Pots Upon Pots - I Can Hardly Contain Myself!

Pots, also known as containers, are essential when you have limited planting space. But a visit to your local nursery or gardening center can leave you overwhelmed with choices, such as which size do I pick, what color do I select, and does it really matter what the pot is made of?  And while containers of different sizes, shapes, and colors will provide you with an attractive aesthetic for your garden, you must also pick pots that are optimal for healthy plant growth.

PICKING THE RIGHT SIZE

A small plant will not grow as well in a huge container. Likewise, a bigger plant will not be able to spread its roots in a tiny pot. And don't forget the drainage holes! Proper drainage allows air pockets to form in the soil, which in turn keeps water from pooling and suffocating the roots of the plant. If you do buy a pot without drainage holes, poke them yourself with a drill or a screwdriver. 

WHAT'S IT MADE OF?

Do you have plants that require consistent moisture? Pots made from plastic, glazed terra-cotta, or metal are your best choice. Although clay pots and coir hanging baskets are beautiful to look out and allow plants to breath, they can also dry out sooner than later. Want something a little different? Try using containers with an interesting look, such as wall pots, wooden dresser drawers, and even old shoes. 

KEEP THEM CLEAN & KEEP THEM SAFE

Clean pots equal healthy plants, so make sure to wash your containers before you reuse them. And keep an eye on the weather. Terra-cotta pots can break when the temperature gets cold or fluctuates, so store them in a place with even temps. 

And finally, always make sure the pot is empty before filling with dirt! 

Source: Container Gardening. Athlon Sports Inc., publisher. 2023. Print. 

8 Plants You Can't Kill

Love the idea of container gardening, but afraid to invest a lot of money in live plants that may turn into dead plants within a week or so of potting them?  

If so, here are eight plants that are almost impossible to kill. In fact, they will thrive without a bunch of fussing and puffing, so make sure you take this list with you when shopping at your local garden center or nursery. 

Let's get started!

1.) Wave Petunia - a trailing plant that comes in pink, purple, yellow, red, white, and apricot. 

2.) Scaveola - this plant has blue-purple fan-shaped blossoms and looks great in a container. A favorite of gardeners and butterflies.

3.) Coleus - this plant grows in shade or sun, depending on the variety and comes in color variations of lime green to blood red.

4.) Verbena - this plant loves to cascade over pots and blooms with tiny, wonderfully fragrant white, pink, and purple flowers.

5.) Sweet Potato Vine - this plant is known as an ornamental vine and grows well in shade or sun.

6.) Agave - this plant loves the sun and can exist for long periods of time without water.

7.) Mandevilla - this plant grows high, so make sure you include a trellis or a climbing wall in the pot when you plant it. 

8.) Bacopa - this plant is a vine that blooms all summer and requires plenty of water to support its growth. 

Source: Container Gardening Magazine, 2023. 

 

The Logical Order of Gardening

Ever do something before you were actually supposed to, just because you couldn't wait until the appointed date and time to do said thing? For example, perhaps you opened a Christmas present early, bought those new shoes before the sale started, or snuck in a bite or two of dessert before dinner. 

If we're honest, most of us have put the cart before the horse, counted our chickens before they hatched, or been faster than our shadow on more than one occasion. This past Monday was such a moment for me. 

My morning started out as most of my mornings do. I got up, went running, took my shower, and started working on my short list of chores. The air was chilly when I stepped out on the back porch, but the sun was already shining brightly with a promise of warmer temperatures as the day progressed. 

As I walked over to water the dogs, I noticed a patch of high grass nestled up against the house. While waiting for the bowl to fill I scanned the backyard for overgrown grass clumps and within thirty seconds, I identified at least ten thriving patches of field grass and clover. Suddenly, my palms became sweaty, and my face wrinkled up like a raisin. 

Then the self-talk started - "the first day of Spring is March 19th" along with "gardeners in your growing zone will not start working on their lawns until temperatures are a little more consistent, so chill out." And last but certainly not least - "what will the neighbors think?" 

Well, try as I might, I could not fight the urge to fix what I felt was an early injustice in the growing season. Neighbors and zones be darned! I quickly stepped back inside, pulled on my rubber gardening boots, walked to the garage, grabbed my equipment and started cutting down the wads of weeds. Once finished, I used the leaf blower to clear the sidewalk of any incriminating evidence. Then, I happily put my gardening tools away and went inside. 

And the best part? I had not cheated myself out of additional workdays in the spring. Weeds, after all, are a gift that keeps on giving. 

