George's Current Ramblings and Readlings

Putter Time

July 16th, 2024

   It might be hot and dry, but we’re now nestled in that easy-going time frame of the gardening year that I like to call “putter time.”

   It’s a period of relative calm wedged between the two seasons of soil-jockey fury – spring (when it seems like everything needs to be done all at once), and fall (when picking up after this season and setting the stage for next join forces).

   I like putter time because there’s no pressure to work through a lengthy to-do list before bad weather hits, ideal timing runs out, or the whole thing threatens to cross the line from “busy” to “overwhelming.”

   Summer is a time when the pace is more meander than sprint and when there’s leeway to stop, sniff, ponder, enjoy the blooms, and basically put off until tomorrow any noticed jobs… if you feel like it.

   Summer’s jobs are a lot lighter than spring or fall, too.

   Especially in May, the work includes heavy-duty mulching, exhaustive trimming and pruning of bushes and hedges, and the back-bending jobs of cutting spring-bulb foliage followed by planting and transplanting annuals, perennials, and shrubs.

   Come fall, it’s time to yank and haul the season’s spent plants, move those falling leaves where they’re piling up, and whip the lawn back into shape (which one year for me meant replacing the whole drought-killed front yard).

   But in summer, the jobs are mostly lighter, easier things like watering, snipping a few wayward branches here and there, yelling at the deer and rabbits, and cutting the grass (or not, when it’s so dry that the grass is turning brown).

   My summertime putter days largely consist of patrolling the yard with a five-gallon bucket in hand, ready to pluck out any weeds just getting started. I look at it as “harvesting compost.”

   With this kind of regular, slow-paced policing, I have virtually no weed trouble. Colonies never have a chance to develop, and I deny all weeds the chance to flower, set seed, and create tomorrow’s outbreaks.

   My weeding “tools” are mainly my index finger and thumb rather than hoes or a tank sprayer of Roundup.

   It’s only when ground is left bare and ignored that weeds have a chance to turn into the botanical monsters that they can be. I’ve had to tackle that, too (after inheriting others’ yards), and I can tell you that leisurely but regular putter patrols are a whole lot better way to go.

   My summer putter days also sometimes involve a little fertilizing of the veggies and potted flowers, some dead-heading and neatening of flowers, and occasionally some action to head off a particularly damaging scenario involving bugs or disease.

   But the thing I like most about summer putter days is that they give me an excuse to get out there and really enjoy the gardens up close and personal. They give the illusion that I’m out there “working” when I’m really just soaking up the setting.

Listen to What Your Gardens Are Telling You

July 2nd, 2024

   Doctors can ask patients where and how it hurts to zero in on a diagnosis.

These astilbe plants are trying to tell that they’re not happy in full sun and dry soil.

   It’s not as straightforward in the landscape when you’re trying to figure out what’s going wrong with your plants.

   Although plants can’t talk or point, they are good at giving us clues. We just have to pay attention enough and be astute enough to interpret what they’re trying to tell us.

   This isn’t always easy, but the effort is worthwhile because it can prevent dead plants, keep you from wasting time and money on misguided treatments, and maybe most important, give information to help with future plant selection.

   Unless you catch a groundhog waddling away with your cabbage between his teeth, you’re usually going to have to rely on the garden’s two main ways of communicating stress – signs and symptoms.

   Signs are direct clues – things you can see that are likely causing trouble. That would include things like pepper-sized leaf fungi viewed under a hand lens, little brown “pellets” (rabbit poop) next to the chewed-off petunias, or leaves that have been chewed between the veins (caterpillars or beetles).

   Symptoms are tougher. These are how plants have reacted to a problem, which is hard because a particular symptom can be caused by several different issues.

   Wilting, for example, can happen because of lack of soil moisture, rotted roots due to too much water, animals chewing the roots, disease, intense heat, or over-fertilizing, to name a few.

Survivor Plants

June 18th, 2024

   Way back when I was a Cub Scout leader, we started the year by having the boys discuss what the pack’s rules should be.

These inkberry hollies aren’t doing a very good job of surviving in this challenging commercial seting.

   The 8-year-olds’ first suggestion was, “No killing.”

   I wouldn’t have thought of that, but it was definitely a good place to start.

   That also happens to be a good place to start with your planting/replanting plans.

   Unfortunately, we kill way too many plants.

   A lot of it can be traced to a few key troubles, such as atrocious “soil,” erratic and extreme weather, bugs, plant diseases, and my most frustrating gardening challenge, animal damage (especially deer).

   Yes, a lot can go wrong.

   That’s why I’m a disciple of the Mayhem School of Landscape Design. Its leading principle is to first select tough plants that are likely to survive abuse, then worry about color, texture, forms, bloom times, etc.

   After all, a dead plant is a bad plant (except possibly for a Harry Lauder’s walking stick or a Japanese maple painted silver in an Ikebana arrangement).

   No matter how cool the plant looks in the pot or how common it is in garden centers, if it has a good chance of croaking, it’s not a great choice.

   Garden long enough and you’ll sort out the survivors from the wimps.

Pruning in Artful Ways

June 4th, 2024

   June is one of the busiest months of the year for pruning.

Pruning to many people means shearing the shrubs into “green meatballs.”

   It’s prime time to size-control the evergreens, trim the hedges, and thin out and cut back the flowering shrubs that bloomed earlier in spring, such as azaleas, lilacs, weigelas, and deutzias.

   For most people, pruning means getting out the power shears (or chainsaw) and “whacking back the bushes” into balls and boxes.

   While the resulting “green meatballs” might be quick to do and the norm in American landscaping, they’re not the ideal way to prune woody plants.

