Greengirls Helen Yarmoska, Nicole Hvidsten, Martha Buns, Connie Nelson, Kim Palmer and Mary Jane Smetanka are dishin' the dirt from the back-yard garden and beyond. Whether you're a greenthumb or greenhorn, they're eager to learn from your mishaps, mistakes - and most importantly, your sweet successes - all growing season long.
Remember last year's Edible Estate? That was the front yard in Woodbury where an artist/horticulturist tore up the traditional lawn and replaced it with a dense forest of food crops.
So what's going on this growing season, now that the Schoenherr family is on their own, with no donated plants or free expert help?
Pretty much the same as last year -- that was the surprising news when I visited the family last week. They're still growing more than 100 edible crops, covering almost all their large suburban front yard. About half of last year's crops returned or self-seeded. The rest -- about 1,000 plants -- they started from seed in their basement, under grow lights.
Now that they can choose their own crop mix, they're growing fewer eggplants, but they've added some new edibles, including tomatillos and borage.
And their gung-ho neighbors, who dug in last year to help tend the mini-farm in their midst, are still at it, showing up for weekly "garden nights" to help pull weeds and help themselves to some produce.
"We really do have a lot of help," said Catherine Shoenherr. "It wouldn't be very fun to do this by yourself."
How has the family managed to turn their private front yard into a community garden? Find out in next week's Variety Home + Garden.
"Fairy gardens are over."
That's what they told us almost a year ago, at the Garden Writers Assocation convention in Quebec City, where the Garden Media Group was presenting its top trends for 2104. Those trends included bee-friendly gardening, and young guys growing hops, and geometric shapes.
No fairies. They're so 2012.
But Minnesota gardeners didn't get the memo, apparently. Just this morning, my inbox included a press release for yet another fairy garden workshop. This summer's crop of Beautiful Gardens submissions included fairy gardens of all size and description.
I'll admit fairy gardens aren't my personal cup of nectar. They're tiny and detailed, while my aesthetic leans toward big, bold foliage plants.
But maybe I'm just the wrong demographic to appreciate fairy gardening and its charms. Most of the fairy gardeners I've met are doing it for their kids and grandkids as much as for themselves. They love having a garden that delights young children and attracts them to the landscape. (My kids are 21 and 24 -- they haven't procreated yet, and are too old to be enchanted by wee winged creatures.)
So maybe fairy gardens defy trendiness, and instead have become a beloved garden niche.
What do you think, fellow gardeners? Are you feeling the magic of fairies in the garden? Been there, done that? Or never would?
For me, the rock star of deck and patio plants is the tropical hibiscus.
The mini-shrub’s huge trumpet-shaped flowers explode in colors like blood red, fiery orange and delicious peach. Sometimes I see tiny hummingbirds flitting around the blooms. It’s no surprise that the hibiscus is the national flower of Hawaii and Jamaica.
But since we live in Minnesota, these beauties have to be brought inside for the winter if you want them to survive until spring. And I found out that you have to be patient to make it worth the trouble.
In October, when it’s time to empty the outdoor planters, the tropical hibiscus is too lovely to send to the city disposal site with other garden debris. So I lug the super heavy pot to the basement to chill out for the winter in a special spot by a window. The cold and darkness hinders bud growth, but I water it every week, dreaming about all the bodacious blooms it will produce come summer.
In May, I keep track of the night time temperatures. It’s only safe to place tender plants outdoors when temperatures stay above 50 degrees. So usually by Memorial Day, I lug the hibiscus pot up from the basement to a special spot in the sun on the deck.
It looks pretty pathetic - the foliage is sparse and scraggly - but there’s promising new growth.
I give the plant a little TLC and fertilizer. Then I wait, every day inspecting for buds.
The last two summers, the slow-as-a snail hibiscus didn’t produce buds until almost August. It really takes a tropical plant, which likely would choose to live in Hawaii over Minnesota, a long time to get in the groove.
This summer, I've seen lush hibiscus bursting with flowers at the garden centers. Ther're very tempting - and I bet they’re on sale.
Do you have good luck overwintering tropical plants? What are your favorites?
When I was a younger, inexperienced gardener, I did some things I regret.
