Garden Rant

Rant on the Road: Pennsylvania and Ohio

The North Museum is doing a very cool bug exhibit that includes a bit of wickedness--a traveling art exhibit based on Wicked Bugs, using original etchings from the book.

And then I'm on to Ohio.  See you there?

 

March 1, 2012, 7 PM
North Museum of Natural History & Science
Lancaster, PA

March 3, 2012
Miami Valley Gardening Conference
Dayton, OH

The New Sunset Book is Here!

I feel like this every time a new edition of the Sunset Western Garden Book arrives. (I wish I could just embed that video--that would be so awesome--but copyright protections are just so sophisticated these days.  Go watch the first 30 seconds or so and come back.)

Okay?  Yeah.  The new Sunset book is here!  Things are going to start happening to me now!

I know that it's rare for me to get so excited about a reference book, but if you live on the West Coast, this is THE book to have.  It's the first book any gardener will buy, and it's the only book we'll keep buying, as each new edition comes out. It is indispensable. That's a pretty good deal those Sunset people have--just release a new edition every once in a while, and watch people ditch their old one and line up to get the next one.

The book describes 9000 plants, which always leads me to think that if it isn't in Sunset, I'm either very impressed or highly suspicious.  The charming yet vexing illustrations have been replaced with clear, useful photographs. Bits of how-to are sprinkled throughout.  There's a renewed emphasis on edibles.  Pretty much everything you'd want is here.  I think the highest praise I can give to an updated reference book is that I look through it and just shrug and go, "Yep.  They did it." 

Now, for those of you who don't live out here, you must understand that the most useful thing Sunset has done for us is to tell the USDA zone map to go screw itself.  Well, Sunset didn't actually say that.  I said that.  What Sunset actually did was to create their own zone map that breaks the western states (New Mexico, Colorado, Wyoming, Montana, Saskatchewan, and everything west of that) into 29 microclimate-specific zones that help us figure out what will ACTUALLY grow in our gardens.  I'm in zone 17, although I do feel some kinship with zone 15.

So my favorite feature of the new edition is the vegetable planting charts that begin on page 700. My vegetable gardening attempts have been so hit-or-miss in the last few years that I really don't know, for instance, when to plant a turnip. (January, says Sunset, or Aug/Sept.) Believe me, once I finish chicken-proofing my raised beds, I'm going to put that chart to good use.

I thought I was going to get through this post without the requisite "final paragraph quibble" but I here it is after all:

Now, some of you may be wondering:  where's the ebook?  Where's the iPad version, with embedded video, links to sources, slideshows showing the plant in every stage of growth, etc?  Well, there's not one. There's also no straightforward ebook edition of any kind (I can see why--all design-rich books look terrible in standard ebook formatting.) There is a pretty useful plant finder online, but some plants are missing photos or only have the drawings.  I hear there's a smartphone app, but I can't find it after 10 minutes of searching online and on iTunes, so it might as well not exist if it's not easy to find.

So--but--well--that's okay, I guess. If they start planning now, the next edition can be some sort of database-driven thing that can go print or digital. Maybe the technology will have matured a little by then, anyway.

Okay, now it's your turn! Comment to win a free copy--just tell us your own Sunset story, or tell us why you so desperately need a new edition, or--you know. Just post a comment. Extra credit this time for limericks or other verse forms. You have until Monday-ish.  Go!

 

Tree Height in the News

Michigan's just-right trees - red maple and butternut

It's not every day that plants are playas in presidential politics, so let's pause to enjoy the spotlight shone on  trees by Mitt Romney, who explained his love of Michigan this way - "The trees are the right height" - before going moving on to the subject of cars. 

Now before dismissing this as a one-off idea that came to him suddenly and will never be repeated (because sadly, his profession of tree-height love has drawn ridicule), it's a statement he's made before that, and since.  (Source.)

So what IS the right height for trees?  WaPo's Al Kamen (a Midwesterner and old beau of this blogger) helps:

The region’s red maples (40 feet at maturity) and butternuts (50 feet) — in contrast to the West Coast’s ultra-imposing redwoods or the South’s live oaks or the iconic Southern magnolia — are somehow gentler and feel a bit more accessible. And the fall colors, well, goes without saying.

 Soooo, they're gentle, not ultra-imposing like those West Coasters.  Yeah, who could love a redwood?

But here it gets complicated.  Diligent journalists have investigated Romney's relationship with trees and come up with one of those flip-flops they love to bash him for:  he may love trees now but he once punched one.  Punching a tree being something that Michiganders do when they need to blow off steam?   

