Sow There! Making less of resolutions and watering your plants, Jan. 5, 2018

This Vinca rosea looks unnaturally fresh for January. By this time most years the freeze would have turned the summer shiner to mush.
This Vinca rosea looks unnaturally fresh for January. By this time most years the freeze would have turned the summer shiner to mush. Photo by Heather Hacking

On the last day of the old year, a few friends gathered for a celebratory grease-fest at Jack’s restaurant downtown.

Talk turned to self-improvement, resolutions and one-word affirmations. Katie shared that she chooses a single word for the upcoming year, and then tries to be mindful of the word in all her endeavors. This year her word is “less.”

Less stuff. Less worry. Less fuss. You could go on and on, but that would defeat the purpose.

I had no doubt that my friend Katie is “trendy,” but it turns out her one-word idea is an actual trend.

A few days later I noticed the topic: “New Year’s word,” was literally “trending” on social media. I would credit Katie, but I think she would prefer “less” credit.

STARTING AGAIN

Resolutions are cool and I am resolute that I will make one — in my own sweet time. But first I want to finish eating all my Christmas chocolate. By the time Chinese New Year rolls around, many of my friends have finished the cycle of heart-felt promises and broken promises.

Even if good intentions fall flat, I think the New Year/fresh start things is a grand idea. We all get to make a fresh start, some of us try this again and again and again.

All days are arbitrary in the larger scheme of life. If we need a day on the calendar to prompt us to clean out the garage, join a gym or stop being a big jerk, I say seize the day.

Personally, I have one resolution this year, to pass the Reading Instruction Competence Test (RICA) which is one of the big hurdles ahead before I can become an elementary school teacher.

As soon as I finish those chocolates I’ll start studying.

LET IT RAIN

The rain this week was nice, but we’ll need more of it before we have enough. Normally, late fall is a really good time to buy new perennial plants for the garden. The rains come, roots grow, flowers arrive in the spring. However, if you planted something in October, those plants sat there and withered. Sure, many plants are dormant now, but your plants may also be dead.

DON’T SAY THE D WORD

The dreaded D word came up during a party I attended before Christmas. For some reason, we whispered the word “drought,” in that way one lowers their tone when asking about an absent, estranged husband.

It’s too early to talk about dreaded words, but my friend who is an almond farmer said she’s already irrigating her orchard. She opened her eyes wide with worry and spoke in a hushed tone. I dared not ask about the groundwater elevation in her well.

In December, it was dark when I left the house and dark when I got home. I should have also noticed that it was dry and that my potted plants were dying.

Luckily, I dragged the hose around the patio before I lost anything with sentimental value.

Paul Rogers, one of my favorite reporters from the dreaded drought years, reports that it’s too early to become really, really worried about dry weather. We still have January and February (and March) before we think about putting the 5-gallon bucket back in the shower. Yet, I’m glad I didn’t spend all my Christmas cash on new bare-root fruit trees.

Tuesday, reporter Laura Urseny noted that Chico folks have still been conserving water vs. pre-drought days, which makes me think all of those lawn-to-drought-garden conversions have permanently reduced local water use. Or maybe more people are forgetting to water their plants.

The bottom line is that if you haven’t checked your plants lately, give them a drink. Fill up the bird bath while you’re at it.

The upside to wacky weather has been that we also have not had a really hard freeze. When I watered my potted plants, I noticed the Vinca rosea was still flowering. Normally at this time of year the cold weather has turned this summer beauty to mush. I don’t know whether to enjoy the extra blooms, or go back to worrying.

Tagged | Comments Off on Sow There! Making less of resolutions and watering your plants, Jan. 5, 2018

Sow There!: Worms, chicken costumes and things to plug in, Dec. 29, 2017

Red wigglers, they certainly can worm their way into someone's heart.
Red wigglers, they certainly can worm their way into someone’s heart. Photo by Heather Hacking
The rubber chicken finally, fully adorned.
The rubber chicken finally, fully adorned.Photo by Heather Hacking

After all the planning and careful decision-making, it’s gratifying when a holiday gift is a big hit. For my niece and her hubby, the big moment arrived late Christmas morning. The three children had unwrapped Minecraft socks, Nerf guns and art supplies, building a pile of wrapping paper that blocked the front door. These were great gifts and many moments were spent reminding the young boys that they were not allowed to point a Nerf gun inside the house.

After a snack break, (apples and peanut butter) each child was given a wrapped gift, which by shape and size the children guessed was a DVD.

Nope, it was a video game, with extra DVDs for extra video game add-ons.

Minecraft.

