Sow There!

For a gardener, it's easy to get giddy about spring. Everything is blooming right now. Tulips are just now fading. The sage and lavender are just opening up. My purple irises I got from the Style editor eight years ago are going crazy. There are so many blooms I've been walking around to the neighbors asking if they wanted a vase full. Today I brought a huge vase of irises into the offices and passed them out like candy on Halloween.
Many weeks ago I planted tomato seeds in peat pellets. I transplanted them into peat pots and now have 20 tomato plants on the front porch. They're about three inches tall. I'm quite certain that my mother and some other friends will come by and ask me for one or two or four or more. So I figure we'll have between 12 and 15 tomato plants this year.
I'm really please Tommy is getting into gardening.
He’s been motivated lately to clear out the weeds in the side yard, where we plan to put the tomatoes. It was cute when I got home one day and he had drawn a diagram where he envisioned squash, cucumbers, radishes and perhaps watermelon. I think that’s a bit ambitious, but don’t want to squelch his enthusiasm.

Salty solanaceae
I was bragging to my coworker Sally this week about all of the tomato plants on my front porch.
She mentioned that her mother taught her to drop a handful of Epsom salt at the bottom of each hole before planting.
Sally couldn’t remember what the purpose of this ritual was, but she trusted her mother’s advice.
I did some Internet surfing and found a Web site for the Epsom Salt Industry Council. I kid you not: http://www.epsomsaltcouncil.org. Located in Charlotte, N.C., the council maintains a Web site that speaks of all things golden about Epsom salt.
The chemical is Magnesium sulfate. Most of us who are old enough think of Epsom salt as something Gramma recommended putting in the bath water. Before Calgon became a brand name, people would use Epsom salt to soak their feet after a long day of waitressing.
But apparently it’s also used in gardening. It’s most useful to bump up the magnesium content of soil for crops such as potatoes, roses and tomatoes.
Several gardening chat rooms had dialogue about whether or not people should use Epsom salt each year, and several people suggested that the gardener conduct a soil test before choosing whether to use the soil amendment.
That’s all well and good, but I’ll just trust Sally’s mother’s advice and try it this year.
Because the world is a wacky and wonderful place, I came across some other fascinating facts I’m sure readers are eager to devour.
Epsom salts originate from Epsom, England, where in 1618 a farmer noticed that his cows weren’t drinking water because it was bitter. However, according to wikipedia.org, the farmer noticed that the water healed scratches and ashes.
Then the legendary journey of Epsom salt began.
The Epsom Salt Industry Council credits the stuff with fixing all sorts of problems, such as helping cure ingrown toenails, easing joint pain, helping prevent migraines. I’m sure if more people got tuned into Epsom salt, we’d be a lot closer to world peace.
There are several “recipes” for the use of Epsom salt, including two tablespoons per gallon for feeding house plants, one tablespoon per foot of plant height for roses (every two weeks) and on and on and on.

Spa treatment
In addition to soaking, the Industry Council helpfully provided some other uses, such as mixing Epsom salt with petroleum jelly and lavender oil for a skin exfoliant. Also, mixing it with cleansing cream for use to clean out facial pores. Apparently, these techniques are used by high-end spas.
These all sound like great home-made gifts to give as Christmas presents. Just pick out some cheap, pretty jars and make some home-made labels.

Posted by Heather Hacking at 05:04 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I can’t remember what I was looking for on the Internet, but I came across this cool product called VegiForms. This is a plastic mold that you put on vegetables as they are growing. As the vegetable matures, it molds to the shape. The molds come in five different shapes, as far as I could see from the various Web sites where they are sold, including the face of a garden elf, an ear of corn, diamond, heart and a funny face called “pickle puss.”
They work for veggies such as eggplants, zucchini, yellow squash and cucumbers.
This sound like a blast to bring a molded vegetable to somebody’s dinner party.
Only, I think the makers could have branched out a bit.

There’s the obvious phallic shapes that come to mind. But why not other shapes as well, such as Carl Molden’s nose. I’d like to see a vegetable shaped like a Pez dispenser, the Statue of Liberty, the peace sign, dragonflies and the lead singer from Twisted Sister.
The thing is, VegiForms aren’t cheap. Most I saw sold for $10.95 and then shipping and handling.
That made me think that maybe this would work with ordinary plastic bottles. The Aquafina bottle on my desk has some swirling design at both the top and at the bottom. I think I’ll try these out this year and see if it work. Especially with zucchini, those puppies will turn into the Good Year blimp if you don’t harvest them when they’re small.
How much more fun it would be to go to a dinner party and bring a giant basket of molded veggies.

