Soaker hoses ensure that water percolates to the root zone of your plants. This Flat Soaker Hose is especially good for smaller beds because it forms curves easily.
Whenever I plant a new flower garden for one of my clients, I give the "watering talk," in which I underscore the importance of watering during the first year. I note that standing at the garden's edge with a hose and a sprayer (one hand on the hip), is not watering. Sure, it might feel good, but it's not watering.
Watering is a slow process, best done by the drop. By using soaker hose or drip irrigation, you ensure that water percolates to the root zone. I recommend adding a soaker hose to any new garden, putting it in place before the mulch goes down. Another good addition: a timer. That way, you don't have to remember to shut the hose off. I like soakers better than drip systems because they're more temporary. It's easy to move or reconfigure as the garden evolves and plants are added or moved. Although you can leave the soaker in place through the winter, I take the whole thing up in fall because it's easier to do garden clean-up.
Even existing garden beds benefit from a soaker hose because it makes it easy to water efficiently and thoroughly. No need to set up a sprinkler and adjust its coverage. No wasted water due to runoff. Just hook up the hose and let it soak. No excuses, no problem!
My most recent project was a 50 x 50-foot flower garden that's on a 45-degree slope. Because of the 45-degree site, the garden looks magnificent, especially when viewed from the porch. At the top of the slope, the surrounding woodland forms a nice backdrop. However, the clients found it difficult to water the bed because of the size and the incline. Plus, the upper section of the garden is often dry while the lower section remains on the wet side. We solved the problem with four 50-foot soaker hoses. Near the top of the slope, I set up a four-way valve with a length of soaker hose connected to each opening. From there, I ran the hoses across the slope — not up and down, which would affect the flow of water. By having four zones, the clients can water the drier sections as needed. I used Earth Staples to anchor the soaker hose and then covered the whole thing with bark mulch.
These soaker hose gardens always thrive because watering is easy and effective. Did I say that it's easy? Now, if I could just get my clients to remember to feed their plants.
When possible, overlap the fabric to avoid any unnecessary cuts. Tuck the edges under, giving yourself a 5" or 6" hem, and anchor securely on ends and sides to prevent fraying.
Headed for the dahlias, his life was cut short …
It was about six or seven years ago that I began to realize I’d created more gardens than I could handle. Feeling like something had to go, it was the cutting garden that seemed the most expendable. Since it was filled annuals, in addition to the usual maintenance tasks I also needed to start hundreds of seedlings, prep the beds each spring, replant the whole garden and then clean it all out again at the end of the season.
So I decided to turn the area back to lawn (easier for me, since I rarely do the mowing!). But, as the season went on, the area never got reseeded. I found that I missed the bouquets and having all that floral abundance around – especially in late summer and fall. Most of all I missed my zinnias.
So the next spring I turned what had become a big weed patch back into a cutting garden — with one big innovation. I would never spend another minute weeding the paths.
I started by making the paths wider than they had been. Planting edge to edge in the beds meant that late in the season, the old paths always became too narrow. Now there’s more room to get around comfortably, and the plants appreciate the improved air circulation.
Next, I covered the pathways with a professional-grade weed-proof fabric. Pro Weed Mat is made of woven polypropylene. It’s the exact same material used in many commercial nurseries. The 3-foot width was perfect for my wider paths. The edges and ends are anchored to the soil with Earth Staples, at about 3-foot intervals.
This summer is year five for my lower-maintenance cutting garden. The original fabric has been in place, uncovered and exposed to the elements, the entire time and still looks and works fine. Occasionally I’ve had to reposition the Earth Staples, when winter winds have pulled at the edges. And you need to carefully fold under and secure any cut edges to keep them from fraying. That’s it.
What I love best, other than the fact I never have to pull a single weed from the paths, is that I can clean up the garden with a push broom. Soil and any garden debris that winds up in the pathways just gets swept to one end of the row and onto the grass. Wow, huh?
Oh, one other thing. Slugs and snails seem to love hanging out on the matting. Great for me. Not so good for them.
I was amazed to see these clematis bloom so well the first year after planting. That's General Sikorski on the right and Venosa Violacea in the middle.
Betty Corning blooms early and has delicate, pendulous, recurved flowers. Look closely and you can see how the leaf stems bend and twist to grab on.
This spring, the clematis on the left (Betty Corning) raced to the top and was blooming by mid-June. The three little yellow shrubs growing at the base are a dwarf Japanese barberry called Golden Nugget.