Just so you know, I do know about Minecraft. The third-graders in Miss Clark’s class wore Minecraft T-shirts and read Minecraft books. They talked about mysterious (to me) digital weapons and murmured about zombies and beet-loving pigs. However, I had never played the game. In fact, I have still never played the game.

“This is an Xbox game,” the eldest child in my family deduced, holding the Minecraft game in her hand. “We don’t have an Xbox player.”

The kids scanned the remainder of the presents under the tree. There must be an Xbox in the unwrapped pile of presents. Yet, all that remained was an unwrapped Pepperidge farms sausage and a pair of socks.

The dad of the house stood up and unveiled the Xbox in a smooth swoop of his hand. The new center of the family’s universe had been hidden in plain view.

He had hooked up the electronics the night before and hidden it under a wrapped box with a cut-out bottom.

The youngest of the three children literally bounced up and down for about half a minute, which was enough time for his mom to grab and press record on her cellphone.

I think this was the last time I made eye contact with the family that day. Soon there were four sets of hands on Xbox controllers and distracted responses to my questions about how the game was played.

The 6-year-old child appeared to have completely forgotten that he cried the night before when he opened four separate presents containing artificial poop.

“This is the best ever,” my niece said, while reviewing the video of her son bouncing up and down in a joy-filled Minecraft meltdown.

WARM WORM WISHES

I know how she felt because I found the perfect gift for my mom’s boyfriend.

Thank you, Worm Farm in Durham, for popping that pound of red wiggler worms into the mail before the new year. When I arrived at mom’s house on Christmas Eve, I was led to the garden to tour the compost bin/worm production area at the side of the house.

Mom’s beau, Steve, showed off his two matching circles made of chicken wire, each about 3 feet in diameter.

The fall leaves haven’t lost their color, and the bins looked like they were filled with large-sized confetti.

When he reached under the leaves barehanded, I saw that the red wiggler worms had found a cozy spot to reproduce, eat garbage and obtain happiness.

Steve looked pretty darn pleased as well.

Mom also had her triumphant gift-giving moment. She likes to sew and when I was a child she made amazingly trendy outfits for my Barbie dolls. Barbie had camping outfits and ’20s flapper costumes, Little House on the Prairie skirts with matching aprons …

This year, mom created a red cape and matching Santa hat for my rubber chicken. It’s a seasonal costume so I’m hoping she is inspired to create a happy bonnet and sundress in time for the rubber chicken’s Easter outings.

RED WIGGLERS

A few more things should be noted about worms. Red wigglers do not dive into the soil like the night crawlers we see while digging a hole.

R. Wigglers like it best about 6 inches under the soil. This means that any time you need to grab a fistful of worms for a small child, it’s as easy as unveiling an Xbox. The worms reproduce rapidly by producing yellow-ish, pearly balls that contain tiny worms.

(If you accidentally spot worm eggs while planting snow peas in a third-grade classroom, you can easily lie to children and say they have discovered fertilizer pellets.)

Wigglers love coffee and melons, according to UncleJimsWormFarm.com. They’ll do well in Northern California’s cool temperatures, but it’s the heat in my mom’s hometown that might require some TLC.

Uncle Jim suggests creating shade and remembering that heat will dry out the compost/worm bed. Add more water in the summer.

I think I’ll wait a few months, then head over to Steve’s house with a bucket. By then the worms should have reproduced enough baby worms that he won’t notice if some go missing. If all goes well, mom will have had time to craft a summer safari outfit for the rubber chicken.

Tagged , , | Comments Off on Sow There!: Worms, chicken costumes and things to plug in, Dec. 29, 2017

Sow There!: Gifts to buy when you intended to not buy gifts, Dec. 22, 2017

This floater is a Christmas gift for a 6-year-old family member.
This floater is a Christmas gift for a 6-year-old family member. Photo by Heather Hacking

This week I went shopping for a thank you gift for my amazingly kind and gracious mentor teacher. My thought was that I would buy “a plant that would not die.”

I’m not saying she’s an “air-fern-only” type gal. In fact, I have every reason to believe she nurtures most living things.

However, she’s busy planning ways to educate the future thinkers of the world and may not want to drag a hose around during winter break.

Because I love plants, I’d love to give them to everyone I know. However, sometimes people think that if I give them a plant I expect them to keep it alive until the release of “Guardians of the Galaxy XVI.”

I visited the Little Red Hen Nursery and the gal in the red apron was honest and helpful. She pointed toward one particular row of “will not die” plants. Hardy perennials, she said.

As we exchanged words, we each exhaled puffs of smoke in the frigid air, as if we were sucking on electronic cigarettes. Maybe the end of the year is not prime time for buying plants, I concluded, as I bought a gallon-sized dianthus for myself and headed into the Little Red Hen gift shop.