Loving lilac
A reader named Claudia from Oroville e-mailed and said she was having some trouble with her lilac plant. She’s had the bush for more than 10 years but never seems to get very many blooms. She was wondering if she was doing something wrong.
My mother had a philosophy she shared with me at some point when I was growing up. When your kids do something bad, tell yourself that you raised them the best that you could. When they do something outstanding, take full credit.
It’s the same for plants.
Plants can’t talk so we don’t have the ability to know exactly what they need.
Searching on the Internet I came across a site called “Hortiscope” at the North Dakota State University extension service.
A guy named Ron Smith is a horticulturist and has a page with dozens of questions about growing lilacs.
One theme repeated again and again on this Web site is that lilacs need full sun, little fertilizer and careful pruning. Pruning should be done right after flowering, and never in summer or fall, or you’ll trim off the buds for next year.
The horticulturist also advises that lilacs transplant well, so if Claudia has her lilac under the sycamore tree, for example, she might want to move it. But she needs to wait until the bush is dormant in winter.
Right now the leaves on my lilac bush are just starting to unfold. It’s pretty fun to watch. But then, everything is pretty fun to watch right now.

Spring is here
Chico really doesn’t get much better than how it is right now, right this time of year.
We had our first barbecue this week on one of those days when it was just the perfect temperature out at night. My best friend lit a bunch of candles and put them out on the patio and there weren’t any mosquitoes out.
A few of the daffodils are still blooming and the tulips my friend Kip gave me have just popped open.
Because we buy one plant or six-pack each time we go to a big-box store, the yard is really starting to shape up.
Now we’re shifting from the short lived annuals like primrose and English daisies and switching to the summer stalwarts such as salvia, zinnia and cosmos.
Gardeners should take a few minutes each day to smile and enjoy the perfect weather, because in just a few short weeks, we’ll all be whining and wilting in front of the swamp cooler.

Posted by Heather Hacking at 04:58 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Our driving directions started to become “clues.”
Take a right on this road with the sign partially obscured by shrubbery.
Then travel about 100 feet to a curve in the road.

Hmm. My car doesn’t have a special gauge for measuring the number of feet.
Then the road turned to gravel and we weren’t sure if we should keep going. The directions didn’t say the road would turn to gravel.
The clues said to go about half a mile. At one point we saw a couple of trucks that had turned around. We all greeted each other and knew we would see each other later.
The wedding was being held in a meadow way out in the middle of a gorgeous nowhere.
They asked us if we knew where they were going and everyone laughed. At least there was comfort in being lost with other people driving around.
Note to self: If having a wedding in a remote location, give GPS coordinates on the invitation.

One driver of a truck took charge and started barreling up a different dirt road. We followed until we saw a bunch of cars parked.
The wedding was for my friends Hanina and Aric.

Planning is half the fun
I’d been looking forward to the event for weeks. It’s fun to hear a girlfriend all giddy as each of the details unfold. I felt valued as I lent encouragement and excitement when I could hear in her voice that she was getting stressed.
It was supposed to be a simple affair, you see, which is never the case. We chatted every few days as the details added up. You know, recruiting her brother who used to be a chef to handle the tri-tip. Getting someone to make 18 million gallons of pasta salad. Finding friends who are a photographer, videographer, classic guitar player. Buying disposable cameras for each table and on and on and on and on.
As the day grew closer, we would only chat when she and her fiancé were driving around buying things. She began to sound a little breathless.
I don’t remember how the conversation started, but she said she hadn’t thought about flowers yet.
“Don’t buy flowers,” I barked, trying to have her hear me over the static of the drive-through fast-food intercom.
“Flowers are a huge waste of money. They only last a few days. Why not buy live flowering plants and put them on every table and just have your bouquet be a gorgeous arrangement?”
Between her ordering two chicken soft tacos, I could tell she was delighted with this idea.
Her new husband also loves plants.
When we arrived at the wedding, I was really pleased that each table had a lovely flowering plant as the centerpiece. Instead of those little candy almonds wrapped in mesh, she had seed packets at every place setting. They had printed a special message on each packet, telling the guest that when the plants grew, they were helping Hanina and Aric’s love grow.
Almost brings tears to my eyes as I write this.
A co-worker said that when her son was married, he and his betrothed went to the 99 Cent Store and bought clear plastic bowls and placed goldfish in them. These provided an interesting motion in the center of the tables.
I’d be curious to hear about other people’s ideas for wedding table centerpieces.
Another very special touch at this wedding was that they had a play station set up for the children, with crafts and Play-Doh. They also passed out bubbles right before the bride and groom came down the aisle.

