Late fall color in the garden

In baseball terms, this is not the last inning for our gardens. It’s more like the seventh-inning stretch. Many flowers have finished up and are dying back, but a few are yet to come.

Let’s take a look, starting with two bulb plants that have not come up yet in my garden but will soon: autumn crocus (Colchicum speciosum) and saffron crocus (Crocus sativus). The first are not true crocus but resemble crocus on steroids. They send up big leaves in the spring to provide the bulbs with the energy needed for fall blooming, then they die back and disappear. In September the blossoms appear, but without any leaves. Their blossoms resemble crocus blossoms, but are 4 to 5 inches long and appear on 5-inch stems. For me, these pink or white blossoms usually flop over but still look good. And they can last in a vase for a few days.

Planted in August, saffron crocus blooms that same year in October or November. Each beautiful little blue flower has three stamens, which when picked and dried is used in cooking and is fabulously expensive.

The crocus bulb that blooms this fall produces several little bulbs around the “mother corm,” then dies. Those little corms may bloom the next year but might not. I’ve grown them but haven’t had luck getting blossoms in Year 2, probably because they need full sun and I planted mine in part sun.

But on to the reliable fall bloomers. Grocery stores and garden centers are selling pots of annual chrysanthemums, many in pots with 100 blossoms or more. They are a sure antidote for the end-of-summer blues! They’re bright and colorful — good for the front steps or to replace annuals that melt after the first timid frost. Be sure to water them regularly if they’re on your front steps in a peat pot, as they dry out quickly.

Then there are the perennials, most of them tall and bold. Right now, in bloom, a few I have are white mugwort, goldenrod, Joe Pye weed, sneezeweed and black-eyed susans.

Although its cousin, common mugwort (Artemesia vulgaris), is a pernicious weed that spreads vigorously by root and seeds, white mugwort (Artemesia lactiflora) stays in tidy clumps 3 feet tall with masses of delicate white flowers. My mugwort is finishing up its bloom cycle now.

Goldenrod can be weedy, but there are certain species that are not. ‘Fireworks’ is a named variety that is a clumper and is very lovely, 3 to 4 feet tall. Pollinators love goldenrod, so don’t dismiss it. Those sold at garden centers are probably not weedy.

Most of you know Joe Pye Weed, a tall, spreading native plant that has been blooming for me since mid-August and still looks good and attracts pollinators. Last year a large flock of monarchs stopped in one day to fill their gas tanks with nectar before the flight to Mexico! It does best with rich, moist soil in sun or part sun.

There are now shorter cultivars available for sale, though I haven’t tried any. ‘Little Joe’ sounds good but is still 3 to 5 feet tall in 2- to 3-foot-wide clumps. I have a full-sized variety called ‘Gateway’ that is 6 to 8 feet tall and has spread over the decades to a 10-foot-wide clump. Not for the small cottage garden!

Sneezeweed (Helenium autumnale) is a lovely 3- to 6-foot-tall flower in the aster family that does not make you sneeze, though it was used as snuff long ago, hence the name. It comes with pure yellow flowers, or with orange, red or brown petals mixed in. It needs full or part sun and is best in the back of a perennial bed as it has “bad legs,” meaning the leaves on lower parts of the stem tend to brown up early.

You all know the black-eyed Susans, so I will only mention a variety called ‘Henry Eieler,’ which is very tall and has petals separated by spaces like the teeth on a jack-o’-lantern. Six feet tall in an ever-expanding clump, it needs to be staked.

Some shrubs and trees have leaves with wonderful fall color; a few even bloom in late fall. Of the bloomers there are many kinds of hydrangeas, seven-son flower tree (Heptacodium miconioides) and the witch hazel tree (Hamamelis virginiana), which blooms in October and November with ribbon-like flowers.