A better idea for a plant-related gift this time of year is to give a pot filled with dirt. My friend Chrissy called recently. She had lemons waiting for me, and I traded her a container of soil.

“Put this in your yard somewhere and let it get watered by the rain,” I said with the instructive, yet kind teacher tone I have been learning these past several months.

Of course, I tucked bulbs in the container and in several months she’ll realize I handed her a pot filled with hope. With any luck, we might actually receive some actual rain.

TWISTED GIFTS

Other items on my holiday shopping list include worms and fake poop.

Mom has a tremendously likeable boyfriend, and the merry couple recently built a compost pile.

I’ll overlook the fact that I have been lecturing my mother for about a dozen years to save her kitchen scraps and improve the tilth of her soil. She ignored me until she met Steve, and now she has embraced composting like it’s the latest new fad.

She’s happy, their fingernails are dirty and that’s all that matters.

The fact is, I had vowed not to buy presents this year, except for the family members younger than 12.

However, my mom’s boyfriend continues to do really nice things for me — likely out of pure goodness of his heart.

He heroically mowed my lawn when it was a yard high and hauled away a trailer filled with junk from my yard. During my recent trip to UC Davis to reconfirm my cancer-free status, Steve drove my mother and I. He even waited in the car while we toured the UC Davis hospital with my rubber chicken.

Steve’s definitely on the list for a thank you gift.

When I asked mom what Steve might like, she said she had no idea. She tried to secretly buy him a leaf blower, and then he started talking about buying a leaf blower.

“Do NOT buy a leaf blower right before Christmas,” Mom said, which should have been an obvious hint.

“But there are leaves out there now,” Steve said logically.

She gave him the leaf blower as a late Thanksgiving gift.

“Could you give him something for the (new-and-now-cherished) compost pile?” she said, brainstorming out loud. “Maybe some additive or something, for the compost pile?”

I’m on it.

Worms.

We have it all in Northern California — world famous ice cream, award-winning beer, California’s longest river and a worm farm.

During my many years as farm reporter, I had several excuses to visit the Worm Farm in Durham, an old turkey ranch that now supplies worms, worm castings and supersoil for worm connoisseurs throughout the country. A pound of red wigglers (worms) will arrive on mom’s boyfriend’s doorstep sometimes in early January. I’m quite certain he will not think to buy these himself.

As for the fake poop, that’s another silly family story.

My great-nephew (yep, I’m a “great” aunt), has been asked repeatedly about what he would like for Christmas.

“Poop,” he has said after repeated inquiries.

He’s 6 and he thinks he’s hilarious.

When they’re out and about, my Mom will make jokes about following dogs around to try to bag his Christmas present.

In a concerted effort to teach him a lesson, and share in a family joke, each of us is tracking down plastic poop. We’ve been surprised at how many varieties of the lesser-sought Christmas item exist in novelty stores, and even big-box stores. I tracked down a disgustingly life-size specimen called “The floater.”

Depending on how things go, we may or may not provide him with other Christmas gifts.

SHOP LOCAL

If you haven’t located that perfect holiday gift, you still have Saturday to shop at the Saturday Chico farmers market, Second and Wall streets, 7:30 a.m. to 1 p.m. Everyone needs food and you can get some dandy stuff, grown by real people with local dirt under their fingernails.

Tagged , | Comments Off on Sow There!: Gifts to buy when you intended to not buy gifts, Dec. 22, 2017

Sow There!: Take the lazy gardener pledge, then blame it on tryptophan Dec. 17, 2017

If you’re one of those people who thinks you need to do everything right for the holiday, you could be heading for a swim in the nut bowl.

Possible to-do list: Buy thoughtful gifts, decorate the tree, write holiday cards, bake cookies, ring the Salvation Army bell, host holiday party, attend community holiday events, dance like a crazy fool (Santa hat optional) at a Yule Logs concert …

By the time the actual holiday arrives, you’re conked out on the couch. Nope, it’s not the tryptophanfrom the turkey. You’re just exhausted from trying to be a holiday superwoman.

(Read more about the myth of tryptophan below.)

My vote is that if a holiday tradition involves more than an hour of work, includes idling in traffic or began when my Danish relatives landed in Minnesota, you can forget it happened. If you’re really nostalgic, you can record the tradition in a whimsical book intended for your ancestors.

Personally, I have new holiday traditions, like the aforementioned Yule Logs concert.

It was easy to delete “bake holiday fudge” from the to-do list. Each year I tried this silly maneuver I ended up gaining eight pounds. I still write holiday cards, but my excuse is that I’m a writer.

Yes, I’m getting old, but I think on this point I’ve also gained wisdom. If a tradition has me muttering “happy holidays” between clenched teeth, it’s no longer joy-filled.