   All of that tight trimming encourages dense growth that shuts off light to all but the outer leaves and slows the drying of leaves in humid or rainy weather, which translates into more incidence of disease.

   Healthier and far more interesting pruning techniques are possible.

   Some of them can turn a plain green bush into a work of art, and most of them take just a little know-how and willingness to try something different.

   Below are a few novel ways to cut in the landscape. If any intrigue you, please do more research because not all plants appreciate (or survive) all of the following techniques.

This yew has been thinned and shaped, not sheared into a ball.

Thinning

   Rather than whacking everything back around the perimeter, this type of pruning is done selectively, cut by cut, with hand pruners for the small branches and loppers for the bigger ones.

   The idea is to open the plant so light gets inside the canopy and encourages growth farther in. In sheared bushes, look inside, and you’ll notice how the inner branches are bare, with almost all of the growth occurring at the tips.

   Opening the canopy also improves air flow, which is one of the best natural disease-fighting strategies.

   Thinning a tree or shrub is best done early in the season before the plant leafs out. You can see the branch structure much better then. But June is also fine for plants other than those that are in bloom or yet to bloom this season.

   First, look for crossing branches and cut out one of the competitors back to where it emerges from the trunk or a bigger branch.

   Then look for areas where several twigs or branches are coming out from the same general area. Identify the one that’s growing in the best direction and remove the rest.

   Third, look for branches that are growing inward. Remove those, too, or cut them back to just above a bud or branch that’s facing outward to re-direct the growth.

   Finally, stand back and look to see if the plant is evenly balanced and open evenly throughout. If not, remove or shorten branches until you’re happy.

   This type of pruning leaves you with more natural-looking plants, but it can be done with formal hedging, too. Thin first, then trim after you’ve opened each plant a bit.

This apple tree has been espaliered into three levels of “arms.”

Espalier

   Here’s a space-saving technique that looks a lot harder to pull off than it really is.

   Espaliering (es-PAH-lee-aying) trains plants to grow vertically and nearly flat upwards by 1.) tying selected young branches to a frame, 2.) pruning off everything that wants to grow out or back, and 3.) shortening the remaining branches each year to stay within the chosen pattern.

   The classic form is a double or triple cordon in which one branch is trained coming out to the right, one opposite it coming out to the left, and then one or two more layers a foot or two above that first set of “arms.”

   By tying branches to pre-installed frames, you can make those branches go up and out most any way you’d like – into candelabras, fans, or crisscrossing “Belgian fences.”

   This is a great way to dress up a wall or fence where you don’t have a lot of bed width to work with. Plus, it really makes it look like you know what you’re doing.

The Eight Most Important Things I’ve Learned About Growing Vegetables

May 21st, 2024

   I’ve been growing home-garden vegetables in Pennsylvania for 44 years now, which I suppose qualifies me as a seasoned, old, compost-stained soil jockey.

Good soil and raised beds are the two most important pathways to veggie-gardening success.

   Although I’ll admit I still can’t out-smart a groundhog or out-maneuver a deer, I have learned to circumvent many of the other obstacles that stand in the way of picking a peck of edible peppers.

   As we embark on a new growing season, I thought it might be helpful to pass along some of what I’ve learned before limping off to the old folks’ home.

   Here are the eight lessons I think are most important…

Success starts (or ends) in the soil.

   Hardly anyone has good soil, so success isn’t likely by just stripping off the grass and planting into virgin ground.

   Vegetables are mostly annual plants that start from scratch each year and need loose, well drained soil for those fledgling roots to graduate into dinner. Our typical array of shale, red/yellow clay, and “builder’s soil” (subsoil topped with six inches of clay and shale following home-builder grading) doesn’t supply that.

   To have a fighting chance, vegetables need deeply loosened soil (ideally a foot down) that’s thoroughly blended in a three-to-one or four-to-one ration with compost, rotted leaves, mushroom soil, aged cow manure, and/or similar organic matter.

   Also important up-front is investing in a do-it-yourself, mail-in Penn State soil test kit to get a read on your soil’s pH (acidity level) and nutrition breakdown to determine what fertilizer and other amendments might be needed (if any).

   Penn State soil test kits are available for $10 at county Extension offices, most garden centers, or online at Penn State’s soil-testing lab.

Raised beds are the way to go.

   An even better way to deal with the aforementioned lousy soil situation is to construct planting boxes and fill them with compost-rich soil mixes, bypassing what’s underneath altogether.

   Figure on at least six inches of depth (10 or 12 inches is better) if you’re going right on top the ground. A layer of cardboard, sections of newspaper, or similar decayable lining underneath will help kill off existing turfgrass and/or weeds.

   It’s also fine to create a “hybrid” bed by both digging into the soil and then adding four to six additional raised inches of “good stuff.” Just be sure to mix everything together rather than creating distinctive layers.

   Most people build boxes to contain the soil (stone, blocks, brick, recycled plastic timbers, or rot-resistant boards), but you can just mound up the beds without any edging.

   Four-foot bed widths are ideal to let you reach in from both sides without ever having to walk on and compact your loose, fluffy soil.

Read George’s PennLive column on how to build and fill raised-bed gardens

Plant varieties make a huge difference.

   Some particular varieties of each crop yield better, taste better, or fight off bugs and disease better than others. It pays to invest in the best performers to give yourself a genetic advantage right off the bat. Cheapie seeds are usually inferior.

   Research varieties, compare notes with friends, or experiment until you find the ones that do best in your garden.

   Or check out the list of my favorite all-time specific varieties for 24 different vegetables.