Category: The Gardening Guy

It’s not too late to plant your orchard this year

I love the saying that something is “As American as apple pie.” I love apple pie and would have some for breakfast every day if I could. But oddly enough, apples are not native to the United States. They came from Kazakhstan, in central Asia east of the Caspian Sea.

I recently received a review copy of a great book about apples, Hardy Apples: Growing Apples in Cold Climates, by Bob Osborne with lots of fabulous photos by Beth Powning and published by Firefly Books (hardback, $35). It covers how to grow apples, and also has 140 pages of photos and descriptions of the best apples we can grow.

I spoke to Bob Osborne by phone at his home in New Brunswick, Canada. Bob has been planting apple trees in his orchard for over 40 years, mainly for scions (shoots) used for grafting by other orchardists. That required him to grow many, many different cultivars (varieties) of apples.

Bob is an organic grower and has paid attention to his soil as the key to healthy growth. In his book he gives a fine explanation of the soils that best support healthy apple trees. He recommends doing a soil test before planting apples.

A soil pH lower than 6.3, he notes, will not allow a tree to access the nutrients necessary for optimal growth and fruit quality. Calcium, magnesium and phosphorus can be bound up and unavailable even if present in the soil. He writes that in areas with naturally acidic soils, it is good to add lime every six years to keep the soil pH in the correct range.

Chemical fertilizer, he writes, provides nitrogen that when dissolved in water is highly acidic and can destroy much of the soil life that provides nitrogen naturally. Instead he recommends adding compost, blood meal, feather meal, fish meal or bone meal. He explains that you should not use fresh manures even though they are good sources of nitrogen. They can carry disease-carrying bacteria that can sicken you if you pick up dropped apples.

Potassium is important for good-quality fruit. Low potassium “may result in small fruit size, low sugar content and poor storability.” A soil test from your local state extension service or a commercial lab will tell you if you have adequate potassium, but if your fruit size is small, you may need to add some. Wood ash, he writes, is a good source of potassium, having about six percent potassium. I have read elsewhere that ash from charcoal grills should not be used in the garden.

Choosing a good site for your apple trees is important. For the home orchardist, apples will grow most anywhere, but full sun is best. Late spring frosts can damage blossoms and reduce fruit yields, so planting on a hillside is best. Cold air flows downhill and settles in low spots, which should be avoided. A hillside generally drains water better, which promotes healthy roots. Roots can rot in areas with year-round soggy soils.

Apple tree size is determined by the rootstock a scion is grafted to. There are four basic sizes: dwarf, semi-dwarf, semi-standard and standard. A few apples come on their own roots and tend to be full-sized trees. Bob recommends semi-dwarf or semi-standard for the home gardener. Dwarf trees, he told me, need support all their lives as the root systems are not adequate to hold them up in a storm.

I asked Bob for his recommendations for the best apples to grow in a home garden. The best, he said, is Liberty. It is resistant to many common diseases, tastes great and stores well. But he warned, you need to pick it when it is ready, not too early or too late. He picks his on Oct. 6, but farther south picking is earlier.

Next he recommended Novamac. It is resistant to scab, fireblight and cedar apple rust; it does not attract codling moths. It is tasty, it keeps well, and its form is open and easy to prune. It can be picked early if you like a tart apple. Other apples he likes include Sandow, Greensleeves and Pristine. See his book for more details on them and many others.

It’s not too late to plant an apple tree this year if you find one in a pot that you like. Or you can start planting next spring. In any case, having Bob Osborne’s book will guide you through the process.

Featured photo: Courtesy photo.

Try asters, Joe Pye or turtlehead for autumn color

Many gardeners go to the plant nurseries in June, and buy things in bloom for their gardens — and rarely go back until the next year. But that means that now, as summer winds down, they have few flowers in bloom. Not me. I buy perennials in all seasons. Fall flowers are important not only for me, but for those monarch butterflies that need to have plenty of hefty meals before taking off for Mexico.

Many of the flowers that bloom in fall are tall wild flowers that have been tamed and made into garden flowers: Many of the fall asters, Joe Pye weed and rudbeckias (black-eyed susans) sold in nurseries were just selected and bred to be more “garden worthy.”

According to entomologists in the know, the best plant for pollinators in fall is the goldenrod (Solidago spp.). This tall beauty has a bad reputation in some circles as a few species of goldenrod are a bit aggressive, arriving uninvited and spreading like crazy by root. And since they have massive root systems, they are not easy to remove. But not all are like that, and some are being sold in nurseries.

One of my favorite goldenrods is Fireworks. I’ve had it about 10 years. The original plant has gotten bigger every year, but never to the point of causing problems. It blooms in September with sprays of dainty yellow flowers in a vase-like arrangement. It is readily available in nurseries. It stands 3 to 4 feet tall.

I also grow one called blue-stemmed goldenrod (Solidago caesia) that is a shade-loving, diminutive goldenrod that I bought at the Garden in the Woods in Framingham, Mass., many years ago. It is perfectly well-behaved: It stays in a tidy clump and blooms late in the fall. It’s only about 16 inches tall.

New York ironweed (Vernonia noveboracensis) is a great pollinator plant that stands 4 to 6 feet tall or more with purple aster-like blossoms in big clusters. It does best in full sun and moist soil. Because it is such a tall plant once established, it is recommended that you cut it back to the ground when it is 2 feet tall in early summer to get a more manageable size. I wouldn’t do that until Year 2 or 3. And don’t give it fertilizer at planting time, or it may flop. Monarchs just love this plant, as do a myriad of bees.

