Garden Rant

Real People, Real Flowers: More 50-Mile Bouquet Fabulousness

Please welcome Debra Prinzing, author of The 50 Mile Bouquet, a documentary-style book that takes a fascinating and in-depth look at local, not global, flower-growing.  We're giving another copy away, but you're going to have to work for it--Debra asks you to post a photo of one of your own bouquets online and put a link to it in the comments. 

The idea for The 50 Mile Bouquet – chronicling the “slow flower” movement – originated in 2006. After corresponding with each other about the things we were each doing in our complementary spheres of garden writing and photography, Seattle photographer David Perry and I arranged a one-day road trip to the Skagit Valley in Washington State, to scout each other’s garden sources. One of the highlights was a visit to the amazing heirloom rose garden of David’s friend, Waverly Jaegel. That day we discovered (and continue to nurture) our mutual fascination with the stories of the floral industry's unsung heroes: the flower farmers.

This book was years in the works, first as a concept, then as a self-funded creative collaboration. Along the way, the two of us delighted in each new encounter with a passionate grower or inventive floral designer – all of them believers in the importance of locally-grown and seasonal ingredients as their form of creative expression.

Our winding 50 Mile Bouquet “road trip” has been one of discovery and unforgettable beauty. The 144-page book was designed by the talented James Forkner of Studio Bolo and published on April 1, 2012, by Paul Kelly of St. Lynn's Press.

I've been a journalist for nearly 30 years, first as a fashion writer; then a business writer; and finally, by 1997, when I turned to something much more personal: my love affair with the garden and good design.

Writers are sponges, and we are driven by an insatiable, need-to-know curiosity. In pursuit of our stories, we can't help but absorb knowledge about myriad topics, taught to us by generous subjects whose own passion is infectious. That's exactly what happened to me while gathering the narrative of local flowers from so many talented individuals.

So I would like to share 10 important lessons I learned from the flower farmers and floral designers featured in the pages of The 50 Mile Bouquet:

Another Terrific Botanical Read for $1.99

 

This just in:  as part of Algonquin's monthly round of $1.99 ebook deals, you can get Lucinda Fleeson's WAKING UP IN EDEN for $1.99 in any of a number of ebook formats.  This deal is only good through April 22--sorry, I'm late getting the word out about this one--but it's another great literary botanical read.  Fleeson quit her day job to move to Hawaii and work at the National Tropical Botanical Garden, where she discovered an imperiled native plant population.

So check that out--the link above will take you to any ebook retailer you like.  Remember that even if you don't have a Kindle, Nook, Sony ereader, etc., you can still read an ebook on your computer, laptop, tablet, or smartphone by using any of the apps that these retailers offer. 

The theme this month is travel, so until April 22 you can also load up on $1.99 books that will take you to Cuba, Venice, Paris, Argentina....

The 50-Mile Bouquet

Please welcome photographer David Perry who, along with author Debra Prinzing, has been at work on this book about sustainable cut flowers, The 50 Mile Bouquet, for--well.  A loooooong time.  Honestly, I can think of few authors who have been as committed to their subject as these two have been. They knew from the get-go that they just HAD to do this book and they started doing it, long before they had a publisher, a deadline, a contract--any of the usual sorts of things that get most of us motivated.

Anyway, it's a lovely book, and the two of them have really become part of this community of flower farmers who are into local, organic, fresh, seasonal--all the things we love about flowers.  In this guest post, David writes about his own crazy publication date experience, but I have a feeling that for these two, the pub date is only the beginning, not the end, of their journey through the world of home-grown, sustainable flowers.

Here, by the way, is a nice piece from David in Huffington Post, and here's Debra in the New York Times.

But now, here's David on his pub date adventures--and read on for a chance to win a copy of the book.

I like to goof around and tempt fate as much as the next guy, but I swear it was not my idea to have our book’s release date coincide with April Fool’s Day. Still, when those pesky, publishing world dice were rolled, when that auspicious pair of numbers, “four and one,” came up, it did seem to me that there might just be a silver lining shimmering there within the odd mystery of it, somehow.