All this tree talk has  inspired one comedy writer to speak up for the trees, many of whom may be suddenly feeling bad about their own heights, not being Michigan trees and all.  From A Tree Responds:    

I am an ordinary, God and lightning fearing arboreal-American. I did not choose to be this height, it is simply what I grew to. I could no more consciously change my height than you could deliberately change your sexual preference...

Speaking for America's 800 million trees -- minus, of course, Michigan's six million perfectly-sized ones -- I urge you to consider your words more carefully in the future. We may not be voters, we may not be human, we may not even be what you would call sentient, but we have sap, we have bark, and we have feelings. I may not be the "right" height but my roots are long enough to reach the ground, and that's good enough for me.

I am deciduous oak and I approve this message.

Moving on to whole other plant group, it's not just trees that are right in Michigan - it's the grass, too!  Here's what Romney said last November:

I love being in Michigan. Everything seems right here. You know, I come back to Michigan; the trees are the right height. The grass is the right color for this time of year, kind of a brownish-greenish sort of thing. It just feels right.

Great!  He actually likes it that grass turns "brownish"!  I think he's ready to join the Lawn Reform gang.

Honestly, all this plant talk is making me kinda like the guy.

More lovable plant in your state?

I can't help but wonder if I were campaigning in Maryland, what I'd proclaim my love for, Maryland-wise and plant-wise.  I'd probably offer up the state flower, the cheerful Black-eyed Susan.  Not sure if that's a vote-getter, but it's all I've got.

Photo credits:  Butternut tree, red maple.

Here's How to Beat The Snowless Winter Blues

Another fantabulous video made by my genius neighbor Sean O'Donnell.

An irreverent plantmaster strikes again

Now we know what it takes to get people in State College, PA excited about plants in the middle of winter. Just include caricatures of the major players in Penn State’s recent sex abuse scandal as part of the anarchic mash-up of headline-makers appearing on the cover of this year’s Plant Delights catalog. Apparently, the college’s powerful alumni community is in a frenzy over the depictions of Paterno (who was still alive when the drawing was commissioned) and Sandusky, who appear along with the usual cadre of political candidates and other public figures.

I like the zany cartoons Tony Avent commissions from Raleigh artist Jack Pittman for Plant Delights’ catalogs for the same reason that the irreverent plant hunter says he uses them. They’re different. The bizarre scenarios are suggestive, but never seem to make any kind of conclusive political point. Which is the point. Usually I look at them long enough to identify the major figures and get a sense of the central theme, then I turn the page to read the plant descriptions (which are usually way more entertaining than the cover drawings). Then I try to figure out if I can afford to buy anything. To be honest, this cover didn’t seem any edgier than last year’s Facebook theme or the one a few seasons back about health care.

But that is because I am not a college football fanatic. Clearly, I will never understand the fervent loyalty of those who are. I’ve never seen my alma mater the University at Buffalo’s team play, I’m not even sure what their name is, and couldn’t care less if their season is 10-0 or 0-10.

This summer, while all the football teams—college or otherwise—are at their training camps, I’ll be evaluating the performance of my own players, which I hope will include some of Tony Avent’s starting lineup. I always buy at least one hellebore, a couple colocasia, and as many interesting perennials as I can afford. Though I’m not a huge fan of all the funky new Echinacea varietals, PD is offering several unusually tall hybrids. If they get higher than 3 feet in NC, I’m guessing they’ll stretch even more in a coolor climate with a bit more shade. I also have a Patrinia scabiosifolia (Golden Lace) circled. Tall, airy stems with chrome-yellow flowers and takes light shade. Touchdown!

I will be passing by Raleigh just in time for a Plant Delights open house on the way back from the beach this year, and hope to add a few impulse purchases, as well as get another look at the ever-evolving Juniper Level botanic gardens. As some of you may know, especially if you receive the PD enewsletter, Tony Avent lost his wife Michelle a few weeks ago; she had been battling cancer for four years.

Best wishes to him. And many thanks to both him and Michelle for all the great plants.

Short History of Humans Eating Fruits and - not so much - Vegetables

 

Eliot, Nice To Get To Know You Better

I thoroughly enjoyed Anne Raver's New York TImes piece this week on vegetable gardening's sovereign couple: Eliot Coleman, author of among others Four-Season Harvest and Barbara Damrosch, author of among others The Garden Primer.  