I brought home some plants I shouldn't have -- good-looking specimens that I didn't know much about. They're still haunting my landscape.
There's the contorted filbert I picked up at Home Depot about 10 years ago. It was small and quirky, with curly, twisty little branches. I put it in one of my garden beds next to a big boulder, thinking it would stay small and twisty and cute.
Instead it grew like a giant weed, shooting out long straight branches with none of the curlicued charm that first caught my eye.
It also brought a most unwelcome invader: Japanese beetles. If I had any before the filbert, I never noticed them. But once the filbert took up residence, they arrived in droves. By mid-summer, the filbert's foliage is thick with beetles. If they just stayed there and munched on the filbert it wouldn't be so bad, but they also move on to feast on my nearby roses and other plants.
Then there's the climbing rose I picked up the summer I moved into my house. The rose attracted me with its bright brilliant pink blooms, so I impulsively bought it and a big arbor to support it. The rose is still pretty -- for about two weeks in early summer when it's covered with vibrant flowers.
The rest of the time, it's just bare straggly canes that burst beyond the confines of the arbor and stab me with their thorns when I try to tame them.
Now that I know better -- that there are beautiful rose options that bloom all season long -- I could kick myself for not doing a little research first.
The biggest mistake in my landscape is a maple, also planted the first year summer we moved into the house. We were new to suburbia, after years of living in the leafy urban core, and we missed the trees. So we planted one.
Instead of carefully choosing the best location for a tree, we lazily picked the spot where the kids' wading pool had already killed the grass. And instead of carefully researching and choosing the best type of tree, we grabbed a maple at the garden center -- without reading the tag. We figured it would give us beautiful fall color. It does. But it also turned out to be some weird dwarf species that is more bush-shaped than tree-shaped. Instead of a traditional trunk crowned with branches, it produced multiple trunks low to the ground. It's too low and squatty to provide shade you can actually sit under. But, of course, it completely shades my garden, making it impossible to grow the sun-loving plants that thrived there when the tree was young.
One of these years, I'll probably get rid of these unsightly reminders of my impetuous youth. But it sure would have been easier if I'd just done my homework -- at least read the tags -- before I bought them.
Impulse garden purchases can be fun -- but save them for annuals and small plants; that's the lesson I learned the hard way.
Anyone else out there have things in their landscape that they planted in ignorance and now regret?
The woman on the hunt for hosta looked familiar. It was Betsy, my former neighbor. I hadn't seen her since the Greengirls plant swap two years ago, and before that for at least a decade.
It was great to catch up with her, trade notes -- and point out people who had hosta to swap.
That's what's fun about a plant swap, as opposed to browsing for plants at a garden center or even the farmer's market. There's more personal interaction as swappers make the rounds, check out what's available, then circle back to make a trade.
"Where's Helen?" asked a gardener tempted by the seedling tomatoes she spotted in a swapper's labeled stash.
"Who has horseradish?" another swapper asked. "Anyone seen any?"
Swaps bring out interesting people. I met seasoned green thumbs, like the woman who was turning her urban corner lot into a pollinator garden. I met enthusuastic rookies, like the guy who didn't know what plants he was bringing home and didn't care -- he just wanted to start his first garden.
One woman arrived very late, as the swap was winding down and the Greengirls (the Star Tribune's garden bloggers) were gathering up the leftover plants that hadn't found a home. Many of the orphan plants were a bit bedraggled, but the woman was happy to have them -- she tends a garden at a school with disabled children and needs all the plants she can get, she said.
If you didn't make it down to this year's swap, come join us next year. You'll find great plants and great people -- maybe even a familiar face, like a long-lost neighbor.
|Annuals (65)||Books and resources (9)|
|Chickens (4)||Compost (8)|
|Critters and pests (46)||Farmers markets (14)|
|Flowers (110)||Fruit and berries (40)|
|Grasses (24)||Green gardening (28)|
|Lawn care (23)||Perennials (124)|
|Preserving (9)||Rain gardens (4)|
|Seed starting (14)||Soil prep (13)|
|Tools (8)||Transplanting + dividing (13)|
|Trees (40)||Vegetables (135)|
|Weather (76)||Weeds (26)|
|Weekend chores (60)|