When you think about it, Debra and I had been rolling the dice, gambling with our time and our own money, trying to get this emerging story told from the get go. For more than four years we stubbornly kept on, even when certain, ‘in-the-know’ gatekeepers who shall remain unnamed, kept telling us, over and over, that we were crazy. So really, why would either of us have started expecting ‘conventional’ or ‘normal’ at this stage of the game?

I decided to embrace it.

After delivering a signed, thank-you copy of The 50 Mile Bouquet to my dear friend, flower farmer, Jan Roozen at the Ballard Farmer’s Market (Jan is featured in the book on pages 52-53), I made my way to one of Seattle’s favorite landmarks, the Fremont Troll.

It’s important to understand that though the beloved Fremont Troll has been living boldly under the Aurora Bridge since Halloween of 1990, he lives within our hearts and our imaginations, as well. So who better, really, to call upon? Who better to entreat for help in celebrating the April Fools tie-in to our official book-release date?

I had been entertaining thoughts of trying one of those elaborate, good ju-ju incantations to get the troll’s attention, and had been going over the particular steps, again and again in my head. But as soon as I arrived and looked around, I abandoned that notion as just a little too ‘crazy’. Too many other eager supplicants who had made their own perilous pilgrimages from neighborhoods like Queen Anne and Ravenna, and White Center. And then there was that strange couple from Madrid who kept making out while she fondled the troll’s enormous nostril for the benefit of their friend’s camera. Add to all that the realization that I simply could not remember whether one is to properly swing the chicken clock-wise, or counter-clockwise over one’s head and you begin to understand why I decided it would be best to just sit quiet and wait for a sign.

Thankfully, I wasn’t the only poor soul who didn’t understand the finer points of karmic hen twirling, for in the hour that I stood there waiting, nary a chicken was to be seen hurtling about in euphoric circles, and this on April Fool’s Day, no less.

Still, there was a pair of teenage kids who arrived with two, camera-wielding mom-types in tow, and despite their lack of a proper chicken, I simply could not ignore just how much fun they all seemed to be having taking each other’s pictures with the troll and laughing. They immediately seemed like my kind of people. However, I was a little concerned that they might not see me as ‘their kind of people’, so I approached them slowly and cautiously, holding a flawless, new copy of The 50 Mile Bouquet at arm’s length in front of me, looking directly into their eyes and speaking in calm, reassuring tones while introducing myself by name.

“Hello...” I began, timidly, trying not to spook them.

To my great relief, they did not run away. Better yet, they did not even look afraid.

When I explained that I hoped they’d help me celebrate the auspicious, first day of April, which was also our new book’s birthday, by enacting, perchance, one small, slightly rewritten scene from that recently released, Hunger Games movie, with young, Sammy volunteering herself in tribute, then reading aloud selected passages from The 50 Mile Bouquet, including excerpts of the Floral Gospel According to Jan Roozen, which pronounces the abomination of putting daffodils in the same vase with tulips, unless there is a baggie involved. She would do all this, I explained, while she sat upon Joey’s back, as he knelt in front of the giant troll.

Well, duh, you didn’t have to explain it to these folks twice. They too could see, almost immediately, that we were all birds of a similar feather. The kids looked to the adults with eager nodding faces and puppy-dog eyes, and the mom and the auntie looked back at me and smiled. We apparently had a deal.

By now you may be wondering where I’m going with this.

Worms: A Love Affair

So several years ago, I wrote this book about worms.  There were no such books on worms at the time--in other words, there was no sort of narrative natural history that told the story of worms and earthworm science and the role that worms have played in ecology and agriculture and human civilization. 

So since I couldn't find that book, I wrote it myself.

That was 2004.  My publisher, Algonquin, being the wonderful publisher that it is, kept it in print all this time, and when the warehouse ran out of books a few months back, they decided to re-issue it with a cool new cover and a bit of updated information in the appendix. 

So here it is--the re-released Earth Moved, which you can win by posting any sort of earthworm-related comment.