BE LAZY, BE A HERO

Laziness. Busy-ness. Messy nester? No reason to feel bad. Some big names in wildlife and conservation have declared that leaving nature’s mess alone is good for the planet. In fact, they’re asking those of us who would rather watch Netflix than raise a rake to keep up the poor work.

The CornellLab, The Nature Conservancy and Habitat Network have asked us to take a Messy Gardening Pledge, https://tinyurl.com/ycx9d6pe.

If you’re too lazy to check out the detail on your own, here’s the lowdown. The groups point out that native bees will make homes in your brush pile. Rotting leaf piles harbor insects, which become food for birds and rodents. If that doesn’t sound nice enough, how about the butterflies that can find homes in your garden detritus?

But wait, there’s more. If you sign up for the pledge, which actually takes just a bit of effort, you could win a Lazy Gardener Window Decal or a poster. The poster is really lovely. Either one could be covered up with dust in no time.

The group doesn’t advocate that you do nothing in your yard until old age. However, winter is a key time for critters that need places to hide and feed. Clean it up in the spring.

TRYTOPHAN MYTH

For decades, my family eats too much, plops in “The Blues Brothers,” and some of us fall asleep on the couch. No one blames the lovely red wine, they blame the tryptophan in the turkey.

Yes, tryptophan is a mood-changing amino acid contained in turkey, however, any other form of poultry contains just as much of the snoozy stuff.

We like to blame our food comas on eating turkey, but the reality is that we’re ready to zonk out on the couch because we stuffed ourselves silly.

I looked it up because I also believed turkey was to blame for the nodding off after the eggnog. WebMD had the not-so-skinny truth. The explanation is a bit complicated, but the bottom line is that the combination of poultry and carbs can cause your eyelids to struggle to stay open.

It takes a lot of energy to digest five handfuls of mixed nuts, two ounces of fancy cheese, a full plate of carbs and poultry and a tiny, tiny slice of eight desserts. If you’re like most folks, you might have washed it all down with a couple of glasses of booze.

By the time Uncle Ned is trying to head to his Jeep to drive back to Kansas, you can barely raise your head to nod goodbye.

Follow garden enthusiast Heather Hacking on Twitter. For email: sowtheregardencolumn@gmail.com, and snail mail, P.O. Box 5166, Chico CA 95927. You can also check out ancient articles at norcalblogs.com/sowthere.

Tagged | Comments Off on Sow There!: Take the lazy gardener pledge, then blame it on tryptophan Dec. 17, 2017

Sow There!: Choosing the right lawn seed for Chico, 12/08/17

Bermuda grass --- evil and invasive, yet still sold at a reputable seed store near you.
Bermuda grass — evil and invasive, yet still sold at a reputable seed store near you.Photo by Jack Kelly Clark, courtesy of University of California Integrated Pest Management

Not too long ago, I wrote a silly, yet heartfelt column about planting grass seed simply to watch it grow. I waxed about the sweet color of new grass — hopeful sprouts stretching toward the sun.

After the recent drought, many of us learned that grass comes and goes and that Bermuda grass is here to stay. Yet, I plant more seed most years because tender, new grass is the next best thing to peeking through the windows in the maternity ward.

In that column, I specifically mentioned Chico blend seed. When I first starting buying this mix, I had not yet started lying about my age.

Why had I made a commitment to this seed and only this seed? I wondered what was in it that makes the seed blend deserve to be sold under the name of my hometown.

I called John Growdon, at Northern Star Mills. The seed is sold in a metal bin with a silver scoop, both which may be older than both John or me.

Chico blend is certainly time-tested, John attested. He’s been at Northern Star Mills for 36 years. The grass seed was in stock before his boots first made an echo in the hulking historic building. A few seeds in the mix have changed, but the basic formula is the same, he said while the cash register clattered in the background.

The mix: Ryegrass, bluegrass and fine-bladed fescue.

This combination grows well in this area, takes wear-and-tear and is pretty. By pretty, that’s where the “fine bladed” fescue comes in. People who want “pretty” tend to like the “softer texture” of the thin-bladed grass, John said.

“It isn’t the most drought-tolerant,” of the special mixes at the store, he said, intending to say more.

“Um. What?” I gulped.

I’ve made mistakes in the past. However, I think this is one of the few mistakes I’ve made over and over again for decades.

If I wanted a soft-textured “pretty” grass, I would make sure I watered my lawn in the summer. I do not know if I am factually correct, but I am going to pretend that my lawn looks terrible because I have been planting the wrong seed.

John took the time to talk about other types of lawn seed available at Northern Star Mills. I’m guessing that’s one of the reasons he has such a faithful clientele; He takes the time to be informative — if people bother to ask questions.

