Winter Sowing

I’m going to sow seeds outdoors, this week — really. If you’re imagining me pushing a snow shovel across the veggie garden to get to the soil, forget it. I won’t be in the garden as most of the process takes place indoors.

I’ll be winter sowing, and compared to growing seedlings indoors or under lights, it’s less finicky and costs almost nothing. Winter sowing produces tough, sturdy plants, unlike the weak-kneed specimens grown on a windowsill. You can start tomorrow or anytime over the next couple of months.

Most annuals and familiar perennials, and cool season vegetables can be winter sown, but you won’t have any luck with tender plants or exotic species. A good choice are plants that are referred to as hardy, or come with instructions to direct sow outside in fall or in early spring. These are plants that would normally cast their seed in fall, and then sprout up the moment conditions are right. Sure, many may be considered weeds in the garden, however in my garden they’re more likely to be popular garden plants that I grew the previous year. I look on these as free plants — or grandchildren.

When we grow plants indoors, some seeds come with instructions for special treatment that simulates what they typically experience in their normal outdoor environment. They have to be soaked for a time or scarified, that is, nicking or using sandpaper to wear down the hard husk. 

Others have to be given a spell in the freezer for the purpose of cold stratification. This freezing and thawing or cool dampness outdoors is what breaks down the tough husk of the seed, allowing it to germinate. To reproduce the same process indoors can be tedious and not always reliable.  Winter sowing takes care of this naturally.

You’ll be pleased to hear there’s no need to go tramping through the snow, but simply plant seeds in jugs and set them on the deck or patio. All you need are a few clear or opaque containers, soil and seeds. Gallon jugs are perfect, and all those windshield washer jugs are fine, just rinse well. Some gardeners use two litre water bottles. I really like the large water dispenser bottles.

First, drill or cut a few small holes in the bottom of the container. This is to allow excess water to drain but not so large that the soil could fall out. If the container has only a very narrow opening, make a couple of extra holes or cuts near the top to allow for air circulation. Next step is to slice open the container about two thirds up on three sides, leaving one side (or a small section if the container is round) to act as a hinge.

Now place soil in the container. Garden soil is fine, but you don’t want to be out digging in the garden at the moment. Most any potting soil will do. Moisten the soil then sow your seed. Cover them as per packet instructions, or if unsure, about the same as the diameter of the seed. Close up the container and tape it shut along the sides but leave the screw cap off. Now all you have to do is set them outdoors.

If snow buries them, don’t worry. A little snow will fall in and that’s okay too, however, check occasionally to be sure the soil hasn’t dried out or become waterlogged. If the weather is especially warm in early spring, remove the tape and open the containers for a while during the day. As the seeds sprout in early spring, you can open them up and leave them open. When the seedlings are large enough they can be planted in the garden.

There, you’re almost gardening already. What a great start to the new year.

A Very Prickly Christmas

Maybe it was the six poinsettias I had to stare at for two hours and thirty-three minutes while sitting in a greasy waiting room as my car had its annual oil change, or the Vegas style Christmas lights that can now be seen from space. This must be why I've been feeling nostalgic for a time when decorating for the season was a simpler, heartwarming experience.

Every year at this time, when I was a little sprout, my dad would take us holly gathering. It was such an exciting event, gathering berry laden sprigs to brighten the house at Christmas. Of course, in those days we were blithely ignorant of the times ahead when Christmas decorating would be raised to a unique art form with plastic penguins, inflatable Santas, and flashing flamingos.

Each December we’d make the trek to our secret wood where the holly trees grew, hoping to discover a bounty of berries. We weren’t always lucky; some years there would be a good crop, with lush clumps clinging to each twig on the tree, while other years there would be hardly a speck of red to be seen. My dad always blamed the berry vultures — I don’t know if he meant birds or the people who’d been there before us.

Even in the best of years, only half the trees would bear any berries at all. Having only a limited understanding of procreation, we didn’t realize that only the female holly bears berries while, as usual, the male hangs around taking up useful space. Now that I’m older and wiser, I realize the lack of berries was likely due to SOMEONE not in the mood.

