carolinas/blog_03_summary/ en gardeneditor@gmail.com Copyright 2012 2012-05-08T22:47:17+00:00 http://statebystategardening.com/state.php/carolinas/blog_03/the_toad_abode/ http://statebystategardening.com/state.php/carolinas/blog_03/the_toad_abode/ One of the great things about kids is that they are not just little clones of me walking around. The are little beings with their own unique personalities. And because of that, my garden is much more interesting and eclectic than it probably would be if I was doing it on my own. Case in point: the toad abode. If you subscribe to our magazine you will see that in our June issue we are running an article about creating a frog-friendly garden. And I knew it was on the editorial calendar, read and edited the story, and even proofed the pages in layout, and it never once dawned on me to create a toad abode. Then my daughter brought home a flier for Earth Day, and it had cute instructions (and a beautiful picture) on creating your own toad abode. So you know what? We did it. I dug the hole for the pot, Carter brought some dead leaves and Caroline collected the moss. (“I didn’t take away any fairies, Mom,” she told me. That’s when I remembered I had told her one time that fairies build their houses in moss.) I love it. It makes a great addition to our yard. And hopefully a little toad will eventually take up residence. 2012-05-08T21:47:17+00:00 http://statebystategardening.com/state.php/carolinas/blog_03/seeing_plans_come_to_fruition/ http://statebystategardening.com/state.php/carolinas/blog_03/seeing_plans_come_to_fruition/ I am a person who likes to make lists. I start every day with a list of things I need to get done that day. And while many days not everything gets crossed off, I always try to put something on there that I know I will be able to cross off. Something easy, or something I know I will do no matter what, like “water the plants.” Part of this is because I like to plan, and I like things to work out according to plan. You may say that’s not easy with gardening. And it’s not always, squash plants get powdery mildew, roses get black spot, and those freesia bulbs I planted last fall never grew more than an inch tall this spring. But for some reason that stuff doesn’t bother me. All in all, things go the way you expect them to in the garden. And as a mother of two young children, whose spontaneous little lives mean much of my world doesn’t go according to plan, it’s nice to have a constant in the garden. So a few weeks ago, after my husband so gallantly tilled up the garden, I made a plan. Here it is, for all to see my horrible handwriting. “Is this to some sort of scale?” my husband cautiously asked. “No,” I replied. “Then how do you know you’ll have space?” “I know because it worked out last year. And it did. I purchased seedlings and seeds from our local hardware store last week, waited until Saturday morning to plant anything because my first grader wanted to help so bad (thanks to Grandma buying both children new red shovels) and got everything in the ground and mulched before the rain started Saturday afternoon. Just according to plan. (The kids even got disinterested and went to swing after planting the three rows of corn and a couple of hills of squash and cucumber, again, just as I had planned!) Now we’re waiting, just like last spring. I’ve found myself looking out each morning to make sure the entire garden wasn’t grazed by deer, and so far we’re in luck. And while a child might throw up in the middle of the night, making our plans for a day trip the next day change, or the school will send home notice of a PTA meeting that I somehow overlooked, I will roll with the punches life throws at me a little better, because I know there’s something going according to plan. It’s out there, a few feet from the house, where the seeds I planted will most definitely grow into plants, and whether I get 3 tomatoes or 30, I know I will get some. And they will be wonderful! 2012-04-23T16:56:09+00:00 http://statebystategardening.com/state.php/carolinas/blog_03/gardening_confessions/ http://statebystategardening.com/state.php/carolinas/blog_03/gardening_confessions/ It’s a popular trend on Mommy blogs to have “true confessions.” That means writing about things like letting your child cry while you step outside to sit in peace and quiet on the porch for a minute, or throwing away the dirty underwear rather than washing it out after one too many accidents.  As a mom of young children, I know why those blogs are popular. It’s because we all do things we’re somewhat ashamed of, and it makes us feel better to know others are out there doing them too, and their kids are okay. So maybe the same is true in the garden world. I’m here to try it out. Today’s blog is my first “garden confessions.” I have to confess that I’m horrible at remembering the names of plants. Absolutely horrible.  I’ve depended on my grandmother for years to help me know what’s what in the garden, but even then I don’t always remember. The problem is painfully and shamefully obvious to me this year. I’ve been working with Carolina Gardener in some form or fashion for many years, but having this blog and actually documenting my own personal gardening trials and tribulations has made me a little more attune to what I’m doing. So this spring, this wonderful bush has blessed me with a fire of hot-pink flowers. I had no idea it would bloom like this! Maybe it said that on the plant tag when I bought it. But that was a couple of falls ago, from a sale rack at a big box store, when it was just a twig. Since then it survived being laid on by my dog for a complete summer and not only having it’s growth stunted, but having it grow in a somewhat haphazard manner once it got going again. Maybe that’s why it didn’t bloom like this last spring. So now I’d like to know what it is. And I have to admit, I probably will forget again.   