Category: The Gardening Guy

As we begin 2024 I think it is good not only to look back but also to plan ahead. We can’t know if we’ll be facing hot and dry or wet and soggy this summer, or perfect conditions. But we can make plans and hope for the best.

For many of us 2023 was a disappointment. The summer was rainy much of the time. Vegetables like tomatoes and potatoes — vegetables that require lots of energy to build fruit or tubers — did not do well. Fungal diseases like late blight are most virulent with moist conditions, which we had in spades. And in my part of the world there was a late frost that spoiled the blossoms on our fruit trees — so no apples or pears. Sigh.

On the other hand, it was a great summer for newly planted trees and shrubs. I planted yet another pawpaw tree this summer, along with a fringe tree, an American hazelnut and a gooseberry. The soil stayed moist all summer from the rain, and all have done well.

Pawpaw (Asimina triloba) is a native fruit tree that is common in the woods of Pennsylvania and Ohio. The fruit is almost tropical in flavor, sometimes compared to a mix of mango and banana flavors. The trees are rated hardy to Zone 5 (minus 20 degrees F), but I have had one survive much colder temperatures — and another that died in a cold winter.

I have one pawpaw tree that is now 20 feet tall and 10 years old or more, but I am yet to get any fruit from it, despite the fact that it has blossomed. Apparently they are self-sterile, so in the past three years I have been planting new trees from different sources. Pawpaws send up root suckers, but these are genetic clones and not suitable for pollinating the mother tree.

A few thoughts about planting trees: First, preferentially choose trees and shrubs that are native to New England — or the United States. These are best for our birds and pollinators. And no, that doesn’t mean you should deprive yourself of the beauty of a Merrill or Jane magnolia. I just want to suggest a 90:10 or 80:20 ratio of natives to imported or hybridized varieties.

Secondly, if you plant trees in spring or summer, you must water during dry times. Fall is usually wet enough. A newly planted tree needs 5 gallons of water once a week distributed in a wide circle around it. A 2-inch layer of mulch will help minimize drying on hot August days and keep the mowers and string trimmers at bay. Mulch will also minimize weeds that compete for nutrients and water.

Some gardeners focus on growing vegetables, others on flowers. I want both. I started as a vegetable gardener, largely because there is little better in life than biting into a home-grown tomato warm from the sun. I grow heirloom tomatoes like Brandywine, Cherokee Purple and Ox Heart, but I also plant hybrids like Sungold, my favorite cherry tomato, and Defiant, which is resistant to some diseases.

If you grow open pollinated (heirloom) tomatoes, you can save a few seeds each year and dry them on a paper towel. Store them in a cool dark location and they will serve you well if you want to start your own seedlings, starting indoors in early April. But don’t save hybrid seeds,. as most will not breed true.

One of my readers wrote me this fall reminding me of something I wrote long ago: “I will make it through another winter because I want to see what else did.” It’s true. I can’t let age catch up with me because I want to see the annual show: snowdrops blooming in March; my Merrill magnolia, which blooms each year with 1,000 double white blossoms on my birthday in April; and the Japanese primroses — 500 to 1,000 of them beginning in May and lasting until mid-June.

My advice about planting flowers is simple: Grow what you love. Grow what your Grammie and mother grew. Grow what stops you in your tracks when you see if for the first time each season. Plant more of your favorites each year, or divide them and spread them out to new corners of the property. But keep it simple: Don’t plant so much that weeding becomes a dreaded chore.

I love arranging flowers and keep a vase of my own cut flowers on the table from March until after Halloween. You can do this if you plant lots of bulbs for early spring, your favorite perennials, and very importantly, this: plant annual flowers. Annual flowers keep on blooming all summer if you keep them from going to seed.

It’s easy to buy six-packs of annuals in spring and plant them in your perennial beds as well as in your vegetable garden. Most like full sun or part sun/part shade. And don’t fertilize annuals in the garden — too much nitrogen promotes leafy growth but delays flowering. Potted annuals do need some fertilizer as the fertilizer in potting mix is water-soluble and gets used up or washes away.

Remember, as you ponder your plans for a garden while looking at a snowy landscape, that gardening should be fun. My garden is my respite. It’s where I go when the world is too much with me. So do some planning now. And dream.

Henry’s column will appear about once a month this winter. Reach him at [email protected] or PO Box 364, Cornish Flat, NH 03746.

Featured photo: Gomphrena, an annual, is great in arrangements. Photo by Henry Homeyer.

