Tag Archives: perennials

Protecting the Crown – A Bedtime Story

05 Wednesday Dec 2012

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Here at the farm, it’s finally time for bed. Fall has been long and warm, which has been helpful as we scurry to button up the house. Lack of consistently cold weather has delayed the last of our garden chores, however. Several hard freezes with temperatures falling to at least 25 degrees are needed before tucking in the perennials with their winter mulch.

Yields from our vegetable gardens surpassed all expectations this year. Our baby apple trees settled themselves into the orchard and thrived. The flowers and herbs in our window boxes grew enthusiastically, well into the fall. Pots of annuals were so gorgeous as we approached frosts, I wished for a heated sun room, so I could bring them all inside.

The greatest delight is the condition of the soil in the gardens. Instead of appearing depleted, having given its all to support such a bountiful harvest, the soil is soft and rich and ready to go again. Mulching gardens, trees and all my container plants with Premium Ground Cover has made all the difference. (www.PremiumGroundCover.com) 100% natural and heat-treated to kill weed seeds, this mix of chopped straw, timothy and alfalfa hay is nutrient rich, and my plants and soil love it.

As cold weather approached, Premium Ground Cover was my obvious choice for protecting strawberries and other perennials from winter stress. The purpose of mulching perennials, particularly newly planted, shallow rooted and marginally hardy perennials is not to keep them warm, but to keep them cold. During inevitable temperature fluctuations and periodic winter thaws, soil expands and contracts, heaving plants upward, exposing tender crowns and roots to drying winds and cold. Several inches of loose mulch applied to the soil late in the fall helps keep soil temperatures cold, conserves soil moisture and provides protection from the wind. Additionally, mulched soil warms more slowly in the spring, keeping plants from breaking dormancy during an early warm spell.

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Putting down the mulch is a pleasure. It’s soft and chopped short, so it stays where I want it and does not blow away, even in the stiff wind blowing on the day we put our gardens to bed. The recyclable plastic bag is easy to close, so unused mulch is neatly stored for later.

We’re ready for winter now, I suppose. Long days outside in the gardens will be replaced with shorter days on the snowshoe trails. Inside, we’ll be researching insect pests, studying seed catalogs, and dreaming about next year’s gardens.

Good night, everybody.

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Henry, king of the farm, inspecting the mulch.

Redemption

03 Friday Aug 2012

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My father’s father was a plumber, but Gup could build or fix anything. He taught us, “Always use the right tool for the right job.” In other words, don’t try to drive a nail with the flat side of a wrench. Whether planting a tree, wiring a house or making a crib for a great-grandchild, he would repeat, “If you don’t do it right, it will never come out right.”

Those words rang in my memory as I surveyed my strawberry bed early this summer. The previous year had been unusually chaotic, with insufficient opportunities to tend the gardens. When the strawberries should have been setting buds for a plentiful harvest in the next growing season, they were busy competing for nutrients with weeds we didn’t have time to pull. Although I weeded and mulched and tried to make amends this spring, the damage had been done, and this summer’s yield was meager.

Determined to set things right, we began a proper renovation of the bed as soon as the last strawberry had been picked. After mowing off the leaves, we tilled under all but two narrow rows of the youngest crowns, then weeded and thinned to allow plenty of room for runners and daughter plants. We fed them, shoveled the best of my finished compost around them, mulched and watered.

Surely, it would have been easier to scrap the whole bed and start over in a weed-free plot next spring. That would be the recommendation of many gardening resources, and I considered that option before choosing to put my efforts into renovation anyway. My decision means I will fight every stubborn weed until it gives up or the ground freezes. My vigilance will continue until late fall when I blanket the bed with  Premium Ground Cover, which will protect the crowns from the cold and windy winter.

So, why did I choose the more difficult way? Maybe because the daughter plants from last year rooted well and are strong. Maybe because beginning again with new plants next year gives us no berries until the following year – such a long time to wait. Certainly because I believe my persistence will redeem what I couldn’t do right the first time, and in the garden, persistence is the right tool for the job.

Poor Things…

08 Sunday Jul 2012

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“I want all these lupines out of here.” Katie was emphatic. At my daughter-in-law’s new home, the flower garden was a tangle of runaway perennials. Katie had a different vision, and she wanted the whole mess to go away.

At my farm, an overgrown area next to our property line desperately needs renovation. I want nothing more than a sea of lupines. This was clearly a case of one person’s misery being another’s happy day. Katie’s lupines were blooming in all their white and purple glory. I wanted to move them, but how?

With so much to do that day, we knew we had to dig them out in a hurry, preserving as much soil as possible for Katie’s garden. The taproots certainly would be damaged. Worst of all, their intended new home wasn’t ready. They would have to be transplanted into a temporary bed, then moved again in the spring – if they survived. “I hope you’re tough,” I told them as I stabbed my shovel mercilessly into the ground.

Back at the farm, with more pressing chores waiting, I stood the lupines in a deep bin and gave them a long drink. There wasn’t time to plant or even to cut them back. Their chances seemed bleak. “Hang on, or it’s the compost pile for you,” I warned as I pushed the bin into the garage to keep them out of the sun.

The following days were unusually hot and windy. Transplanting would have been futile. Although the lupines were watered and shaded, they wilted badly. My expectations dwindled.

Four scorching days later, with the temporary bed ready and rain in the forecast, my dear husband dragged the bin outside, bedraggled lupins already beginning to stink of rotting leaves. It was evening, and the blackflies were ravenous. Waving and swatting to little avail, we dug holes, pruned and planted with more speed than care. “Be brave,” I encouraged, as I tucked each one in with a good blanket of my favorite hay/straw mulch, Premium Ground Cover by Lucerne Farms.

Water is the most important thing now. If the soil remains moist and cool, Katie’s lupins just might survive their rude uprooting and bloom again, here at my three acre farm.