There's something else, too:  Right around the time Algonquin was thinking about putting a new cover on the book, I heard from the people at Nature's Footprint, makers of a stacking worm bin called The Worm Factory.  They were fans of the book and wanted to include an excerpt in the manual they send out with their bins.

They also offered to give away some worm bins when the book re-launches.  And so we are gathered here today to give away not just a book, but also a bin, to some lucky winner.  Check out the bins here, and if you don't win one, they are giving GardenRant readers a 10% off coupon, so click through to get that, too.

I have had a stacking bin much like this one since I lived in Santa Cruz many years ago.  It's probably close to 15 years old and it's still in great shape.  Mine wasn't a Worm Factory, but I have one of those too, now, and it's actually a bit better for life on the porch, patio, or garage, because it's a bit more compact.  Also--made in the USA. Recycled materials.  Very nice.

So!  Comment to win.  Gen is also doing a giveaway over at NorthCoastGardening, so you can go over there and have another shot at it.   The winner will get a choice of black, terra cotta, or green, but you don't need to specify that in your comments--I'll get all that from you if you win.

Have fun!  Oh, and here's Gen and I talking about the benefits of a stacking bin vs. the old-school plastic tub. With guest appearances from my chickens.

 

Chicken Encyclopedia--We Have a Winner

Who could resist?  The Chicken Encyclopedia goes to Lisa Beckman for her totally charming chicken story.  Thanks for playing, everybody!

 

This isn't about our chickens but rather my neighbors who also raise meat goats. Just the other day she came home to frantic children because one of the mommy goats was in process of deliverying a kid and it was stuck. Unfortunately, it was stuck for so long that it took my neighbor gall 20 minutes of pulling to extract the little guy only to discover it had died. She went to the barn to get the shovel to bury the little guy and was detained for about 20 minutes, that when she returned the little baby goat was nowhere. She searched everywhere and noticed there were no chickens outside and in fact it was awful quiet. Looking in the chicken house she discovered the now alive baby goat snuggled in the chicken house, with her 10 plus chickens laying on it, near, beside it giving it warmth with their feathers fanned out over it, as if in a blanket. Happy to report "Mr Jack" the baby goat is alive, happy and doing well with his 10 chicken mothers since his own has abandoned him entirely.

Rose's Garden: A $1.99 eBook You Won't Want to Miss

I'm thrilled to see that Algonquin has chosen Carrie Brown's beautiful novel Rose's Garden for their second round of $1.99 ebook promotions. This is a gorgeous book about a man left to cope with his wife's garden after her death. It's a sweet and tender love story, and she really nails the garden stuff. 

It'll be $1.99 through March 25.  Get it anywhere ebooks are sold, and if you're not sure where that is, go here to get direct links.  You can read it on your ebook reader, your tablet, your smartphone, or your laptop or PC--most of these platforms offer various apps and free software to make all that possible.

There are some other good titles on the list this time--I've read Heather Lende's IF YOU LIVED HERE, I'D KNOW YOUR NAME, and Dan Kennedy's ROCK ON, both of which are great fun.

Have You Peed on Your Garden Lately?

Well, why not?

Our favorite garden professor, Jeff Gillman, tells you how. 

Well.  Not how.  I'm pretty sure you know how.  He'll tell you why, though!

These and other amazing bits of information can be found in his clever and highly useful new book Decoding Gardening Advice, written with his co-author Meleah Maynard. We love the book; go check it out, and enjoy Dr. Gillman's advice.

 

Home Depot to Stop Selling Books, and My Advice to Publishers

This just in from Publishers Weekly:  Home Depot has announced they will no longer sell books.  It may be that you never bought a book at Home Depot.  Last time I looked, they sold an array of how-to books on home improvement and gardening, some of which were fairly humdrum (Ortho books, that sort of thing) and some of which were the sorts of books that you and I know and love.

Clearly the books weren't selling well, which is why Home Depot decided to drop them. Or maybe they were selling just fine, but Home Depot had other ideas for that section. In the announcement they say that "the move is part of a wider strategy of 'front end transformation.'" 

