Into The Pot

Today was cold and windy -- more normal for autumn than the summer weather we enjoyed during the week. This was a perfect day for staying indoors and cooking, and minestrone soup was on the menu. Out of the freezer and into the pot went a bag of green string beans from my summer garden.

Beans
After harvesting green beans, they were washed and sent whole into the freezer. It was an experiment to determine if they could be successfully frozen and later used as an ingredient in soups. For today's minestrone, a bag of beans was steamed to thaw it but beans were not cooked. They kept their shape after being cut, and best of all, they were tasty -- great as a soup ingredient.

Carrots
The carrots for the soup were pulled from the garden a few minutes before going into the pot. Carrots never grew well in my clay soil despite testing several types. Sand added to the soil didn't seem to help. Organic material eventually did (along with the previously added sand) and as long as carrots are planted in that same hospitable spot each year, they do well. I think the carrot shape represents the growing season like rings in a tree -- wet and pleasant at the spring, dry, wet and normal, hot, then recently unusually warm. Remaining carrots stay in the ground until they are used.

Zucchini
As noted in the previous post, they were diced, blanched in boiling water for up to two minutes, cooled in ice water, then frozen. They appear to have lost their firmness going into the freezer, but they may be fine as a soup ingredient.

Tending To The Tender Snacks

Root crops and I just don't mix well. Carrots are one of the first creatures (they are supposed to be easy) that I tried growing, year after year, without much success. They ended up dry, splitting, deformed runts. After a few years of adding sand to my garden soil more appropriate for clay pottery than gardening, the results were no better.

Then, I discovered compost and organic material, and thought to try that to improve the soil density. Building upon last year's carrot success, I gave it another shot this year with the Tendersnax hybrid purchased a year or two ago. The results are truly amazing considering I ignored the carrots this year.

They suffered with a low germination rate, being seed that was two years old. And, they suffered through a few mini-droughts of my own doing, neglect, and the overgrowth of a white nicotiana jungle. After garden cleanup this fall, there they were; green and happy after the subfreezing temperatures last week. Two were split lengthwise, and a slug was chewing its way through a third for its Thanksgiving dinner, but most were in great shape. This was the first year I have had any hint of beasties bothering carrots, but then, I haven't had any carrots to speak of to bother.

These will make a great side dish in my annual holiday dinner in a few weeks. And I believe I found a good carrot compatible with my garden: Tendersnax.

Last Gasp Before Winter

Most of the garden has fallen asleep before winter arrives, but some defiant plants refuse to give up. Acidanthera, members of the glad, family look as lush and healthy as a summer day. They continue to flower, albeit with fewer blooms than in summer.

The pineapple sage (Salvia elegans) is in its glory at this time. It waits until just before frost to throw out its red threads against its chartreuse foliage. This year the plant really took off after a severe winter that I thought would have killed it off like its neighbor the rosemary. Now, every day brings new branches tipped with new flower buds. I wonder what this would look like after one more frost-free month.

The tricolor ornamental peppers Garda did not grow as large as last year when it was in a pot on the raised deck. Even though this year in ground, it received a little more sun. I am thinking the rich soil in the pot gave the plants there a boost. These peppers are a favorite of mine with their circus colors. Fruit starts out a light cream color, then turns purple, then turns orange, then turns red. Yes, they are edible and incredibly hot.

Zinnias never give up. Even if all their leaves have turned crispy brown in the crisp autumn temperatures, they want to keep on blooming. The free zinnia seed mix curiously have only the red ones going strong. Pinks, purples, and yellows died out.

The Mexican Zinnias (Zinnia agustifolia) are very slow to start themselves, reseeding year after year -- the zinnia that keeps on giving. I got my money's worth when I got these several years ago. Once they get growing, there is no stopping. Throughout the summer they thrive on the heat, producing balls of oranges, yellows, and whites. And in the fall, they also seem to love the cooler weather as much as the late pollinators love them. I usually let them spring up wherever they want, especially along a walkways to soften the edge.

The overnight lows are flirting with freezing, but these friends are holding out until the end after their comrades gave up.

Tissues, Dams, And Eyeballs

Last weekend was a perfect day for hiking. In an effort to experience the changing season away from the outer urban life, a few friends planned a hike and light picnic in the National Park Service's Prince William Forest near Quantico. The clowns on the Hill decided that they screwed up the country enough, so the park (federal government) was reopened once again in time for the weekend.

