Friday, October 20, 2006
Tips for the quick-and-dirty gardener
Libba Wolfe
Libba Wolfe's column appears twice monthly in Extra.
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A few Sundays ago I cut out Beth Macy's gardening article. She featured advice from some of Roanoke's best gardeners. I read it and added some chores to my lengthy fall gardening to-do list.
I'd like to offer some ideas from a more "fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants" gardener. My take-away from the 2006 growing season is the value of good soil. Well, duh. I have shelves full of soil improvement instruction, but it's experience that makes the light bulb in my head go off.
With sporadic fertilizing, I got decent results in my old yard full of clay and rocks. Last year I made new beds with rich, black composted topsoil from Boxley Quarries.
The results have been amazing. The nasturtium seeds I poked into the soil in May have produced a jungle of huge leaves and nonstop flowers that spill over the stone wall.
I spaced shrubs and perennials based on my past experience with the same plants. With nutritious soil and good drainage, many have tripled in size in just a few months. I'm already having to move and thin and divide. But I'm not complaining about the extra work. It's a yard dream come true.
My lazy-girl's compost heap is paying off. Last fall I piled dead leaves onto a tarp in a corner of the back yard. All year I've been tucking in coffee grounds and fruit and vegetable peelings. I never got around to fencing it in or turning it or watering it.
Even with my neglect, I've got wheelbarrow-loads of crumbly organic gold. I put a shovelful in the holes I'm planting. I'll spread the rest on the beds and let time and the worms take it from there.
Now that I've seen the difference good soil makes, I'll pay closer attention to my leaf raking. I have plenty of oak and maple leaves to add to the compost pile. Some I'll mow over and rake on the beds as mulch. Last month I questioned an expert gardener about the necessity of chopping the leaves. She gave me one of those "just between you and me" looks and admitted that after a few weeks of doing what the books say, she just rakes them as-is into the beds. She reminded me that the forests are full of unchopped leaves; rich soil and plants come up every spring. Great attitude.
A clematis armandii taught me another valuable lesson this summer. I planted it in May and the bottom leaves and the growing tip were brown and brittle within a week. I continued to check it and it continued to sit there with absolutely no change. I was sure it was destined for the compost pile. I was away for a week in September and came home to find it had grown almost a foot and put out new leaves. It may be the horticultural version of "a watched pot never boils" but it's taught me a lesson in patience. I won't be so quick in the future to rip out the nonperformers. Some just take a little longer to settle in.
Every year I learn the great weed lesson -- if you don't stay ahead of them, you're defeated. This summer I've identified a major weed source in my back yard and I'm going to attack it in January.
I have a huge hemlock hedge. I don't like to mess with it during the summer. It's too hot and scratchy and, frankly, if I were a snake that's where I would hang out. Last winter I crawled in and ripped out the tangles of ivy, honeysuckle and alien saplings.
This summer I've watched weeds, violets in particular, spreading from under the hedge. As soon as it's cold, I'm planning to layer sheets of newspaper -- at least 17 to 20 deep -- under the hedge. I'll cover them with mulch.
The same expert who advised me on leaf chopping said this should do the trick. The violets can't come up. Water can still reach the hemlock roots and the paper will eventually rot and feed the soil. I'll let you know how it works.
The growing season may be winding down but reading the expert advice in Macy's article reminded me of the most important lesson every gardener, expert or not, knows. This year whets your appetite for next year.