Nonetheless, collecting was never easy. Holly has wicked prickles, and you could be sure the best sprigs were always at the top of the tree, at the outer limits, barely within reach. Since we had no concept of a limb lopper, someone had to climb the tree.

“Go ahead, Dad,” I’d say, after yet another prickly plunge from the tree, “Show me one more time. Maybe next year I’ll be able to do it.” In this way the ancient tradition of holly gathering was slowly passed down through our family.

Yes, holly gathering was a challenge, but it was worth the struggle. At Christmas, friends and family would visit our home simply to admire our lovely sprig of holly, burdened with two, maybe three berries. Meanwhile, Mum would serve mince pies and Dad would lie on the couch, groaning, band-aids stuck to his face, a mustard plaster taped to his back.

Ah, yes, the good old days. I often wonder what Dad would have thought of inflatable Santas.

The Secret Superpower of Geraniums

The tiresome Japanese beetle has been busy doing its thing again, tormenting gardeners. The first time I encountered them in my garden I tried to look upon the Boston ivy as a greenish lace curtain draped over the fence. It didn’t work. There was no avoiding the realization that the leaves had been shredded by Japanese beetles.

Last year it was the hazel and by the time I noticed it was too late and the poor tree suffered the same treatment. There were just too many to deal with, and besides, they were out of reach. Other times these shiny brown and green beetles with locust-like appetites have appeared on my roses where at least they’re easy to spot and it’s easy to shake them off into a pail of soapy water. That’s about the most effective way to dispatch them. Sadly, for some gardeners, so many show up to feast they’d need to set up a dishwasher in the back yard and herd them in. So far this year I’ve only seen two and used the quick and simple squishing technique — ugh.

Maybe the winter was hard on the grubs, or enough lovely starlings fed well when on lawn patrol. That’s where the beetles begin their life cycle. After they’ve done eating, they mate, then the female lays eggs in a handy lawn, especially one where the where soil is moist. The following spring, eggs develop into grubs that feed on grass roots, pupate, then emerge as hungry adults in July and take off to the nearest food source, but only when conditions are right. They prefer to take flight when the air is clear, calm, humidity is high, and the temperature between 29 C and 35 C.

It’s at the grub stage in lawns where some control can be achieved by an application of nematodes, but to be effective, correct time of application, weather, and specific soil temperature must all coincide. Even then, it’s of little help if yours is the only lawn in the area to be treated.

You might be wondering why these voracious pests haven’t defoliated their homeland by now. In Japan they’re seen only as a minor pest, simply because of a difference in gardening culture. The country isn’t blanketed with lawns the way North America is, and that means far fewer places accommodate the lifecycle of the grubs.

There are traps available to limit damage, and they work extremely well, or sort of. They attract the beetles with two types of baits or pheromones, a sex one to attract the males and a flowery one to tempt both male and female. The drawback is they can attract thousands of beetles and as they pass over your garden on their incoming flight path, enough of them will stop off for a quick feed and anything else they might have in mind. No harm in trying with traps. Better still, convince all your neighbours to install a few.

The most effective solution, though not the easiest, is to gradually replace any plants and trees that the beetles are attracted to, and there are over 300 species. There are even more that they’ll never bother, and if that’s the route you choose to take, a quick search online will provide lists of both.

One
more possible way to limit the damage the beetles do, is to plant geraniums, lots of them. Research by a couple of scientists confirmed anecdotal reports that geraniums (pelargoniums) are toxic to these pests. After feeding on the flowers, the study showed the beetles became paralysed for up to 16 hours, however, it didn’t finish them off. When they recovered, they went back for more. Made them easier to pick off, I suppose, but it might take a lawn full of geraniums to provide any relief. Other anecdotal reports suggested the same effect occurred when beetles fed on flowers of bottlebrush buckeye (Aesculus parviflora), but when tested, no adverse effects were observed.

Nature does have a way of challenging us, so for now it looks like I’ll continue picking and squishing, at least until balance is restored.  

