Canning article / Recently in the garden 27 May 2009

There is a pretty nice article on home canning in today’s New York Times, targeted towards beginners, Preserving Time in a Bottle (Or a Jar), with a sidebar, Some Canning Dos and Don’ts.  The online version includes a video clip and a slide show.

The snowmelt has emphatically run out in the front garden by now.  Yesterday many of the areas that I hadn’t watered recently (I try to do hand-watering of selected plants when possible instead of whole-garden watering) had quite literally turned to powder.  The ability of the wind and other weather patterns to so completely dry out the front garden so fast never ceases to amaze me.  Thankfully, as I type it’s finally raining, though again the heaviest rain is tracking away from us (usually in the past month it tracks to the south, but this time it’s tracking to the north).

Yesterday I did some planting.  My biggest focus was on the vines that I ordered from Select Seeds (4) and picked up from the nursery recently (2) as they all appeared to be pot-bound and because I know vines want to get going – want to become vines instead of being trapped, being a tiny size in a tiny pot.  I ended up planting 5 of the 6 with the little stand of sweet peas, figuring they could take over when the majority of the sweet peas inevitably die with the onset of long-lasting heat.   The 6th, Spanish Flag (Mina lobata), I planted at the base of the cup plant (Midwestern US native Silphium perfoliatum), a sturdy trellis if there ever was one.  Cup plant is such a hefty presence in the garden that I already get people asking about it even though it’s far from flowering and still short (for cup plant’s standards – maybe 3 feet tall).  Anyway, the biggest reason I picked Spanish Flag for tht spot is because it’s suppsoed to be more tolerant of partial shade than the other vines I planted, and I figured cup plant would, just because of its impressive stature, make whatever climbed on it a bit shaded.  The others I planted were Purple Bell Vine (Rhodochiton atrosanguineum), Creeping Gloxinia (Asarina erubescens) ‘Wine Red,’ Mexican Flame Vine (Senecio confusus) ‘Sao Paulo,’ one of two plants sold as Cardinal Vine, and a morning glory that I think is ‘Blue Star,’ and which I was enchanted by at the nursery because of its tag’s photo of a flower that reminded me of things washed up on seashores, but in photos online looks to be blue-on-blue instead of the photo’s appearance of blue-on-white (still, it appears to be pretty).  After I finished planting them, I handmade a trellis using bamboo poles and garden twine.

I also planted two more creeping verbenas (the two I already had are a deep purple; the new ones are one each in pale lavender and a medium purple), another lantana (‘Citrus,’ which I’ve never grown before [I don’t know if it’s a new cultivar] and which is a pale peachy-orange ringing a bright yellow, and looks lovely planted with the yellow African daisy, the white-with-yellow-centers bacopa, and the pastel stocks, as if it ties the two color themes together better), and twelve young annual ice plants in a mix of colors, ten of them ringing one corner of the garden, one more planted slightly off by the yellow African daisy, and the last one planted at the front retaining wall to provide a bit of consistency.  I think I might’ve planted a couple more things too, but I can’t remember.  I also found a young pea growing in the flower bed and, unsure if it was a sweet pea or a garden pea, transplanted it into the crop patch, off by itself, to see what it becomes.  I assume the ants did the redecorating, as usual.

The peas and fava/broad beans are doing really well.  More favas have blooms every day.  I still love their beautiful white blooms with black splotches; they have such character to me.  Yesterday I noticed the first pea bloom, a white one on one of the dwarf peas (I think it’s ‘De Grace’), and then realized that several of the tall pea plants had buds.  It looks like the rain and crisp air are encouraging them to open their blooms today. The runner beans, edamames (soy beans), and garbanzo bean hadn’t sprouted yet in my last thorough check yesterday, but the last three purple-podded beans have come up since my last update.  (Information on them is pasted below.)  As I’ve said before, how I love purple-podded beans!

Yesterday and today were/are ‘flower days’ in biodynamic growing parlance.  I mentioned what I did yesterday, and today I’m hoping to sow the zinnias, nasturtiums, marigolds, and morning glories.  Marigolds are the first plant I ever remember growing from seed, in window boxes at my bedroom as a child, and I still love their ease of growing from seed and their beautiful flowers, especially the single flowers that I grew up with (neither I nor the pollinators are overly fond of most floofy double marigolds).  Zinnias and nasturtiums are two more of the easiest flowers to grow from seed, and as I noted here last early summer, sowing them shortly before storms works very well as the storm soaks the seed, meaning you can skip the general recommendation of soaking them for 12-24 hours before planting (also a recommendation for morning glory seed).  It’s supposed to thunderstorm later this week (though we’ll see) so I’m hoping planting them today will mean they’ll be soaked shortly and then sprout in the hotter temperatures to come at week’s end.  Right now it’s frigid for this time of year; clocking in in the upper 40s F, it is colder than our average low temperature.  Lucky for ‘De Grace’ that it loves this kind of temperature (it’s supposed to be one of the hardiest garden peas, able to handle some frost well, though in fairness, I’ve found that many of the other heirloom peas are similar in this regard).

My neighborhood farmers’ market starts today, not the best day weather-wise for it, but I am still quite looking forward to perusing all the seedlings for sale, many often things that can’t be found at the local nursery and/or are not organic there.  (Most of the farms at my market are organic, be it in label or solely in practice, but most of the nusery’s suppliers are not.)  Usually the first two or three weeks are mostly plants with some produce, and then the ratio gradually flips until by midsummer there’s usually just one stand selling plants, a fairly new stand that was so unfriendly that I don’t remember them ever even saying hello to me even though I browsed for several minutes at least three different weeks, and the first time, would have probably bought a couple plants from them if I’d been able to find a staff member (that week, there didn’t even appear to be anyone manning the stand when I stopped by, and I wasn’t the only one seriously looking at the time).  Anyhow, the point is that I’m looking forward to seeing the staff again and to getting quality plants and tasty food!  Yay for farmers’ markets!