New England asters (now no longer with the scientific genus name of aster, but Symphyotrichum) come in many sizes and a few colors. The wild ones are great. I have them alongside my stream in a light lavender. But commercially available ones come in pink and purple, too. They vary in height from quite short (often sold in bloom with the chrysanthemums) to over 5 feet tall. The mum-sized ones get taller in Year 2 and after, as they are cut back repeatedly to increase the number of blossoms and to keep them short. Full sun is best for these; they will grow in ordinary garden soil.

Joe Pye weed (Eutrochium spp., formerly Eupatorium) is also beloved by monarchs and pollinators of all kinds. The native Joe Pye grows wild along my stream, but I also have it growing in a garden bed I call the “Darwin bed.” The Darwin bed never gets weeded, and tall flowers fight for space. That bed contains Joe Pye, turtle head, asters, goldenrod and giant fleece flower, among others.

The variety in the Darwin bed is one called Gateway. Instead of greenish stems, it has dark purple-black stems, and it grows even taller than the native species. Mine is nearly 8 feet tall growing in moist, rich soil. All kinds have pink-to-purple flowers in large panicles at the tops of stems, sometimes a foot or more across.

There is a smaller version of Joe Pye weed, one called Baby Joe, that has been bred to be smaller, allegedly 2 to 3 feet tall. But I hear it is more like 3 to 4 feet tall if pleased with where it is situated. All have very tenacious root systems, so plant it where you want it.

Of my favorites is loved by bumblebees but the nectar and pollen is unavailable to monarchs because the blossoms are tightly closed. Turtlehead (Chelone lyonii) has clusters of delightful pink blossoms atop 4-foot stems. The flowers are unlike anything else I grow. They resemble the head of a turtle, and bumblebees force their way in through the ”mouth” of the turtle. If you listen, sometimes you can hear the bees inside — almost growling. Or are they purring? I don’t know.

Turtlehead has a long bloom time and is a great cut flower. They start blooming in August and bloom through much of September. They do best with rich, moist soil but I have them in full sun as well as full shade. There is another turtlehead that is white, but much less vigorous for me. Its Latin name is C. glabra and I have rarely seen it for sale in a nursery.

A real delight for me is to have a few bulb plants that bloom in the fall. Fall crocus is actually not a crocus at all, but a species known as Colchicum autumnale. It has leaves in the spring that disappear in summer, then it surprises us with big crocus-like blossoms on 4-inch stems. The flowers come in singles and doubles in colors from white to pink to purple. Expensive, but worth it. Most reliable in Zone 5 or warmer, though I have it in Zone 4. The flowers are on dainty stems, and often flop over unless planted in a ground cover like vinca that helps hold the flowers up.

So go to your plant nursery now and see what you can get that blooms in the fall. Our pollinators need food now, too.

Featured photo: Turtlehead is loved by bumblebees. Photo by Henry Homeyer.

Water deep if you can, and mulch properly

Many of my readers are suffering from a serious drought, enough so that plants are losing leaves and going dormant long before they should. Most well-established plants will recover from the effects of drought, even if they lose their leaves now. And new things? If you have not been giving them water weekly or more often, some may die.

Added to the problem is the fact that many places have enacted watering bans or limitations. And wells may not have enough to water everything. And of course watering takes time — time away from family, dogs and recreation.

If you have not been thinking about the drought, you should. Start by looking at your plants. Are leaves limp, withered or turning brown? If so, you need to water them well — today! They need a good deep watering.

Deep watering is not easy. If you take your hose and spray the base of the tree for a minute, you are not actually giving it much water. Wait 10 minutes after watering and go back to the new tree or shrub that you planted last spring. Use your finger or a tool like the CobraHead weeder (a weeding tool with a single tine) to dig down 4 inches or more. Is the soil moist? It should be. Most roots are in the top foot of soil. Add more water as needed.

If your soil is like powder, it is not easy to get water to penetrate the soil. If your tree is on a hillside, water you apply will run away almost immediately and not soak in at all. Even a gentle slope will allow water to run off. You will need to make a ring of soil or mulch around the tree or shrub to contain water.

If you are using a hose, use a watering wand to apply water rather than a spray nozzle held in your hand. These wands are usually 24 inches long with a nice “rose” on the end that makes the water flow in a gentle spray and have a valve to turn the water on, off or part way on. Since the tip of the wand is near the ground, it is less likely to wash away the soil. And it allows you to direct the water just where you want it. Soaker hoses on timers are good if you travel a lot, or vacation when it’s hot and dry.

Before you start watering, learn how much water your hose delivers. Do this by timing how long it takes to fill up a 5-gallon pail. Two or three minutes is usually long enough, but it depends on the diameter of your hose and the water pressure. Half-inch hoses are worthless. Five-eighths-inch hoses are adequate, and three-quarter-inch hoses are good for long-distance runs. Five gallons is the minimum quantity of water needed by a thirsty shrub or newly installed tree.

Most new woody plants need five gallons every week, but it does depend on the soil type. Sandy soil dries out the quickest and needs the most water. Clay soil holds water, but is hard to get thoroughly moist. Even though I have good soil, I always add compost to the soil when I plant anything. Not only does it add biological activity; it also holds water in sandy soil and loosens up clay soils. I buy it by the truckload. Most garden centers sell it in bulk, which is cheaper than buying it by the bag. Of the bagged compost, I like Moo-Doo and Coast of Maine brands.