Whatever.  It's over.  I don't know how much hand-wringing is going on at publishing houses, but if you're a publisher of garden books, here's my advice:  Help independent garden centers become better booksellers.

Borders is gone.  Home Depot is, as far as bookselling goes, also gone.  Many cities have no independent bookstore at all.  But there are over 3000 large independent garden centers in the United States, and with a little help, they could become much better booksellers. 

People who own garden centers are not necessarily book people.  They don't read Publishers Weekly.  They don't go to BEA. They've never heard of the ABA.  And they might not even read much. This is not a criticism.  It's just a fact that when I go to IGC, I meet a lot of people who own or work in garden centers who say, "I don't read much." So they might be happy to add more books to their gift shop, but they need some help.  What could publishers do?

• Help them make sure they're getting the best possible terms and working with the right kind of sales rep or distributor. Some garden centers just don't know where to get books, how to take advantage of special shipping terms, or how returns work. When should they discount books, and why?

• Help them understand, in very concrete terms, what kinds of books gardeners might enjoy reading.  I've seen many IGC owners pick up interesting, top-selling, well-written garden books and say, "Will this tell how to prune shrubs in zone 6?"  They might not understand that books can be more than instruction manuals.  I have actually had to explain to garden center owners who Michael Pollan is and how many copies of his books have sold in order to help them understand about literary garden writing, or reading nonfiction for entertainment rather than instruction.

• Just generally, help them figure out what books to order.  What's new, what's hot. Not just garden books but garden-themed cookbooks, nature books, children's books.

• Teach them basic bookselling stuff.  I'm talking shelf-talkers, nice displays, where to buy shelving and book stands, etc. (or how to make them, since many garden centers employ very handy people or are next to a hardware store)  Garden centers can be dusty, humid, or otherwise inhospitable to books and signage.  Customers and staff sometimes have dirty hands. Help them figure out how to deal with all that. 

• Help them teach the staff how to hand-sell books.  If someone comes in with a lot of questions about fruit trees, great.  Answer their questions, but show them some wonderful new book on fruit trees, too.

• Give them ideas for cross-merchandising with other things they sell like tools, seeds, birdhouses, etc.  I mean literally--send out an email in September suggesting exactly what could go on a fall book table about, say, the harvest season.

• Teach them about author events.  They might not know how to advertise an author event, how to introduce an author, how many books to order, where or how to do the signing--all of that could be brand new. Also, what about book clubs?  A book discussion group?

• Give them some benchmarks to go by.  How much can a successful bookstore sell, per square foot?  How quickly do bookstores turn their inventory?  These are things that a garden center might have no idea about.

Just my two cents.  Publishers are worried about independent bookstores closing, but if you're a publisher of garden books, you have 3000 potentially great bookstores out there--they just need some help.

What do you think?  Do you buy books at your garden center?  Would you, if they had a truly fantastic little book section and enthusiastic staff selling the books?

 

The Chicken Encyclopedia

If you keep chickens, you probably already have a book or two by Gail Damerow. She's the author of The Chicken Health Handbook, which is the What To Expect When You're Expecting of chicken-raising. It is incredibly detailed, sometimes terrifying, and yet it is the first book we bought and the one we consult first whenever we have a problem.

The new book is, as the name implies, an A-Z encyclopedia with lovely illustrations throughout. You get photographs when a photo is really what you need, and diagrams or drawings when that's more useful.  And just the right amount of how-to is sprinkled throughout.  For instance, as I was flipping past the entry for "spurs," I found an entire page devoted to "spur trimming," something I desperately need to know more about as my Golden Wyandotte, Abigail, has grown horrifying spurs that must embarrass her terribly and might even hurt.  Spur-trimming, it turns out, involves needle-nosed pliers, vegetable oil, a baked potato, and a Dremel cutting tool. 

I am not making this up. At moments like this I wonder if I am really cut out for the stewardship of chickens. At least now I know how to do it; whether I actually will do it is another question.