Labors of love
I think the wedding was a success, but I’m not totally certain. The ceremony was lovely and we stayed for one dance. But as our gift to them, Tommy and I had volunteered to be the dish patrol. This involved recruiting people who had been at the wedding shower and asking them to help us gather up the plates. Then everyone hauled giant stacks of dishes up this steep incline to their house, where there was a kitchen the size of what you would see in an airplane.
To make the job more enjoyable, we swiped one of the bottles of organic wine to help us whistle while we worked.
By the time we were mostly done, it was dark, the party was over and I was a bit tipsy.
Reminder to self: When I get married, I need to remember that paper plates are NOT tacky.

Baby names
Noting that my friends have odd names, I decided to look up their meaning. I found a Web site, www.babynamesworld.com where you can punch in the name. Turns out Hanina means “gracious,” which is pretty appropriate. And Aric means “eternal ruler.”
I could have a lot more fun with this but will keep it short.
When I looked up Tommy, the Web site said it meant “twin.”
And Heather, of course, is a weed that clings to fog-shrouded cliffs.
So if Aric and Hanini want to have children who are rich and famous, they can name one Eton and the other Bertha.

Posted by Heather Hacking at 02:59 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

A reader sent me this. I recently learned that birds can get drunk off of fermented berries, such as pyracantha. They literally pass out drunk for a while, sleep it off, hopefully don't get eaten and then recover.

This video is of a squirrel looking like it just crawled out of Duffy's after midnight. It's funny at first but then you feel sad for it.

Posted by Heather Hacking at 01:50 PM | Permalink

I’m having an ethical debate with myself.
A few weeks ago I planted tomatoes in peat pots and they have sprouted in the windowsill.
This is incredibly fun, especially when I have been donning my top-coat to stave off the freeze snaps.
The tomatoes have been a fairly good source of joy. I rotate them every day a quarter turn and give them a little bit of water.
Every morning Tommy and I take a garden walk and look at what’s waking up.
Right now it’s the daffodils, some that have bloomed and others that are “pregnant.”
This week we noticed the purple bearded irises had “popped.” It’s a little early for them, but then, they surprise me every year.
I’m proud to say that I’ve given Tommy the gardening bug and he’s like a filly in the starting gates at the Kentucky Derby —ready to get started on the spring garden, even though we may have a few more dreary days before its safe to put too many thing in the ground.

Recycling
My coworker Sally is a frequent source of gardening inspiration. She has a rather large yard. Each summer about the time I am lamenting that I don’t have enough tomatoes to make salsa to freeze for the winter, she brings in a big box of tomatoes. Often, because she knows it will delight me, she gives me first pick before putting the box in the lunch room.
Invariably I sneak back to the lunch room at the end of the day and take a few handfuls more.
I don’t want to be greedy, but if no one has snagged them by the end of the day, I figure they’re fair game.
This week Sally brought me a present of her leftover seeds from last year. Many of them are tomato seeds, but there’s also squash, sweet peppers and cayenne.
She was sort of apologetic that they are seeds from last year. However, there is something great about that. If they don’t sprout, it’s not my fault. And if they do, added bonus.
My plan is to plant them out in the yard without fussing with the peat pots, the windowsill and worrying about whether they are kept wet. If they grow, they grow.

Round-about
On to the dilemma.
With Tommy helping in the yard, we have double the energy to cultivate the yard. That means we can stretch out a bit and add more plants. With more space we could try pumpkins, more squash plants, try again at cucumbers.
Funny how you don’t notice some things unless you have a plan. Thursday morning we were looking around the yard and noticed how much Velcro weed there was growing out by the end of the lot. The weed is also interspersed throughout the established plants in the yard.
Velcro weed is the vernacular for that weed that sticks to your pant leg and is spread from here to China by the tiniest bit of it dangling off the tail of neighborhood cats.
Literally, we could spend 14 days with hoes in hand, getting callouses and needing back rubs to eradicate it.
I felt badly to even be thinking about it but I mentioned the word this week, almost in a whisper: Roundup.
We looked at each other a little shocked but intrigued. I pride myself in composting, recycling, and only using slug bait when I’m completely at wits end.
But thinking about expanding the garden area it seemed so practical just to nuke it one time.
I called up Fabulous Phil, who is back from his world travels and renowned for his organic gardening.
Phil assured me I wasn’t a bad person for having this thought. It’s not like I was contemplating robbing the local minimart or TPing the house of those neighbors who didn’t invite us to their really fun, loud, late party.
But Phil also gave words of encouragement for finding other ways to deal with the seemingly overwhelming stand of weeds. He quoted his grandmother who like to say, “If you have to eat an elephant, start nibbling on the toe.”
Phil said its just a matter of starting a little bit at a time.
“Why don’t you and Tommy just drink some coffee every morning and putting in 20 minutes.”
Well, in reality, its not me who pulls the weeds. I’m more the creative person behind the gardening, meaning I like to putz around, stick seeds in the ground and let him dig the big holes and get mud on his knees.
Sally also had some advice, to lay down black plastic or use about three sheets of newspaper on the offending area. Our paper sells the ends of the giant newspaper rolls for a nominal fee. These can be secured with rocks and deprive the weeds of sunlight until they die.
I’m still contemplating my options and am curious to hear what readers have to say about this very important issue.