He mentioned Bermuda grass as the most drought tolerant of the seed he carries.

I was quick, but good-humored, with criticism for choosing to stock the noxious seed in the same building where I shop. He agreed but said his customers still buy Bermuda grass for pastures.

Perhaps the Rising Moon blend was next for me, he suggested quickly, changing the subject.

I certainly like the name.

Rising Moon.

It sounds like a record label or a fancy perfume.

Even though the name is not nearly as prestigious as “Chico Blend,” I knew his advice was something I needed to hear.

If Rising Moon would tolerate my neglectful summer watering habits, I should consider it as an alternative to my nearly-dead side yard. The key seed in the mix is a dwarf turf, tall fescue, he explained.

I’m sold.

I’ll be yanking more Bermuda grass this winter. The soil is moist. I’ll have more time when I get done with classes for this semester in the teaching credential program. When I see a bare spot in the future, I’ll head down to Northern Star Mills and share more of my opinions about Bermuda grass with John.

MORE GOODBYES

I’ll be glad to have the break from classes, but I’m realizing that teaching is a difficult job in more ways than I would have imagined. After the end of this month, I’ll have to say goodbye to more than two dozen third graders who I loved from day one. Next semester I’ll student teach at a different school in a different grade level.

We’ve gotten to know each other. I’ve helped them learn — little by little, or by little leaps. Now it’s time for goodbye? It feels like going to summer camp, bonding over marshmallows, and waving from the back of a station wagon.

I also don’t know what I will do without my mentor teacher, Diane Clark, who has provided me more wisdom than I have yet to be able to digest. I hope she knows I have so much more I want to ask. I plan to pester her for advice until she puts a block on her phone.

Follow garden enthusiast Heather Hacking on Twitter. For email: sowtheregardencolumn@gmail.com, and snail mail, P.O. Box 5166, Chico CA 95927.

Tagged , , , , | Comments Off on Sow There!: Choosing the right lawn seed for Chico, 12/08/17

Better late than never for planting daffodils Dec. 4, 2014

By Heather Hacking, Chico Enterprise-Record
My life is so full that sometimes I get behind schedule.

“Busy” sounds so much better than “procrastinator,” or worse yet, “lazy.” Sometimes being late means being wrongly accused of not caring.

I do care. I just sometimes care at the wrong time.AR-141209881

I’m that friend on Facebook who notices it is someone’s birthday when they are posting a thank-you note to all the friends who wished them a happy birthday.

My electronic note says: “When can I take you to a belated birthday lunch?”

I can’t be unique. Otherwise, marketers would have no need for a “belated” section for greeting cards.

My father knows me pretty well by now. If he ever received a Dad’s Day card on time, it was a mistake.

In fact, this week I was rummaging through last year’s left-over Christmas cards and found several Father’s Day cards. I mailed off his card with a Christmas stamp.

He’ll understand.

A perpetual state of belated can also lead to what appears to be sloth.

For example, my Christmas cards are now in the middle of the living room where they will be more difficult to forget.

BULBS ON TIME

All this being said (and a bit that went unsaid), I was pretty darn proud of myself for getting bulbs in to the ground before Christmas.

A good time to plant bulbs is at Thanksgiving. In August, you put new bulbs in the crisper drawer of the fridge to chill.

The bulbs are planted because after the Thanksgiving meal you need every inch of the refrigerator to store leftovers.

Factual note: chilling bulbs in this climate is not necessary.

A fact sheet from the Napa County Master Gardeners states that chilling bulbs only provides a slight difference in bloom height, and bulbs will bloom two weeks earlier.

I’m sticking with the chill. How else would I remember to plant them if they weren’t right there in my refrigerator?

If the bulbs go in late, chilling will bring me blooms right on time.

Read full master gardener tips here:

http://goo.gl/5CA7J7

PLANTING BOLD DRIFTS

A few weeks ago I put dozens of daffodil bulbs in pots.

However, I bought two jumbo bags of daffodils for dirt cheap at Costco.

Seventy-five bulbs remained.

Did I mention that my new yard is fairly small? I don’t know what I was thinking.

As the neighborhood cat circled around my feet, I scoped out the scant terrain.

Directly outside the front door is a five-by-three-foot planting bed recently populated with wild (weed) viola and a few leftover poppies. These are the drought survivors.

Daffodils do extremely well in Chico, returning year-after-year.

Also, squirrels do not technically eat daffodil bulbs. Squirrels will still dig them up, because that’s what squirrels do.

With 75 bulbs, a cat demanding attention, and the sun drifting down below the mulberry tree, I had to hurry.