Take time to sit and enjoy your garden

On Nov. 8, 1998, my first gardening column appeared in my hometown paper, The Valley News of West Lebanon, New Hampshire. Since then I have written more than 1,200 weekly columns and answered countless questions from readers. I am 77 years old and plan to slow down a bit — I’ll be writing just one column per month this winter, and perhaps two a month after that. We’ll see.

I’ve learned a lot during that time, interviewed plenty of interesting gardeners, and visited (and written about) great gardens in New England and further afield. Thank you, dear readers, for sending me suggestions, asking questions and generally keeping me on my toes. Early on I wrote about digging in the dirt and got an irate email from a reader: “It’s not dirt,” she wrote. “It’s soil. It’s what makes a garden work well. Dirt is what you sweep up.” Later, during an election campaign, another reader told me to shut up about politics and write about what I know, gardening. As I said, you have kept me in line all these years.

My favorite interview was with Ray Magliozzi of public radio’s Car Talk. He lives in a suburb of Boston and has a simple but elegant garden of rhododendrons, roses, dahlias and a tropical called Datura or Angel’s Trumpet. He has the same quirky sense of humor and boisterous laugh in the garden that he has on the radio. I asked him if there was a common thread between gardening and working on cars. Quickly he answered with a full belly laugh: “Dirt. But garden dirt washes off more easily. The reason I love gardening is that I love getting my hands dirty. When we fix cars, it’s not all science. There’s an art to it, too.”

Who else? The White House Gardener, Dale Haney. Tasha Tudor, the reclusive artist and gardener living in southern Vermont. Jean and Weston Cate, octogenarians who introduced me to the Seed Savers Exchange and the Boston Marrow Squash, a winter squash that they told me was the most popular squash grown in America in the 1850s — and still grown by them. And I interviewed and became friends with Sydney Eddison, a fabulous garden writer who when I called her recently had just come in from re-building a stone wall, even though she is now in her 90s. Gardeners do seem to last a long time.

I love the letters and emails of you readers and wish I had saved them all. Here’s part of one that I got recently that might interest you: What to do about the dreaded Asian jumping worm? “I sprinkled the tea seed meal (using my hand fertilizer spreader) and within a week (after a light rainfall which surely helped the process) the worms came to the surface (ick) and died. It would be lovely if they just stayed in the ground, but it was also gratifying to see that the tea seed meal actually worked! I have been told that they lay eggs this time of year so I will begin the process anew next spring.” This reader told me that she bought it at her local feed-and-grain store. She used 50 pounds for her lawn and gardens — about half an acre. The worms die in winter and hatch in early summer, so I may try it as soon as I see them next summer. That said, I must warn you that even though this is a natural, organic product, it can have negative effects on fish and amphibians. Do your research, and I will, too. To be continued.

What else have I learned as part of my experience writing a column? Although I had been a gardener since I was a toddler and learned how to grow veggies and flowers from my Grampy, I took classes to fill in the gaps in my knowledge. I went to Vermont Technical College in Randolph, Vermont, and took classes, including a great one about all the trees and shrubs that do well in our climatic zone. I already knew all the native trees that grow in Connecticut (where I grew up), but few shrubs and virtually no unusual decorative trees.

I took the Master Gardener course in New Hampshire, and that taught me lots of technical details about things like lawn care, insects and diseases, and lots more that I had never focused on. I drove 60 miles each way for 10 weeks to Concord, New Hampshire, where I spent half a day taking classes. And I committed to helping teach others in my community, which I have been doing ever since. And it helped expand my knowledge for the column. I continue to take seminars given by experts whenever I can.

Writing a column also gave me a great excuse to buy plants. I needed to know, for example, if Toadlily or Himalayan blue poppy would do well here, and what they needed to succeed. I learned to buy perennials in groups of three or five — to make a bold statement, or to try in various locations.

I needed to learn how to design a beautiful landscape with flowers, trees and shrubs. All that was part of my education. I now grow about 200 kinds of flowers and nearly 100 kinds of trees and shrubs. I’ve written about the ones that thrived — and the ones I’ve killed.

Eventually I learned not to buy plants unless I already have a place in mind where I might plant them. OK, I fib a little there. I am a sucker for beautiful flowers in bloom, and will buy them — and make a place for them somewhere!

What is my advice to you after all these years? Never get discouraged or give up. But also don’t bite off too much work. Start small and increase your gardens, one bed at a time. Stay true to using organic practices: Chemicals disrupt the natural balance of nature. Make a long-term plan for your garden if you can. Establish sight lines and pathways, and create small “rooms” in the garden. Plant trees early on — they take the longest to reach maturity. And when you reach my age, those trees can be magnificent. I planted several in 1972 that please me every time I think about them. Lastly, take time to sit down and enjoy your garden. You deserve to do so every day of the year.