I use wax-coated twine to make sure that the bulkiest parts of the vine are well-attached to the trellis.
I have yet to meet a clematis I didn't covet. This means I’m constantly on the lookout for more places to plant them. The tricky thing is, of course, that they need something to climb on.
I have four clematis growing up cedar posts that I’ve encircled with reinforcing wire. Another is growing up twine and twigs at the base of a white birch. A couple are growing up more traditional trellises. That makes seven.
Last spring I made room for three more. We used some panels of cedar lattice to enclose the walkout door from my basement and hide a utilitarian storage area under the deck. Voila! Another clematis-friendly trellis.
Unlike peas, which have tendrils that can be up to 6" long, clematis must use their leaf stems to climb. It’s sort of like having a little spring between the main stem of the vine and the leaf cluster. This device is somewhat limiting. Twine, poly trellis netting and steel wire work well because they’re thin enough for the spring-like stems to grab onto. (See David’s post last year about how we grow clematis in our display gardens.)
Turns out they all like this trellis just fine. I do use some waxed twine to secure the bulkiest parts of the vine, at a couple points from top to bottom.
The woodchucks in our neighborhood have broken the perimeter in our backyard. Since late spring, they have found ways to penetrate the forcefield that protects our phlox, asters, echinacea and balloonflowers. As soon as one breach is sealed, they find another weak point. They've even threatened to chew a very special New Zealand delphinium that my friend Kathy grew from seed.
I never thought I'd say it, but here goes: This means war.
Here's the most recent breach. They dug under the new poultry fence I'd put in just a week ago.
Many summers ago, I spent hour after sweaty hour digging a trench to bury chicken wire that I attached to the bottom of the fence. The system was worth the effort because it worked — until this year. In some places, the chicken wire has rusted and the woodchucks have been able to push through. In areas where the woodchucks have penetrated, I've re-dug the trench and replaced the chicken wire with poultry fence, which is made with wire that's heavier gauge. It's stiff and hard to work with. On top of that, there's very little space to work in at this time of year. The perennials are growing and looking beautiful. I don't want to ruin the flower border with major excavations. So, I compromised and dug a 12" trench instead of 18-24". And those persistent beasts dug deep enough to get under the wire, coming up right behind my new black hollyhocks.
This is how phlox looks when it's been mauled by woodchucks.
Alcea rosea 'Nigra', the so-called black hollyhock, is protected by a wire harvest basket, anchored with Earth Staples.
When I look over the fence into the neighbor's yard, I often see the evil beasts, nibbling on the lawn. They see me and scurry under the neighbor's back porch, where they live. We've seen as many as five. My partner thought it might be good to make peace with the animals, and he bought a large bag of broccoli florets. We threw some over the fence, and the critters fought with one another over the treasures. This did not appease them. They still want in.
Until we can really get in there and dig a proper trench, we've been repairing the breaches as they come up, usually by filling the holes with large rocks.This seems to work OK, but we're running out of rocks.
My friend Sarah has offered to loan us her dog, who has already shown and ability to control woodchucks. Earlier this spring, she brought the dog to a friend's backyard party. At one point, the dog returned with a woodchuck it had hunted and killed. "I thought they'd be psyched," Sarah said. But, not so much.
I try to think of this as a lesson to me as a gardener. It teaches me that persistence is my most essential tool. Despite my best efforts, weeds, pests, diseases and bad weather will always give me trouble. But if I keep trying — if I persist — I am a pretty good gardener.
So, I'll keep repairing the breaches, occassionally flipping the bird to those cute critters in the neighbor's yard. I will keep bringing in more rocks. I will persist. Might even have to release the dogs of war.
Make room for a planter of unusual, moisture-loving plants.
After placing a fiberglass screen over the bottom of the bowl, I filled it with dampened peat.
Long-fiber sphagnum peat moss covers the surface to prevent soil splashing and give a natural finished look.
Bog and pond plants intrigue me, but I don’t have a pond or bog in which to plant them. But, when the water plants arrived at our garden center a couple of weeks ago, I just had to have some of them anyway. The bold, deep purple leaves of Colocasia ‘Black Magic’ would contrast beautifully with the grassy foliage of star grass (Dichromena), Carex ‘Golden Bowles’ and tall papyrus (cyperus). I’m also a big fan of carnivorous plants, which tend to live in bogs, so I added red-leaved Sarracenia ‘Judith Hindle’, a Venus flytrap, and a couple of sundew plants to my shopping list. As a bonus, the sundews may help keep the mosquito population down, at least on my deck!