This was one of those outdoor scenic places you live near but have never visited. With too many trails to manage in one day, the beaver dams and the waterfalls were decided as the goals. We drove to a parking area and set out, armed with directions from the ranger in the visitor center. Let us share observations.

Fallen leaves are great at hiding the trails. We missed trail turn-offs three times. This caused a backtrack once, and hiking another mile or so more than we planned after missing two more.

When it looks like someone littered the trail with a tissue, assume the best in humanity -- that you are actually looking at a fungus.

Behind the dam was a small wetland. Note the evergreen hollies around the perimeter of the water while deciduous trees grow further up the slope.

We did not come across any beaver dams, unless they have modernized with reinforce concrete. The park was a hotbed of Civilian Conservation Corp construction in the 30s. Maybe the dam was part of that handiwork, or the Mayan were in town.

There was something about this area that was very serene with the lime green seedlings growing along the floor that the deer did not devour.

Fallen leaves, mostly oak and maple, were holey in one area.

It took a good eye to find eyeballs growing on the forest floor. Ever seen this type of fungus staring back at you?

There were no waterfalls, but a few babbling brooks. Maybe 'city dwellers' consider waterfalls as any stream that makes noise.

Favorite Cheap Plant

I was at the spring Strawberry Festival in Delaplane Virginia two years ago, with its bluegrass bands, raptors, food booths, organ grinder monkey, and craft vendors. The bluegrass and raptors were great, as was the kettle corn and strawberry shortcake booths. Between all the country rag dolls and tree stump clocks and chairs there was a plant vendor literally tucked into the corner.

Containers of strawberries were being scarfed up at incredibly high prices. And the containers were labeled Driscoll's just like those in the local supermarkets. I asked if Driscoll's supplied the containers for free. "No, Driscoll's grew the strawberries in California." Strawberry harvest time in Virginia can vary widely, so to be sure there are strawberries available for the festival, they are flown in from California. We stopped at a farm on the way home to field pick our own from local growers.

Back at the plant vendor and looking for something cheap, I ended up at the small-potted herbs and succulents table. I picked up a pineapple sage (Salvia elegans), and was informed about its care and planting instructions. Only a few dollars buys chartreuse leaves with a pineapple fragrance. "Be sure to take cuttings in the fall, or repot it and bring it indoors to keep it going."

It went into the side yard garden where it comfortably grew during the summer. Then in the late fall, these incredible 12-inch (30 cm) red spires appeared above the leaves, just as the world turns mums and orange. Is it the contrast against the lime green leaves that cause the red to jump out?

Repot in the fall? Sure, right. All the dead things are being ripped out of the garden and football calls on the weekend. Spring bulbs are lucky to get planted the week before Christmas. Still, leaves were raked, chopped, and spread around the beds for the winter.

It grows up to 3-feet in height (1 m) as a bush in its native Mexico highlands where hummingbirds love it. In the salvia genus, it is used in traditional Mexican medicine, for anxiety and high blood pressure treatment. A preliminary study shows antidepressant and antianxiety properties in mice. The internet presents concoctions for teas made from the leaves, and P. Allen Smith has a recipe for Pineapple Sage Pound Cake.

This spring, the little cheap pineapple sage came back. And, it had two babies from seeds or rooted from fallen stems. Does it like me or what?

For The Record:   • Clay soil with gypsum & organic amendments   • Full sun on a sloping site   • Small amount of fertilizer   • No serious pests/disease   • Overwintered with small amount of protection

October 2013 Flowers In The House

For this month, a few goodies were picked up from the garden and brought indoors. It was a cool day, -- perfect to be indoors making minestrone soup with fresh carrots from the garden while watching the Redskins entertain. These beauties were the best carrots ever.

I tried growing them again this spring after laying off for a number of years. Year after year of growing stunted balls of carrots was demoralizing. I took to preparing the soil over the years and determined to succeed, I tried again. Looks like the effort paid off as the carrots were long and the soil was soft enough to pull them up. Some remain in the garden, and of course some were proudly offered to the neighbors.

The autumn vase is for the kitchen countertop while chopping the soup's vegetables. This is aroma therapy. The chartreuse leaves of red fall-blooming pineapple sage (Salvia elegans) spices up the kitchen, along with a few sprigs of lavender. The yellow Canary zinnias add autumn to the kitchen. A few of the tricolor ornamental peppers add some bite, and of course, some fern-like carrot tops. Visit more Flowers In The House at Jane's blog Small But Charming.

