Grief and glory.

Tags

Michigan lily, raspberries

Actually, a prominent Canadian gardener named Ed Lawrence did write a gardening help book called Gardening Grief and Glory. It consists of answering specific questions he’d received over the years, so it’s highly specific, but if you have any of those problems, it’s also extremely helpful.

Where was I? Oh, right…more grief than glory, really. Can’t have one without the other, in gardening.

I’ll start with the grief. The two wild black raspberry bushes (Rubus occidentalis) finally got black raspberry orange rust (Arthuriomyces peckianus), a fungus that goes systemic and eventually kills the plant. It was really a matter of time; when one plants black or purple raspberries, especially the wild species, one does so in the certain knowledge that eventually this fungus will show up (in this part of the world, anyway). They’ve had a good innings; the two bushes have been around for eight years, so combined with the fact that they were free gifts from the local birds, I probably can’t complain.

Still, it’s disappointing. The berries were small but very plentiful and have a good flavour, and until now were trouble-free. I’ve made desserts, jam, and even wine vinegar from them in the past. Unfortunately, I can’t replant the same species in the same place, and at this point I don’t have anywhere else in the garden to establish a couple more plants. I could replace with red raspberries, which don’t get that particular disease…but are susceptible to diseases of their own.

Anyway, those are considerations for later. This year the harvest is as good as ever, so I’ll wait until the fruiting is done, then cut down, dig up, and burn my two old friends. I suppose it wouldn’t be a bad idea to leave the space fallow for the rest of the season, then fill in the gap next year.

The glory, while glorious, is fleeting: the Michigan lilies (Lilium michiganense) have finally bloomed. I’ve waited seven years for this; that’s right, seven actual years. I knew that when I got them, but then you spend six years wondering if it will ever really happen, or worrying that they might die first because you haven’t put them in the right spot or something. I have two clumps: one in the ground, and one in a pot as a sort of insurance. The one in the ground produced just one flower, while the entire potted clump flowered at once.

It’s a little odd that I have these; they’re the only type of true lily I have. I really don’t like lilies, especially the so-called Asiatic and Oriental hybrids and trumpet lilies, which are probably the most common ones in gardens. I think they look rather blowsy and overbearing, I really dislike the smell, and the plants look like weeds when not in bloom.

Michigan lilies are much more delicate and unscented; they also happen to be one of the few orange flowers I have. Despite the common and Latin names, they’re also native to this area. I haven’t decided if they were worth a seven year wait, but they are lovely. I also seem to remember that they were a little more expensive than the other forbs when I got them.

I haven’t noticed what, if any, insects are attracted to them, though, because the weather just turned so flaming hot and humid that I’ve not been inclined to navel-gaze as much in the garden. I know there’s no size perspective in the pictures below, but each flower is only about three inches across. Of course, if the petals spread out fully instead of reflexing, they’d be bigger.

Michigan lily 1.

Michigan lily 2.

And you know what links the glory to the grief? The clump of lilies growing in the ground is right next to the black raspberries. Funny old world, sometimes.

Autumn harvests.

Tags

cabbages, Jerusalem artichokes, raspberries

I haven’t done much in the garden for the past few days, but there isn’t really much to do now. There are a few things to clip down and compost, but even those can wait until spring, and I won’t mound and burlap the roses until probably the middle of November.

I did make a start of harvesting the Jerusalem artichokes, a.k.a. fartichokes (Helianthus tuberosus). And by that I mean that I dug up the one that I planted out of place last year, though gods know why I did that. It also meant that with it gone, I could finally plant the poor suffering raspberry plant (Rubus sp.) a fellow Master Gardener gave me in May. This is a slight departure from my usual gardening M.O. because I very seldom put anything in my garden unless I know exactly what it is. She’s had that raspberry variety for a long time now and no longer remembers the name (so I can’t look it up), but I’ve seen it growing and tasted the fruit and I’m satisfied to have it. So I planted it in the space left by the fartichoke. That unfortunately was all I had time for today before it got dark, so I’ll have to deal with the remaining Jerusalem artichokes later in the week.

Another thing I’ll harvest soon is the remaining ‘Melissa’ Savoy cabbage. I started three plants this year, but one of the seedlings didn’t make it. Of the other two, one took longer to really get going than the other, so they naturally staggered their harvesting times, which was ideal. The first one got picked nearly a month ago.

This second one has been the subject of some attention when people visit the garden; for some reason they think it needed photographing. I’m not sure why; to me it looks pretty much how a cabbage ought to look and the first one looked the same…but I did take a picture. Apologies for the bird netting; I thought if I planted them at the edge of the strawberry patch, the netting would keep the accursed Cabbage White butterflies (Pieris rapae) off them. It didn’t. I used a lot of good words the first day I saw the butterflies just sailing right on through.