Grasses and weeds suck moisture out of the soil, so dig them out around your trees. Weed a ring around new or struggling trees that is 3 to 4 feet wide. Then get some fine mulch (double-ground mulch, not wood chips). An inch and a half of mulch is about right, or two inches. Deeper than that and short rain showers will never get moisture to your plants’ roots.

Don’t buy bagged wood chips based on price — or if you do, buy the most expensive. Cheap mulch may be ground up and shredded construction debris and pallets. “Color enhanced” mulch is stained or dyed with something and may spread chemicals in the garden — and fade with time.

Never let the mulch touch the bark of your tree, or worse yet, make a faux-volcano of mulch. Mulch can harbor fungi that will rot the bark of your tree, killing it in six to 10 years. Once the cambium layer under the bark gets rotted, the tree will die. If you have mulch against any of your trees, please fix it right away.

Years ago I visited my friend Sydney Eddison at her home in Newtown, Connecticut. Sydney is a garden designer, author of many fine gardening books and a poet with terrific gardens. They were in the midst of a terrible drought — so bad that mature oaks were losing their leaves in the forest by August. A water ban was in place, but her gardens looked great.

“Sydney,” I said, “You’ve been cheating and watering your plants.” No, she explained, “It’s all about the mulch.” Each fall her husband, Martin, mowed over all the leaves that fell on the lawns and bagged them. He stored them in the barn until spring, and after all her plants woke up in the spring, she added a layer of chopped leaves. Not only did they hold in moisture, as they broke down they added organic matter to the soil — making it better each year.

This fall, do the same. Collect your leaves, or have the lawn service collect them for you. I don’t bag them up, I just add them to a pile and use as mulch in the spring. It really works. A 2-inch layer is perfect.

Don’t be disheartened if some of your plants go dormant now. It is their way of protecting themselves. But do water if you can — and get it down deep. Your plants will bless you!

Featured photo: A straw used to remove air from a bag of cherry tomatoes. Photo by Henry Homeyer.

Is that a squash under the bed?

Now is the time when gardeners often have too much fresh produce. People joke about locking their cars to keep neighbors from placing unneeded zucchinis in them. Our mothers and grandmothers labored over hot stoves on hot days to put up tomatoes in jars for winter, or to make jam. Now there are better, easier ways to preserve the harvest. Let’s have a look.

I keep tomato products for later use in a number of ways. First and easiest, I freeze tomatoes whole. I put clean tomatoes in zipper bags and freeze them whole. Later, when I want tomatoes for a soup or stew, I just run hot water from the tap into a big bowl and drop in a few tomatoes. That softens them up so I can easily chop them, but it also loosens the skins. I just rub the skins with my fingers, and the skin comes off. A few minutes later I chop them and they are just like canned tomatoes.

Want tomatoes for winter sandwiches? Cut them in thick slices and roast them on a sheet pan at 350 degrees until most of the moisture has gone. Then cool and place in zipper bags for storage in the freezer. When you need a tasty tomato in your sandwich, take a few slices out, and cook slightly in a toaster oven to thaw it.

I grow many hundreds of cherry tomatoes each summer. I plant a dozen or more ‘Sun Gold’ cherry tomato plants each year, and each produces a bounty of rich, golden nuggets of flavor. What do I do with all those? I cut them in half and dry them in a food dehydrator, cut side up. When dry they will keep well in the pantry (or the freezer) in a wide-mouth quart jar. I toss a handful into every soup or stew I make.

Of course you can slice and dehydrate any kind of tomato. I have a friend who slices tomatoes, dries them until they are very crisp, and then grinds them in a food processor to make dried tomato flakes. She sprinkles the flakes into or on to a wide range of dishes. And she usually gives me a pint of them each year, which I treasure — I use it to add that mystical “umami” flavor to a dish.

A few words about food dehydrators. I have lots of experience with two good ones: NESCO American Harvest is a round dehydrator that will allow you to add many extra trays (up to 30, but with much increased drying time). NESCO dehydrators come with either top or bottom heat, so drying time is a bit uneven. The other is Excalibur, a square one with nine trays. These blow air across the trays, and everything gets dry at once. They both have thermostats and timers that will turn them off when desired.

I use my dehydrators for drying apples and pears that are great for snacking. I cut slices about 3/8 inch thick and bag them up for snacking while they are still chewy. It looks like I will have a great grape harvest this year, and I may try making raisins. Set temperature at 125 to 135 degrees so you don’t break down vitamins.

I also use a dehydrator for drying hot peppers until they are brittle, then I grind them up in my coffee grinder to make hot pepper powder. That way I can sprinkle a little or a lot into a recipe, depending on who will be sharing dinner with me — I like food spicy.

I make tomato paste each summer, but that is more like the hard work my grandmother did. I core the tomatoes and squeeze out excess juice and seeds, then cut them in half and drop into the Cuisinart. I run it until the tomatoes are a slurry. Then I pour the slurry into a heavy enameled cook pot. I heat it slowly, allowing the mixture to just slowly simmer (to avoid burning it).

It takes a couple of hours to fill the big kettle, and all evening for it to boil off the excess liquid. When I can literally stand up a soup spoon in the mix, I know it is thick enough. I leave the pot on the counter all night to let it cool and evaporate some more, and then in the morning I spoon the paste into ice cube trays and freeze. I put the cubes in bags or jars. It is nice to never need to remember to buy tomato paste — and to have a good use for damaged tomatoes that might otherwise end up in the compost. I cut out the bad spots, and use every one.