Here's a close up: This red bush isn’t the only plant in my garden that I don’t know it’s name. There are quite a few perennials that pop up each year that I absolutely love, but I couldn’t tell you what they are. And there are a few that I pride myself on having learned their names, thanks to great articles and photos in Carolina Gardener and paying attention on visits to public gardens. Unfortunately it’s not just plant names I forget. Apparently I also forget what I’ve planted in the fall. This is a clump of something that’s coming up right now, and I have absolutely no memory of planting it. Maybe it’s some seeds of something I threw out? Maybe it’s another on-sale perennial I rescued at the very end of the fall last year? I’m watching it anxiously, waiting for it to get big enough to try to identify, and hoping that in the meantime it can survive without thinning. I don’t want to pull any of it up until I know what it is! The fun of these blogging confessions is that, just like confessing sins, it always feels a little better just to get the worry off your chest. Now I’ve admitted in public I don’t know what this bush is. Lightening didn’t strike me down, and it doesn’t mean I’m a bad gardener because I don’t know it’s name. Just like the mommy bloggers, the important thing is that even if we’re throwing away and buying new underwear for the potty-training preschooler instead of washing it out, through it all we love our kids with all our heart. And just because I might not know what these two plants are doesn’t mean I don’t love them. Now, off to enjoy these fleeting blooms before they fall off!   2012-03-26T18:04:36+00:00 http://statebystategardening.com/state.php/carolinas/blog_03/catalogs_spring_planting_and_trying_something_new/ http://statebystategardening.com/state.php/carolinas/blog_03/catalogs_spring_planting_and_trying_something_new/ I’ve never been that excited about seed catalogs. My grandmother, who has been a flower gardener pretty much all her life, spends hours looking through them. Even though she only had a very small garden her last years in her house, she always ordered something new and exciting from a seed catalog in the early spring. At one point when I lived with, her I got to join in the excitement when the little boxes came. But for some reason, when I happened to get a bulb catalog in the mail, I glanced at it and threw it away. Not this year! Maybe it’s because Nan Chase wrote such a great article about seed catalogs for our February issue. If you haven’t read it, or don’t subscribe, find yourself a copy and read that article. She did a great job of showing just how valuable these published works of art can be, not only for getting some pretty cheap seeds but also for learning a little about how to care for your plants as well as the history and culture of the things that make up our garden. But I also think it’s just the fact that I’m settled into a more permanent place than I ever was during my young adult years, couple with the fact that last year I had my first “real” vegetable garden. So when the Gurney’s catalog came offering $25 off your total, even if you order less than $25 (meaning your order is free!) I thought, “I just might take them up on that.” Then the Comstock catalog came, and I spent my Sunday morning looking through that one, dreaming about big, pink tomatoes and a rainbow of zinnias this summer. I dog-eared quite a few pages in that catalog too. Gardening may be a lot about tradition and doing the same things over and over again, like pulling weeds, watering plants and digging up the soil each spring. But it’s also about trying something new. Last summer my “new” was planting a vegetable garden and trying my hand at freezing some of my harvest. This fall I planted something completely new to me – a few freesia bulbs. And this winter I’m trying something else new, I’m ordering some things from the seed catalogs. Stay tuned to this blog, you’ll be the first to see how the new venture works out! 2012-02-06T19:37:27+00:00 http://statebystategardening.com/state.php/carolinas/blog_03/mother_nature_and_her_mixed_messages/ http://statebystategardening.com/state.php/carolinas/blog_03/mother_nature_and_her_mixed_messages/ There have been many years when I've seen forsythia blooming in early February or even late January. But the beginning of December? Yes, I saw forsythia blooming just around the corner from my house. Not a lot of bloms, but it's sprinkled throughout the bush. That didn't bother me too bad until I came home one day and saw the site pictured on the left. It might be hard to tell from the picture, but this is a picture of the beginnings of freesia peeking up from the ground. I fell in love with the flowers when I studied in England during college, and saw the bulbs at Lowes this fall. I've never grown it, and in fact never known anyone who grew it. But the bulbs were so tempting that I bought a pack to experiment with. I planted them in October, and didn't think about them again. Until I came home the other day and saw them starting to sprout already. At first I panicked. What will happen? Sure, it's been a rather mild winter so far, but I know we're in for some cold days before spring arrives. Will those little shoots completely freeze? Will