The daffodils are not spaced evenly, nor 5 inches apart, nor 6 inches deep.

I was on a mission to simply empty the bags.

The good news is by planting the bulbs, I also destroyed the wild viola and spared the poppies.

Bulbs were also planted in the crevice behind the gate, under the loquat tree and near the compost pile.

Comments Off on Better late than never for planting daffodils Dec. 4, 2014

Sow There!: Bag them bulbs at first sight, 12/01/17

Growing hyacinths indoors is a great way to justify buying bulbs and forgetting to plant them in the ground.
Growing hyacinths indoors is a great way to justify buying bulbs and forgetting to plant them in the ground.Photo by Heather Hacking
 If you search under the keywords “garden to-do list,” and add the word “December,” you’ll find a million pictures on Pinterest and several lists of helpful tips for what to do just about now.

These lists are helpful. You’ll find ideas for things you can do to avoid cleaning the interior of your home.

I believe the exact right time to do something is when you’re thinking about it. Better do it quick, before you get sidetracked.

Christina, if you’re reading this now, plant some bulbs today.

When it comes to buying bulbs, the exact right time to buy is when your shopping cart is pointed directly toward the rack of bulbs.

In August I ran into my amazing friend Katie V. at Costco. We each recognized the oversized bags of colorful bulbs long before we noticed we were standing side-by-side.

Katie had her hands on an oversized bag of frou-frou tulips with multi-colored, ballerina skirt petals. To plant all the bulbs in that bag, she would have needed to buy a house with a bigger yard.

I was daydreaming about fragrant freesias in red and yellow. Katie and I soon came up with a plan to each buy one bag, then meet up later for a bulb swap.

More than a month passed before I stopped by her house, while she was gone, snatched half my bag from the front porch and left half of my bag in exchange.

This week I arrived at Katie’s house for a party. Of course, I was a day early, which means I was pleased to see what her house looks like before she cleans for a party. I couldn’t help but notice she had only planted a few of her bulbs.

Bags of unplanted bulbs are also sitting near my own front door.

WHEN IS TOO LATE?

I’ve heard that the best time to plant bulbs is around Thanksgiving. The weather isn’t terrible, and you’re not pressed with the winter holiday hustle to buy, wrap and deliver gifts. However, I’ve planted bulbs as late as December and they have bloomed just fine.

My final projects for my college semester are due the first few weeks of December, so I’ll be lucky to plop my bulbs into soil before the New Year.

SOME TIPS

My cat disappeared in July and the gophers took about 20 minutes before reclaiming the territory that was once my yard. Tulips are among the favorite snacks of gophers. For that reason, the frilly tulips in my possession will need to be planted in pots.

Marin Master Gardeners recommends prechilling bulbs for 4-6 weeks in the refrigerator. Be careful to keep them segregated from fruit, which puts out ethylene gas, which will spoil your bulbs. If you’re buying now, shop for bulbs that have already been prechilled.

As for my stash, I’m hoping it’s been cold enough near my front door for my bulbs to know it’s time to grow. My experience is that tulips do not bloom the second year in this climate. I’ve tried digging them up, storing them for a year, chilling tulip bulbs in the refrigerator, then planting again. Nowadays I buy a new bag of bulbs.

Daffodils, on the other hand, have returned again and again, and even survived neglect during the drought years.

As for the freesias, I’ve planted these in just about every season and had excellent luck. They can also be forced indoors at odd times of the year. The University of California Cooperative Extension recommends planting freesia September through November.

If you haven’t grown freesias, give yourself a little treat. The flowers are long-lasting in pots and make the walk to your doorway an olfactory treat. I have found them blooming in pots when I had long forgotten placing the freesia bulbs.

Hyacinths are also among my favorites for fragrance. I hope some that I planted last year will bloom again this spring.

My fingernails have been dirty for decades and I’ve planted many other bulbs including those giant purple globes, crocus, muscari, anemone, ranunculus … They’re all lovely. I just did not bump into bags of those bulbs this year.

Follow garden enthusiast Heather Hacking on Twitter. For email: sowtheregardencolumn@gmail.com, and snail mail, P.O. Box 5166, Chico CA 95927.

Comments Off on Sow There!: Bag them bulbs at first sight, 12/01/17

Sow There!: Growing grass for the beauty of it, Chico Blend grass seed 11/24/17

There's nothing more beautiful than the color of new grass. The blades are fragile and a reminder that each season has something that is ready to grow.
There’s nothing more beautiful than the color of new grass. The blades are fragile and a reminder that each season has something that is ready to grow. Photo by Heather Hacking

Gardening is a lot like compulsive gambling. We decide to take a risk, calculate the best next move and ultimately hope for the luck of the draw.