Of the hydrangeas, I like ‘Pink Diamond’ best for its big conical panicles on stiff, non-flopping stems. At age 20, mine is 15 feet tall and wide. But ‘Quick Fire’ is a great smaller one — I keep mine pruned to 4 feet tall and wide with an annual cutting back of last-year’s blossoms in the spring. That also stimulates more blossoms. They start out white in early summer, mature to pink and red in the fall, and look good all summer. And of course the Pee-Gee hydrangea is an old favorite that does get big.

For foliage color, you can’t beat fothergilla (Fothergill major). A slow-growing native, fothergilla displays red, yellow, orange and purple leaves late in the fall. In spring it has early white bottlebrush flowers.

But if you lament the demise of burning bush, now on the invasive species list, look for a disanthus (Disanthus cercidifolius). The leaves turn a rich purple and the plant holds on to them till late in October. It is hard to find in nurseries, so if you see one, grab it! It stays as a medium to large shrub that likes sun to part sun.

Enjoy the fall, and make sure you have some plants that will make you want to stroll your gardens, camera in hand.

Henry can be reached at henry.homeyer@comcast.net or PO Box 364, Cornish Flat, NH 03746.

A few chores for the early fall garden

We’ve already had some chilly nights here in Cornish Flat, New Hampshire. Frost is still a long way off, but a few leaves are already turning and I’m thinking about my fall chores and getting a few done now. Let’s take a look at some chores you might wish to add to your list.

First, have a good look at your lawn. If you have bare spots or areas where your grass is thin, this is a good time to “over-seed” those places. You’ll be helped by temperatures that are cooler and rain that is usually more frequent.

I recently called Paul Sachs, a lawn expert and the owner of North Country Organics, a Vermont-based organic fertilizer producer. Paul suggested scratching up the area that needs help with a rake, sprinkling some seed over the area and tamping it down to ensure good contact with the soil. I use a metal tamper that does this well: it is a thick metal plate 8 inches square on a 4-foot handle. Lift it a few inches, drop it. Thud. Done.

Lawn seed needs light to germinate, so don’t cover your seed with soil. You can mulch lightly with straw to shade it and reduce evaporation. Seed needs to be kept lightly moist in order to germinate. In hot dry times, water daily. I generally use a “conservation mix” for the seed — it’s a good mixture of grass types. Paul Sachs told me you can over-seed through the end of October. I say do it sooner rather than later, preferably right after a rain.

If you haven’t harvested your potatoes yet, do so soon. If they have bloomed or if the leaves are yellowing and dying back it is time to do so. Try to avoid damaging your potatoes when digging. If your soil is loose and fluffy, you can tug gently on the main stem while loosening soil from around the plant with your other hand. If your soil is heavy, push your shovel into the ground at a 45-degree angle to get well under the plant, and pry upward. Potatoes store best unwashed and cured in the shade for a couple of days before going in a storage fridge or a cool, dark basement. Mice love potatoes, so make sure they can’t get to them.

Recently I planted another batch of lettuce, and I recommend you do, too. Lettuce seeds need sunlight to germinate, so you shouldn’t cover them with too much soil. A sprinkling of agricultural vermiculite (instead of soil) works fine. But if you plant seeds directly in the ground and you press down the seeds, it can form a little gully that fills up with soil when watering. I did that once this year and got only three seeds to germinate in a double 4-foot row. (Shame on me, I know better.) When I planted seeds in my waist-tall raised growing bed I was able to water gently and had germination in five days! I thinned out some seedlings and replanted, but I need to thin the rows some more.

Fall is a good time to move things around in the garden, including trees and shrubs. Scientists have determined that woody plants extend their roots after leaf drop in the fall. If you transplant now, be sure to water daily for the first week or so, and at least weekly after that, or more often if it’s hot and dry.

I recently dug a mature honeyberry shrub (Lonicera caerulea) and gave it to some new friends. It was about 5 feet wide and 30 inches tall. It had provided birds with nice snacks in early summer, but I got only a few berries since birds eat them earlier than I do, and I refuse to use netting.