Coleman, who spent his youth travelling, skiing, rock-climbing, and kayak racing, delighted me particularly because he was drawn to farming for reasons no non-gardener or non-farmer would ever suspect: for the excitement.

"I was an adventurer,” Mr. Coleman said. Farming is still the greatest adventure of his life, he said.

“This mountain doesn’t have a top, and getting there is the fun,” Mr. Coleman said. “Standing on the top is boring as hell, so this has been some 44 years trying to figure out how to get there.”

Amen.  Growing food?  It never grows old. 

The Extra Edibles

Today we have a Guest Rant from Willi Galloway, who has just published Grow, Cook, Eat, a vegetable gardening guide that includes recipes, too.  I particularly enjoyed Galloway's intrepid way of looking at the entire vegetable plant, not just the parts that you can find in the supermarket.  That's what she's going to tell us about today: the forgotten bits of spring crops that make for surprisingly good eating.

 Little baby beet leaves, fennel pollen, garlic scapes, and the tender tips of pea shoots are some of the very best reasons to grow your own food. When you plant a garden you have the luxury of harvesting and eating vegetables at different stages in their lifecycle—not just the one that is best suited to packaging, shipping, and displaying in a supermarket. Most vegetables are grown for a main crop (e.g. radish roots or sugar snap pea pods), but also produce what I think of as extra edibles—leaves, seeds, seedpods, and flower blossoms that taste delicious and almost never find their way into grocery stores. Some of these extra edibles are almost better than the standard crop! Here are three of my favorites:

Garlic Scapes

I would grow garlic just for its scapes—the slender stalk and beak-shaped buds that emerge in late spring. Scapes have the texture of a green onion and a mild, garlicky, slightly grassy flavor. You can harvest them at any time, but they have the best texture and taste early in their life. When scapes first appear their stalk grows straight up, then it curves into curlicues before eventually straightening up again. The bud itself swells in size as it matures. Clip a scape off just as the stalk begins to curl, when the bud is still compact. Use scissors and make the cut right where the stalk emerges from the leaves. Scapes make phenomenal pesto, but you can also grill them whole, or pickle the stalks. One of the dishes I look forward to making all year is garlic scape pesto tossed with freshly shelled English peas and pasta.

Link to the pesto recipe:

http://www.digginfood.com/2009/07/garlic-scape-pesto-two-ways/

Pea Shoots

Last summer I planted some extra pea seeds in a little terracotta pot that was knocking around the garage and set it on our patio table as the centerpiece. For the next couple of months we would sit around the table and snack on the pea shoots while we drank beers in the garden. Pea shoots—the leaves, stem, tendrils, and blossoms at the tip of each plant—taste sweet with a subtle pea flavor. When you pinch the shoots back, new ones emerge in a matter of days, making this a great cut-and-come-again crop. To harvest, start at the tip of a shoot and follow the stem down past the new growth to the next lowest leaf. If you look close, you should see a little bright green nub at the base of the leaf, right next to the stem. Pinch directly above the leaf and the little nub, which will soon grow into a new shoot (you can see photos of exactly where to pinch here). We like to toss the shoots with lemon vinaigrette and thick shavings of Parmesan cheese or use them as a garnish on soups.  

Link to the post with step-by-step instructions on harvesting pea shoots:

http://www.digginfood.com/2011/07/how-to-harvest-pea-shoots/

Green Coriander Seeds

Cilantro bolts up towards the sky and develops sprays of dainty white flowers as the days lengthen, or at the first hint of heat. This is a frustrating habit if you want to harvest cilantro’s leaves, but convenient if you like to eat its seeds, which are the spice, coriander.  The seeds are most often harvested when they are dry and brown, but they are a real treat at the green stage. They taste citrusy and herby and not at all like cilantro leaves. They are one of my very favorite secret ingredients for marinades and dressings. But the best way to enjoy green coriander seed is infused in vodka. My friend David Perry introduced me to this concept and for that I am very thankful. The vodka takes on the citrusy flavor of the coriander seed and tastes amazing with a splash of soda and a squeeze of lime. Harvest the green seeds just after they develop when they look like emerald green BBs. Use the seeds fresh or toss them into a little lidded glass container and keep them in the freezer. To infuse the vodka, toss a good handful of green coriander seeds into a bottle of vodka and infuse for a couple of weeks. Strain out the seeds and start making cocktails.

Many other spring vegetables produce extra edibles. Try eating arugula blossoms, radish flowers and seedpods, fava greens, and the small, broccoli-like flower buds of kale, mustard greens, and Asian greens like bok choy! 