I have never gotten excited about making jams or jellies. But if you have a dedicated freezer for storage, you can cook your raspberries or blueberries with sugar and spices, then freeze them. The canning process is lengthy and messy, so I generally avoid it. If you just want a little jam, make three or four jars and store in the fridge. It will be as tasty and it gives you an excuse to spread some on ice cream, using it up before it gets moldy.

Of course, storing food is the easiest, cheapest way to eat the harvest long after it. Winter squashes like butternut and blue Hubbard store for months in a cool, dry location. They store well for months under the bed in a guest bedroom with the radiators turned off.

When digging potatoes or pulling onions, try to do it in a dry time (not hard this summer). Lower moisture levels are better for storage. Cure them for a few days in a breezy place out of the sun. Store potatoes, carrots, celeriac and rutabagas in a place between 35 and 50 degrees with high humidity. Garlic and onions like lower humidity with cool temperatures. Sweet potatoes should never go in the fridge; they need to be stored in a warm room like the kitchen.

I try to eat something I grew every day of the year, and mostly I do that. Dried herbs, garlic and frozen foods are always there for me to use, so I do.

Featured photo: A straw used to remove air from a bag of cherry tomatoes. Photo by Henry Homeyer.

Sensitive fern, interrupted fern, ostrich fern — take your pick

Many gardeners who focus on flowers and flowering shrubs are missing out on a beautiful and easy addition to their landscape: ferns. A few ferns are a bit aggressive and can elbow their way into flower beds uninvited, but most are polite and offer different textures and colors of foliage with little work.

One of my favorite ferns is the ostrich fern (Matteuccia struthiopteris). This is a big fern, with fronds up to 5 feet tall. Each fern tapers at both ends, and they arrange themselves like the feathers of a badminton birdie. Its most distinguishing characteristic is a groove like you see in a stalk of celery, up the middle of each frond on the topside. It also produces fronds that turn brown and produce the spores.

In the wild, the ostrich fern prefers moist, shady places, but it will grow almost anywhere that is not bone dry or in full sun. It will tolerate some sun and ordinary garden soil, but rich, moist soil is where it thrives. Ostrich fern will spread by rhizomes, adding about a square foot of territory to each plant per year. They also produce spores that can fly in the wind to expand their territory.

Although you can buy ostrich ferns, you may be able to transplant some from your own property, moving them in from the woods or field to a garden bed. I have successfully transplanted ostrich ferns using a long, narrow shovel called a drain spade or transplant shovel. I push the spade into the soil on a 45-degree angle to cut roots and loosen the soil in four places around it, then push down on the spade to pop the plant, roots and all, from the ground. Best to do on a cool day after a rain, if we ever see one!

Another great fern is the maidenhair fern (Adiantum pedatum). In the spring it comes up on what look like black wires, then produces almost horizontal fronds that are fan-shaped. In the wild it indicates good rich soil. Books say it does well in moist, shady soil, but I’ve had it for more than 20 years in dry shade. I think once established it is fine in dry shade, but I’d water it for the first year if in dry shade, or in drought times.

Maidenhair fern is commonly sold in nurseries. I have also grown it in a pot on our north-facing deck. In our garden, a plant (or three?) has created a clump that is 8 feet by 4 feet in 20 years, so it’s not a fast spreader.

Christmas fern (Polystichum acrostichoides): Unlike nearly all others, this fern stays green all winter and has very dark green leaves. It grows in free-form clusters and has simple leaves. The leaflets have a little bump (ear) near the base of each frond and are 1 to 3 feet long. In past times, it was commonly used by florists as a green to add to flower arrangements in winter, though that practice is no longer common as whole colonies were used up.

Sensitive fern (Onoclea sensibilis): This fern has light green leaves that are quite wide. Leaflet pairs are opposite each other (like a bow tie). Top-most leaflets are smooth; others have wavy edges. It is very frost-sensitive, hence the name. It often grows in big colonies, either in sun or shade. Can be a pest in the garden as it spreads by root. It is the only fern that I always pull out if it shows up in my garden as it spreads fast.

Interrupted fern (Osmunda claytoniana): This is a big fern with fronds up to 5 feet long in a vase-like arrangement. It will grow in wet or dry shade. When spores are produced, they interrupt the arrangement of leaflets with smaller spore-producing sections that are not like the other leaflets. But not all plants will have an interrupted section, so look at a colony to find some that do to confirm the I.D. The little leaflets that produce spores get dry and turn brown in mid-summer.

Another fern I like is the hay-scented fern (Dennstaedtia punctilobula). If you have crushed this fern and sniffed it, it smells like fresh-cut hay. It is finely cut and stays just 1 to 3 feet tall. It is one of the few that will grow in a hot, sunny spot such as a west-facing, sandy hillside, though it does grow in shade. It spreads quickly and will fill in an area, making a large colony. It will out-compete weeds and grasses in sunny locations.

Are you interested in learning about ferns? Many guides use lots of technical language that only fern scientists understand. One exception is Identifying Ferns the Easy Way: A Pocket Guide to Common Ferns of the Northeast by Lynn Levine. There are just 28 common ferns in the book, and there are silhouettes of each at the beginning of the book. The silhouettes are divided into six groups based on how the leaves are “cut.” So a quick look will identify most ferns, and the straightforward descriptions quickly confirm which fern you are looking at.