Anyway, soon cabbage will be on the table again. I like Savoy better than plain old white cabbage, and anyway I don’t see the point in growing the same things as in the supermarket, which are sadly increasingly becoming GM varieties.

Lovely start to summer.

Tags

cucumbers, dahlia, raspberries, strawberries

Well, summer started a few weeks ago. But it’s been a busy few days here: last Thursday I had a Master Gardener meeting, then on Sunday there was a garden tour at which I gave advice, then today I volunteered at Erindale Park. I heard something sad there today: one of the other volunteers had gone to help at the Food Bank, and they had to send the volunteers home because there wasn’t any food to organise and distribute.

I guess the summer lull is already beginning. Right now most of the gardening involves watering the containers and vegetables, weeding, and continuing to harvest the wild black raspberries (Rubus occidentalis). I suppose in a week or so it will be time to harvest the garlic.

The new strawberries seem to be doing well. Because they are new, I didn’t let the June-bearing types crop, but at least now that it’s July I can let the day-neutral ‘Albion’ bear fruit. And it was delicious, seriously. I also harvested my first cucumber of the year (ever, actually) yesterday. Funny, on Thursday I was telling someone that all my cucumber plants still had only male flowers, then the next day I found a fully-grown cucumber hiding underneath the leaves. And that was delicious too.

Most other things are those small tasks that you never seem to get around to, but you miss if you don’t, such as making comfrey liquid and deadheading the roses. I should start potting things up for the autumn plant sale too. And last but not least, I updated the “black” flowers page to include my new dahlia.

I’m not good at titles.

Tags

dahlia, daylily, elder, juniper, maple, raspberries, sedum, tomatoes

Well, I’ve had a look at the potted plants that have been overwintering in the garage and although it’s to early to say for sure, most of them seem in pretty good shape. A lot of the very hardy plants have already started sprouting, such as the sedums and daylilies (Sedum spp. and Hemerocallis spp.) The baby junipers have also started greening up. An interesting thing about a lot of evergreen conifers is that when they’re very young (say 5 years old or less), they go brown in winter. Everything that’s already sprouted is now outside under plastic domes.

Had a look in the backyard today and boy, those rabbits have done a number (and that number is two). They’ve chewed on everything they could reach, including a potted Norway maple (Acer platanoides) sapling that I left outside hoping winter would kill it (it was a donation to last year’s plant sale even though Norway maples are on the do-not-want- list). They even clipped the wild raspberry canes (Rubus occidentalis). And I’m pretty sure they had a go at one of the elderberry bushes (Sambucus canadensis)

Unfortunately I left the ‘Arabian Night’ dahlia tubers in the garage too long and they rotted away. I won’t say I’m not disappointed, but I’m not devastated either. In fact, I’d already ordered a new kind (‘Karma Chocolate’) before I’d even inspected the old ones.

And most recently, I got seeds for ‘Lemon’ cucumbers and ‘Black Krim’ tomatoes at Canada Blooms on Wednesday. I’m a little nervous about the cucumbers; last time I tried, a couple years ago, there was a terrible cucumber beetle festival. They’d always been around in small numbers because of the pumpkins, but the pumpkins don’t seem to be as bothered by them. Actually, it’s not even the beetles themselves that are the real problem; it’s more the bacterial infection that the beetles pass on to the plants. Anyway, I stopped growing cucurbits entirely for two years. I think I’ll hedge my bets and try growing a couple in pots in the bay window.

How nice.

Tags

castor bean, Eastern black swallowtail, lemon balm, monarch, peppermint, raspberries, spearmint, tomatoes

I got a lovely compliment from the mail carrier the other day: she said my garden always looks interesting, and she made a point to ask what the castor beans (Ricinus communis) ‘New Zealand Purple’ are. When one considers how many gardens a postal worker sees every day, I think that’s something.

…or maybe I’m just highly susceptible to flattery, who knows. But it’s true that if you want to butter up a gardener, complimenting the garden is the surest way to do it.

Summer maintenance continues. I cut down the wild black raspberry (Rubus occidentalis) canes that fruited this season, and the first of the tomatoes are in. I suppose I could get a few potatoes now, but I’m not desperate and I’d rather let them keep growing until the vines die. What I really ought to do is harvest all that peppermint (Mentha x piperita) and spearmint (M. spicata) and the lemon balm (Melissa officinalis), but every time I decide to do it, something else catches my attention.