Garden Calendar:   • Blooming: mexican zinnia, zinnia, marigolds, pineapple sage, rain lilies   • Harvested: 2 peppers, 2 tomato, 10 carrots

Beavers Go Sustainable

Huntley Meadows Park replaced the boardwalk with a 'Trex'walk a while back. The pressure-treated boards on the walking surface were not holding up, so synthetic boards were installed to take their place. The beavers thought this was an upgrade to their neighborhood, and took advantage of the high tech materials by incorporating the boardwalk into their new lodge.

The beavers smartly used local traditional materials such as renewable mud and sustainable natural wood, resulting in construction that achieved a 'silver' LEED rating.

Other photos of the scenes at Huntley Meadows show that even in late November, color is still found: in the berries, the late autumn leaves, and the dead swamp grasses.

Fall Tower of Sunflower

Dwarf sunflowers (Helianthus annuus) are always found in my summer garden, because, well, I have a very small house on a very small property. In addition, tall sunflowers are too overwhelming and gangly for my taste (although I have admired a tight grouping of them.)

Just about every winter, I comb through the garden catalogs searching out the shorties to try during the upcoming summer. Altogether I have tried about a half dozen varieties [posted 2009.08.25]. Last year, I never ordered any and can't remember what the reason was.

With no seed for the summer, I made a panic purchase at the local home improvement store when the tulips were blooming. Burpee's Big Blush came home and a spot was reserved along the front driveway. But, I could not find the seed when it came time to plant. "Did I really purchase them?" I wondered. I instead planted the same variety as before that I found in my tin of leftover seed, Waooh [posted 2010.09.02].

I eventually stumbled across the seeds I bought earlier in spring. The summer sunflowers were done blooming for the season in August. After they were ripped out, I thought, "Why not plant some more? Time to start another experiment." So a second crop of dwarf sunflowers (actually 3 seeds) were planted in the same spot; one came up.

I have good results to report from last week. With the frost holding off, one tower began its run. One could guess the dwarf varieties could do this since their growing season is a little shorter than the tall ones. A 40-inch high (1 m) stalk with all sorts of side flowers is blooming. Big Blush flowers are not unique, but the size of the side flowers and their associated stems is, resulting in great cut flowers from one plant.

Was this an anomaly? If not, this could become a habit from now on - something to replace the old sunflowers once they finish their summer blooming. On a second note, the Waooh sunflower seeds were harvested and are most appreciated by chickadees.

For The Record:   • Fertile soil & organic amendments   • Full sun   • No fertilizer   • Chomping pests during summer germination Garden Calendar:   • Blooming: Mexican zinnia, zinnia, sunflower, echinacea, pineapple sage   • Harvested: 1 pepper, 1 tomato

October 2012 Bloom Day

Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day
What's blooming in the garden on the 15th of the month

Gosh, everything seems to be red, yellow, orange this time of year (or brown.) And gosh, I haven't participated in a Gardnen Bloggers Bloom Day since April. So, here are a few noteworthy stragglers hanging on as fall is teetering on the first frost.

Note the sunflower beginning to bloom. There is a story here that I will tell in a future post. You can find other garden bloggers' bloom days at the blog May Dreams Gardens.

Acidanthera		Zinnia elegans 'Canary Bird'
Castor Plant (Ricinus communis)		Zinnia elegans 'Canary Bird'

Zinnia augustifolia
Zinnia agustifolia with dwarf sunflower
Salvia elegans 'Pineapple Sage'

Pineapple Rag

So I found myself in Delaplane Virginia for the annual spring strawberry festival. Disappointed that the strawberries bering sold were Driscoll's imported from California (and higher priced than the same in the grocery stores), I headed for the craft booths. I wandered down Booth Row and through the endless assortment of hummingbird and butterfly stained glass, country dolls, soap, and banners (I am probably insulting some readers here), and found a corner vendor selling plants.

The herb table was most interesting. I picked up a Pineapple Sage (Salvia elegans) and chatted with the owner who pointed out its virtues and its growing requirements. So it will grow into a small bush, cuttings can be taken, and it will die in the fall.

It was planted in my hillside, side south-facing garden and pretty much forgotten about. Once in a while, I picked off a leaf to enjoy the pineapple scent. And, I was fond of picking one off for any visitors (on a garden 'tour' before dinner) to enjoy. Internet indications are that it makes good tea and pina colada garnishments.