Observe where ferns grow in your woodlands, and try digging up some to put in a shady garden in your cultivated areas. Stop discriminating against ferns and give some a try!

Featured photo: Sensitive Fern. Photo by Henry Homeyer.

Quiet the first year, spectacular the second

Biennials are some of the least planted flowers we can grow. Why? The year they are planted by seed, they generally do not flower. They only have a clump of low-growing leaves. The second year, they send up a flower spike, bloom, and then die. That’s right. They have done their job of producing seeds, and then die. Gardeners prefer quick-blooming annuals, or long-lived perennials. Biennials are the least favored puppies of the litter.

On the other hand, some are worth the effort, or the wait. I love purple foxgloves (Digitalis purpurea). In the past, I was able to buy first-year plants in six-packs at a nursery, and planted them two years in a row. After they were finished blooming, I cut down the tall stems and shook out tiny black seeds over a flower bed that had been weeded, loosened and raked smooth. I patted down the seeds but did not cover them with soil. The tiny seeds just fell into crevices and waited for spring, when they started the growing cycle again.

It is important to know what the leaves of a first-year biennial look like so that seedlings do not get weeded out before getting established. I do that by trying to remember the color, texture or shape of the leaves. Often, color is my cue. So, for example, the biennial rose campion (Lychnis coronaria) has a distinctive gray leaf. I recognize the first-year plants, often growing in a cluster, and dig up some to divide and plant where I want them the following year, and to give them more space to grow.

Rose campion flowers are deep magenta, a truly spectacular color. The blossoms are an inch wide and are very profusely produced. Well worth planting if you can find plants for sale, or buy some seeds and wait for second-year blossoms.

Often biennial flowers are in the same genus as perennial plants. Closely related plants are grouped in the same genus (equivalent to your last name). The second name is the species (equivalent to your first name). So Lychnis is like “Jones” and coronaria is like “Susan.”

So for example, our common purple and pink foxglove (Digitalis purpurea) has relatives in the Digitalis genus. I grow two kinds, D. grandiflora and D. lutea. Both are yellow and both often start new plants by seed, so I have plenty. The latter one has smaller blossoms than the former one.

A biennial wildflower I just love is Queen Anne’s lace (Daucus carota). As the species name, carota, implies, it is in the carrot family. The tap roots are not as big as carrots, but the fragrance is about the same. But the root is white, while most carrots we eat are orange, though white, yellow, purple and red varieties are available. Anyhow, Queen Anne’s lace stands up tall (to 3 feet) and has an umbel or flat-topped cluster of tiny white blossoms, with purple ones in the center. It is a great cut flower in a vase. Young second-year plants are occasionally sold in six-packs in garden centers, and some of those are pink or even dark purple. Lovely.

Another way to get Queen Anne’s lace is to dig up first-year plants and transplant them on your property. They are commonly seen along the roadside and are free for the taking on rural roads. Mature Queen Anne’s lace has a tap root and is difficult to transplant.

Please note that poison hemlock is a related carrot-family plant. But unlike Queen Anne’s lace, it has smooth stems, not fuzzy ones, and has no purple center to the flower. It has purple blotches on the stems. The sap of hemlock can cause rashes when exposed to sunlight.

Perhaps my favorite biennial is angelica. Again there are biennial and perennial forms, but the biennial is the best. Its scientific name is Angelica gigas. It has huge purple or burgundy globes of small flowers, each globe 4 to 8 inches across. The plant stands up 4 to 6 feet tall with strong stems and big leaves.

The best thing about the plant is this: It is an absolute gem of a pollinator plant. When I last grew it, it often had three or more bees on it at once. Unfortunately, it is hard to find in plant nurseries, and when I have found it, it was a big second-year plant in a 2-gallon pot that cost me at least $15. Yikes. I tried planting seeds after blooming, but did not save any for spring planting. I got no plants from my meager efforts, but I will buy seeds now and try starting some plants next spring.

Most plant books list hollyhocks (Alcea rosea) as biennials, though some consider them half-hardy perennials. One plantsman told me that the plants with leaves the shape of fig leaves are more perennial than others. This is a tall plant, sometimes 6 to 8 feet tall, that has open-throated 2- to 3-inch blossoms that come in a variety of colors from white to pink, red, yellow and nearly black, often with a yellow center.

Hollyhocks do best in rich, moist soil in full sun. But they will also grow in part shade. They open their buds in sequence up the stem over a period of four to six weeks. When they’re done blooming, cut them to the ground immediately. I believe that makes them wonder if they have produced seeds, and come back the next year to finish the job. They do show up uninvited in the garden, and I always welcome them.

Featured photo: Purple Foxgloves bloom from bottom of the stem to the top. Photo by Henry Homeyer.

Think ahead and don’t buy on impulse

First, August is not the best time for planting trees. Most experts suggest spring or fall when it is cooler and rain more regular. But let’s face it, I’m a gardener, and if I see a nice tree for sale, especially one in bloom or one I’ve been looking for, I am going to get it, no matter what the experts say. And I bet many of you do the same.

I confess to acquiring four trees in late July. I bought three that I had been looking for, and I got a nice one as a gift. And since I have these new trees, I am not going to keep them in their pots until fall. I will plant them, and water them daily, if needed, through the heat of summer. They will do better in the ground than in a pot where roots can easily dry out on hot days. I have planted a few trees and shrubs in my garden this summer, and all are doing fine.