 Photo credits: Jim Henkens

The Highways BEE Act: Politics as Usual

Sigh.  So here's a perfectly smart and sensible bill that's going nowhere. Has anyone been following the Highways BEE Act?  It is a revenue-neutral bill (should actually save money) that directs the Secretary of Transportation to use already existing resources and programs to work with the state highway departments, which manage the greenery around interstate highways.  The idea is to get them to use an already-existing approach called IVM (integrated vegetation management) to mow less, plant more natives, and allow highway right-of-ways to serve as habitat for pollinators, ground-nesting birds, etc.

Again.  Revenue-neutral. Already all set up. Enjoys wide support.  Expected to save the states money.

So what's the problem?

Certain members of Congress feel that the government should not be involved in highways at all, and that this bill simply represents more unwanted government interference. 

That's right.  You heard me. Interstate highways should not be government-run. 

I'm just going to pause and let that one sink in for a minute.

If you're not sure which "certain members" I'm talking about, here's a hint:  They were recently voted into office by people who shouted things like "Get the government out of my Medicare" at rallies.

Yeah.

The highway bill is being held up for all sorts of reasons right now.  You can imagine the kind of pointless bickering that's going on.

But this?  Please.

Read more about the bill here.

Sign a petition here.

Please spread the word. If you want to tweet this out, give a little shout-out to @Pollinators, the good folks behind this thing.

Oh, and Congress?  Could you please, for once, just lighten up and do something sensible and not turn everything into a huge, unnecessary drama and just get back to work and quietly and nicely do your job?

I didn't think so.

Rant on the Road: Walnut Creek, CA

This'll be my first time at The Gardens at Heather Farm.  Looks like a lovely spot. Do come out and say hello if you're in the neighborhood, and check out their speaker series here.

February 23, 2012 7 PM
The Gardens at Heather Farm
Walnut Creek, CA

Dear Seed Companies: Please Stop Making It So Damn Hard To Love You.

Just look at this amazing, astonishing, beautiful, very unusual new purple tomato.  Does it not fill your heart with lust?  Do you not want to order one of these RIGHT NOW?

What?  You don't see it?  Why is that?

Because the seed companies make it so damn hard to get a picture, that's why!  I have spent way too much time this morning looking for a photo I can use of 'Indigo Rose,' this glorious new tomato I read about in the San Francisco Chronicle this morning.

I took the time to search around and find seed companies selling the plant, and even emailed a few of them asking for permission to use their photo, all to no avail.  I also hunted around on their website for some sort of Terms of Use section that would tell me whether or not I could grab a picture, or a Media section with downloads I could use.

Nothing.

So.  Here's a hint, seed (and plant) companies:  Make this easy.  Put a link in your footer that says,
"Use of Photos" or something very obvious.  On that page, just say whether or not we can grab a photo for use online or in print.

Or!  If you want a little more control?  Have an online form that people fill out.  Have them link to their publication, and link to the photo they want to use.  Send an auto-responder message back that either says "yes" or "no" depending on the photo.  If the answer is "yes," be sure your response says, "You can use this photo as long as you link back to us (or whatever).  Remember that you have to use this form every time you want to use one of our photos, because copyrights vary and we want to keep track of who's using our stuff."

Or something.  Figure it out.  But please, make it a little easier to love you.

I'm talking to you, Johnny's, High Mowing, Nichols, Territorial, and even you nice people at OSU who developed the thing.

OK.  Follow the links.  Look at the pictures.  Commence lust.

Experimenting With Free

This is ever so slightly off-topic, but I know that many of you are writers, or landscapers, or small business owners, or self-employed people of some sort.  If you are, you have been asked at some point to give your work away for free.  Maybe you've wondered if "free" is the new "paid" and if there's some amount of giving stuff away for free that actually, paradoxically, weirdly, will pay off in some tangible way.

So if you're a writer, you may know that a Great Debate is raging about Amazon's new program for the Kindle, in which Amazon Prime members can "borrow" one Kindle book per month for free, Netflix-style. If you've published your own book on the Kindle, you can enroll in the lending library and get paid when Prime members borrow your book.  And you can give your Kindle ebook away, for free, for up to 5 days.  In exchange, Amazon gets a 90-day exclusive on your ebook.

So there is a HUGE debate about whether this is a terrible thing or a wonderful thing.  I won't rehash it here.  I'll just say that when I looked at sales of my novel on all other ebook platforms, I saw that I'd only sold 3 copies in the last 3 months through non-Amazon outlets, and decided I could afford to take it off the market for a 90-day trial period without unduly depriving the reading public of my literary contributions.

