Skip to main content

Planting Summer Flowers

Nothing spells summer to me like f-l-o-w-e-r-s.

Next to sprouting carrot tops and growing sweet potatoes in a jar of water, few garden plants are as rewarding as zinnias, marigolds and cosmos. They don't have many requirements to thrive and they produce such glorious blossoms.

As the original Fink Farm fills up with big bossy vegetables like indeterminate tomato plants, chard, basil and lettuces, herbs and ornamental plants get pushed elsewhere. A few years ago, we planted nasturtiums and marigolds in the flower beds that flank the front door.  There's good water there and afternoon shade. The nasturtiums have lingered on.

Farmer Karen had a burst of energy in late April and dug up a tough patch of ground along the front of the garage. It's tough for a number of reasons. An enormous tree once grew in that area, and while the tree became diseased and had to be removed, plenty of roots were left behind. There's some irrigation nearby, but the water barely reaches the garage. Lastly, the soil has probably been undisturbed since the house was built in 1954.  It certainly hasn't had compost.

Garden wisdom suggests that we should have been planting in March when the sun is gentler on new plants. We were otherwise engaged then. The mood struck in May, so that's when I gathered up my flats of zinnias, several varieties of marigolds, cosmos and an odd, wildflower-like plant with tiny sunset colored flowers from my favorite local nursery, Sego's.

I carefully measured out the spacing between plants, visions of a lush old-fashioned flower garden dancing in my head. In the past month, we've only lost one marigold plant. We've been diligent about carrying water cans out to supplement what comes from the irrigation system.

We were so pleased with our productivity, that we decided to plant another two or three feet east of our new flower bed with drought-resistant or California natives.  We ran off to the Theodore Payne Foundation for Wild Flowers and Native Plants. A lovely woman helped us as we dragged wagon and dog through the sales area. She gently persuaded us that putting drought-loving plants next to water-loving flowers, wasn't going to be a good idea. Nor, she pointed out, was planting just as the heat of the summer set in. We leashed in our enthusiasm, toured the gift shop, joined the foundation and bought a lovely T-shirt. We'll be back in the fall.


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Know Your Soil For Best Garden Results

I've always taken soil for granted. It was there. You put seeds into it. You put water on it. Plants grow and produce flowers, fruit or vegetables. Gayle Weinstein, author of Xeriscape Handbook; A How-To Guide to Natural, Resource-Wise Gardening , takes a different view: “Soil . . . acts as a highway between life and death, land and atmosphere, plants and animals.” It stores water, air and nutrients and makes it possible for an exchange of elements and chemical reactions to occur, she adds. She describes soil as being animal, vegetable and mineral combined. Here are six tests Gayle recommends for getting to know your soil. Grab a shovel and a quart jar. Dig up two cups of dry soil two-to-six inches deep from the areas you want to test. Gather a glass of water, dish washing detergent and paper towels. A soil pH kit, a meter or litmus paper will be needed for the final test.

Hand-Knit Trellis Now Ready for Climbing Foot-Long Beans

Just as the "June" gloom is starting to burn off, I finished my knitted trellis for the garden. It completely surrounds one of our bamboo tripods, with space at the bottom for tending the romaine lettuces growing within the tripod. It's knit out of nylon twine on US 35 needles. While the nylon has no stretch (the way a wool yarn does), the huge gauge has loads of give. The piece was knit flat with ties attached along one edge.  It is tied to the tripod along one leg. One some early samples for a knitted plant trellis, I experimented with lace patterns.  They look lovely, but I realized two things. One, once the plants grow up the trellis any knitting pattern is lost. Secondly, the plants and leaves need space to grow in and out of. I used a pattern for a shawl: k1, yo, k2tog and then repeat. I got lost a number of times: the yarn-overs drifted over other stitches on occasion. As this was a speed project that won't be visible ones the beans grow over it, I didn...

Water saving ollas

When you're saving water, the first step is to get the water where it's needed in the most direct way possible. No sprinkler heads rising like swans in a ballet to spew water 18-inches above the ground, splashing sidewalks and gutters. No sprinklers nodding back and forth sending sprays of water as tall as a child. Nope, it's irrigation dripping directly at the base of a stem or water bubbling at dirt-level. You can't get much more direct than an olla (pronounced oy-ya ). In the irrigation world, an olla is a clay pot, usually with a round bottom and a longish thin neck that is planted in the dirt next to plants that need water.  The dirt is mounded around the pot so that only the end of the neck shows. Water is poured into the opening to fill the buried pot. The clay absorbs water that in turn is absorbed by the dry earth surrounding it.  The plant gets a slow steady supply of water. Because the pot is buried, there's little exposure to the air and evaporatio...