I’d love to hear from you, dear reader. Is there an article that you remember best, or one you clipped and still refer to? I’m at [email protected] or PO Box 364, Cornish Flat, NH 03746. Thanks!

Featured photo: Branch collar to left of line drawn shows where to prune a branch. Photo by Henry Homeyer.

Free the trunk flare!

For many of us November is a drab and dreary month: days are short, gray skies the norm. Flowers are largely gone, the soil is soggy and a drizzle or a downpour is common. Soon snow will not be unusual — we’ve already seen a wintry mix. But there are things you can do when the sun comes out — or with rain gear on.

If you planted trees in the past few years, you should look at them carefully. Most planting tags on purchased trees tell you to plant them at the depth they are in the pot. Unfortunately, many trees are grown on huge farms and slapped into pots without regard to the “trunk flare” — that part of the tree that should be above ground.

Look at a mature tree planted by mother nature — or a squirrel. You will see that the base of the tree widens out, and often roots are seen snaking across the soil near the tree for a while before diving down to seek nutrients and moisture. When planting a tree it is essential that the trunk flare be above ground. If it’s not, soil fungi will rot the bark and eventually kill the cambium layer below it. This will kill the tree in six to 10 years. Even if the bark looks flaky and damaged, it probably will recover if you take action now.

If the tree you planted comes straight out of the ground like a telephone pole, or if there is mulch piled up against the tree, you must remove the material that will cause problems.

Mulch is easy to fix. Take your hand and pull it back, creating a doughnut hole for the trunk, at least 4 inches all around. Mulch has its place; it will keep down weeds and help prevent the soil from drying out in times of drought. But more than 4 inches of mulch can also prevent light rains from reaching the roots. Don’t overdo it. No mulch volcanoes. I’ve been seen removing mulch from trees in public spaces!

If there is soil over the trunk flare, use a hand tool to loosen the soil and pull it back, too. You may find little roots there, but cut them off. Re-grade the area for a foot or more around the tree in all directions. For a larger tree that was sold in a burlap wrapping, it is not uncommon to find 3 to 6 inches of soil over the trunk flare. The burlap wrapping — now often made of plastic materials — should have been removed at planting time. If not, your tree is doomed. Plastic wrapping will never degrade, so you need to dig up the tree and remove it now. Burlap will degrade in time, but often not for years.

What else is there to do in the garden now? This is a good time to move shrubs or small trees that are not doing well where they are. Roots do most of their growth between the time leaves drop and the time the ground freezes, which makes this a good time for moving them. Cool temperatures and rainy days help plants you move now, too.

I was visiting long-time friends in Ohio recently, and they had three fothergilla shrubs that had been in the ground five years and done almost nothing. I took a garden fork, thrust it into the soil nearby and tipped it back. Out popped the root ball, as if it had been planted the day before. I picked it up and took a look. Clearly the shrub had been in a one-gallon pot for a long time before they planted it. The roots had grown around and around the pot, keeping them from extending out into neighboring soil for moisture and minerals.

After soaking the root ball in a pail of water, I used my fingers, a small folding saw and a CobraHead weeder to tease the roots apart. I broke or cut some, but it didn’t matter. The shrubs were doomed unless I could get the roots pointed out and away from the tangled mess they’d been in. I replanted them in places with more sunshine and less competition from big perennials in beds where they should grow and be happy. It may take a year or two before they really start to thrive.

It’s tough to know just where to plant a tree or shrub for optimal growth. I like to observe the same species in another garden or ask a friend if they’ve had luck with the same species. The internet can help if you consult a university or arboretum website. I like books, too, especially any written by Michael Dirr. He seems to know more than anyone else. So do your homework, and think about moving any unhappy woody plants.

By the way, it’s not too late to plant spring bulbs, garlic or bulbs for forcing in pots. I particularly like forcing spring bulbs (daffodils, tulips, crocus and more) by potting them up now and keeping them in a cold place where they won’t freeze. Then in February and March I bring them into the warmth of the house, and they bloom early. I pot up enough to give some away to ailing or aged friends.

This is a good time to dig out invasive shrubs like burning bush or barberry that have been planted by birds. Their distinctive leaf color will help you find them now in your woods.

On the next to last day of October this year I plugged in my blue “fairy lights” in my Merrill magnolia and a nice pear tree. It was a gloomy, wet day, and the blue lights looked great against the yellow leaves. Some people call these Christmas or holiday lights, but I consider them just a cheerful boost to my spirits when gardening is nearly done and weather keeps me from doing my final chores.