So my novel, The Last Bookstore in America, (which is itself about the future of books and bookstores in the digital age) is free to you Kindle owners through Thursday night. Go get it if you want it.  As of this writing, 13,500 other people already have.

What do you think of free?  Of course, this blog is practically free--we get a little beer money from the ads, but it's never been enough to pay an actual bill. When is free worthwhile?  When (from a business or career standpoint) does it make sense to give something away?

I'd love to hear your thoughts.

Cactomania: We Have a Winner!

Thanks, everyone, for your highly amusing comments on Scott Calhoun's post about his fine new book, The Gardener's Guide to Cactus.  I was just in Phoenix for a day, and I drove around with a genuine interest and curiosity about the cacti I saw, all thanks to Scott and his clever insights into them.

Anyway, our winner is Michelle at An Evidence-Based Garden, and y'all should really get over there and read her blog, which is just fascinating.

Federal landscapes go sustainable

Somehow I missed some really big news - the October 31 announcement of new requirements for federal landscapes.  Should I blame the less than eye-catching announcement itself, shown above?  Or maybe the administration is trying to keep this tree-hugging move under the radar.  Whatever - it's great news!

Warning to readers: we're about to get wonky here. 

First promised in the fall of '09, the feds have completed the monumental task of compiling the  Guidance for Federal Agencies on Sustainable Practices for Designed Landscapes.

This guidance is to be used by Federal agencies for landscape practices when constructing new, or rehabilitating existing, owned or leased facilities, or when landscaping improvements are otherwise planned.

The Federal government controls or owns more than 41 million acres of land and 429,000 building assets, comprising 3.34 billion square feet of space in the United States. Consequently, landscaping practices by Federal agencies can have significant impacts on the environment. Decisions regarding the development and maintenance of Federal landscaped property provide an opportunity to promote the sustainable use of water and land, conserve soils and vegetation, support natural ecosystem functions, conserve materials, promote human health and well-being, and ensure accessibility for all users, including those with disabilities.

First, try to imagine all federal buildings being surrounded by landscapes that actually do all of the above.  Think post offices, courthouses, military facilities, and so on.  Not just owned land but leased, too.  That means that any developers hoping to someday find a federal tenant will presumably follow these guidelines.

Will we no longer see new courthouses like this or White House scenes like this?

"Reduce, with aim to eliminate, the use of potable water, natural surface water (such as lakes, rivers, and streams), and groundwater withdrawals for landscape irrigation."  Just reading that one detail, I imagine the increased use for drought-tolerant groundcovers and decreased acreage of conventional turf.

In the realm of plant choice, here's what the guidance says:

• Preserve existing native vegetation
• Maintain existing historic landscapes and plantings
• Prevent, detect, control, and manage invasive plants
• Maintain existing historic landscapes and plantings
• Use native plants: Where practicable, use vegetation native to the ecoregion. (Note: not just "native", but "to the ecoregion".)
• Use vegetation to minimize building heating and cooling requirements
• Use trees and other vegetation to offset emissions of greenhouse gases from operations
• Reduce urban heat island effects
• Reuse salvaged materials and plants
• Support sustainable practices in plant production
• Use regional materials

And there's a whole section on "human health and well-being", nicely echoing the First Lady's Let's Move! campaign:

• Encourage outdoor activities: On-site amenities such as community gardens, bike trails, playgrounds, and workout stations should be provided to encourage outdoor activities. Appropriate support services, such as drinking fountains, emergency call boxes, and safety lighting should also be included. To the extent possible, on-site systems, such as trails and paths, should be connected to local and regional systems and access to parks and open space within 0.25 mile.
• Use vegetation to promote community/employee morale and well-being activities: Rooftop gardens, community gardens, and vertical gardens inside or outside of buildings, adjacent or connecting to the landscape should be considered in order to promote educational programs, food access, and gardening activities for morale and community engagement.
• Create quiet outdoor spaces for relaxation and restoration, small group interaction, and views... Where possible, seating areas with unique or beautiful views and minimal noise should be provided.following actions.

This is so comprehensive, I can't find anything missing - there's even a directive to reduce light pollution.

One sticky wicket must have been the concerns of the historic preservation folks because there's lots about respecting landscapes in "cultural or historic settings".  

Plant materials in cultural landscapes and designed historic sites may be non-native, naturalized and in some cases managed invasive species. Plants that are character-defining features of a cultural landscape should be preserved.