Natural bogs are constantly wet, so pottery without drainage holes make perfect containers for bog and water gardens. I chose the Acanthus Planter because the bowl depth is about right and the base is hollow for holding extra water. To make the water reservoir, I fitted a piece of fiberglass screen over the hole between the bowl and the base and secured it with a flat rock.
To reproduce the acidic natural soil found in bogs, I moistened a trug full of finely ground peat moss. Dried peat doesn’t absorb water very well, so I let it sit for a few hours before planting in it.
After tucking in all the plants, I covered the soil surface with moistened, long-fiber sphagnum peat moss. The moss prevents the soil from splashing on the plants and gives the planter a more natural, finished look. As the summer progresses, I expect the moss will turn green from algae and sprouting moss spores, which will add to its character.
Slideshow: A Vermont garden in high summer. Click on the images to see captions or go to full-screen mode.
I love visiting my friend Sue's house. She's the best flower gardener I know. We could talk about flowers nonstop for days on end. In fact, we did just that several years ago when we took a two-week trip to England together. Sue put together the itinerary (she grew up in England) and we visited no less than two and often three public gardens per day. It is so much fun to tour a garden when there's someone at your side who is ooh-ing and ahh-ing as much as you are!
One of the gardens we loved best was Great Dixter, home of the late Christopher Lloyd. At the very heart of the gardens is Christopher Lloyd's family home, a 15th century half-timber house that's ever-so-gently slouching into the landscape. The house is entered through a covered portico that's always flanked with an incredible assortment of fabulous potted plants. Inspired by this ever-changing horticultural tableaux at Great Dixter, my friend Sue has taken to creating her own entryway theatre.
Clustering potted plants in a protected area like this, lets you experiment with tender exotics, wild colors and weird foliage. Part of the fun is changing the plants around every few weeks. Sue has integrated some outdoor sculpture, antiques, found objects and more. Something you might want to try at your house!
Backyard Bees: See how honeybees in our backyard formed a new hive. Click on the photos to see the captions.
You know those interoffice e-mails that you get about mid-afternoon: Please be aware that the refrigerators will be cleaned on Thursday … Well, we got one the other day that started out kind of like that. Very perfunctory, but then it changed: … it appears the bees have swarmed — left the hive, that is — and are all in a clump on the arborvitae. This shouldn't pose any problems, but just be aware. Thanks.
It was one of those moments when you think: Only at Gardener's Supply. See, we have a set of hives in our 3-acre backyard, ensuring that all of the flowers and crops get pollinated. Bill Mares, president of the Vermont Beekeepers Association, keeps the hives there for workshops throughout the summer.
Bees will swarm when a hive reaches a point where there's not enough room to support the population. The existing queen leaves the hive with about half the bees to find a new home. In this case, it was a group of about 25,000 bees, clustered at the base of a shrub. Most of the bees remained in a mass (about a foot across) but a few were "scout bees", looking for a new place to nest. "Swarms are not unusual," Bill says. "In fact, a swarm is a good thing because it's a sign of a healthy population."
The bees remaining in the hive produce a new queen. Beekeepers don't like this process, Bill says, because during this four-week "re-queening," the hive doesn't produce much honey.
After a few hours, the breakaway bees began to leave the spot at the base of the tree. Within 10 minutes, almost all of the bees were about 12 feet in the air, flying in a holding pattern of sorts. The buzz was surprisingly loud. Eventually, the bees regrouped on a branch near their original location.
If the breakaway group is clustered on a tree branch, the beekeeper can sometimes cut the branch and shake the bees off into an empty hive. The important thing is that the queen must be in the group that ends up in the hive. In this case, Bill decided to attract the bees into a new hive by placing it nearby with a new queen inside. The plan worked, and the bees moved into the new space.
As far as we can tell, the bees and their new queen are quite happy in their new home. And if there any more swarms in the future, we are sure to be notified — by e-mail.
Asparagus is one of the easiest and most satisfying vegetables you can grow.
My own 20-year old asparagus bed in mid-April, at the start of the harvest season. Look, no weeds!
Week 3 of the asparagus season. Three more weeks to go!
A raised bed of asparagus in our Burlington, VT, display gardens. This is the third year and we have started to harvest.
