The Kale Stands Alone

Written on November 24, 2009 at 9:55 am, by Doug Jimerson

By the time Thanksgiving rolls around, my garden looks like a 1930s black-and-white photo. That’s why I’m thrilled with the last beacons of color from the flowering kale that’s brighter now than when I planted it last spring. The leaves are a bit ragged around the edges (after all, we’ve had snow already!), and the plants are a little leggy, but the color is amazing: vivid pink and blue-green. A Technicolor touch in the monochromatic landscape.

Funny thing is, I’ve never been a fan of ornamental kale. They always seemed too gaudy and only appropriate for fall planting. Even when I found two plants, like stray kittens, sitting on a cart outside of my office last April with a sign saying “free plants,” I wasn’t tempted. Editor Luke Miller had used them as photo shoot props for a story in his magazine Garden Ideas and Outdoor Living. All day long people with spring on their minds passed by the small, orphaned kale. Finally as I was leaving for the day, I took pity on them, brought them home and poked them into an out-of-the-way corner in the garden.

As summer progressed, I turned a blind eye as cabbage looper caterpillars chewed lacy holes in their ruffled leaves. But somehow, the kale held their own. As summer turned to fall, and the rest of the garden faded from successive frosts, the kale got brighter, more vivid. And now those two orphaned kale are the last plants standing in my garden. And, I have to admit they are looking darn good.

So, I’ve made a note for next year’s planting list: plant kale in the spring for big fall color.

Help Save a Tree—Today Only!

Written on November 23, 2009 at 11:55 am, by Luke Miller

Just got word that the city of Kewanee, Illinois, is scheduled to cut down an historical Osage-orange tree tomorrow (Tuesday, Nov. 24). Why care? Because it is the sole remaining tree of an original hedge row planted in 1840. Yes, BEFORE the Civil War!

The tree is leaning and there are concerns about safety. However, arborists point out that it has been leaning for decades (see photos below) without causing problems. Osage-orange trees have interweaving fibers that resist splitting, making them very strong. “Its density and shear strength are among the highest of all Temperate Zone trees,” says arborist and author Guy Sternberg. “This modifies all the standard rules about hazard evaluation…”

Supporters of the tree are asking that the removal be postponed until other options have been considered.  Those options include pruning and cabling to alleviate perceived safety issues. At the very least, scion wood should be saved so this historical tree can be cloned.

If you would like to help save this tree, contact the Kewanee city manager (click here for contact info).

Yes, they really do exist in the wild

Written on November 23, 2009 at 9:03 am, by Eric Liskey

You’ve heard of the proverbial kid who, when asked if he knew where milk comes from, said: “Of course. It comes from the store!”

Do you ever wonder where some plants come from? Or, more accurately, where they came from?  Many, though certainly not all, of the plants we commonly grow in landscapes are native to the Old World. When Europeans settled the New World, they brought these plants with them. Maybe that’s why so many Americans go through their lives never having seen the original native types—they’re native to  somewhere else! (And I may be one of the geeky minority that actually spends time wondering about it, but that’s another issue.)

On a recent jaunt up an Italian hillside, I came across this. (If  you’re thinking Better Homes and Gardens pays its editors to travel Europe,  think again! This was just a personal vacation.) Most of you will have no trouble recognizing it. Cylamen, growing wild. It was very common in the area, and quite lovely. Not as big as the florist types you see in shops, but just as colorful. It’s fun to see plants in their native environment, unhybridized, uncivilized. And I think it helps people make the connection between what grows in their gardens and nature. Gardens are just collections of pieces of nature, pulled together in a pleasing way. Tamed, but nature nonetheless. It’s good to remember. It gives you new perspective on what’s growing outside your door.

greens from the garden

Written on November 20, 2009 at 9:58 am, by Denny Schrock

You can have fresh greens from the garden on the table for Thanksgiving dinner, even in central Iowa where the average first frost date arrives in early October. This year my yard was blanketed in snow on the 10th of October. Tender veggies such as the tomatoes and peppers turned to mush after that blast of cold. But other hardier crops continue to thrive despite sub-freezing weather.

