Hostas Second Time Around



I tried growing some hostas many years ago and gave up after one season because the slugs nibbled them to shreds.  However, a couple of years ago I had the idea of putting some hostas in pots, in the semi-shaded areas of the garden, although I now understand that they also do well in full sun too.  All I had to do was solve the slug problem and I would have plants which would add attractive, textural interest in different shades of green. 

Doc was sceptical because we have agreed to avoid having lots of pots and hanging baskets.  They are lovely to look at but they have to be watered and in any case, slugs can climb.  However, I thought that if I planted perennials, rather than bedding plants, in water retentive soil-like compost, then the containers would not be too labour intensive.  I had also seen copper tape advertised and there was a pile of rough, small stones behind the shed which would be perfect to make those slimy tummies uncomfortable.  I felt that if I used containers, I had a much better chance of deterring slugs and we would have some interesting groups of pots as focal points around the garden.

I used a variety of pots and placed plastic pots inside them, with about half an inch difference in size.  This does add to the expense but for terracotta pots using an inner pot as a liner reduces water evaporation and it is practical in a large garden because moving a heavy ceramic pot filled with a plant and compost, up or down a hill is a challenge.  If a plant dies, then all I need to do is life the plastic pot out and leave the decorative pot in position.
I put some crocks and stones in the base of each plastic pot, planted a hosta in a peat-free loam-type, water-retentive compost and stuck copper tape around the outside rim of the plastic pot.  Then I covered the surface of each pot with a good layer of small stones.

The results were amazingly successful, so much so I have added to my collection of hostas this year and in a few years time, when the plants are large, I can split the clumps to invigorate them and give some new plants to give away to friends and family.  The flowers are insignificant and are white or mauve, but who cares about them when the leaves are so shapely?

I think hostas are at their most beautiful when the young, new growth emerges in the spring.  Tiny cigar-shaped shoots emerge through the gravel and slowly unfurl into luscious, almost corrugated foliage.  There are over 70 varieties to keep hosta addicts satisfied with every shade of green imaginable, as well as acid-yellow, variegated varieties and my favourite, the ones which have almost blue leaves. They look gorgeous after rain, when dappled sunshine reflects off the water droplets and intensifies the green colour.

As for slugs, so far I have had no problems - touch wood.  I inspected the pots last week and although there was a slug in the base of one of the outer pots, the hosta, tucked up in the plastic pot, was was perfect.  I water them now and again, more often for those pots in sunshine, but this is not an onerous task and this leaves me more time to appreciate these lovely plants.

Sowing Parsnips

This one served 3 people!

I don’t know what we would do with our weekends if it we didn’t have a garden.  Doc thinks that scraping the dirt from under our fingernails keeps us out of mischief and he is probably right.  So, we were on the plot by 9.30 am, Saturday AND Sunday.

Doc spent Saturday demolishing the old summer house.  Much of it was rotten and it only needed a gentle push to bring it down.  The rest of his weekend was then taken up with sorting the pile of wood, roofing felt and glass.  He chopped some of the timber up for kindling and created a spectacular bonfire with the rest.   We now have large gap in the rhododendrons and potential for spending serious money on a replacement.   Oh heck.

On Saturday, top of the list I shoved into my jeans pocket, was ‘sowing the parsnips’.  The traditional time to start sowing root vegetables is in late winter but since we have cold winters here, I wait until spring.  However, if it is particularly cold I sometimes have to re-sow in late April or even early May.  Anyway, despite the current cold snap, I decided to get the job done because I will be busy with other things next weekend and I figured that if I cover the bed with a sheet of fleece, this would help keep the beds a little warmer.  It worked last year, anyway.

The best advice for sowing parsnips (and carrots) is to resist the temptation to use up left over seed from the previous year.  Seed does not keep well and when I buy mine, I always store it in the fridge.   There are several good varieties but I always grow Gladiator which delivers on taste and size.  It is also resistant to parsnip canker which is good if you are leaving parsnips standing over the winter.  Doc is convinced that parsnips taste better if the parsnips have been well frosted, though he has great difficulty lifting them out of hard, cold soil in January!

We work to a raised bed system for vegetables so we never have to dig.  Doc spreads on lots of our homemade, sieved compost in the winter and the worms then have plenty of time to pull it down and digest it.  Parsnips like light soil, rather than heavy clay so it can take years of composting to develop the optimum quality of soil – but it is worth the effort.  Crop rotation is also important.  There is no need for complicated regimes.  If you have plenty of space just try not to grow the same crop in the same place every year.