The asparagus in our display gardens is purple. Really beautiful. Turns green when you cook it.
At my house, the asparagus harvest will soon be drawing to a close. Some of us are rather happy about that. We’ve been eating asparagus at least once a day since the end of April. Steamed, parboiled, sautéed and roasted. In omelets, pasta salads, stir-fries and soups, but mostly on its own with olive oil, pepper and sometimes a little balsamic vinegar. Leftover asparagus makes a delicious lunch snack. Giving away extra spears makes friends very happy.
Asparagus is one of the easiest and most satisfying vegetables you can grow. Plant it once and you can eat from the same plot for the next 25 years. So if you’re planning to stay put for awhile, and you have a sunny, well-drained spot that gets plenty of moisture, consider planting some asparagus. Planting is a job for very early spring, when the clusters of asparagus roots, called crowns, are available. Summer is the right time to start planning where your bed will be located, and start preparing the planting area.
One thing asparagus plants will not tolerate is weeds, so preparing a weed-free planting bed is essential. A raised bed is ideal. Crowns should be planted 6 to 8” deep, about 1½ feet apart. This means eight crowns will fit in a 3x6' bed. If you plant all-male, hybrid asparagus, such as Jersey Knight or Jersey Giant, rather than the quaint but underwhelming variety Mary Washington, eight crowns will produce an adequate supply of asparagus for two adults; 16 crowns will ensure a bountiful crop with lots to share.
Growing asparagus requires patience. For best long-term results, don’t harvest any spears until year three. This gives the roots a chance to get well-established before you start depriving them of their tender shoots. When it is time to begin harvesting, cut spears at soil level and continue harvesting until shoots get to be as thin as a pencil. Then stop harvesting until next year and let the rest of the spears develop into mature “fronds”. The plants will use this foliage to produce energy and feed their roots for next year’s harvest.
Apply a granular organic fertilizer to your asparagus bed in early spring and again in mid-summer. Add a couple inches of compost in spring and fall. If the soil is acidic, add some lime. Mulch the soil surface with shredded leaves or straw to retain moisture and minimize weed growth. Cut fronds to the ground in late fall and destroy. This will help keep asparagus beetle populations in check.
For more information, check out the guide to growing asparagus from the University of Missouri Extension Service.
Does your perennial garden peak early and disappoint from midsummer on?
Asters are stars of the late-summer show. Shown here are two types of asters paired with a fall-blooming allium (Allium thunbergii 'Ozawa')
In the garden center, this plain-looking aster has a hard time attracting buyers. Still, avid gardeners can see its potential.
Does your perennial garden peak early and disappoint from midsummer on? You’re not alone. In most parts of the country, the majority of commonly-grown perennials bloom in the first half of the summer. But there’s another reason that most of us are lacking color in our late summer gardens. We need to be better shoppers!
Ask a garden center manager or nursery owner about when people buy perennials. You’ll likely to hear that 80% of their sales are in May and June. Next, you could ask them the difference in sales potential between a plant that’s in bloom and one that’s not. They will probably say that they sell 10 plants in bloom for every one plant that’s not in bloom.
What’s in bloom during May and June when people like us are buying perennials? It’s the early-season flowers: peonies, columbine, lady’s mantle, delphinium and iris. When we’re out shopping, the late-summer perennials are nothing but tufts of green. For the same price, they’re just not as appealing.
The solution? Once in awhile you need to shop with a list, not with your heart. It’s tough to do, but when late summer rolls around you’ll be patting yourself on the back. There are lots of wonderful perennials that bloom in late summer, including coneflower, asters, mums, Russian sage, cimicifuga, sedum, rudbeckia, and phlox.
Next time you’re at a garden center, roaming around in the perennials, challenge yourself to buy something that’s not in bloom. Check the tag and buy a plant or two that blooms in August or even September.
Now’s the time to tuck a few annuals into your perennial borders, too. Read Late-Summer Flowers, which tells you what to choose.
The Garden Crusader Awards were created by Gardener's Supply to honor individuals who are improving the world through gardening. These enthusiastic men and women are planting trees and flowers, growing food, creating new green spaces, and teaching their friends and neighbors about the rewards of gardening.
To learn more about the people and programs that have received Garden Crusader Awards, see our Garden Crusader page.
Grow What You Eat
Do you grow what you eat? Check out our slideshow of gardeners who've taken the Grow What You Eat pledge. To see captions and full-size images, go to Flickr.
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