Whooping thru Transplant Time, with Bulbs

Post 52

Happy Autumn, but not so happy for me. It looks like, or rather sounds like I've had/ have Whooping Cough, which explains why my brain has not been abuzz with potential blog posts, or much else. Add in my seasonal allergies and asthma, and a good description would be--feels like being run over by a truck. But not as serious in adults as children. Its an old-fashioned disease, only back because of parents' trepidation about immunization.

It also explains why it has been so hard for me to engage in my usual fall activity --transplanting perennials while planting bulbs at the same time.


A few weeks ago I set myself the small goal of getting rid of my overgrown fennel (Foeniculum vulgare). I love fennel--but boy does it grow. It is a great foliage plant, its spindly leaves form into soft olivey clouds that contrasts with its  its teal-grey stalks. It adds interest to whatever is around it.

It is a cooking herb with an anise flavor. I've sauteed it's yellow flowers and fresh leaves in olive oil with garlic and onion to toss over pasta. Quite nice.

The yellow flowers bloom in July and August and then they turn into seed heads. Each seed is about the size of a pine nut with a softly anisey, sweet flavor. Parents used to give them as a special treat to their children during long church services, back when long church services were common and sugar was rare.


So, though I like this plant, I can't let it take over my yard.  On the right is a pic of a clump I cut back before digging it out ( it can grow past three feet high and one foot wide.)  I barely managed to leverage it properly. Its roots were large and took considerable prying out. I love using a transplanting spade, which is about 8 inches wide but 24 inches long. It allows you to slide in deep under the plant, which really helps if you do not want to wreck your back.

After it popped out I dug the hole to be  wider. Into the hole went tulip bulbs, which were covered with a thin layer of dirt, Bulbtone and hot sauce. Yes, hot sauce. Squirrels do not like chili-laden earth. Next layer was hyacinth and squill bulbs, followed by the earth, fertilizer, hot sauce  mix, then came the peonies, white peonies planted very shallowly--then a whole lot of hot sauce all over the surrounding bare earth.

Not very pretty at the moment , is it. But come spring... you will see this sort of thing.

Which is well worth the effort. 

I am planning to try roasting the fennel roots, which should be good. Fennel has seeded around other parts of the garden so I can spare these roots.

                                                                                                    -- In Fall, therefore, do not double your work. Plant bulbs into the holes you have already made when removing a too-large plant. And do not forget the hot sauce, unless your mix of bulbs includes daffodils, which seem to have a similar effect on wildlife.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      I may be slow in posting for awhile. Whooping Cough takes 6 weeks and I have only had it for a month, so there is at least two more weeks to go, though at least I am no longer whooping. But as soon as I can I will be back in the garden and on the blog.

Two Kindly Weeds: Morning Glory Grandpa Otts and Gloaming Mistflower

 Post 51

Early Fall is when the air freshens up and it is pleasure to go back into the garden, a pleasure, that is, until you notice the weeds.

As you start to clear stuff out: weeds and dead or rotting matter, mildewed stems and spotted leaves, you realize that there is less blooming than earlier in the season. Annuals, the ones that did not burn out in the heat, are still strong but most perennials are done.

If you are lucky some perennials will look good as they age , such as the cones of the Pee-Gee hydrangea, above right. Still, if it were not for two late-flowering, beautiful, rampant things,  much of the garden would loose luster well before its end.

Here is my hell strip with some pink asters and the two kindly weeds: Granpa Otts Morning Glory and Wild Ageratum, or Mist Flower.

Though they spread like green rampage, they can work well in a wild garden

And why would I call a Morning Glory a weed? Well, because this one acts like one; it's hard to kill, overpasses its boundaries and, if allowed, can strangle other plants. Nevertheless, it is a kindly weed because it does not get its full growth till late in the season when you have the space and need the color. Best of all, it is easy to yank or hoe out, you do not even have to dig.

Here is what the Seed Savers Exchange says about it--

"(Ipomoea purpurea) One of the original Bavarian varieties that started SSE. Given to Kent and Diane (Ott) Whealy in 1972 by her grandfather, Baptist John Ott, who lived on a 40-acre farm near St. Lucas, Iowa. Beautiful deep purple flower with a red star in its throat. Reliably self-seeds each year. Plants will climb 15' or more, if given support. Self-seeding hardy annual at Heritage Farm (zone 4)."

 So, buy one seed packet once, and you will have this forever. Because it is dark, and has a cool navy purple with streaks of hot violet, its flower, though small, looks  dramatic and dynamic.

 Mistflower, on the other hand, is a receding blue grey that looks best at twilight, when the blue takes on a weird, delightful glow. It is a bit of a filler since it looks best highlighted by bolder plants.

The way I handle its invasiveness is that every year, once bloom is done, I pull it out by its shallow roots. Yet, by June of the next year, it starts to pop up again. This is good, cause this is an area where I have had a lot of bulbs and spring ephemerals.  With this late riser, I get two seasons out of one patch of soil. 

For me, it's less effort to restrain vigorous plants than to cajole fussy ones. And I like the balance of wildness to tame that they engender. This is probably more of a reflection of my particular inner balance than of any practical gardening wisdom. 

Whatever it is that gives personal style to the garden, or any other aspect of your life, it comes from inside you.

 
All the tips in the world, books, quotes, guides, are just fodder for the deep part of yourself that creates.

That creates out of love.