In the spring I lightly fork through a spade’s depth or so of soil and remove any stones.   When a parsnip seed germinates, it sends down a long tap root and if it meets a stone, it will fork and the result is an entertaining but difficult to prepare vegetable.    I make shallow drills of 2cm (¾in) deep, water them lightly and then station sow 3 seeds every 20 cm (8 inches).  When there are little seedlings, with a pair of true leaves I thin the row down to one per station.  Oh how I dislike throwing perfectly good plants on the compost heap.
 
Technically, the rows should be quite far apart, up to 30-45 cm (12-18 in) but since we have good quality soil in our raised beds, we have good crops with 23 cm ( 9) inch spacing.   I always mark the rows with plant labels to make spotting any weeds easier.  Usually, the labels are old and pre-used, much to the amusement of any visitors who comment that I have funny looking courgettes......

I don’t succession sow parsnips because they stand well in winter and we can lift them when we need them.  However, I tend to sow carrots every few weeks because they don’t stand in the ground for very long.   
After sowing, I cover the bed with fleece to keep the seeds warm and every couple of days I peek under the fleece to see if the bed is dry.  I find germination is more successful if the bed is kept on the damp side. 

Germination takes up to 21 days and once it this is achieved, parsnips are very easy to look after.  We water them once a week and remove any weeds which will compete for moisture and nourishment.  Sometimes I fertilise the soil, sometimes I don’t.   I try not to over-fertilise the soil as it can increase the acidity over time.  In fact, since most vegetables need neutral to alkaline soil, it is a good idea to lime the soil every 4 years.

Slugs can be a pest to any vegetable and we use biological control (nematodes) to help keep the numbers down.  Carrot fly can affect parsnips as well as carrots but thankfully, that is not a problem for us.  However, you can erect a barrier around the bed to shield the crop from this annoying low-flying insect.

Some gardeners do not grow parsnips because they are in the ground for 6-10 months and if space is limited then this is understandable.  However, if you do have space, they are well worth the developing the patience for.  By midsummer the bed is covered with thick unruly foliage but it is underneath the soil where the real action takes place.  Lifting the first parsnip is one of our most pleasant garden rituals.  If we are lucky, by the end of the autumn we are presented with long, knobbly, earthy-smelling roots and within the space of an hour we can enjoy a caramelised, almost fragrantly sweet, roasted parsnip on our plate.   They are delicious and I can't wait! 

Pushing my Persicaria

When we moved to Springfield there was an old, overgrown mixed border exactly where our new greenhouse was going to be built.  So, I rescued what I could and we finished up with pots full of plants, most of which I did not know the name of.  Later, a friend told me that one of the pots was a plant called Persicaria (Polygonum) and I have kept the clump going for years, from pot to ‘nursery bed’, then I split it and put back into pots, whilst I waited for a suitable final planting position.

Persicaria has a long flowering period from spring to midsummer and I have discovered that this plant is called a Knotweed for a good reason.  It has a vigorous habit and many people consider it to be a weed.  It is pretty though and has bottlebrush-like, tiny mauve-pink flowers packed tightly together on thin stems, above the semi-evergreen dock-like foliage.
 
Apparently this plant is an excellent choice for an acid, damp garden and the best planting position is at the edge of a pond or in a bog garden, where it quickly spreads, forming impressive colonies up to 1m wide.  However, in our garden it has always been planted in dry positions as well as pots which have received nothing more than a splash of water when remember.  It has survived and flowered, but has not taken off hugely.  I have been left wondering if planting it somewhere less hospitable slows it down so it cannot take over a border.

We have semi-shady gaps between the raised beds and trellis panels that screen the composting area.  I have planted ivy, ferns and a lovely evergreen honeysuckle which was recommended by a gardener at a plant fair.  We have great hopes for Lonicera japonica ‘Acumen’ because he said it is tough, really tough and offers more interest than more ivy.

Last year I also planted out a pot of Persicaria in the gap.  I admit that this was brave because it likes sun and damp and this area is shady a lot of the time and dry!  Doc raised his eyebrows and thought it would die.  He said I would be re-planting the area with something else.  However, this spring I am feeling smug because my Persicaria is a very happy plant and growing nicely and more importantly, is very well behaved.  Every time I go to the compost heap I give it a nod of approval.  I gave it a chance and it is doing well.