I pushed a long shovel (sold as The Root Slayer) into the soil and pried up the soil all the way around. I tried to get the shovel under the middle of the plant from all four sides before gently lifting it and placing it on a tarp we used for moving it to my friend’s truck. Fortunately honeyberry has no tap root, which would have made the digging more difficult. Oaks (and most nut trees) grow deep tap roots making transplanting difficult after their first year and requiring severing the tap root.

This is a good time to do a little planning: If you plan to plant spring-blooming bulbs or garlic, buy or order them soon. Seed garlic often sells out long before planting time in October. Visit your local farmers market or gardening center to buy garlic now unless you plan to sacrifice some of this year’s harvest for planting.

Lastly, take a walk around your property and ask yourself, “Do I really like this plant? Should I pull it and replace it with something else?” I’ve run out of space in my garden, so I am doing that now and sharing plants with friends to make space for new plants.

Henry has been gardening in Cornish Flat since he bought his home in 1970. You can reach him at henry.homeyer@comcast.net or PO Box 364, Cornish Flat, NH 03746.

Plants to look out for — and remove

By mid-August many of us have sighed with relief and settled into a comfy chair in the shade. Planting is done. Weeds? Either under control or not going to be controlled until Jack Frost comes along. We pick our tomatoes, fill a few vases with late bloomers and generally relax. But this is a good time to work on controlling invasive plants. Let’s look at a few of the culprits and what we might do. Three shrubs or small trees I have been working on are buckthorn, multiflora rose and bush honeysuckle.

Buckthorn is difficult to eradicate because if you just cut it down, the roots send up dozens of new plants. If you are patient, you can double girdle a trunk with a small folding saw, cutting through the bark and green layer beneath it but not cutting into the core wood beneath that. This prevents the leaves from feeding the roots, starving them. I’ve done this, but generally it takes three years to kill the tree. No new shoots come from it. But I’m 80 now and don’t want to wait three years.

So what have I been doing? Digging out the plants, roots and all. It’s slow but generally doable. I shall see next spring if the inevitable fragments of roots left in the soil send up new shoots. But if they do, they should be easier to get out. I am working on plants no more than an inch and a half in diameter at the base.

I start with my CobraHead weeder, raking through the soil, exposing roots and teasing them out. I then rock the main stem to loosen up the roots some more, and I try to get roots exposed on one side and pull them out of the ground, then tip the small tree over the other way. I then get a long shovel under the center of the tree and try to pry it up. If there are deep roots going straight down, I slice them off and try to dig them out after I have removed the tree and the surface roots.

Buckthorns are showing ripe fruit in my neighborhood right now — dark shiny berries that have a pit like a small cherry in the middle. Birds eat them and excrete the seeds, starting new plants. Common buckthorn has male and female plants, and only the females have berries. Glossy buckthorn is self-pollinating, so all produce fruit. I have a male common buckthorn and although it has not made fruit it has sent up about three dozen root sprouts in a radius of 6 feet or so, all interconnected.

Most trees have either alternate or opposite branching of leaves and branches. Not the buckthorns; they have “sub-opposite” branching. Twigs are not quite opposite on the branches, one just a little below the other. That’s a good way to help identify buckthorns.

Multiflora roses (Rosa multiflora) were introduced by the USDA in the 1930s for use in erosion control and as living fences. They were used by highway departments in the 1960s in divided highways as crash barriers and a way to screen headlight glare. Unfortunately, they escaped and became a dreadful noxious invasive. They can strangle trees and make it impossible to walk through areas where they have taken over.

Birds introduced multiflora roses to my property just a few years ago. I had seen it elsewhere and knew it, so I began digging it out before it became a serious problem. But it will be on my “to do” list, I fear, till the day I die. I have found its roots spread far and wide, and the thorns are dreadful. This is a job to hire out if you can find someone willing to take it on, and must be done every year.