I’ve been enjoying salads of chard and mesclun mix (a blend of lettuces and Asian greens) for the last several weeks, and expect to serve some up with the turkey and dressing at Thanksgiving when my family is visiting. I planted the mesclun mix in August, and covered it with floating row cover soon after it emerged, partly to protect it from marauding rabbits, and partly to prevent damage from frost.

I’ll add some Bull’s Blood beet greens to the salad to liven up the blend. I grow this beet almost exclusively for its brilliant red/maroon leaves, which are mild and tasty, especially during the cool weather of fall and spring.

Fresh broccoli is also on the menu. After I harvest the primary head, I let the side shoot sprout. They’ll continue to produce until temperatures dip into the low 20s F. These smaller heads easily fit into the vegetable steamer without needing to be chopped up. Flavor improves with the cool weather. And best yet, there’s no need to worry about closely examining the tight clusters for hidden worms! I prefer to get my Thanksgiving dinner protein source from turkey rather than cabbage loopers.

Hickory, dickory, dock

Written on November 19, 2009 at 4:00 pm, by Luke Miller

Reliving my childhood through an old nursery rhyme? Hardly. I’m just summing up last weekend’s hike through the beautiful Whiterock Conservancy in Coon Rapids, Iowa, which has its share of hickory trees and burdock.

I’m a big fan of the former, and unlike burdock, it seems to be in short supply around these parts. Not surprising, as hickories are never sold at nurseries. Fortunately, the 5,000-acre Conservancy has its fair share of these outstanding hardwood giants. Here’s one I snapped while on my hike.

Hickory trees have a reputation of being slow growers. Yes and no. The first few years, the seedlings put all their strength into growing roots as a natural defense against foraging critters. If tops are snipped, strong roots have the stamina to send up new shoots repeatedly. Seedlings only grow a few inches annually until they’re about 5 years old, at which time they start growing at a fairly normal rate for hardwoods—12 to 15 inches a year.

Shagbark and Shellbark hickory are favored by most because of their attractive shedding bark and tasty nuts. But Bitternut hickory grows the fastest, so if you don’t care about edible nuts, try that one instead. All hickory trees have nice yellow fall color.

Hickories are easy to start from seed. Throw the nuts in a bucket of water for 24 hours. Discard floaters and let the others air dry before placing in a sealed plastic bag of slightly moist peat moss. Store the bag in the refrigerator crisper for 4 to 5 months. Check on the nuts occasionally. If you find mold, wipe it off and dip the nuts in a 10-percent bleach solution; let them air dry, then put them in a clean bag filled with new peat moss.

Come spring, wrap each nut loosely with chicken wire before planting to discourage squirrels and chipmunks. Fence seedlings to protect against rabbits and deer. Mulch with shredded leaves and keep watered. Soon enough you’ll have an outstanding landscape tree that virtually no one else in your neighborhood has.

One caveat: because adult trees drop nuts, keep hickory trees away from the house and driveway. They’re better suited for a back corner, where you can enjoy the fall color while watching squirrels play catch with the crop.

Baked Earth

Written on November 19, 2009 at 3:00 pm, by James A. Baggett

Putting away my terra cotta pots is my final chore of the season. Terra cotta is my material of choice when it comes to the containers that grace my garden and front porch. I love the natural look of terra cotta (Italian for “baked earth”) and have amassed quite a collection of cool clay containers over the years. But like all crockery, terra cotta breaks when dropped and often cracks or flakes when exposed to repeated freeze-that cycles in the winter. So I keep mine stacked in a lopsided shed attached to the rear of my nearly hundred-year-old house.  Every year at this time I empty my spent containers in the compost bin, I make sure to remove all the loose debris and dirt from the pots. I spray them down with the hose and scrub them clean with a stiff brush before carting them to the shed. Cleaning your pots from year to year prevents passing fungi, bacteria, or viruses. And because clay is porous, salts in fertilizers pass through the pots walls and accumulate on the outside. That’s what that hard white crust is. Clean it off with a baking soda paste and a soft brush. Nothing looks nicer than stacks and stacks of clean terra cotta pots waiting for warmer weather.