it mean I won't have any freesia flowers to cut next spring like I'd dreamed of? Will it harm the bulbs for good, or only just for this year, if it harms them at all? I worried a lot about it. But only for a few minutes. Then I remembered the resiliancy of plants and many things in nature. Sure, we've had some rather frigid winters the past two years, with lots of snow days for the kids and daffodils actually waiting to come up and bloom until March. But it's not always that way. The first three years we lived in Elkin we didn't even see snow. And sometimes there's a warm spell in February that entices all of the Bradford pears to bloom, only to be struck by cold one more time. Yet they somehow survive to bloom again the next year. So I've decided to just enjoy the mild winter. It's afforded me the opportunity to play outside with the kids and the dog more than usual for this time of year. And if it means I have to wait another year for freesia, so be it. 2011-12-20T14:01:41+00:00 http://statebystategardening.com/state.php/carolinas/blog_03/a_blessing_or_a_curse/ http://statebystategardening.com/state.php/carolinas/blog_03/a_blessing_or_a_curse/ Yesterday I pulled up all of the dried-out marigold plants from the border of my vegetable garden. As I did it, millions upon millions of seeds and seedpods fell into the upturned soil. And now I’m wondering, will I be cursed with marigolds next summer? This spring, I planted two small seed packs around the edge of my garden, as a feeble attempt at keeping pests away. They were probably one of the best things that grew in my garden. They ended up being over a foot tall with tons of beautiful yellow and gold blooms, providing a sunny welcome from late June well into October. I also thought they did a great job keeping the pests away, but then last week my friend told me the pests just hadn’t found my garden yet, because it’s new. I had decided a while back not to plant marigolds within the garden next year anyway. They just took up too much valuable real estate. I figured putting them along the edge, outside the border of the garden, might work just as well. But now I’m wondering if I’ll have marigolds in the garden anyway, on the edges and probably invading into the middle of the garden space. Of course, I’ve never had much luck with anything reseeding itself, so maybe I’m worried for nothing. But with my luck, this would be the one time when I do get “volunteer” plants. The time I don’t want them! 2011-11-15T16:31:01+00:00 http://statebystategardening.com/state.php/carolinas/blog_03/to_everything_there_is_a_season/ http://statebystategardening.com/state.php/carolinas/blog_03/to_everything_there_is_a_season/ We had a death in the family last week, which meant my family here in North Carolina traveled to Ohio to be with the extended family and be there for the funeral. When I left home, my geraniums in pots on the porch had robust green leaves and a few bright red flowers, the hanging basket of lantana was still going strong and out in the vegetable garden the peppers were still perky. We were gone for six days. Not that long in the big scheme of things, but during the time we were gone we experienced our first hard frost here in Elkin. So when I drove back up my driveway I wasn't welcomed by my sunny lantana. Instead,the geraniums had been nipped and the leaves are now yellow, the lantana is brown and crisp and the pepper plants out in the garden are very droopy. Even the jack o’lanterns we had carved that looked so festive were filled with mold and had lost their shapes.  It was all just a very visible and tangible reminder of the experience we had just lived through. Living things don’t last forever. Whether it’s people, plants or pets, everything eventually makes it to the end of its life cycle and dies. I can’t help but be a little sad when the beauty of the spring and summer fades away. I love the bright colors of fall and the stark beauty of winter, but losing all those blooms that I fostered and loved for so many weeks can be sad in its own way. The wonderful thing is that blooms will come back. Spring will come again and the bulbs will shoot up, I can buy another Gerber daisy, and the winter pansies will be replaced with something summery again in the porch pots. Unfortunately I can’t do that with my sister-in-law. My youngest son asked why we couldn’t open her eyes and wake her up, and I marveled at his innocence and trust in life. It would be wonderful if we could just wake up our loved ones like the spring wakes up the flowers every year. But since we can’t, I did what every good gardener does. When we looked through the many nice gifts of flowers and plants after the funeral, I picked out one of the planters to bring home. I already have plans to separate the plants out into a few pots, putting some in our living room and one in my daughter’s room. And after the cut flowers have faded and the tears are mostly gone, we’ll still have something living to remember Angi by. A little living testament to the sweet life that was cut short too soon. 2011-11-04T17:56:15+00:00 http://statebystategardening.com/state.php/carolinas/blog_03/dreaming_of_spinach/ http://statebystategardening.com/state.php/carolinas/blog_03/dreaming_of_spinach/ I planted spinach a few days ago. Well, more than a few days ago, since as you can see some things are sprouting. So far the radishes and lettuce are coming up with a vengeance. But it’s the spinach that I really want. I didn’t get much this spring. I think I planted it too late, and it got hot and just didn’t thrive. So I’m trying again in the cool season. I’m dreaming of spinach salads, flounder Florentine, and maybe even trying my hand at creamed spinach. But in reality, I may only get enough to garnish a sandwich. I’ve never planted a fall-season vegetable garden before. I’ve never even planted a cover crop. Usually after I pull up my few tomato plants and spent bean bushes, I’m done until spring. But since I started this “better” garden plot, I’ve decided to get a little more serious about the gardening. So it’s time to see what happens when you plant seeds in the fall. I’m looking forward to the experiment!   