Very philosophical - beats actually working. But while spending an hour moving along the steep front bank, I had to make many decisions about what to pull and and what to leave in place. I also have a middle course for the many things I am ambivalent about - I clip them down without pulling them out. My thinking is to give other things a chance to compete.
Some things are purely evil and come out without a second thought. There are fewer of these than you might think, at least in my yard. English Ivy. Raspberries. Poison Ivy - except it can't be pulled, must be sprayed, so its a trip back oft postponed. Honeysuckle. Lambs quarters. Sweet Clover. Dandelions.
But many more things have at least something to recommend them, and I pause and reflect before yanking. I often make different decisions about them in different places or times. My decisions may appear whimiscal to an outsider, but being who I am I'm constantly looking for the decision criteria behind what I'm doing.
Native versus non-native. Doug Tallamy (Bringing Nature Home) has the most succinct explanation about why natives are always better than non-natives: they are the foundation of the wildlife food chain. No natives, no insects, no birds, no squirrels or raccoons. It is a fact. Exotics "untroubled by insects" are better than concrete from a cover and temperature-moderating sense, but provide little or no food for insects. I have set aside the steep bank for natives, but there are some legacy plants from before my conversion, and I have never gone nuclear on them.
Blooming versus boring. Non-natives that are interesting and beautiful have a chance with me. I've gone out and bought them, though I think of those parts of the garden as my exotic "zoo" where I need to keep them caged.
So what filled a whole big brown bag full of weeds? Raspberries (use gloves!) and only one sprout of english ivy. Much vinca (that I have posted about before) - it had spread much further below and around the ash tree than I had realized). I pulled a lot of wild oats (Chasmathium latifolia) - its a native grass that seeds and sprouts prolifically. I planted it, and I want some of it, but I try to keep it within some bounds. This is one where I'm looking to allow other plants to compete successfully - there were a whole bunch of smaller wildflower plants looking pitiful around the roots of the grass. I planted some liriope back when I first got here, and it keeps spreading upwards. Eventuallly I will nuke it, but it will be a big task so I'm putting it off for now.
I have many oaks and a few hickories growing on the steep slope. It is already crowded with trees, so I pull willow oaks without a second thought (many in the neighborhood) red oaks go away too, white oaks I cut back or pull, but with some ambivalence.
A couple other things I've planted or encouraged have proliferated too much. In particular, the blue heart-leaved aster (the very last thing to bloom each year), dark foliaged somethings (agastache?), and goldenrods proliferate in wide sweeps. I hit on cutting them back a few years ago, just trip them down and give other things a chance to thrive among them. Allows ambivalence. The asters for sure branch out and bloom - I'm not so sure about the goldenrods but I don't mind.
Eventually I will need to make more choices but for now I've done some OK and worthwhile cleanup.
Saturday, May 29, 2010
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Vines Rampant
Today I woke to rain and turned over to sleep again for two hours. WooHoo! I love my sleep! I built a day plan on indoor projects, but after lunch it started to clear and dry out. Perfect timing for weeding, so I headed out for a couple of minutes.
I did some minimal deadheading, weeding and pruning along the front corner, kept on going around the corner and into the driveway, headed at the kitchen door, when I stopped dead at the sight of the overwhelming vines choking everything along the back walk. I've got one or two types of morning glory / bind weed vines going there, and unchecked they were rampant. They were outcompeting two big garden thugs - mint (along the house) and butterfly bushes! Now that's tough!
I worked at it assiduously for a couple of hours. I filled a brown compost bag with the vines. I pulled it out of the grass, off the butterfly bushes and from within the mint. I tried to follow the skinny vining stems down to the ground and grasp firmly to get roots, but I really didn't succeed very often. Sometimes I got stem from beneath the surface, but it didn't seem to have any roots attached.
I think there is probably a root the size of me living six feet down under there, sending shoots to the surface wherever it can. I haven't positively ID'd the culprit, but I know there is a weedy species around here that does just that. So probably what I did today is only a stopgap measure. But it was a useful one, in terms of giving the butterfly bush and mint a fighting chance to get going.
I think my next battle with these vines will involve spraying. The trick will be finding something I can spray without killing the other plants - so down near the ground as it re-emerges near the butterfly bush will work. On the other hand, in the mint bed, I might need to let it get taller than the mint and spray the foliage there. At least I will have given the daffodils in the same bed a chance to wither away. I'll get it, my pretty, if its the last thing I do. If worst comes to worst, I can always just nuke the whole mint bed and start over - I don't need a whole bed of mint, anyway.
