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. 

Historic Gardening Series Segment #1 / Wide-Row Planting

 According to the garden bulletin "Wide-Row Planting: The Productive Miracle" by Dick Raymond: "wide-row planting is simply a matter of broadcasting seeds in bands anywhere from ten inches to three or more feet wide" (1). The benefits of wide-row planting are many. Here are just a few to mull over.

 

First, wide rows contain more plants than regular rows, so production per square foot is increased.

 

Second, wide-row planting saves the gardener time when weeding and harvesting because you have so much growth directly in front of you and out to each side. This means you will spend more time actually weeding and harvesting and less time moving up and down rows.

 

Third, you save space when you plant in shorter rows as opposed to longer rows, which is helpful if you are trying to grow as much as possible in a small space. 

 

And finally, planting in wide rows produces shade, which in turn retains moisture in the soil so plants and the soil they are planted in do not dry out as quickly.

 

Although wide-row gardening is rewarding and convenient, not all plants should be planted in wide rows. Raymond states plants such as beans, beets, cabbage, and carrots will do well in wide rows, while plants that love large amounts of sun and heat, such as corn, tomatoes, and peppers do better when they have plenty of room to grow.

 

Works Cited

Raymond, Dick. "Wide-Row Planting: The Productive Miracle." Garden Way Publishing Bulletin A - 2. Garden Way Publishing, Pownal, VT. Copyright 1977 by Storey Communications, Inc. 

In Favor of Southern Literature

 

My mom and I had been at it for the better part of the afternoon. By it, I mean going through several trunks she had inherited when my grandmother passed away years ago.  The purpose of our search was to find my grandmother’s copy of Louisa May Alcott’s classic novel Little Women. As a kid, I used to spend summers with my grandparents and I always read this book before returning home. As we continued our hunt, we found many treasures - samplers, trinkets, pictures, old newspaper clippings and the like, but no book.  

As our search began to wind down, one old trunk in particular caught my attention. It was wooden and white paint was flaking off the sides like snowflakes being brushed from the shoulders of a winter coat.  As I sat cross-legged in the middle of my mom’s living room floor, I reached inside the trunk and carefully lifted out a large, crinkled brown paper bag, expecting to find more pictures of my grandmother and her family from South Carolina. Instead, I pulled out an original hand-written essay entitled Southern Literature by Quinnie Shuler, held together by a single paperclip.  Gently, I lifted the cover page to reveal perfect penmanship and flowing sentences, several of which caught my eye right away: “Let us put forth an effort to arouse an interest in Southern literature. Some of us are inclined to look over the rich treasures near at hand for something in the distance. It is all well and good to read Shakespeare, Scott, Burns, Tennyson, Longfellow, Wittier, Hawthorne and others . . . but let us not entirely overlook writers of this fair South . . . for if we, their countrymen do not honor them, who can be expected to do so.”

As I read these words, I could barely contain my excitement. My mother, sensing my giddiness, glanced over at me for half a second and asked, “What are you reading?” I handed her the paper and after looking at the cover sheet, she confirmed the author, Quinnie Shuler was my great-grandmother and that she was a school teacher before she married my great-grandfather. When I told my mom the essay was coming home with me, she shrugged her shoulders and went back to fussing about Alcott’s missing masterpiece.

I left my mom’s house that day with samplers, trinkets, pictures, old newspaper clippings and the like. We never found Ms. Alcott’s award winning book, but I did leave with a thought-provoking essay, written by a strong southern woman who read and admired the same classic writers as her great-granddaughter. Without moaning or belittling, Quinnie urged her readers to “wake up and look around to see what could be accomplished in the line of literature” and to invest in Southern literature and writers as a way to advance pride, honor, and “literary progress” in a land in which so many had lost so much in the years before. And although the essay was titled and written in the interest of Southern literature, to me, it speaks of so much more. 

 

 

 

Garden Variety Diversity

I've seen a lot of commercials lately regarding the way I am supposed to live. Apparently, there's a long list of things I shouldn't say, things I need to say, and social injustices I should look for daily while driving to work or getting my morning coffee at the local fast food restaurant down the street.

One of my least favorite ads is for boxed meals that come already prepped for cooking. Perfectly cut portions of chicken or pork and vegetables, ready to cook and eat. No creativity, no freshness, no mess- just cookie-cutter meals promoted by advertisers who insist diversity is what makes the world go round. 

Do I watch too much television? Maybe. But authentic diversity to me isn't a prepackaged concept created by one group and imposed upon another. The idea of diversity tends to be at its best when it initiates organically, free from the social construct created by those "in the know."  Yes, I  like my diversity like I like my fruits, vegetables, and flowers- fresh, colorful, and naturally grown. 

I'm Going to My Garden

Soon, I'm going to my garden, where the sun shines, the flowers grow, and the peppers and tomatoes live in harmony. No worries, no distractions--just butterflies and a plethora of fruits and vegetables await me there. Yes, I'm going to my garden soon.