When we lose big-time, we gamble again.

Last summer was a big disappointment for growing vegetables. I held the hose for countless hours during freakishly long heat waves, harvesting only enough food to fill my faded woven straw basket. For all that effort, I could have done something useful, including chatting with people at the farmers market and growing zinnias.

If you had asked me in August, I would have vowed to grow only flowers and herbs in pots.

Yet, in early October I found myself in my pajamas and a raincoat, scattering lawn seed.

The grass grew and I was glad I took another chance.

Logically, I upped the ante and more grass seedlings are now on the way.

Why grass?

I don’t need a lawn. In fact, I wrote countless columns during the drought years about how lawns are evil and should be covered in mulch. Someday I’ll move to a new house. Bermuda grass will reach out its ugly tendrils and choke out all of my efforts from last week and last month. Yet, the fact is, I can’t help myself.

There’s nothing more beautiful than the color of new grass. The blades are fragile and remind me that each season has something that is ready to grow.

SEEDS FOR ALL SEASONS

When I sat down with Mark Carlson and his wife, Linda, recently, I decided to gather some lawn-growing tips.

This is the right season, they confirmed, as rains will replace the need to water newly-sown seeds several times a day. However, when it’s not raining, you’ll need to keep the soil moist or prepare to start again.

While we can’t control the weather, Linda advised never to water a lawn at night. Sitting in water encourages lawn disease, she explained.

“Would you put your baby to bed in a wet diaper every night,” Linda said, quoting advice she has learned along the way. Humidity is the same stuff that leads to athletes foot, Mark said, adding even more color to our conversation.

Also, you’re fighting against nature if you try to grow grass under trees, Mark continued. Shade isn’t the place for turf and the trees are bigger and grab the nutrients they need, leaving little for the lawn.

Mark, who has worked in landscaping for most of his adult life, said I can continue scattering lawn seed now through December.

Even as I collected expert advice that day, I knew my yard will never look like the Carlson’s. If they strung up a thousand twinkling lights, you could blink and think you were at Tavern on the Green (In New York City Central Park). I’ll be content if I have fewer bald spots in the yard when the freakishly hot weather returns. That’s just as well because I can plant more seed next year and renew my love affair with new grass.

Garden enthusiast Heather Hacking can be contacted at sowtheregardencolumn@gmail.com. For snail mail, P.O. Box 5166, Chico CA 95927.

Tagged , , | Comments Off on Sow There!: Growing grass for the beauty of it, Chico Blend grass seed 11/24/17

Sow There!: How to choose the right calla lilies 11/9/2017

Sturdy, statuesque calla lilies are easier to buy from a frou-frou flower shop than to grow on your own.
Sturdy, statuesque calla lilies are easier to buy from a frou-frou flower shop than to grow on your own. Photo by Heather Hacking
In early spring I chose the perfect gift for my friend Samantha. She carried gorgeous white calla lilies as her wedding bouquet. I was two months late buying her a wedding gift, so I hoped to think of something that would dazzle her for years to come.

My intention was to plant her a pot of calla bulbs that would bloom year after year. As her marital bliss grew, so would the plants. If all went well, I might even remember to go to her house, under cover of darkness, and divide the bulbs when her first child was age 3.

The flowers bloomed last spring. I felt like a gift-giving goddess.

As it turns out, I had a poor plan. As usual, I gained new knowledge through making a mistake.

First off, callas aren’t bulbs. They’re rhizomes. The distinction is subtle, but technically rhizomes are underground stems.

Now that we have the terminology correct, I’ll go on to describe the other mistakes I made with this well-intentioned gift that won’t keep giving.

The gorgeous, tall, unbelievably hardy flowers in Samantha’s bouquet were white.

I bought callas of many colors.

In early summer I called Jerry Mendon at Mendon’s Nursery in Paradise. My intention was to learn how to care for Samantha’s calla lilies, as well as the bag I bought for myself.

Jerry did not chide me for my poor gift choice, but he did give me the honest truth. Colored callas should be treated as annual bulbs, he said.

This was the last time I had a chance to learn from Jerry, who died Aug. 31 at the age of 87. I miss him.

I had a lot of questions that day, and I wished I had asked him more. Later this year I’ll share what he said about lawns.

“What should I do now that the bulbs have bloomed?” I asked.

“Throw them in the trash,” was his response.

Even though colored calla bulbs are one-shot wonders in the Sacramento Valley climate, they’re still worth planting. They made a gorgeous outdoor bouquet. Now that I know they won’t rebloom, I wish I had cut the flowers from my yard and put them in a vase for Samantha.