If you are planning on buying trees, allow me to give you some advice. First, NO IMPULSE BUYING! Learn everything you can about the particular tree you are considering well before you buy it. There are books and websites by universities or botanic gardens that provide excellent information. I suggest avoiding websites of companies selling trees. Talk to knowledgeable friends. Ask questions.

Of the tree books on my shelves, I depend most commonly on books written by Michael Dirr. A retired professor, he has been learning about trees and testing trees and talking to growers for more than 50 years. All his books are readable, dependable — and opinionated. His classic is Manual of Woody Landscape Trees: Their Identification, Culture, Propagation and Uses.

At nearly 1,200 pages, his Manual really does cover every tree I have ever wanted to learn about. It’s not flashy: there are no glossy photos to drool over. Just line drawings of the leaves for most species, and lots of good info. If you want a copy, it lists for $81.80 for the most recent (sixth) paperback edition from Stipes Publishing. Or get your library to order one. Secondhand copies are probably available, too.

So start by seeing what the hardiness of a tree is. No point in buying a tree you remember from your time living in North Carolina unless it is hardy in your zone, too, which it might well be. Then look at what he calls culture: soil, pH and sun/shade requirements.

Read what Dr. Dirr says about size. He generally tells you how big a tree will get in the garden, how fast it grows, and the biggest size known. Let that be a guide. It is so easy to buy a small tree and plant it without really thinking what it will be like in 50 years. I remember a little evergreen growing in front of our house when I was growing up. When we bought the` house in 1954, we decorated it with Christmas lights. Then in later years we used a stepladder to put more lights on. By the time I left for college, it was nearly as tall as the two-story house — and blocking the view from some windows.

So before buying a new tree, try to see what a mature specimen looks like in your town or state. Go to a public park or arboretum (a zoo, of sorts, for trees). Pay attention to the width of the tree, not just the height.

Looking in a forest to see how close trees grow together is not the answer. Trees are wonderful, and many people have done research on how trees communicate with each other (see The Hidden Life of Trees: What They Feel, How the Communicate, a New York Times bestseller in 2016 by Peter Wohlleben), but they aren’t very smart (by our standards, at least). And they don’t plan very well. Where a seed lands, it will try to grow — even if it is right next to another tree, or in a shady place where it will not thrive.

Some years ago I planted a spicebush (Lindera benzoin). This is a native shrub that thrives in the shade, even in dry shade. It has fragrant, spicy leaves, twigs and berries. I used to chew on the twigs when I was a boy in lieu of chewing gum, which was prohibited by my parents. Dr. Dirr says it grows 6 to 12 feet high “with a similar spread.” Mine now is 6 to 8 feet high with an 8-foot spread. My new specimens are in two-gallon pots, just 24 inches tall. I was about to plant them 3 or 4 feet apart, but stopped myself. If a mature tree is 8 feet wide, it is 4 feet from the center of the tree to the outside. So a pair of them should be about 8 feet apart, or at least 6.

In the past two years I’ve been working to develop a private arboretum on what was a 5-acre lawn, now a meadow. Last summer we planted about 100 native trees and shrubs of many species, including a dozen oaks of various kinds and sizes. It’s a five-year project.

A mature oak can be 75 feet tall with a spread of 50 feet or more. But I did not plant them 50 feet apart. I want the roots to interact, sharing nutrients and knowledge. And in a storm, intertwined roots can help prevent trees from toppling over. So I planted most about 30 feet apart. I’ve seen oaks in a meadow like the one I’ve been planting: the branches between trees touched but did not intrude on their neighbors. On the sides facing the meadow, the branches were longer. Yes, somehow they communicate.

So feel free to wait until the weather is cooler and rain more frequent to plant new trees. But if you must plant now, keep everything well-watered!

Featured photo: Spicebush is a great native shade shrub. Courtesy photo.

Don’t sunburn your fig leaves, and other advice

Just like kids on school vacation, your houseplants may want to go outside to play. And like your kids, don’t put them out in full sun all day without sunscreen. Well, there is no SPF 30 for houseplants, so you will have to make other accommodations.

If you haven’t brought out your houseplants, you may want to consider it now. Plants have widely differing needs for light, and many houseplants are popular because they can sit on a table in the living room without any direct light. These will do best on a covered porch for the summer, not on a sunny deck.

But even plants that thrive outdoors in full sun need to be introduced to the outdoors slowly. I have a potted fig tree that I bring into the house each winter. It drops its leaves and takes a snooze, so I keep it in a cold basement, which it seems to like. I water it once a month during the winter as the low humidity indoors would desiccate its roots if I didn’t give it a little water. Then in March I bring the fig upstairs into a cool, bright room. Soon its buds swell, and it produces leaves.

When all danger of frost is past, I bring our fig outside and put it on the deck we have on the north side of the house that just gets morning sun. After a couple of weeks of morning sun, I bring it down to the lower deck, which gets more sun, and it generally rewards me with a few tasty figs before frost. This year I put it into afternoon sun too early, and the leaves showed signs of sunburn. They yellowed, and a few got brown edges. It will recover, but it just reminds me how sensitive leaves are to strong sun. It may punish me with no figs this year.

If you are interested in growing figs, you should get a copy of Lee Reich’s book Growing Figs in Cold Climates. It covers cultivar selection, over-wintering and pruning techniques, even how to tell when your figs are ripe. It’s in paperback and is fully illustrated with nice photos. Lee lives in upper New York State and was an Associated Press garden writer until he recently retired. Check out his website and blog at www.leereich.com.