The Self-Aware Garden

As I sat down to eat my lunch the other day, the advert on the back of the tuna packet I was eating from caught my eye- "Behold, the thing sandwiches dream about." 

If the thought of a self-aware sandwich is a wee bit frightening to you, you may not want to read any further. However, if you're up for the challenge, here's a thought: what type of gardeners do gardens dream about? In other words, if you were a garden, what type of gardener would you like taking care of you? A no frills, barefoot cultivator with a straw hat on their head and a hoe in their hand? Or maybe a newcomer on the gardening scene, dressed from head to toe in the latest gear from the Tractor Supply Store?

 

If I may offer an opinion, I think gardens just want a gardener who is passionate about what they do. Someone who isn't just concerned with the end result, but also enjoys the journey. 

Drama-Free Zone

Ever have someone share an idea or belief with you because they thought you would endorse said idea or belief? Then, when you didn't see things their way, they became upset or agitated? 

When I encounter situations like this, I long for the quietness of my garden. No one vying for my opinion and then resenting me because I have one. Just the occasional green bean vine interlaced with the silk of a corn stalk, or a tomato plant leaning a little too far to the left or a little too far to the right. No anger, no drama, just peace and quiet.

New Garden Smell

New garden smell is to the gardener what new car smell is to the person driving off the lot in a vehicle recently saturated with Armor All and a pine tree air freshener hanging from the rear view mirror. It's exciting, a little heady, and it nourishes the soul in a way only those who garden can understand. So, as Spring swiftly approaches, get yourself geared up for gardening and that new garden smell!

To Answer Your Question

When people ask me why I invest so much time and energy into gardening, I try to provide a diplomatic response. Something along the lines of " I like plants and flowers" or "I come from a gardening family."  A standard answer to a basic question.

However, what I really want to say is: "I get to do this! I get to go outside, run my hands in the dirt, feel the warmth of the sun on my face, and a  hint of wind in my hair. I get to visit with butterflies and worms and birds, oh my! I get to connect with a community of folks who share my passion for planting a seed and watching it grow. And I get to learn something new every day.

So why gardening you ask? Why not!

 

 

Positive Advertising

Do you ever get tired of the busyness in your day-to-day life? Do you often find yourself overtaken with the stress of always having something to do, somewhere to go, someone to talk to? Tired of endless text messages, emails, and Facebook posts that constantly demand your attention?

Peace and quiet . . . coming this Spring to a garden near you!

Paper People

We've had a lot of rain lately. So much in fact that I've had to, on more than one occasion, stuff the toes of my running shoes with crumpled newspapers to dry them out.

The other day while pulling a wad of paper from one of my shoes, this thought crossed my mind:  there are paper people in my running shoes. People from different places, caught in different moments in time, all with stories that may be similar or different from mine. How many of those people are or were gardeners? I have no idea. I hope all of them, but in reality it is probably only a few. There's no way to know now that the headlines are smudged and the stories have faded.

If one day I'm a paper person, stuffed in a shoe, I hope my persona will be that of a happy gardener. I'd like to be remembered that way.

Call for Cutting Garden Tips

I'm always looking for new gardening ideas. This year, I've settled on planting a cutting garden. The idea of flowers at my fingertips with which I can fashion informal and inexpensive arrangements appeals not only to my creative nature, but also the part of me that hates to spend money when I don't have to.

Currently, I'm researching the basics of planting a cutting garden, but I'd also appreciate a few tips from my readers.  Have you planted a cutting garden before? If so, I'd love to hear from you!

Five Hundred Trees

"Five hundred trees stand in a row,
over the years in the sleet and the snow.

The longer they stand, the older they grow.
The five hundred trees that stand in a row."

I wrote this short poem when I was in elementary school and for some reason, I've never forgotten the verses. I mention it now as Christmas fast approaches and trees, both real and fake, stand tall in family rooms and foyers, delightfully adorned with bulbs, tinsel, and enough lights to create an airstrip for a small plane to land on.

And while I appreciate all of the traditions associated with the Christmas tree, my soul finds its strength in the trees adorned not with decorations but with bird nests, squirrels, and the like - in the five hundred trees that stand in a row.

The Great Escape

When I was a kid, my grandparents lived a mile or so back in the woods, or as they say where I'm from, back in the "holler."

My uncle tells the story of when he was a teenager still living at home and my sister and I came to visit our grandparents.  When our running and playing and overall childishness became too much for him to tolerate, he went to his bedroom, opened the window, crawled out, and made his way down the hill and into the woods for a little peace and quiet.

When I hear this story, I am reminded of why I love the solitude of my garden so much. Don't get me wrong. I'm all for running and playing and overall childishness. However, when I can bear no more, the garden is where I'll be.