I try to at least cut it back before animals spread the seeds found in the rose hips. Digging it out is a “later in the fall” project for me so I can wear heavy canvas jeans, jacket and gloves. The roots, in my experience, are not particularly deep. However, that may vary according to the type of soil you have. Digging out roots is always easiest when the soil is moist, not dry.

There are many species of honeysuckle, both native and foreign invasive that grow in New England; of these, four bush honeysuckle are invasive. If you have honeysuckle and didn’t plant it, it probably is one of the invasive ones. I have honeysuckle as a problem plant at the edges of my property. Right now it is displaying juicy red berries that have three small hard seeds inside. If you cut the stem, it has a hollow center, or a dark area at the center.

In my experience digging up a honeysuckle is much easier than getting out a buckthorn or multiflora rose. This is due, in part, to the fact that the roots seem to stay closer to the surface and can be exposed by digging with my CobraHead weeder. Sometimes they break when I pull on them, and I don’t really know if those bits will create new plants. I will mark where the honeysuckles were pulled, and revisit the sites where they were growing next spring to see if new plants are growing.

The list of invasives is long but most gardens have some of them. Both New Hampshire and Vermont have good websites with complete lists. New Hampshire will identify invasives for you from photos you send in. The most important things to do are to learn about your invasives, and to work every year to remove some.

Removing invasives is hard work but very satisfying. I recommend getting rid of root systems and fruit in household trash or in your fireplace — never in your compost pile, where they may survive and thrive.

Henry’s column appears twice monthly. Reach him at henry.homeyer@comcast.net.

Enjoying the fruits of your labor in the vegetable garden

Pull them, freeze them, dry them, eat them Pull them, freeze them, dry them, eat them

My vegetable garden is cranking out free food like crazy. Some things need to be harvested right away, some can wait and get bigger, and some will soon be so plentiful that I will be giving them away and freezing lots for use this winter.

Let’s start with garlic. Garlic produced tall, curly stems called scapes a few weeks ago. They can be used for making pesto (in lieu of garlic, but my basil wasn’t ready). My garlic bulbs will soon be ready to harvest, and by then I will have lots of basil and then I will make pesto.

How do you know when it’s time to pull garlic? Pay attention to those long green blades, the leaves of your garlic. Generally a garlic plant will have about seven leaves. When three leaves have started to dry up and turn brown, it’s time to harvest them. But don’t wait until all the leaves have browned, or the skin over the bulb will be dry and fall apart, letting the bulbs fall apart, and store poorly.

You don’t get to eat your garlic the day you pull it. It takes time — a week or more — for the outer skin of the bulb to dry up enough that you can pull the cloves apart and separate them. I mean, you can cut one apart in case of emergency, but it’s best to let them dry out a bit.

I generally hang my complete garlic plants in bunches (bulbs up, stems down) from the ceiling in my cool basement. I’ve read that some of the goodness of the garlic is in the stem and leaves, and that it will migrate to the bulb during the curing period, so best not to cut off the stems right away. After it cures for a week I’ll cut off the stems. Garlic will store well in a cool dry place for months.

People who don’t know me gasp when I tell them I grow about 40 tomato plants each year, including over a dozen Sungold cherry tomatoes. They ask, “What do you do with all of them?” Of course I eat them every day, often three times a day. But I put up most for winter: I freeze big tomatoes whole, and dry the cherry tomatoes in a food dehydrator.

The easiest way to freeze tomatoes is simply to put whole, clean tomatoes in freezer-grade zipper bags in the freezer. I put the bags on cookie sheets until the tomatoes have turned into “red rocks,” then can stack the bags. In winter, I’ll use them in soups or stews instead of buying canned tomatoes. Canning is way too much work for me.