Leaves were always light chartreuse and stood out next to the castor and rosemary plants. Its color seemed to be a theme in the back yard without trying (St. John's Wort, hostas, coleus.) And then this month, it began blooming.

To say the red on the Pineapple Sage (Salvia elegans) is brilliant is an understatement. Only two other plants have this red intensity at this time of year - cosmos and crocosmia, and my crocosmia died years ago. The 18-inch high (50 cm) plant filled in without trimming. The square stems and blooms are a giveaway as a mint family member. In fact, I noticed the flowers look like salvia, which (wow) is in the botanical name.

Indications on internet sites are that the plant dies down at frost, but the root clump remains viable over winter to my zone (7A). Since I have enough going on bringing plants indoors during the fall, I think I will test out this overwinter theory and just mulch the roots for the winter.

I am please with the outcome of this purchase. And will even look at pineapple sage recipes if it comes back next year. Pineapple sage salsa anyone?

For The Record:   • Heavy clay soil with some organic amendments   • Full sun   • No fertilizer   • No serious pests/disease Garden Calendar:   • Blooming: canna, mexican zinnia, zinnia, sage, aster   • Harvested: 2 tomatoes, 1 radish

Iris Rerun

This is just a quick post to keep the blog going until the next post. Winter does not have a lot going on for me that hasn't been mentioned before. One exception is yet another post about Clarence the bearded iris [2011.05.03].

As mentioned in a previous post [2011.10.23], he started showing signs of blooming in November and December after taking the summer off. I did a bit of research online, and discovered the wonderful world of re-blooming iris. Clarence apparently belongs to this group. I believe that the Tidewater Gardener mentioned in the past that 're-blooming iris' usually means one more time in the fall, and means a smaller bloom production. This was certainly true here with Clarence.

Recent frosts have not affected the buds, maybe because the plant is located in a bed on the south side of the house, but a very heavy frost does affect any flowers in full bloom. What a surprise, especially when everything else in the side slope garden is dead and gone for the season.

Neon Hostas

With three or four years of hostas under my belt, you would think I know my plants pretty well. This fall they surprised me, maybe because of the unusual weather, maybe because of they are more mature, or maybe because they are trying to impress me.

Two of the hostas have stood out. The first, True Blue, was purchased three years ago and is described as, "Large, heart-shaped gray-blue leaves with slightly wavy margins and moderate puckering, excellent substance and pest resistance, near white flowers." To date, they have proved the description correct.

This fall, however, True Blue turned mellow yellow. The leaves changed color to a neon gold. In the dull shade of the back yard, the yellow is a stand out. In previous years, the leaves may have been a little colorful, but mostly just turned brown and disappeared.

Leaves on trees seem to be holding on longer this fall. My bearded iris is blooming again. Is there a more gradual than normal change in the season this year, allowing the hosta to fade slowly rather than quickly die off? And what are those black and tan pointy thingies hanging off the hostas? For the first time, the True Blue seed pods fully matured, completely dried, and dropped seeds!

And who is in that last photo? It's Frances Willimas, the other large shade hosta. Like the True Blue, their leaves are dying off slowly, but are not changing color all at once. Instead, these are changing from the outside edges inward, producing a tri-color green, yellow, the brown pattern. The seed pods are also quite plentiful and maturing.

The other hostas are turning in this fall as usual. Only the large hostas are putting on a show this year.

Garden Calendar:   • Blooming: pink cosmos, mexican zinnia, acidanthera

October 2011 Flowers In The House

Indoor flowers on the last Monday of the month.
No corn or corny-copia on the front door, so what does one do for the holiday season? Why not join the Flowers In The House gang.

There were a few zinnias and marigolds left in the garden after the cold storm this weekend. Fortunately, after last night's freeze I could still harvest something and will enjoy them for a few more days indoors. This samples the bounty of peppers and flowers that were brought in Sunday.

Along with my obviously contrived contribution, find other garden bloggers' Halloween Flowers In The House at the blog Small But Charming.

Act II - Autumn

Many of my perennials begin in the warmth of spring with a vibrant burst of life, only to slowly give up in our notoriously hot and humid Washington summers. In August, the plants are as tired of the heat as I am of trying to care for them.

The garden comes back to life for one brief final fling when the nights cool and the days shorten. The steam-heat-loving fungal diseases disappear, as do many of the crawling and chomping beasties. Several plants are now on their encore performance prior to the final act of frost, and some are surprising. I like good surprises.