Gardens and Gardeners are Thawing Out

Robins are making an reluctant appearance and squirrels are active, so it must be Spring. But it’s a slow process in the garden. Spring doesn’t so much begin with warm sunny days; it begins in the dark, deep in the soil as the ground thaws

Sunshine may warm the top few inches of soil, enough for snow drops and crocuses, but the frost recedes more as the residual heat from the earth pushes upwards. Not until the soil reaches an optimal temperature do the roots wake up and begin feeding sap upwards. When the air is warm enough, it continues to flow, buds swell, leaves sprout and spring really arrives. And that will be another week or so.

Gardeners however, have been thawed out for some time and can’t wait to act on their plans and dreams. For many, it will be their first venture into the world of gardening, whether it’s a few containers on a deck, a flower bed, or a raised bed for vegetables.

That concept has taken off, especially among young people eager to grow fresh veggies in the backyard. Depending on soil conditions gardeners have always raised their beds above surrounding soil levels. It’s done to ensure good drainage, or simply because there isn’t sufficient existing soil in the typical backyard. Often there’s only a few inches provided to sustain grass, and not without copious amounts of water and annual fertilizing.

By raising and enclosing the bed it becomes in effect a large planter, suitable for a small backyard where space is at a premium. These are usually built with lumber, although other materials can be used. Cedar, redwood or cypress are good, though pricey choices — it’s a long payback term for a few tomatoes and carrots. Low grade lumber won’t last long before deteriorating but it can be okay if it’s only going to be in use for a limited time.

Pressure treated lumber is no longer treated with arsenic as it used to be, and from what I’ve been able to determine there are no issues with the copper compounds that are currently used,
however, I’d still be inclined to line the wood with polyethylene film. Cement blocks or old logs, though not as tidy, will also do the trick.

The bed can be any length, but a metre and a half wide (four feet) allows for easy access without having to step in. This avoids compacting the soil as everything is within easy reach for planting, weeding, or harvesting. As for depth, a minimum of 20 centimeters (eight inches) is fine, although the bed can be built much higher if the old back is getting creaky.

As for soil, regular top soil can be suitable depending on the source and consistency. Sandy soil drains quickly and has fewer nutrients while clay soil is richer and holds moisture longer, but it’s heavy and compacts easily. Both these soil types are improved by adding organic matter such as manure, compost, or leaves.

A popular alternative is triple mix. There isn’t a standard composition, but it’s typically a friable blend of regular soil, peat moss, and other organic matter. As the organic matter breaks down, the soil will settle and eventually need topping up.

Contained raised beds do tend to dry out faster than a regular bed, so watch for that. Adding mulch will save on water and reduce the need for weeding. One big advantage often touted is that the soil warms up faster in spring, allowing for an earlier start, however, keep in mind that it will cool off just as fast in fall.

Meanwhile gardeners, stay cool, real Spring will soon arrive.

Don't Quit Yet.

Don’t quit now! Even though there might have been a little frost about, September and October are perfect gardening months. Cooler temperatures and no bugs make working in the garden a pleasure.

Gardening is fun — really, and the benefits are endless. It’s obviously a source of joy and satisfaction given the way people flock to garden centres in spring, but then spring gives way to summer and the concept of gardening for fun is set aside. It’s too hot and buggy, and the beach or cottage beckons. Then fall arrives; the grass turns green again and begins to grow, which means more mowing, and before you know it, there are leaves to rake.

But there are lots of other things to accomplish at this time of year. Fall is just as good as spring is for planting, even better in some cases, especially for trees and shrubs. They love this season, yet I’d hazard a guess that 70 – 80 percent are planted in spring compared to fall. Part of the reason is the natural inclination for gardeners to get out and do something in the garden, but it’s also because of the strong marketing that goes on, plus the plants look alive. They have green leaves and plenty of flowers, whereas at this time of year they might look dead.

Don’t be fooled. Trees and shrubs — and perennials, are going into dormancy rather than coming out — perfect for planting, whereas in May, just as the poor tree or shrub at the garden centre pops a few leaves, it’s tossed in a trunk or truck, shipped across town, dumped from the pot and stuffed into a hole in the ground. Someone runs the hose on it — when they remember — or they drown it, then it’s left to survive on its own while it bakes under a blazing sun. The poor plant has used what energy it had to pop those leaves, and now it’s supposed to grow new roots to support itself, with precious little help? For a tree, it’s the worst time to begin multi-tasking.