I did some minimal deadheading, weeding and pruning along the front corner, kept on going around the corner and into the driveway, headed at the kitchen door, when I stopped dead at the sight of the overwhelming vines choking everything along the back walk. I've got one or two types of morning glory / bind weed vines going there, and unchecked they were rampant. They were outcompeting two big garden thugs - mint (along the house) and butterfly bushes! Now that's tough!
I worked at it assiduously for a couple of hours. I filled a brown compost bag with the vines. I pulled it out of the grass, off the butterfly bushes and from within the mint. I tried to follow the skinny vining stems down to the ground and grasp firmly to get roots, but I really didn't succeed very often. Sometimes I got stem from beneath the surface, but it didn't seem to have any roots attached.
I think there is probably a root the size of me living six feet down under there, sending shoots to the surface wherever it can. I haven't positively ID'd the culprit, but I know there is a weedy species around here that does just that. So probably what I did today is only a stopgap measure. But it was a useful one, in terms of giving the butterfly bush and mint a fighting chance to get going.
I think my next battle with these vines will involve spraying. The trick will be finding something I can spray without killing the other plants - so down near the ground as it re-emerges near the butterfly bush will work. On the other hand, in the mint bed, I might need to let it get taller than the mint and spray the foliage there. At least I will have given the daffodils in the same bed a chance to wither away. I'll get it, my pretty, if its the last thing I do. If worst comes to worst, I can always just nuke the whole mint bed and start over - I don't need a whole bed of mint, anyway.
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Miracles Happen, with Effort
I think seeds sprouting are truly miracles. I fairly casually spread grass seed around my back yard a couple of weeks ago without much hope. No soil prep, old seed, minimal watering.
But the grass is growing! There is a big patch where I used to park the motorcycles, the biggest bare patch of ground I wanted covered. Just tender little sprouts, but enough to look solidly bright green from a little away. Hooray!
If I hadn't taken those few extra moments to try, I'd still be staring at bare dirt there. No doggie visitors for another couple of weeks to let it get better established.
- iPhone uPdate
But the grass is growing! There is a big patch where I used to park the motorcycles, the biggest bare patch of ground I wanted covered. Just tender little sprouts, but enough to look solidly bright green from a little away. Hooray!
If I hadn't taken those few extra moments to try, I'd still be staring at bare dirt there. No doggie visitors for another couple of weeks to let it get better established.
- iPhone uPdate
Friday, May 21, 2010
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Coloring Inside the Lines
I have very modest goals for this year's garden. One of them is to actually plant most of the plants I buy (versus letting them die in their original pots). So now I try to buy and plant all in the weekend, scaling my purchases to specific blocs of time.
This week was annuals into boxes. I decided two of my 3' x 3' boxes along the side in full sun would be dedicated to annuals. When I saw the very bright colors at Behnkes, I went for monochromatic approaches. I have a red box, and I have a yellow box. They each have several types of flowers, but all in the same color. I had to work to make sure the reds were truly red and not orange or magenta. The yellows, again, NOT orange. White or cream is OK.
I also decided on a basil range. One box is devoted to basil - I bought two plants each of eight different varieties. I left the center of the box open, thinking something taller may need to go in there.
This leaves me one box - I think I'll do beans there - but maybe I'll do sunflowers. I have seeds for both. Something tall, anyway.
This monochromatic approach I really like. I have a yellow bed of perennials that pleases me much. I also have a blue and purple patch, that never fails to grab me. Here is May Night salvia with siberian iris transplanted from Mom's house in Bellport.
I ran out of time, but I'm pleased with what I got done.
This week was annuals into boxes. I decided two of my 3' x 3' boxes along the side in full sun would be dedicated to annuals. When I saw the very bright colors at Behnkes, I went for monochromatic approaches. I have a red box, and I have a yellow box. They each have several types of flowers, but all in the same color. I had to work to make sure the reds were truly red and not orange or magenta. The yellows, again, NOT orange. White or cream is OK.
This monochromatic approach I really like. I have a yellow bed of perennials that pleases me much. I also have a blue and purple patch, that never fails to grab me. Here is May Night salvia with siberian iris transplanted from Mom's house in Bellport.
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