The miniature rose bush [2011.05.29] succumbed to black spot while I was away for two weeks in September. I came home to a barren cluster of stems with no vegetation or buds. Now it bravely blooms again, although I don't know how with stems devoid of leaves. I think I see a few new fresh shoots with leaves erupting.

Cardoon plants (Cynara cardunculus) were given to me this spring and did nothing all summer after being planted in the hot garden where the infamous octopus hollyhocks were removed. The future colossuses (colossi?) valiantly struggled through their first summer and now look like they are loving life.

The self-reliant white nicotiana [2009.07.09] annuals bloom through spring and most of the summer. After seed pods set, the flowers stop and there is little rebloom even with deadheading. There is a slow decline until I eventually put them out (rip them out) of their misery. The seeds are scattered and come back next year. In fall, some of the roots left in the ground erupt into a huge clump of leaves. Some of these will slumber through winter and wake up in the spring with a big head start on the sprouting seeds.

Fall blooming iris? The bearded iris Clarence [2011.05.03] must have heard me complaining that he took two years to bloom, so now he's making up for lost time. There is a lonely stem of baby iris buds reaching up. I hope they can open before frost. Do bearded iris bloom in the fall in addition to the spring? I guess so.

Garden Calendar:   • Blooming: pink cosmos, mexican zinnia, zinnia, salvia, marigold   • Harvested: 2 Anaheim pepper, 1 tomato

And It Goes With...

I am not known as a gardener that plans to match colors in blooms. For the first time this year, however, I began actually thinking about colors of adjacent plants. I believe it started last year when I noticed some green hostas with lime green trim ended up next to a yellow hosta, slightly greenish oak leaf hydrangea blooms, and a lime green coleus - purely accidental.

This year I planted that lime green coleus with dark maroon spots near some maroon heuchera, and planted purple zinnia mixed in with yellow zinnia. I had a vision of the results, although the visions did not quite turn out.

First, the purple zinnias did not germinate as well as the yellow. Second, the purples were a bit taller. If you are looking for pictures, you are out of luck. Third, my vision was blown away with hurricane Irene.

I do, however, have a few unplanned shows of purple - yellow combinations in the garden. First, those canary yellow zinnias were not blown over in the front garden, and ended up putting on a show. They contrast with the purple New England asters. The asters are about past their prime today, but the zinnias go on.

In the same garden, the cooler-loving purple May Night salvia has sprung back to life as it usually does after a hot summer. At its feet, the self-seeding, late maturing Mexican zinnias are now exploding in a riot of yellow. Both are coming into prime at the same time.

So even though the planted color combinations failed to materialize this year, the unplanned ones were just as spectacular as those in my vision.

Garden Calendar:   • Blooming: pink cosmos, mexican zinnia, salvia, zinnia, acidanthra   • 2-week harvested: 10 Anaheim pepper, 2 tomatoes

Blooming After The Frost

Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day
What's blooming in the garden on the 15th of the month.

The frost came on Tuesday morning of this week. There was no warning - the temperature forecast was for lows above freezing, but upon waking in the morning, there was frost on the grass and on the cars. This was not heavy, and plants near the house and in the backyard with a bit of tree cover were not harmed. Still, it was time to continue with the fall cleanup.

There are a few hardy souls still blooming and loving the cool weather. Rudbeckia with its large blossoms makes great cut flowers for indoors at this time, and punctuates the barren side yard where annuals have left.

Nicotiana is now on its third blooming cycle (or is it fourth) in the back. The plants are now enormous with leaves large enough to resemble real tobacco. I would not be surprised to find them there come spring if we have a mild winter. This has happened in the past.

The Coconut Lime echinacea, I am happy to report, has bloomed consistently throughout the summer after being deadheaded. The foliage is none too pretty in late fall, but new blooms still appear, albeit smaller. The plant ends up shorter than its native parent, at only about 1-foot tall (30 cm), but the blooms extend above the plant well.

Last, and certainly enjoying the coolness as always, is the calendula. This roughneck will stay blooming into December. Frost doesn't affect it, although a hard freeze will. As with the nicotiana, the plants will sometimes overwinter and fully bloom in early spring. Otherwise, new spring seedlings germinate and begin to bloom in later spring.

Overall the fall has been mild and dry, but not hot. The cool temperatures are coming gradually.