So, English ivy doesn't have to be ripped out where it's deemed historic, I guess.

About maintenance, the directive is to "Implement sustainable site maintenance," which they define as: organic fertilizer, Integrated Pest Management, seasonal performance-based mowing (spring 3”, summer 4-5”, fall 4”), and annual pruning practices, as opposed to regular shearing.  Also, recycling of organic matter (another term for composting?)

Sorry to report, leaf-blowers aren't outlawed but there is a directive to "increase fuel economy through acquisition of smaller vehicles, hybrid-electric vehicles, and alternative fuels vehicles and landscape equipment." That's something.

Questions
I have lots of them, like: How will this be enforced?  And how much will existing landscapes be changed by this?  And just curious: Would the EPA headquarters' low-impact landscaping comply, or does it have too many nonnative plants? 

Readers, add your questions and comments and I'll try to get them answered - first by contacting the good folks at the U.S. Botanic Garden who shepherded this project through the bureaucracy.  Thirty-one federal agencies participated in the process, plus 13 "advisors representing local and regional constituencies."  Can you imagine how many meetings that meant having to endure? 

Now roses are too hard

"At some point, it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. [Landscape] roses will be all you have; the beautiful, unique hybrid teas will be gone."
—Charlie Anderson, president of Weeks Roses

 This makes me sad. I’m no big fan of hybrid teas, but for me the romance of growing roses includes all the different types. An article in the Sacramento Bee discusses a decline in the use of hybrid teas, as homeowners plump for low-maintenance landscape roses (think Knock Out), which don’t need any special care (extra fertilizing, nurturing through diseases and infestations, etc.). If “special care” means using more chemicals, I’m all for not using hybrid teas. But I haven’t used chemicals on my roses for eight years. I have a few David Austins, climbers (above), and old roses (Louise Odier, Blush Noisette), and I would never consider giving them up in favor of any of the new easy-care series.

When I started planning a garden, the first flowers I thought of were roses and lilies. I pored through rose books, then catalogs, and ended up ordering mainly old roses from a couple vendors. Exactly two of them survived, and I think that’s pretty good, given the generally shady conditions and equally general ineptitude of the gardener.

The fragrance-free, nondescript flowers of the new easy-care shrubs wouldn’t be worth the space they’d take up in my small urban property, though I have seen them in action as large public plantings, and heartily approve for the most part. In fact, I’d agree with this telling quote from the Bee article—"People don't even see Knock Out as a rose any more; it's a landscape plant." Exactly.

I think these big companies like Weeks should start pushing their heirloom and antique roses more. Many are just as sturdy as any of the new shrubs, and though they may not bloom as much, I would take one blowsy, deliciously-scented  Louise Odier or Abraham Darby—neither of which gets or requires any special care—over 100 Knock Outs.

The tulips + Eco-Lawn experiment in progress

At the request of my friend Miriam Goldberger, co-founder and owner of Wildflower Farm, I have sown Eco-Lawn grass seed in my forced tulips, which are coming up now. Eco-Lawn is a fescue grass that, according to the WF site, is drought-tolerant, can be left unmown, and grows in shade. I can't attest to these claims, because I don't have a lawn and have never tried to grow or maintain one.

But this seemed like an interesting project. So far I like the effect of this grass. I have grown it in pots outside—again, just for fun—and of course it gets much thicker in those conditions. For grass grown indoors in winter, I think it's doing pretty well.

I'll post again when we have blooms on this and the other pots of tulips/grass I have going.

Winners of the Sonia Day books

Congratulations to our winners! Lisa/Chickens on the Lawn gets The Untamed Garden and A. Marina Fournier wins Incredible Edibles.

I know I am late posting this. Actually I was in the salon chair when 10 am struck. Beauty first, in the garden and in all things. Or most. I can tell Lisa at least would agree, judging from the Ryan Gosling visuals on her blog. Check it out!

Oh darn—too late for valentine's Day

This beef bouquet, as with much of the botanical-related weirdness I find on the interwebs, comes courtesy of Neatorama.com (first sighting) and  hungeree.com (original).

Joking aside, these flowers are better value and much more useful (if you're a carnivore) than the sadly short-lived and near-odorless red roses that were sold by the gazillions Tuesday.

A garden author who swings both ways

WINNERS WILL BE ANNOUNCED SATURDAY AT 10 A.M. EST.

Remember Sonia Day’s engaging guest post here about heirloom tomatoes, lawns, native plants, and other hot button topics?