So my next experiment is planting a patch of the Persicaria in the very sunny, dry corner of the bed at the end of the lawn.  It is an area plagued with weeds and there are boring overgrown shrubs which belong on a roundabout, as well as ivy.  I am hoping the Persicaria will slow down the weed growth and at least bring some colour and compete with the ‘motorway service’ planting scheme. Anyway, it is worth a try.

Experimenting and trying things out is one of the great joys of gardening.  Most of us take the trouble reading the instructions on plant labels.  Whilst this advice is generally the best, sometimes I like to test the plant and push the boundaries.  After all, my Persicaria was free, I won’t lose money by trying clumps here and there and I might discover that far from being picky, this plant is much more versatile.

I will be keeping an eye on my Persicaria though.  Any sign that it is threatening other plants and it will be banished forever, but at least I am open minded.

Problem Solved

Working with what you have is the one of the first things you learn as a gardener and to succeed you have to be creative and be prepared to compromise.

We have a raised bed at the front of our property.  It has a privet hedge at the back of it to give us privacy from the road and a dry stone wall at the front.  It is well drained and gets a moderate amount of sunlight.

But it is not all good news.  The hedge bottom is a Mecca for weeds and other unwanted plants and there is a (supposedly attractive) perennial which is invasive to say the least.  We have been trying to kill this plant for years to no avail but we are very good at spotting it and digging bits out. There is a weak and sickly looking laburnum but we cannot bear to part with it until it decides it has had enough and there is also a small Christmas tree that may or may not come in useful if we ever get round to outdoor lighting at Christmas.

We have overhauled the bed, planted an ornamental Sorbus Sargentiana at the opposite end to the Laburnum and planted small shrubs, bulbs and perennials which should fill he bed with colour in a couple of years.  I am also adding some alpines to hopefully colonise the dry stone wall.  It’s not perfect but it has more potential than it ever has before and since it is our primary view from the kitchen window, we increasingly like it.  The only thing we don't like is the large manhole cover in the centre of the bed.

Doc says that the manhole cover must remain accessible because, apparently, it is one of the laws of drainage.  (Grrr.)   I considered positioning a large ceramic pot on the metal cover, perhaps containing a specimen shrub.  Doc said that once the pot was filled with soil and a shrub it would be difficult to move it.  He also asked me how we would climb on to the bed with the watering can and in any case, why would we want to climb up a wall with a watering can?  He had a point.  So, I looked for an attractive, plastic stone-look-alike large pot and a watering system.  The pots looked like plastic pretending to be stone and the watering solutions were too much hassle.  We must conserve water not use more of it.

Then, one morning when Doc was filling up the bird feeders, he had a Eureka moment.  A bird bath!  And so the deed is done. This morning I took delivery of a lovely grey stone bird bath for the birds to dip into when they have finished eating the nuts and pooping on our cars.  It took me a while to install the bath and not just because there was a hail storm.   There was an Alfred Hitchcock-sized flock of birds sitting in the hedge, already in their swimming costumes, hurrying me up every five minutes and there was enough packaging to start a packaging company.  However, we now have lots of useful polystyrene and bubble wrap to go with all the other useful polystyrene and bubble wrap in the garage.
 
Now all I need are some bark chippings to complete the disguise at the base - and some natural yogurt.  I am told that if I spread this on the stone it will help it age more quickly.  There was a time when yoghurt went with muesli.  At least I know not to spread yoghurt on my face.  I have enough wrinkles as it is.

Crazy perspective - the daffs look as big as the bird bath!

The transformation is not quite complete but it soon will be

 

‘April is the cruellest month...’

This is the poignant first line of The Waste Land, a poem written by T S Eliott in 1922.  The last line isn’t so cheerful either:  ‘.....I will show you fear in a handful of dust.’ 

Still, I must try to be positive amidst the apparent devastation in the garden.  It might not be as bad as it looks.  Doc’s mum says she can remember when, many moons ago, it snowed on May 1st.

I have to say though that I am stunned by the meteoric change in the weather.  Despite being British and supposedly used to changeable weather, my brain is experiencing great difficulty in registering that a week ago we were testing out our new parasol on the terrace in warm sunshine and today, there is a blizzard which is causing havoc.  It clearly is the reason why we never stop talking about the weather; we will be dining out on this for months.