The cherry tomatoes I slice in half and dry for several hours. It can take up to 12 hours, depending on the dryer, then store in the pantry in quart jars or zipper bags. I start the process at high heat — say 150 degrees — for 20 minutes, then drop the temp to 125 or 130 so that I don’t damage the vitamins in the tomatoes. You can take them out when brittle, or earlier when they are leather-like. They store well in a cupboard, in the fridge, or in a freezer. I’ll add a handful to a soup or stew and they will really provide a pop of summer when I bite into one. Apples and pears store well for trail snacks after dehydrating.

I have two dryers: a Nesco American Harvester and an Excalibur. I prefer the Excalibur because it is more energy-efficient and faster. But it costs more, and the Nesco does a fine job, too. There are plenty of others I haven’t tried.

People make jokes about gardeners sticking big zucchinis in parked cars because they don’t know what to do with them. The answer? Visit your garden every day, part the leaves to see what is growing there, and pick those squash before they get huge. Sauté them with a little garlic, onion or tomato and they are delicious. My dear dog Rowan sometimes gets some lightly steamed squash added to his dinner — he loves a bigger dinner, and it’s low-calorie.

Summer squash can also be stored frozen. Cut them into cubes and blanch them for 60 seconds. NOT MORE. That means you drop them into a big kettle of rapidly boiling water, then pull them out and put in cold water in the sink. Blanching pots are sold with an inner pot with holes in the bottom so you can remove the veggies quickly after draining the hot water back into the pot. The hot immersion kills an enzyme that makes food age and not store well in the freezer.

What other veggies need blanching? Brussels sprouts, broccoli, beans, kale. I don’t blanch tomatoes, peppers, apples, pears or leeks. Never blanch any vegetable too long: you don’t want to cook them; they will be soggy later. And for best results it is good to eat frozen foods in Year 1, not Year 4 or 5. If you eat your beans soon after picking, they don’t have to be blanched before freezing.

My Grampy was an amazing organic gardener back in the 1940s through the 1960s. His wife died in 1954 and he never remarried, but he had lots of lady friends that he visited each week in summer, delivering his tomatoes, carrots, cucumbers and more. He even shared his tomatoes with the checkout women who worked at the local A&P grocery store! “They are so nice to me all year, and probably they don’t have time to garden,” he explained to me. So, honoring Grampy’s tradition, I like to share my garden veggies, too.

Henry can be reached by email at henry.homeyer@comcast.net or by USPS at PO Box 364, Cornish Flat, NH 03746.

Introducing art, whimsy and laughter into your garden

For some, gardening is serious business. Not me. Well, I do consider myself a serious gardener, having been growing things since I was a toddler, but I like to make our gardens full of plants — and things — that bring smiles or even laughs to anyone visiting the garden. Gardens should be beautiful, but also fun.

When I was a small boy my older sister, Ruth Anne, introduced me to jewel weed, also called touch-me-not (Impatiens capensis). It is an annual weed that grows in shady, moist areas and has small bright yellow and orange flowers. But the best part for a kid is the seed pods. Each little canoe-shaped pod is spring-loaded with seeds, and when ripe, these pods can throw seeds several feet. Pick one and it explodes in your hand. Guaranteed to make a child — or this old guy — laugh. Mind you, I try hard to eradicate 98 percent of the jewel weed I see in our gardens, but I leave a few at the edges to amuse and delight kids of all ages.

Fuzzy plants are great for getting visitors to smile. Right now I have a variety of burnet (Sanguisorba spp.) that is named ‘Lilac Squirrel.’ If you are of a certain age, you may remember when bicycles sometimes were adorned with real squirrel tails on the ends of the handlebars. These flowers, a lovely pink-lilac color, hang down like those squirrel tails, hence the name. I always am delighted when I see them. They make me smile. As do pussywillows in the spring.

Then there is turtlehead (Chelone obliqua), a gorgeous, tall, fall-blooming flower I grow in moist part shade to full sun locations. It has pink flowers that mimic the open mouth of a turtle. They are loved by bumblebees that force themselves inside the blossoms, with little room to spare. Once inside, they sometimes make what I call “growling noises.” Are the bees angry they are having a hard time finding their way out? Drunk on pollen? I don’t know, but I grin when I hear them.