Tulips planted in Chico are similar. If tulips do bloom the second year, they look scraggly, like something that survived a hail storm, just barely. Gophers also love tulip bulbs and seem to search them out like pigs hunting for truffles.

Now that I no longer have a cat, and the gophers know the cat is gone, I will only be planting bulbs in pots this year.

BACK ON TRACK

With more flower knowledge, I’m now on the hunt for some tall, white calla lily rhizomes, which should rebloom the second year in our climate zone. My friend is due to have a baby any day now, and statuesque white tulips would be a lovely baby gift. Given that I tend to be late with giving gifts, it’ll be just my style to give her the white (potted) calla rhizomes in early spring.

Calla’s like rich soil, so add compost just about any time you think of it. Push the rhizomes 3-4 inches below the soil. Ideally, you would space them 12-18 inches apart, but who has the patience to allow them to fill the planting area?

This is why we need local nurseries, to supply us with more rhizomes when we refuse to follow plant rules.

Callas also need consistent moisture. In Chico’s heat, your best bet is to add a couple of inches of mulch to the top of the container.

To learn a few more things, check out this article online at http://tinyurl.com/ycch2a5l

Garden enthusiast Heather Hacking can be contacted at sowtheregardencolumn@gmail.com. For snail mail, P.O. Box 5166, Chico CA 95927.

Tagged , | Comments Off on Sow There!: How to choose the right calla lilies 11/9/2017

Sow There!: Take a stroll, feast your eyes on autumn leaves 11/07/2017

Fall leaves are almost as captivating as spring blooms. Catch the dogwood blooms before they fade.
Fall leaves are almost as captivating as spring blooms. Catch the dogwood blooms before they fade.Photo by Heather Hacking

Last weekend I had coffee with a new friend. She arrived at the table with a handful of perfectly smooth, uniformly flat, yellow ginkgo leaves. The miniature fall bouquet was the type of thing I would glue to a strip of paper and cover in Mod Podge, if I was 6 years old. Actually, I made decoupage bookmarks as holiday gifts three years ago, and they looked like they were made by a 6-year-old.

As much as we might try to capture the beauty of fall leaves, they are a lot like dragonflies. Without the help of a gentle wind and the reflection of the light, leaves just aren’t as lovely without animation.

Mark Carlson called a few weeks ago to remind me not to miss his autumn dogwood trees before they fade. I visited his backyard last spring when the backyard was bursting with dogwood blooms of white and pink. Back then he boasted that the colors in fall would be equally vibrant.

Mark’s a bit batty about his dogwoods. Everyone is allowed their passions, and if your passion includes a particular plant, more is apparently better.

His backyard is mostly lined with the deciduous beauties, which do well under a canopy of taller trees. Right now, the tips of his dogwood leaves are a burnt red, with green at the stems and along the stems. Red berries, the color of nandina, hang in clusters.

My guess is that the birds love the berries because dogwood trees are growing up and down Mark’s entire street. It may not have been intentional, but it looks like he shared his dogwood joy.

The urgency of my visit was because Mark and his wife did not want me to miss anything this year. You see, dogwoods create color just a bit sooner than the other trees we love this time of year. When I drove toward his house, I saw Chinese pistache trees, with swirls of muted sherbet colors. Yet, those Chinese pistache will glow even more brightly as time passes.

When I cruise toward my house along The Esplanade, the ginkgo biloba are just nearing their prime, and will soon be so yellow they’ll rival McDonald’s golden arches.

By then, Mark’s dogwoods will be a memory.

Dogwoods are even more astounding if the weather provides a few solid chilly nights, Mark explained, as hummingbirds dive-bombed past his head toward the outdoor bird feeder.

Mark’s wife also pointed out quail that were waddling along the couple’s wooden fence.

WHY LEAVES CHANGE

I’m convinced that trees change color so that each season has something beautiful for humans to appreciate. However, there’s also some science involved. As the nights continue to get longer, the cells near the leaf and the stem begin to divide and cause what is known as an “abscission layer.” This layer blocks the tree from sending carbohydrates to the leaves, the United States National Arboretum reports in a lengthy article about science and trees. As the production of chlorophyll slows, the green pigment fades, and the other colors have their chance to shine, albeit briefly.

Around here, that means our evening walks look like strolling through a watercolor painting. As with every year, we never know how long the show will last. Last time I checked, rain is predicted for today and possibly this weekend. More storms will follow. If you’re planning a Mod Podge project, take a puddle-stomping walk this weekend to gather supplies.

Follow garden enthusiast Heather Hacking on Facebook and Twitter. To send snail mail, P.O. Box 5166, Chico CA 95927.

Comments Off on Sow There!: Take a stroll, feast your eyes on autumn leaves 11/07/2017