My potted banana tree has been outdoors on my north-facing deck for several weeks, and I keep edging it further out into the sun from time to time. It is a tropical plant and can take lots of sun, but once again, I am careful not to shock it with too much sun too early on. Unlike my fig tree, I bought it knowing that the banana is never going to produce fruit. But I love its big, wide leaves and that it brings up memories of my time in Africa as a Peace Corps volunteer.

If you have your houseplants outdoors, be sure that they are not getting over-watered by Mother Nature. When we got an inch and a half of rain I went around to look at my houseplants that are sitting in saucers and drained off excess water. Water in a saucer will get soaked up into a pot by capillary action or even greedy roots that sneak out through holes in the bottom of a pot. Most houseplants don’t need as much water as garden plants, and continually wet roots tend to rot.

What about insects getting on your houseplants if you let them outdoors? Yes, you probably will get some aphids on them. But other insects like ladybugs will probably keep them in check all summer. You will need to give your plants a brisk shower with the hose at the end of the summer to wash off any remaining aphids and/or their eggs. Or you can spray them with a dilute soap solution that will kill the aphids. Things like “Safer” brand insect killing soap are safe and approved for organic gardeners. It dissolves the fats in their outer shell, and they dehydrate and die.

Scale insects are another pest your houseplants may encounter while enjoying their life outside, though you can get them inside, too. Scale insects are a group of some 8,000 species of insects that suck sap from your plants, and may excrete honeydew that attracts a black mold that you might notice first.

Most scale insects are small, under a quarter of an inch in size, and have a wax mono-shell that covers them as they suck the plant’s juices. The shell can be one of many different colors. But if you see them early on, you can get rid of them easily by wiping them with a cotton ball soaked in rubbing alcohol. I have only gotten them once.

Can you take your houseplants out of their pots and put them in the ground? You bet. But if you do, they will get bigger during the summer, and may not fit into their pots, come fall, or not so easily. But if you don’t mind potting up plants, and want your geraniums, for example, to really thrive, plant a few in the ground. Real soil and sun? It’s what houseplants dream of.

Featured photo: This fig leaf got sunburned and will never recover. Photo by Henry Homeyer.

Thin out some crops, grab some garlic

Heat descended on us recently like opening the door to a roaring wood stove. The old adage about colonial India was, “Only mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the noonday sun.” I think that applies here, too. I, for one, have no desire to work in the garden when temperatures get to be in the 80s or more.

My strategy is to go to bed earlier, and get up at 6 a.m., or even earlier if I can. In general I’m not a morning person. I like coffee, the newspaper in my hands, and a leisurely breakfast. But with the heat, I feel a need to see what plants need some water, and what veggies should be picked early in the day.

The most vulnerable plants are those that have just been transplanted or installed. I recently moved some small Swiss chard plants from a somewhat shady place to a raised bed in full sun. Gravity works on water, not just Newton’s apple. Raised beds tend to drain of water and dry out faster than beds in the ground. The soil is warmer, too. So those Swiss chard seem to need water every day now.

I can reduce my need to water that raised bed by mulching it well. I’ve mulched the rest of my vegetable garden with four to six pages of newspaper, covered with straw or hay. That is primarily for keeping the weeds down, but it also reduces the need for watering. But the raised bed was built later, and I haven’t mulched it yet. Gotta get on it!

I also regularly water a bed of zinnias that were only planted by seed in June. Anytime you plant seeds, you should water daily until they germinate to avoid drying out the seeds at a critical time. And when the plants are small, they need regular watering, too.

We have thinned all our root crops by now, which is important. If you haven’t, you should. Carrots, beets, parsnips, radishes and rutabagas need room to grow — an inch, at least, from their nearest neighbors. You can eat the small vegetables you pull. The leaves of beets are a tasty treat when steamed lightly and served with butter.

I’m harvesting garlic now, too. Not the entire crop as yet. I just pull one or two for cooking as needed. I’ll pull them all in August when the leaves start to brown up. When I pull the main harvest I leave the tops on and hang them in the cellar upside down to cure. I’ve read that the bulbs will absorb additional nutrients from the leaves and stem while they cure.

Fresh garlic is nearly impossible to peel. I just use a sharp paring knife to make two slices into a bulb — one on each side of a clove. When it pops out, I can peel off the outer layers and insert the clove into a press, or smash it with the wide blade of a French kitchen knife and then chop it finely.

I’m often asked if cutting off scapes, those curly tops of garlic, helps to grow bigger, better bulbs of garlic. I’ve been experimenting with that for years, and don’t see a significant difference. So I cut off scapes to use in stir-fries, salads or stews, but don’t bother to remove them all.

I picked a few ‘Early Girl’ tomatoes in mid-July this year, which is early, even for them. Although I started almost all my tomatoes by seed in April, I did buy a few bigger plants to get those early tomatoes. Next up will be my ‘Blue Beauty’ tomatoes, which I did start by seed indoors. They are a gorgeous deep purple, with green at the bottom. When the green turns red and they soften up, they will be ready to pick.

For once I have planted lettuce regularly all summer, so I have had enough to eat and to share. And I have lots of small plants to transplant and separate. I recommend that you plant some lettuce seeds directly in the ground now for early fall eating, and in a month, do it again. Mark your calendar! After all, some spaces will be opening up in the garden as you harvest radishes, peas, beets and more. Look for heat-resistant or hot-weather lettuce varieties like Adriana, Monte Carlo or Red Cross — all available from Johnny’s Seeds. Cool-weather lettuce quickly bolts in August heat.