2011-10-20T18:20:30+00:00 http://statebystategardening.com/state.php/carolinas/blog_03/hello_goodbye/ http://statebystategardening.com/state.php/carolinas/blog_03/hello_goodbye/ I’m a pretty big fan of the Beatles, but “Hello Goodbye” was never one of my favorite songs until this year. It seems like I’ve been singing it in my head a lot lately. It all started when my 3-year-old son wanted to do something and I said no. He replied, “I say yes.” So I said, “I said no.” That went on for a few rounds until I started laughing, because I realized we were the lyrics of “Hello Goodbye” come to life, so on the way to preschool I introduced him to the Beatles. Now I’m singing it again, as I say goodbye to my summer garden.                                                           I haven’t posted a blog in a few weeks, and to be perfectly honest, I haven’t been in the garden in a few weeks. The two pictures above tell why. School started back, and we got a new puppy. Thankfully the puppy was already six months old when she came to our house, so we don’t have a lot of the normal puppy issues. But still, there’s been a lot of taking care of dogs (now we have two) and making sure homework gets done and the piano gets practiced. Not to mention packing lunches and getting kids ready for school on time. I’ve been planning to plant a new crop of fall vegetables in my garden, probably mostly spinach and lettuce, but I realized I better hurry up or I’ll be too late. And before I do that I have to pull up the rest of the summer vegetables and the big crop of grass that decided to take over the vacant spots that had once been beans, cucumbers and squash. But before I get to that, I have one more birthday party to get through (both of my kids have September birthdays) and a few more chores around the house. Then I’ll finally have time to get back into the garden again.Luckily by then the weather will be cooler and I’ll be looking for a good excuse to go outside. So far this summer I’ve been lucky enough to integrate a small-ish vegetable garden into my busy family life. The past few weeks, life seems to have gotten in the way of the garden. Thank goodness the flowers continue to bloom, the tomatoes continue to ripen and the marigolds continue to greet me with their sunny goldness even when I don’t have a minute to spare to go out and coddle them. They know their time will come again. And that's the joy of gardening for me, it's there whenever, with no pressure and no deadlines. Except maybe the upcoming frost!   .   2011-09-12T00:10:11+00:00 http://statebystategardening.com/state.php/carolinas/blog_03/late-summer_doldrums/ http://statebystategardening.com/state.php/carolinas/blog_03/late-summer_doldrums/ The temperatures are in the mid-90s. The humidity is so high that my daughter walks outside and claims it’s misting, even though there’s not a cloud in the sky. Something has completely destroyed my little patch of beans, and grass has quickly taken over the watermelons and cantaloupes. I stand at my garden, sweating just picking the cherry tomatoes, and don’t even feel like tackling the grass. Why am I so complainy? In the big scheme of things, I should be very proud of my vegetable garden. This spring when I planted the little seedlings and seeds, I worried every night that it would be completely destroyed by deer, or that it wouldn’t grow at all for some reason. But it did grow! We’ve eaten lots of fresh vegetables. And I’m still harvesting tomatoes and cucumbers every day, a squash once in a while, and am looking forward to quite a few bell peppers that are thumb-size right now. The thing is, it doesn’t look pretty anymore. The best looking part of my garden is the border of marigolds I planted to keep out bugs. And even with that bright part, the sad-looking skeletons of bean plants, drooping tomato stems and yellowing squash leaves, combined with the almost unbearable weather, don’t do much for motivating me to keep these summer vegetables going.  I’ve found myself already dreaming of the cooler temperatures of fall, and planning my strategy of cleaning out these plants and replacing them with lots of lettuce, spinach and maybe even a few collards. Then I feel guilty, like I’m betraying my strong little squash and cucumber plants that have worked so hard all summer.  So I have a plan to beat these summer doldrums, and it’s not going to be just bide my time until fall. Once this heat wave breaks and the temperatures go back into the 80s, I’ll pull out those beans, hoe the grass out of the watermelons and stake up the pepper plants to help them out some.  Just because things aren’t pretty and new-looking anymore doesn’t mean they’re not working hard. With a little love and care, our summer gardens, decade-old lawnmowers, favorite penny loafers and well-worn garden bench can be just as good as new. It’s a good lesson for this time of summer, and this economy, when we’re all trying to pinch a few pennies here and there. 2011-08-10T15:17:42+00:00