You should also know that the Toronto-based garden writer has two recent books out that represent the yin and yang of garden writing in many ways. Her latest, The Untamed Garden (McClelland and Stewart, 2011), comes in one of the most alluring packages I have seen in some time. The abbreviated wrapper suggesting a brown paper bag unfolds to reveal a gorgeous reproduction of Alma-Tadema’s Roses of Heliogabalus. Inside this pretty package is a diverse and humorously told selection of plant lore, lavishly illustrated with photography and reproductions of botanical drawings and paintings. Day poses and answers such questions as: Which suggestive plant caused a queen to faint when it was presented to her at court? Why are figs and pomegranates thought to be the real culprits for getting Adam and Eve kicked out of the Garden of Eden? Why is coco de mer “the most erotically charged plant on the planet?” Fun.

Day’s earlier title is at the opposite end of the spectrum—a how-to for urban gardeners and perfect for beginners’ level. Incredible Edibles: 43 Fun Things to Grow in the City (Firefly Books, 2010) runs down a list of vegetables, fruits, and herbs that are suitable for urban cultivation, with brisk advice, recipes, and a bright, photo-centric design. This is a book I might give my husband, who just started growing food last summer.

Most of my garden reading these days tends toward the essay end of the spectrum—Lloyd, Lawrence, Pavord, White, and others. Now that my garden is pretty much designed and full, I tend to enjoy finding affinities in the writing of other gardeners rather than frustrating myself by learning about projects and plantings I’ll never undertake. But I can appreciate a how-to as uncomplicated and attractive as this one. Oh, and it has recipes too.

We’re giving away these two books, and this is how it will work. Where do you land in the spectrum between how-to and essay? Answer in comments and there will be two winners.

It’s Not Gardening, It’s Cactomania

Y'all please welcome Friend of Rant Scott Calhoun, author of a new book called The Gardener's Guide to Cactus. Read on for the chance to win not just a book, but an actual cactus. I have to say, this is a totally amazing and really fun book.  Gardening with surgical instruments?  Japanese plant smugglers?  Cacti that are so rare that the only remaining specimens wear metal tags in the wild?  Cacti bred by Luther Burbank?  Who knew? Oh, and after reading his book, I now know how to select a cactus that is seed-grown, not poached from the wild, except when poaching is a good thing,which involves conservations groups grabbing rare cacti from sites that are about to be strip-mined or drilled for oil.  There's a lot of international intrigue in this book, is what I'm saying.  But let's let Scott say it: 

 Why cactus?

I tend to specialize in horticultural lost causes, and cactus are the outcasts and misfits of the gardening world. While I was photographing gardens around the U.S. for my book, Designer Plant Combinations, it occurred to me that most home gardens contain exactly zero species of cactus. In my estimation, they are the most underrepresented group of plants in gardens, nurseries, and plant books.

As I stewed over this injustice, my own cactus collection expanded. I grew a species of pincushion whose flowers smell exactly like Lemon Pledge, and a prickly pear cactus whose fruit makes alluring magenta lemonade and margaritas. I added the totem pole, whose spineless skin looks like melted wax, and the feather cactus whose furry spines feel like the hair of a terrier. I became ensnared in a love affair with spiny plants. I caught, and still have, an STD (spine transmitted disease) called cactomania.

An impressive pot of twin-spined pincushion (Mammillaria geminispina) growing with the wildflower sundrops (Calylophus hartwegii).

I began taking long dangerous trips into the Mexican backcountry with succulent plant explorers. I became acquainted with a vast subculture of spiny plant enthusiasts and cactus traders across the globe: a Bangkok peyote grower, a Tokyo executive who collects living rock cactus, and a young Czech organizing a Prague conference called “Spiny Perspectives”. I lusted after artisan made pots fashioned to resemble meteorites and sea creatures.

A display of otherworldly Mike Cone spiny pots and assorted cactus and succulents at Sticky Situation nursery.

Got Weirdness?

The gardens cactomaniacs cultivate are hardly traditional. Their plants are not potted, but rather “staged”. They plant cactus among knobby rocks to approximate their natural habitats and the most discerning collectors apply a final top-dressing of micro-gravel collected from special anthills whose locations they keep secret. As a final flourish, wildflower seeds from the same range of the staged species are sprinkled over the gravel. Many cactus species are exceptionally slow-growing and long-lived—some so much so that they will be passed down to the next generation. They more closely resemble sculptures set on plinths than plants. I’m not even sure if what cactus growers do with their plants can be called gardening, but don’t care because it is so weirdly beautiful! I’ve decided that weirdness is a greatly undervalued quality in gardens. In my horticultural pursuits, I aspire to high weirdness.