I am picking heads of broccoli now. But the best is yet to come. I once made a little garden in the lawn for an elderly friend, and planted two broccoli plants there. Unfortunately, my friend pulled out the broccoli once they had yielded their first big heads. Little did she know that broccoli will send out side shoots, smaller spears of broccoli, for the rest of the summer and fall! Just keep on picking. And if the side shoots start to open with yellow blossoms, pick and eat them anyway. They will still be tasty.

I seem to be having a great year for potatoes (I have not seen a single potato bug), and should have plenty to eat and share. I planted 100 chunks of potato, and each plant should give me one to two pounds of spuds. I will start harvesting a few after they have blossomed. I like to slip my hand under a plant and “steal” a potato or two for dinner before I start the harvest. If you grow potatoes, be sure to let your children or grandkids help you when you harvest them. All kids are excited by the buried treasure!

So beat the heat: Get up early and go out to your garden. There is always something to do.

Featured photo: Raised beds need more water than plant in the ground. Photo by Henry Homeyer.

Wild parsnips burn and buttercups run rampant

This is the time of year when wild parsnips are in full bloom. They stand anywhere from 2 to 6 feet tall and are topped with clusters of tiny flowers facing upward and arranged in a flat cluster called an umbel. The blossoms are similar to those on Queen Anne’s lace, but yellow.

Avoid wild parsnips because you can get terrible burns from the sap of this plant. When the sap on you is hit by bright sunshine, most people develop painful blisters. This is unfortunate, as this common plant is spread by seed, often creating large patches in fields and along roadsides. If you get sap on you, wash it off with soap and water immediately, cover the area, and stay out of direct sunshine for 48 hours.

How can you get rid of wild parsnips? Wild parsnips are biennials, meaning they die after blooming in their second year. I’ve read that mowing a patch of them right after they bloom (but before they produce seeds) will get rid of them, but only if you do this for three to five years. Presumably the repeated mowing is needed to kill plants that come back from seeds that did not germinate in Year 1.

Giant hogweed (Heracleum mantegazzianum) is in the same family as parsnips but is bigger, harder to get rid of and even more toxic. I saw it for sale some 20 years ago and was intrigued by its size (6 to 12 feet tall) and blossoms that are up to 3 feet across. I bought it and planted it, having been told that it was not a perennial, though it is.

Even though I didn’t know its sap could cause burns, I quickly decided that giant hogweed was not a plant I wanted. It popped up 50 feet away from where I planted it, and could grow in full sun or full shade, wet soil or dry. I decided it had potential to take over.

At first I just cut off the flower heads before they produced seeds, but in Year 2 or 3 I decided to pull it by the roots. I was lucky that I was able to get out the roots, which can go down 2 feet or more. And even more fortunately, either I did not get sap on me or I am not allergic to it. It is not widely distributed in New England, though it is a real pest in parts of California and elsewhere.

I was less fortunate when it came to getting rid of the Japanese butterbur (Petasites japonicus) I purchased long ago. I was told that yes, it could run, but it was easy to contain with a lawnmower or a stream. Not so. This plant can send roots 20 feet or more, then send up new plants. It is an aggressive plant that will smother almost any other. It likes moisture, and does well in shade as well as sun.

Depending on the variety, this plant can produce clumps of huge leaves that stand up to five feet tall. It has small flowers that erupt from the soil before the leaves. The roots go down deep and break easily, making it tough to remove. In its native Japan it is considered an edible, but I have no interest in eating it.

I have lost control of our Japanese butterbur. It crossed the stream and has gone under the lawn to other beds, and generally become a pest. Even though it is interesting to look at, enough is enough! I wish I had never bought it!

Another pest I have will surprise you, perhaps: buttercups (Ranunculus repens). Like some of the others mentioned above, at first I welcomed this bright harbinger of spring that displays cheerful yellow blossoms. But it has become a problem because it spreads not only by root but by seed, and once established it is difficult to weed out. And it will choke out other plants. It is glorious in bloom, but very tenacious. If you have moist, rich soil in part shade, watch out. I’d advise removing it early before it starts crowding out other plants. This one is native to Europe, but there are native species that are not a problem, I am told.

Years ago a friend gave me some iris that had the roots of goutweed (Aegopodium podagraria) tangled in with the iris roots. It quickly took over the iris bed, choking out everything else. A native of Asia and parts of Europe, it can form a dense mat that outcompetes everything else. The roots are brittle, and thus hard to remove. Even a scrap of root can start a new plant.

I dug out all the goutweed, took away the soil down to 12 inches and replaced the soil after putting down a heavy weed mat. Still, five years later it crawled out from under the mat. If you have it, accept you will probably always have it, though with persistence and a good weeding tool, it is possible to control. But I wouldn’t buy a house that has it!

A variegated form of goutweed called “Snow on the Mountains” has green and white leaves and was sold as a groundcover in the past. But sometimes it reverts back to the more aggressive all-green form and tries to take over the world. So avoid both forms.

Let’s face it: Plants take advantage of us if they can. We like good-looking, interesting plants, so they put on a good show. But among the good ones, there are those aggressive thugs that deserve no mercy. All you can do is be attentive and act quickly when a new plant starts to take over your gardens.

Featured photo: Goutweed will outcompete any other plants and is difficult to eradicate