Royalty Purple Pod Bush. Purple bushes with short runners and purple flowers. Bright-purple stringless 5″-6″ pods cook to dark green. Buff colored seeds germinate in cold, wet soil. Bred by E.M. Meader at the University of New Hampshire and introduced in 1957. (freebie from Peaceful Valley; I strongly favor pole beans, and don’t grow many [sometimes any] bush beans)

Dean’s Purple 55. days. Vigorous, prolific, beautiful. [Family heirloom from Tennessee.] Supplied to us courtesy seedsavers Mark Schonbeck, Valerie Lyle and Dean Turley. Dean recieved the beans as a gift from a student whose family brought it to Frost Bottom, Tennessee when they settled there 150 years ago. Plants form a gorgeous purple and green screen loaded with vivid purple beans. Save both light and dark seedsfor the more tender purple pods and finer taste. Minimal bean beetle damage when other varieties were destroyed. (Southern Exposure Seed Exchange)

Purple Marconi Just in from Italy, a fabulous violet purple Italian pole bean. I was so pleased with these pole snap beans. Vigorous and growing on strong vines up to 8 feet, these are just too beautiful to eat! These were grown on a trellis but they got so big and strong we had to attach an “addition” onto the fence holding up the trellis. They are very ornamental and lovely. The “Purple Marconi Pole Beans” have flat 5-7 inch long pods that turn green when blanched, but the color can be maintained if steam blanched for under 2 minutes. These have a sweet but hearty taste, and are best picked young. Another edible ornamental for your garden, try them raw with crudites for their gorgeous color. Pretty early for a pole sort at 67 days to maturity. (Amishland Seeds)

Books and photos 8 May 2008

The New York Times is 2 for 2 this week: Today they have an interview with Wendy Johnson, a Zen-inspired long-time gardener. Again, the online version includes a slideshow. I’ve already found a used copy of her new book, Gardening at the Dragon’s Gate, and I’m thinking of quitting the gardening book I’m currently reading, An Ecology of Enchantment: A Year in a Country Garden by Des Kennedy, to start reading it instead. The latter is a book I recently bought thinking it sounded like the perfect sort of gardening essay book for me to read, but so far I’ve been underwhelmed by it (though in fairness, I’ve only read one section so far; it’s arranged by month, so I thought I would start with May, seeing as we’re in it right now). Even when I agree with the things he’s saying, I find myself feeling cranky about how he says them. For example, we both have a deep love of crabapples, most particularly when they’re blooming, but the way he talks about them annoys me. For another example, he seems to have absolutely zero concern for the possibility of plants escaping, which to be honest is something I would worry about even more in a country garden than I do here in my city one, since the damage can potentially be so much worse close to wild areas. Additionally, I find Des’ writing style to be overly flowery. So maybe Wendy Johnson’s Zen-inspired prose would be a breath of fresh air in comparison.

Speaking of crabapples, this is indeed the week they are blooming here, and they are as lovely as always. Here is one of the many shots I’ve taken of them in the area this week. This one was taken at the Charles River; you can see the river in the background, blurry.

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This is one of my favorite weeks of the year here, when suddenly there seems to be an explosion of bloom: Crabapples and cherries and lilacs and azaleas and rhododendrons and sand cherries and the late magnolias (most of the magnolias now bloom before most of the forsythia here; many forsythia are still blooming now, all leafed out, looking drab – once upon a time they bloomed in late February or early March); tulips and late daffodils and grape hyacinths and columbines and perennial candytuft and vinca and euphorbia species and moss phlox and on and on and on.  This week I saw the Catbirds for the first time this spring and today, a sure sign of summer soon to come, I heard twittering from overhead and looked up to see the Chimney Swifts swooping through the sky for the first time since early last autumn. It always feels here in this cold-winter region like spring starts out as this demure being celebrating subtlety and giving us small jewels as hints of her presence and that this is the week at which she lets down her hair and exclaims, “Let’s have a big party!”

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Somehow I seem to have drawn Sundial Lupine, Lupinus perennis, to me by talking about it here recently. On Monday I stopped in at the nursery as I had to walk by it anyway, and was shocked to discover a sundial lupine for sale there (the first time I’ve ever seen one for sale in a nursery in person), and in one of the biggest pots I’ve ever seen a perennial in there. I asked the nursery manager if she thought they’d be getting more in, and she said she wouldn’t guarantee it, so I bought it and took it around with me for the day. I planted it yesterday (luckily as it was shortly before I was injured). Below are a couple pictures; note how its leaves are thinner and often longer than hybrid lupines, and how they tend to be more upturned, catching the rain more easily than hybrid lupine leaves.

The manager said a lupine this big should definitely bloom this year, but we’ll see.  For more on this kind of lupine, check out this link and (for subspecies occidentalis) this link. Both also have photos.

Stock, blooming away merrily

At least five or six different colors came in just the three pots I got. It’s a great side effect, I think, of buying young plants before they’re blooming much or at all (though I know when one has a specific color scheme in mind, it’s less great). Stock smell so, so lovely, and being planted next to the honey scent of the white sweet alyssum in this year’s garden, it’s like an olfactory explosion in that area.