Back in the 1980s, when we had real cold winters, I had grown a peach tree to size and was anticipating a good crop of fruit. I waited, come spring, for it leaf out. And waited. No luck. It was dead. Instead of lamenting my misfortune, I planted annual vines all around it: morning glories, climbing nasturtium, scarlet runner beans and perhaps others. They grew, they blossomed, they amazed visitors: “What tree is that?” When I told them it was a dead peach, they laughed, every one.

Later I had a contorted hazelnut die of old age and my wife, Cindy, who is a fabric artist, tied on strips of different colored cloth to the branches. They blew in the breeze and added color to the garden for a year or more.

A shrub I grow next to my little stream is called buttonbush (Cephalanthus occidentalis). This full-sun to part-shade shrub is a native, often growing in standing water in swamps — I just saw some in bloom down in Connecticut in the wild, but have never seen it up here, except in my garden. Why is it worthy of a giggle? When blooming it has one-inch spherical blossoms with many tiny white florets coming out of it, sort of like what I always imagined Sputnik to look like, with little antennae sticking out. You will want to touch it, sniff it. But it is not a handsome shrub most of the year. Although rated as a Zone 5 plant, for me it dies back to the ground most years in winter — even though we’ve been moved from Zone 4 to Zone 5.

Surprise in the garden can be good for a giggle, too. For several years I had “Sister Mary-Lou” in the garden. She was a full-bodied, bosomy scarecrow in a purple dress and old rubber barn boots. She was not made to scare away crows (as her ancestors were), but for the fun of seeing her. Even when I knew she was there, she was real enough to startle me early in the morning. Which then made me laugh at myself. She went traveling to the Tunbridge, Vermont, “World’s Fair” in the late 1990s and won Best in Show in the scarecrow competition, though she declined to brag about that. She has long been retired. A good scarecrow is always three-dimensional, not just some clothes hung on a pole and a cross bar.

Each year for the past 20 years or more there has been an event in Woodstock, Vermont, called Sculpture Fest on the property of Charlet and Peter Davenport at 509 Prosper Road and at the adjoining King Farm, a nonprofit. This year it opened in mid-July and will remain open, dawn to dusk throughout the summer and into the fall. And although it displays some serious works of art, it also always has some fun and whimsy — and ideas for me about what I might add to our gardens. It is free and open to the public.

So what whimsy might you add to your garden? I remember when pink plastic flamingoes were popular on front lawns. Then they became passé. Recently I saw a few poking their noses out of a field of tall grass and had a chuckle. Yard sculpture can be almost anything. I have a rusty toy truck from the 1940s sitting atop a stone wall. I like seeing it there, and have had nice comments about it from visitors.

So stop at that yard sale you might otherwise pass by. See if there is anything interesting, colorful or weird that you might sneak into the garden. After all, garden whimsy doesn’t need to be weeded!

Henry can be reached at henry.homeyer@comcast.net or PO Box 364, Cornish Flat, NH 03746.

Plants that have stood the test of time

The Fourth of July celebrations are over — the fireworks, parades, hot dogs and strawberry shortcake. Leading up to the Fourth I paused to think about the gardens of Thomas Jefferson, one of the authors and signers of the Declaration of Independence. He lived and gardened at Monticello, his estate in Virginia. According to the Monticello website, Jefferson planted (or ordered and supervised the planting of) 160 different kinds of trees and shrubs as well as perennials, annuals and vegetables — and kept notes of everything. Monticello still grows almost everything he did.

Jefferson grew one of my favorite trees, the Eastern Redbud (Cercis canadensis). It is a wonderful early-summer blooming medium-sized tree and I’ve had one for at least 10 years. It is suitable for a part shade location or full sun. In the wild (New Jersey and south) it is found mainly as an understory tree. It blooms in early summer with small pink blossoms that seemingly pop right out of the bark. Cold hardy varieties are common now and it is rated to Zone 4.