Posted by Heather Hacking at 02:31 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

I recently wrote about Valentine's Day and made a point that I thought it was extortion and that having a day when people feel obligated to shower their loved one with affection is silly. (See Sow There! 2-23). Romantic gestures should catch us off guard, not feel like a chore.

Dad had some spontaneity on his own when he wrote me this e-mail.

FROM DAD:

It’s actually becoming clear that you are being pressured at the risk of your life to pooh-pooh valentines and its positive effects on the flower industry.

I understand the disdain for the card people who ruthlessly destroy our "woody" friends in the name of romance, but I do not understand how a committed "gardener" could eschew the growing of roses and other mythically romantic flowers.

I assume that the "parking lot" lobby has sent you the severed head of an orchid, accompanied by cryptic notes inferring fish and sleeping. Or perhaps it is that group building those slick, high-density condo complexes who need the arable land occupied by our green friends.

While pointing out the frivolity of 5-inch heels, and navel cut dresses, one should remember their "roots" .... so to speak.

A concerned gardener

(Dad)

Posted by Heather Hacking at 03:16 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

For Valentine’s Day Tommy was under strict orders not to spend money on anything frivolous. In the newsroom we watched last week as dozens of roses came through the front door. That’s really fun and I’m happy for all those people who send flowers. The guy who delivers them must look forward to that 14th day in February when he gets to deliver bundles of joy.
That’s about as cool as a job as being a midwife.
One co-worker came over to show the card she had received from her boyfriend. She just wanted to gush with a girlfriend and share the sweet sentiments.

Tommy did exactly the right thing and abided by my wishes. About 7 p.m. I was starving and since we hadn’t made expensive reservations at one of those frou-frou restaurants we went to an Asian buffet. After two hours of totally gnoshing, I turned to him and smiled.
“Hey honey. We just saved $100.”
Then we went downtown and walked around counting couples on the street who were holding hands and making goo-goo eyes at each other.
The other entertainment was to look into the windows of the nice restaurants and gawk at all the “beautiful people,”
When we were walking back to the car, hand-in-hand, we saw this really funny scene with a young woman dressed up Cosmopolitan magazine hot. She had a huge slit in her dress and some four-inch red stiletto heals. The poor gal had obviously dressed to impress, but sadly was having a hard time navigating those bumpy red sidewalks downtown. Luckily, her date caught her just as she was about to boff it on Second Street.
The things we do for fashion.
It was also cute to look in the windows of the fancy restaurants and see lovers off all ages holding hands across tables and staring into each others’ eyes.
It certainly made me want to squeeze Tommy’s hand more tightly.

Sweet sentiments
A few days later, apparently unable to contain himself, Tommy splurged and bought me a $6 plant, a cineraria. He couldn’t help it. He was excited, and called me up at work to describe it.
“It has about 100 blooms,” he said with the excitement of a kid. “Seriously, there’s like 100 blooms.”
I looked it up on the Internet to daydream ahead of time where it should be planted in the yard.
Although, after my research I don’t have high hopes for it.
The info. I found said they do best in temperatures between 55-65 degrees and won’t tolerate temps. below 45.
That pretty much rules out the extremes in Chico. For now it’s on the front porch and I’ll take it inside if it looks like it will be another frosty day.
But, for now, it’s blooming like crazy. About 10 of the 100-or so buds have opened. They’re a very bright magenta flower, a little larger in diameter than a quarter, with white flowers.
The plant is in the daisy family and need bright light but no direct sun. Artificial lights are suggested. They are also prone to attract white flies, aphids. leaf miners, thrips and demons from beyond the grave.
As I walk around the newsroom this week, there are still a few vases with the red roses, but most of them are getting near the end of their peak glory.
My plant, on the other hand, is slowly coming into its prime, which makes me happy each morning.
Alas, it will likely start its steady decline in a few weeks. But for $6, it’s been worth the smiles it has brought.

Posted by Heather Hacking at 04:19 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)