A grouping of the aptly named Bishop’s Cap cactus in a mid-century modern Vessel Pottery container.

Prickly and Tasty

The ethno-botanical history of cactus is deliciously culinary. It is full of marvelously tasty but strangely packaged fruit absent from the produce aisles of the First World: hedgehog cactus fruits are encased in a web of spines that magically fall off when the fruit is ripe, revealing a strawberry-like nugget; the whortleberry, whose grape-sized fruit has the acid-sweet zing of a cranberry-blueberry cross; the organ pipe, whose golf-ball sized gems are said to be the tastiest of all cactus. The organ pipe’s fruit are eaten fresh, and turned into wine by the native Seri in a wild bacchanalia celebrating their New Year. The organ pipe fruit, which is full of tiny seeds, is so prized that the Seri historically enjoyed it twice—picking through their own feces to reclaim the nutty high-fat seeds in a “second harvest.” This is not a practice I recommend for the home gardener, but to each his own.

The fruit of the dinner plate prickly pear is delicious and mysterious.

Kings of Xeriscape

And then there are the practical reasons for growing cactus. Cactus are the undisputed grand champions of drought tolerance. If climate doomsday scenarios prove true, neither watering restrictions nor hotter temperatures should prevent gardeners from planting cactus. When climatologists speak of desertification, I think, more cactus! As a person who is occasionally forced to live a life outside my garden, to hit the road and sell some books, I find it comforting to know that my cactus collection will be stoically enduring whatever the Mother Nature dishes out in my absence.

They are the ideal antidote to fussy perennials that wilt in a warm breeze or trees insistent on dropping their leaves around the yard. Cactus, on the other hand, are nearly perfectly clean, dropping almost no annoying leaf litter on your patio. They also require less watering than any kind of plant that isn’t plastic. When I walk by my cactus, they seem to say, “By the way old chap, would you mind giving me a sprinkle of water when you think of it, it is bloody hot out here. No rush, don’t trouble yourself, just next time you have a watering can at the ready.” Yes, my prickly ones speak to me with British accents. In fact, my cactus sound like Keith Richards.

Manliness

To me, cactus are more masculine than any other plant group. Even those with stunning flowers (and there are many), avoid prissiness by arranging them in a snarl of thorns. The sort of frilliness associated with cottage gardens is nowhere to be seen in the cactus world. When garden clubs ask me to speak, they often say something like, “you can speak on any of your areas of expertise, but please, no cactus.” I usually sneak some cactus in anyway.

It is hard to get manlier than a Totem Pole cactus in front of a tangerine colored wall.

Beyond Ouch!

The pain factor is way overblown. With good gloves and a little technique, you hardly ever get poked. And when you do, it is just not a big deal. Take it from someone who is horrified by needles. In fact, the pain you share with your cactus may further endear you--a sort of horticultural Stockholm syndrome. You too may contract an STD in these intimate interactions with your plants, but the symptoms are largely manageable and not completely debilitating. Buy some long tweezers, a set of welding gloves (for the very prickliest species), and you are pretty well set. For small plants, regular gardening gloves work fine. You can also handle many species by their roots without gloves at all.

But I live in Zone 5?

Well, yes, you cannot grow as many species outdoors in the coldest parts of the country, but in a sunny windowsill, you can grow a host of potted cactus plants that you can bring onto the patio during the warm months. And if you want to grow cactus in the ground, there are a few hardy species to choose from. Consider the following: Potato cactus (Opuntia fragilis) is the most cold-hardy cactus and grows well into Canada. It is low growing, forming a mat of little round pads, blooms pink or yellow, and is hardy to Zone 1. Beehive cactus (Escobaria vivipera) grows from Mexico to southern Canada, and sports hot pink flowers and fruit with a strawberry-kiwi flavor. It is hardy to Zone 4b.

A Beehive cactus in all its pink glory near Denver, Colorado.

Obsession with spiny plants is not limited to the desert Southwest. Just ask the Oregon-based author of the Danger Garden blog, whose mantra is, “Nice plants are boring – my love is for plants that can hurt you.”

Okay!  We promised you some free stuff.  Any cactus-related comment will get you the possibility of winning Scott's book.  But wait, that's not all!  He'll send a purple fishnet prickly pear pad (or a more cold hardy species) to the reader who posts the most interesting cactus love tweet to his twitter account: @scottcalhoun.