The monarch caterpillar on Day 18, about two inches long plus antennae. The leaf is included for a size comparison. The frass (caterpillar turds) are now the size of grape seeds. Considering they come out of something the thickness of a pencil, that’s…I’m not sure impressive is the right word. When I took this picture today, I was sure it would soon enter its final ecdysis into a chrysalis.

Monarch caterpillars pupate hanging head down from a horizontal surface, so they have an annoying habit (when raised in captivity) of crawling around and starting the process from the ceiling of whatever enclosure they’re raised in. That’s not necessarily a problem, but it does make for awkward photo ops.

Because I was following this particular caterpillar, I kept it separately in a large vase and covered it with a piece of cardboard. The caterpillar is now hanging from the underside of the cardboard spinning itself a network of silk; this will provide an anchor for it while it moults and as a chrysalis. I’ll have to keep an even closer eye on it now to get pictures of all the significant stages.

This one is pretty much right on track; monarchs generally spend about two weeks as caterpillars, although of course several factors play a role.

This is another of the monarch caterpillars I’m raising. I keep going on about this thing called ecdysis; this simply means the process of shedding its old skin so it can grow.

I mentioned previously that when the moult itself begins, the face of the caterpillar falls off, and then the caterpillar essentially walks out of its old skin. In this picture, you can see the old skin on the left, just behind the caterpillar. I suppose it does resemble a large pile of poo. Generally the caterpillar will consume a shed skin – there’s a lot of nutrients in one, and it removes the evidence – but I didn’t check to see if this one did. I did have to disturb it by removing the leaf from the stalk to take the picture, so it might not have, and it doesn’t always happen anyway.

As an aside, a very general way of assessing if ecdysis is imminent is to look at the caterpillar’s head. Although the skin can stretch and grow a small amount, the face won’t. If the caterpillar’s face looks disproportionately small compared to its overall diameter (and this will vary by species), it may well enter ecdysis soon. It takes a bit of practice to tell.

Finally, here’s the Eastern Black Swallowtail caterpillar I’m following. The spots of brown are becoming more obvious, and it’s about a centimetre long now. Or it would be if it straightened out.

I’m slightly concerned because I seem to remember that the EBS caterpillars I raised in past years grew a little faster than this, although memory does play tricks and mine isn’t the most reliable. It might be interesting to see if they grow faster on dill (as this one is feeding on) or on carrot leaves (which I always used before).

It’s struck me in recent days to think about caterpillar personalities. I know it sounds bizarre and crazy to assign a personality to a little eating machine, but over the years I’ve noticed that caterpillars (of the same species) often react in slightly different ways to the same stimuli. For example, I’ve had some that would crawl quite happily onto and over my hands, while others wouldn’t touch me with a ten-foot pole (figuratively speaking). Some will obliviously continue eating when disturbed (even while you’re moving them), while others will get agitated and move away, and yet others will simply freeze.

There’s probably much more to it than ‘personality’ but it bears thinking about.

Roses and death and fruit.

Tags

cabbages, elder, leaf-mining midge, pyrethrum, raspberries, roses, strawberries, waterlily

The rose page is complete now; I’ve added pictures and descriptions of all the roses I have.

…actually, not all. A couple years back a wild rose popped up under a juniper bush and I dug it up and put it in a pot. It hasn’t bloomed yet so I’m not sure what species it is, or if I’ll keep it when I figure it out.

Aside from that, the summer blooms are still in full swing, and the vegetables are doing okay. I’m so eager to try out some homemade insecticide. Last year I sowed some pyrethrum daisies (Tanacetum cinerariifolium) and now the flowers are cut and dried. I’m looking forward to spraying the cabbages because the pyrethrum won’t kill anything beneficial on those. A pity I can’t spray the roses, but the bees do visit them. Perhaps I could try it on the water lilies to control the leaf-mining midges. I never did get fish, so saturating the tub ponds with pyrethrum should be an interesting experiment.

I think I will have to replace the strawberry plants though. A fellow Master Gardener gave me them last year because I was tired of the variety I had before and wanted to try a different kind. Unfortunately, these ones seem to be the wild strawberries…the fruit are about the same size as my fingernail and I just can’t be bothered. In fact, there are wild strawberries growing all over the place in the rest of the garden, so I’m certainly not going to cultivate more. Things should be going on sale soon at the garden centres, so with any luck I’ll be able to find something to try.

I do have a couple of wild black raspberry bushes (Rubus occidentalis) though, and those are cropping like mad right now. I know it sounds crazy, but the taste of the fruit (or possibly the seeds; they’ve got lots of seeds) always reminds me of mayonnaise.

Oh, and one batch of elderflower wine is on the go. I’ll probably start another batch in a couple days.