A tree has blown over further up the street which has made the road very quiet, almost eerily quiet.  I expect it won’t be long though before it is chopped up and taken away.  With some patient seasoning, there is enough fuel to keep a log burner going for months - maybe it will be useful during next summer’s arctic conditions.  Well, you never know, do you?

The daffs have all been knocked over by the wind and the blooms have been crushed by the weight of the snow.  The damson blossom is no more.  Yesterday, I popped to a nursery to buy a tray of alpines and forgot to take them to the cold frame last night.  There was a couple of inches of snow on them this morning but being tough little plants, I think they will survive, though I have taken them to the greenhouse for a while.

The tomatoes and cucumber plantlets in the greenhouse are cosy in their propagators – not heated ones - but nestled together  these little pots of potential are fine.  On one of the raised beds, the sides of a cloche collapsed under the snow which has given the endive underneath a jolt but since these plants were overwintered, they should recover.

It’s a good job that I did not sow any early carrots, they will have to wait and be late carrots.  Actually, quite a lot will now be on hold but that is the weather for you.  Gardeners live by the weather and must be flexible.  The diary had been cleared to allow for a packed gardening Easter Weekend - hence the visit to the nursery to beat the rush - but I guess we will have to do other things and catch up later.  I am disappointed though because Easter is one of my favourite times for gardening. 

The chickens are not too happy and have stayed in the coop, all huddled together in one corner.  I don’t think it’s worth opening the run to let them out into the corral.  But you never know, the sun might come out this afternoon, melt the snow and then they can get some fresh air.  And maybe I could enjoy a cup of tea on the terrace, under the new parasol.

A Touch of Glamour

All peonies have a blousy opulence about them.  There are two types:  herbaceous peonies and tree peonies and the difference between them are the stems. Herbaceous peonies have stems that die right back in autumn and leave no trace until they re-emerge in the spring.  We have several un-named varieties at Springfield and my favourites are the over-the-top round, magenta and red blooms – some of which are bigger than my clenched fist.  However, much as I love them I have never managed to photograph a peony in flower.  Usually I forget to erect the plant supports and by the time I notice the flower buds it is too late.  They soon become so top-heavy that they collapse to the ground.  If it is rainy and windy, then you lose the flowers anyway, rather like roses lose their petals.  Still, I would not be without peonies and last autumn I put sticks in the ground so I know for definite exactly where they will emerge, so I can stake them appropriately.  Well that is the plan anyway. 

The stems of the tree peony are woody and stay above the ground all year.
 They grow into medium sized shrubs, to a maximum of 6 feet (2 metres) and are covered with lots of lush, beautifully divided foliage.  Each stem produces one large, exotic flower usually with a dramatic and very beautiful centre. Some varieties are scented and I have been told that they are very good as cut flowers. The colours are similar to those of the herbaceous peony; white, pink and red, but many varieties produce true yellow flowers.  I have a friend who, last year, tried to count the flowers on her tree peony.  She lost count at a hundred.

Peonies are supposed to only like chalky soil but ours have not read any text books.  We have mostly acid soil and they thrive.  I have also managed to successfully lift and divide them and this year we have a clump in a pot for a change, potted with a loam based compost.  It is a myth that herbaceous peonies don’t like to be moved; in fact it does them good after a few years.  If you make sure you keep the crown level with the surface of the soil, they are fine.  They are tough plants; they are fully hardy, like full sun and ours have rarely suffered from pests or disease.   Although people associate them with the hot, Mediterranean countries, they originate from Japan.

I was told that tree peonies really don’t like to be moved.  We inherited a straggly pale yellow specimen which was situated in the large raised bed at the front of the house.  The whole bed was overgrown and the peony had struggled for its own space and light for many years.  When we finally cleared the bed in the autumn of 2010, we took the decision to ‘have a go at moving it’.  The removal went well and we cut it back to encourage some new vigour.  Unfortunately, a few weeks later, the hard winter of 2010/2011 began and minus 15 C was a threat to everything and we feared the tree peony would die.  There was no re-growth throughout the entire growing season last year and being so busy, we  somehow we did not get around to digging up the remains of our tree peony. 

However, patience (okay, neglect) has paid off.  Another winter has passed and amazingly there is a 1 cm new tree peony shoot growing in the centre of the dead sticks!  Our tree peony may have life left in it yet.  We shall have to see.  I hope it is not a weed!  I will keep you posted and who knows, I may have photographs of all our peonies soon.