Henry is a UNH Master Gardener, a regular speaker at garden clubs and libraries, and the author of four gardening books. Reach him by e-mail at [email protected].

Featured photo: Branch collar to left of line drawn shows where to prune a branch. Photo by Henry Homeyer.

A few bold cuts can transform a tree or shrub

I asked an experienced arborist the other day what he thought about pruning apple trees in the fall. His answer was the same as mine: “Prune when you have time and the pruners in your hand.” Yes, March is a good time to prune, but I suspect that farmers started the tradition of pruning their orchards then because it was too early to plow or plant, and they were suffering from cabin fever. Over the years, I have pruned most sorts of trees in the fall, winter, spring and summer — and seen no adverse effects. I particularly like to prune in the fall after leaf drop, as one can see clearly the shape of the shrub or tree.

Plants that bloom early in spring or summer have already formed buds for next year. Early bloomers include fruit trees, forsythia, lilac, magnolia, fothergilla, viburnums, rhododendrons, azaleas and many more. Right now you can see big fat buds on most of those, just waiting for spring and the right time to bloom. I say losing a few blossoms to pruning is no big deal: You will have a more beautiful tree to look at all winter, and a healthier tree next year.

Hardwood trees like maples, beech, oak, magnolia and linden can be pruned now. Maples and birch should not be pruned in the spring because they will bleed ferociously. Roses I usually prune in the spring, after I see how much the winter has killed off, if anything. Evergreens like pine and hemlock I usually prune right after the new growth has occurred in summer — that helps keep their growth in check.

Every tree or shrub is pre-programmed to be a certain size and shape. It’s in its DNA. You can influence how it will grow, but it will almost always persist and be what it is programmed to be. It’s very tough to keep a hemlock or pine small, for example. But you can remove lower branches so the mower can get under a tall tree, or make space for chairs in the shade.

My late sister Ruth Anne loved to prune. Her approach to pruning was to start by sitting on the ground and looking up through the branches. First, she looked for branches that filled up space but added little to the overall beauty and structure of the plant. If a tree is too crowded with branches, the interior is a mess and many leaves do not benefit from the sun.

Trees and shrubs look best, and perform best, when they have strong branches that will stand up to ice or snow loads. Ask yourself this question when considering removing a branch, “What will this look like in five years? In 10?” The answer guides me. I like to say that a bird should be able to fly through a well-pruned apple tree without getting hurt.

Don’t be a timid pruner. A few bold cuts (removing large stems) can transform a tree in just a few minutes. Nibbling away at the edges, taking off pencil-thick branches, is slow, tedious work.

How much wood can you remove in a single season? The old rule of thumb was a third of the leaf-producing branches. Now experts advise just 20 to 25 percent. Remember, the leaves are the engine of the tree. They produce the sugars that feed the roots, allow growth and produce the fruit. If you pile up cut branches near the tree you are working on, it will be easier to see when you have taken enough.

You should always remove all dead branches. Dead branches have dry, flaky bark. If you rub the bark of a small branch, you should see a green layer. Dead branches don’t count when you are calculating how many branches you can remove.

Where should you make your cuts? At the origin of the branch, either on a bigger branch, on the trunk, or at ground level. Don’t cut off a branch flush to the trunk as it will open up a big wound. Instead, look at the branch and see where the “branch collar” is, and cut just beyond it. The collar is the slightly swollen area at the base of a branch, and its bark is often wrinkled.

Here are the cuts I make when pruning a tree, in the order I take them out: (1) dead wood, (2) damaged or cracked limbs, (3) crossing or rubbing branches, (4) branches that are growing toward others or toward the center of the tree. (5) branches that are paralleling others and close to them (I remove the weaker of the two).

Removing a big branch is tricky: The weight can force the branch to break before you cut all the way through, allowing it to fall and tear the bark of the trunk. Make your first cut 18 inches from the trunk and on the underside of the branch. Then go a little farther out the branch and make a top cut. If the heavy branch starts to drop, the undercut will keep the branch from tearing the bark. Then make a through cut at the branch collar.

Buy good tools and keep them clean, dry and sharp. Don’t try to prune a tree that is so big you need a chainsaw. Leave that for the professionals. But shrubs? Anybody can work on them and make them look better. Think of pruning as creating sculpture. I do, and the frustrated artist inside me feels great when I have transformed a scraggly shrub into a thing of beauty. Go for it!

Henry has been living and gardening in Cornish, New Hampshire, for 53 years. He is the author of four gardening books. You may reach him at PO Box 364, Cornish Flat, NH 03746 or [email protected].