Jefferson loved peaches. He grew more than 30 kinds of peaches but we can grow just a handful that are sold here in New England. A few will survive a Zone 4 winter, but Zone 5 is better for peaches, with winters that never drop below minus 20.

All peaches do best in full sun, meaning six hours of sun or more per day in summer. They are self-fruitful — they self-pollinate and you need only one tree to get fruit. Apple, plums and most pears do need a second variety that blooms at the same time for pollination. Most fruit trees are said to “Not like wet feet.” So don’t plant them in an area where the soil is usually wet.

The ‘Reliance’ peach, developed at UNH, has been around for decades and is one of the better cold hardy peaches. It is productive and tasty. Other good peaches are Red Haven and Madison. Contender is well thought of, but I have not found the fruit very tasty, and a lot of my fruit has rotted on the tree. Other growers love it. Try to taste peach varieties before planting one.

Jefferson was intrigued by sugar maples as an alternate source for sugar, but they did not do well down there. Virginia is a bit too hot. In my experience, if you have an old maple that is declining in health, try giving it some garden lime. Spread it not just under the drip line, but go out much farther because the roots do.

I gave lime to an old maple because I read about an experiment in 1999 at the Hubbard Brook Experimental Station in northern New Hampshire. Scientists found that acid rains had depleted calcium in soils there. They distributed calcium (using crop dusters) and found it increased health in stands of sugar maples and red spruce. I’ve given my old sugar maple several applications of lime over the last 25 years and it is doing fine. And don’t park cars under your maples as root compaction is not well tolerated.

One of Jefferson’s favorite trees was Southern Catalpa (C. bignonioides). That is hardy to Zone 6, but I grow northern Catalpa (C. speciosa) and love it. I planted mine eight years ago as an 8-foot-tall tree that came in a 7- or 10-gallon pot. Now it is 30-some feet tall with a trunk diameter of 12 inches a foot off the ground. My catalpa blooms vigorously in late June or early July each year, producing cream colored flowers that are 2 inches long and flecked with purple inside, growing in panicles. The seed pods look like foot-long beans.

Catalpas can get 60 feet or more tall, and are a bit weak-wooded, so they are prone to wind damage or blow-overs. My solution? I use an extension ladder to get up to a spot 30 feet off the ground each fall and cut off all growth that occurred that year. I top it. That keeps it from getting too tall — it can and does grow up to 5 feet in a year. Of course, at some point I won’t be allowed up a ladder. So far, so good. I’ve done it for the last three years.

Jefferson loved lilacs, as we all do. If your lilac has not produced many blossoms in recent years, it may also need a treatment of garden lime. Lilacs do best with soil that has a neutral pH, around 7.0, and lime will help get the pH closer to neutral. By now they have already set their buds for next year, but add lime or wood ashes now while you are thinking of it.

A shrub liked by Jefferson is called the Carolina Sweet Shrub (Calycanthus spp.). I grow it, but found it a bit fussy. I moved mine twice to find, like Cinderella, the fit that was “just right.” I first tried it in full sun and the leaves scorched — despite plenty of moisture. After the second year I moved it into shade, but it didn’t get enough sun and did not bloom much. Finally, five years later, I moved it under a big pear tree, where it gets filtered sun all day and it blooms and grows vigorously. The blossoms are a deep wine red, up to 2 inches across and shaped like little peonies. Some specimens are very fragrant, though mine is not. It blooms in early summer,

Like Jefferson, I like keeping a list of what woody plants I grow. Since I bought my house in 1970, I have planted at least 118 different kinds of woody plants, and about 95 percent of them have survived. And I’m still going to plant a few more. I make it through winter and mud season each year, in part, because I want to see what plants survived, too.

Henry may be reached by e-mail at henry.homeyer@comcast.net or by regular mail at PO Box 364, Cornish Flat,NH 03746.

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