Grace Revealed

Recently, a search for family history led me to my grandmother Grace's wedding announcement from 1942. As I read the clipping, I was surprised to learn that prior to marrying my grandfather, she attended business school in Columbia, South Carolina. 

Although I am a historian (yes, my degree says so), I never gave much thought to what my grandmother did prior to knowing me. Indeed, all of my experiences with her and my memories of her are based on our kinship timeline. 

I mean I loved her, learned from her, respected her, spent time with her, and enjoyed watching her in the garden. In fact, this blogsite is named after her and the majority of the posts are about her. And although I feel I have done my best to honor her memory, I have also limited it because I never pictured her in any other era except my own. Why is that? 

The simple answer, I think, is me. I am the primary source, the common denominator if you will in the equation. Ask me a question about my grandmother and I will tell you what I experienced as her grandchild; I have no other historical point of reference for who she was - until now. So, here we go.

After graduating high school, my grandmother attended Draughan's Business College in Columbia, South Carolina. 

Memories to be continued in future posts. 

Backroads

Backroads are awesome, and I should know. I'm from a state - West Virginia - that probably boasts more backroads than most. In fact, despite the interstates, folks could not navigate through the mountains and trees in this wild and wonderful place if not for backroads.

In any state, narrow and oftentimes dirt roads provide a way to get from point A to point B, but they are also gold mines for things you may not see while zooming down the interstate or the freeway.

Just last week alone, while traveling one of my favorite Tennessee backroads, I saw a group of baby goats sitting on a collective of tree stumps, a man who makes and sells birdhouses hard at work behind his house (well, I assume it was his house - otherwise, I saw a man stealing wood planks from behind his neighbor's house), and signs for an upcoming church camp meeting.

Last Saturday, however, my travels on my beloved backroad led me to what every historian yearns to see - an estate sale! Yes - a pink piece of posterboard in the front yard of a 1950's-ish house bid me stop - and I did!

After exploring the house, the barn and a small run-down log cabin, I came away with some pretty cool stuff - pottery, an antique rooster salt and pepper shaker set, a walking stick, and a glass Fire King measuring cup. My favorite item, however, is this vintage cast iron wood splitter, picked up for $1.25.

If you're scratching your head right about now, let me explain. I collect old tools and things made out of metal, iron, etc. I can't tell you why, but I am drawn to these things, and I like to think about the hands that held and used them before mine. My collection includes old chains, railroad spikes, hinges, shovels, chisels, bed springs, and white porcelain insulators.

The bottom of this wood splitter is full of dings and marks made by someone, I like to think, that chopped firewood and built things, magnificent things. Not just because they had to, but because they wanted to. Things they could sell in their front yard to people like me who prefer the backroads and care about the history created there.

Succumb to the Thumb

My green thumb has been itching of late. At first, I thought it was just a case of chapped skin brought on by too many hand washings, too little lotion and frigid February temperatures. 

However, while picking up a few things at my local hardware store the other day, I happened upon a huge seed display rack. Taller than me and more colorful to boot, there it stood, surrounded by a plethora of gardening tools - unassuming yet conspicuous, decorous but at the same time obvious. 

My first attempt to just walk on by the fantabulous structure was immediately met with a slight tingle in my left forearm, followed by a small flutter in my stomach. Silently, I regretted my early morning decision to skip breakfast and once again tried to bypass what had now become my nemesis. 

But the tingle would not subside! Instead, it progressed to my left thumb and settled there, daring me to take another step without looking through the packets, each adorned with a colorful picture of promise on the front and planting instructions on the back. 

Well, what could I do readers but succumb to the thumb? Indeed, like a cat in a tuna factory, I pawed and sniffed at those tiny envelopes until I found the ones I wanted, arched my back ever so slightly, leisurely made my way to the checkout and paid for my purchases. Then, I proceeded to walk out to the parking lot and climb into the passenger seat of my husband's truck. 

As I settled in and clicked my seatbelt in place, I turned to look at my husband, only to see a quizzical expression on his face. I blinked several times, tilted my head to the right and gave him the "is there something wrong look" he has come to know over the years. 

He smiled, reached over and picked a small seed from my hair and started the truck. 

End-of-Season Woes

Now that Fall is here and Winter is sure to follow, I can't help but remember what a dismal gardening season this has been for me. Failed cucumbers, late blooming tomatoes, pumpkin seeds that did not sprout, and green bean vines that curled and swirled endlessly but still refused to yield even one bean. 

I have, however, pondered, lamented and murmured long enough. To make myself feel better and to see if there is something I can do better next year, I've bought a couple of gardening books to read before Spring comes round again. 

Fingers crossed.