Featured photo: Branch collar to left of line drawn shows where to prune a branch. Photo by Henry Homeyer.

Try tulips, snowdrops and somewhat squirrel-proof daffodils

I’ve been planting bulbs around my property for at least 40 years, and some of them are still flowering each spring. I even have daffodils I brought up from my childhood home in Connecticut that might be 70 years old or more. Others run out of energy and disappear with time. If you haven’t done so yet, now is the time to get some and plant them.

First, let’s look at the basics: What makes a bulb plant survive and flourish? Decent soil. It must be well-drained. Soggy soil rots bulbs. If you have a heavy clay soil, it will stay wet and is not a good place for bulbs unless you add plenty of compost to the planting hole to help it drain better. Planting on a hillside helps, too, as water will drain off a hillside.

That said, there are a few bulbs that do fine in moist soil. Camassia is a lesser-known bulb plant that blooms in late spring with blue, purple or white star-shaped blossoms arranged on a central stem. Some are 2 to 3 feet tall or more. In the Northwest some grow in moist meadows or along the edges of woodlands. I’ve grown them and found a planting lasts about five years. There is one daffodil that does well in moist soil: thalia. It is very late, white and a bit frilly.

Bulb flowers take shade better than sun-loving perennials. Growing up we had hundreds of daffodils that bloomed along a woodland path behind the house. The leaves got sunshine and re-charged the bulbs before the trees were fully leafed out. Of course if you have plenty of sunshine, all the better.

Some people have had great luck planting daffodils in a grassy field or lawn. I’ve done that, but find that the bulb foliage is still green and producing food for the bulb when the lawn needs to be cut. If you cut the foliage too early, your bulbs won’t perform as well. I like to plant daffodils in flower beds between big clumps of hostas. They can bloom early, and then their dying foliage is hidden by the hosta leaves.

Some gardeners dig a little hole for each bulb, but that seems like too much work for me, even if you have one of those tools that are made for digging small round holes. I’d rather use my shovel to dig one oversized hole big enough for the 25 bulbs or more. For large bulbs like daffodils or tulips a hole 24 to 36 inches long and 18 to 24 inches wide is fine for 25 bulbs.

For the big bulbs I dig a hole 6 to 8 inches deep. Then I add compost and some organic fertilizer or “bulb booster” fertilizer and stir it into the bottom of the hole. I place the bulbs on the improved soil, pointy end up, and cover with more improved soil.

What about those hungry, bulb-stealing squirrels? They don’t eat daffodils as they are vaguely poisonous. They may dig a few up to see what you planted, but they won’t eat them. “Yech,” they say, if they inadvertently take a bite.

When I interviewed the White House gardener in 1999 he said they planted thousands of tulips each year, despite the rampant gray squirrels. He said they planted the tulips and covered them with soil, then put down a layer of chicken wire, then more soil. Oh, and he said they fed the squirrels all winter with cracked corn. Squirrels that are not hungry are less likely to try to steal your bulbs.

Some people have great luck with tulips coming back, but I consider them annuals. In general I find that the second year only half the tulips come back to bloom, the third year only half of those come back and so on. But I often plant 100 tulips, all one color for a blast of color in spring. I particularly like the tall ones that bloom a bit later.

‘Maureen’ is one of my favorite tulips. She is a 28-inch-tall tulip, a creamy white that blooms in May. ‘Menton’ blooms at the same time and is rose-pink with apricot-pink petal edges and is 26 inches tall. Wow. They make a nice mix.

If you consider your tulips annuals, you can plant them in your vegetable garden and pull them after blooming. Then you can plant tomatoes or something else there. I plant them close together, and they do fine. And if you have a deer problem, you can easily fence a small plot for 100 tulips with four poles and some bird netting.

The little bulbs are great early harbingers of spring, particularly snowdrops. Snowdrops are small white globes on 4-inch stems. Mine fight through frozen soil in early March. Some years (when we have deep snow) I shovel snow off the hillside where they appear so they can bloom on schedule. Each year I have more, so now, after decades, I have many hundreds.

Other early bloomers include winter aconite (Eranthis hyemalis), a small upward-looking six-petaled brilliant yellow flower. Another favorite of mine is glory-of-the-snow (Chionodoxa luciliae). This is a nice blue with a yellow eye. It blooms shortly after the snowdrops in April.

Henry lives in Cornish Flat, NH. He is the author of four gardening books and is a UNH Master Gardener. His email is [email protected].

Featured photo: Plant all bulbs pointy end up. Photo by Henry Homeyer.