Plant a tree in early fall and what happens? Soon as it’s in the ground, the leaves fall off. But that’s okay. It’s not dead; it’s not even dying. Despite its appearance, it’s probably flourishing. Since it doesn't have to shove out leaves and impress the planter, it can focus on what plants do best in fall — they grow roots. The soil is warm, the sun is kinder, and there’s usually more moisture available.

With the help of a layer of mulch, the soil will stay warm enough to encourage roots to grow for months, even as late as December. Come spring, after a good spell of root growth, the tree or shrub will be bursting to produce leaves. One important note here, evergreens, unlike deciduous trees, lose moisture over winter, so they need to be well watered before freeze-up.

What’s even better about planting in fall is the price. Plant material is always less expensive. There’s a good reason for this. It costs money to store plants at a garden centres or nurseries due to the huge amount of work required to prepare containers for winter. In some cases, it’s necessary to provide heating. They’d much rather sell the stuff and restock in spring.

Everything I've said about trees and shrubs goes for perennials. They’re cheaper too and most will appreciate fall planting. If there’s an exception, it’s plants that flower in early spring. They may be reluctant, but then they probably won’t flower much in the first year anyway.

So, take a trip to the garden centre where deceptively dead looking plants and great deals are waiting, then get out in the garden and have a little fun. 

Genuine examples of passionate (mad) gardeners:

I have to stop at every garden centre in town including home improvements stores. I spend winters slobbering over seed catalogues and doodling garden designs on everything in sight, including the kid’s homework. I rip up every inch of the yard millions of times over till I am happy with the outcome.

All my trees have people names, so friends think I always have friends to talk to when I say "Yesterday, I was speaking to Paul about the dry weather" (Paul is a 70-year-old twisted hazelnut tree!).

Balancing on one crutch, digging holes to plant tomatoes in June.

I will go out to the garden in the morning in my PJs to see how everything is. I stop to pick a weed (or so I think), and I'm still there in my PJs at two in the afternoon, still in my PJs.

I bought four coleus plants eight months ago. I couldn't even spell propagation, and now I have 400 of the little devils!

I don't usually keep secrets from my husband, but I never show him my receipt when returning from the gardening center.

I think moving 300 or so plants from one house to another counts!

The dirt under my nails is layered in strata.  My favorite cologne is eau de earth.  I garden by flashlight.

I never met a plant I didn't want.

I talk to my plants and play classical music for them.

My husband is crying "No more flowers, no more flowery dishes, no more of flowery wallpaper, " but I can't hear because I’m in the winter garden preparing for more flowers!

I pull more weeds in other people's gardens than I do in my own.

I think moving 300 or so plants from one house to another makes me a mad gardener!

Growing . . . growing old, excited, cuttings, seeds, happy, fatter, dirtier, smarter. Gardening madness helps me to grow all these and many more!
Let's just say, my husband often brings out a shop light so that I can continue to see what I'm doing.

Obsessed! That’s what my family says I am.  I am determined to eradicate every blade of grass from our Florida lawn and replace it with plants for birds and butterflies.

I have childhood memories of being in the car with Mom on the way to nurseries, her knuckles whiter on the steering wheel, speedometer clicking ever higher, breath coming faster . . . I don’t really think of myself as mad, just that I'm a bit like my mother.

Getting up at 3 am to widen a border so the family didn't catch me removing yet more lawn. I'm banned from doing that.

There isn’t a bare spot in my house. I have plants on every surface — tables, chairs, floors, windowsills, husband’s bar, everywhere. There’s no lawn left. I’ve even moved onto my neighbor’s property.

I am obsessed . . . can't think about anything much other than my garden. Hard to pass the garden centres without stopping in to see if a plant says "take me home."

I spend more time thinking of and planning where I can use or obtain more plants than I spend on what to have for dinner.