As a how-to book, an encyclopedia can be frustrating.  The breeds are not all grouped together; an entry on Asian Malay hens is right next to an entry on manure balls. Problem-solving can be a bit tricky too:  the entry for "slipped wing" is right there between "slip" and "smut" ("slip" being far dirtier than "smut," as it turns out), but if you had a chicken with a wing problem, you might miss the "slipped wing" entry--and it's not in the index under "wing." 

These are not complaints.  I'm just saying:  it's an encyclopedia, and the randomness of the alphabetical system is what makes encyclopedias weird and wonderful to read. If they organized the material by subject matter, it wouldn't be an encyclopedia. So adjust your expectations accordingly.

I was particularly happy to see the section on poisonous plants (which Damerow files under Toxic, not Wicked) and was surprised to see vetch and corncockle on the list, two plants I'd grown around the chickens before without ever thinking about it. See what we learn when we read the encyclopedia?

It's a cool book, and I'm especially impressed that they managed to do a full-color, nicely designed, big fat paperback and still keep it priced under $20.  I know that's not easy to pull off, and it's nice that Storey  made it affordable and accessible to any chicken owner.  Now, Storey, here's my only question:  where's the app?

You, too, can own a copy of The Chicken Encyclopedia!  Just tell us any sort of charming chicken story and we'll choose a winner next week.

A Way to Counter Forces Beyond Our Control

This week, The New York Times ran a piece suggesting that tensions in Iran and Syria may soon bring us $5 a gallon gasoline.  Nothing any of us can do about that.  

Frankly, over the last four years since the start of the Great Recession, it's hard not to feel helplessly blown around by the economy. Today's question, whether a restructuring of Greek bonds will set off credit default swaps, one of the great magnifiers of the subprime mortgage meltdown, is barely comprehensible.  But if you paid attention in 2008, well, it's hard not to worry that there will be some shocks attached that may reach even to the level of American households.  And let's not even talk about the housing market. 

If you are 20 and jobless, you can join Occupy Wall Street and change the world.  If you are 40 or 50 with a mortgage and a bunch of kids, probably not.  

But it is possible to opt out of a volatile economy just a little bit.  Instead of buying all those $5 gallons of gasoline, you can plant a vegetable garden and conserve gasoline by skipping a few trips to the supermarket every month. You'll also be rejecting all of those petroleum-rich fruits and vegetables you'd otherwise be buying in the Price Chopper, depressing the demand for oil just the tiniest bit and possibly convincing Big Ag to rethink. You'll be paying $2 or $3 for a package of seeds and harvesting bushels of food in return.  At a minimum, your vegetable garden will make you feel more self-sufficient.

That is, until you are blown around by that other great force no ordinary person controls: the weather. 

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!

 

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.

Curry Please

I really enjoyed my visit to Cornell Plantations this week, particularly the herb garden, which was still looking good after several hard frosts. Even in the relatively chilly November air, I was overpowered by scent as I passed one of the 17 theme beds.  This was clearly the "tussie mussie and nosegay" bed.

Particularly fragrant were the green santolina and the curry plant, Helichrysum italicum, which looks like lavender and smells like dinner--but isn't good to eat.

I remember, however, once buying a different herbaceous plant labelled as "curry plant" in a nursery that smelled similarly savory, but that had rounded little succulent leaves. I haven't identified that one yet.

And then there is the curry tree, Murraya koenigii, pictured above, which is native to India and actually is used in Indian cooking.  When I interviewed the great Indian cookbook writer Madhur Jaffrey, she was laughing at the lengths to which she'd gone--driving out to Jersey in order to meet the one not terribly professional guy offering it at the time--in order to obtain a curry tree to grow in a pot.  When we spoke it wasn't doing terribly well for her.  I remember her telling me about a few pathetic leaves hanging on. 

Maybe that's not an uncommmon experience, as this Atlantic blog post suggests.  Still, all risks involving dinner are worth taking, in my opinion.  I'm ordering a curry tree!  It can join my neglected potted rosemary, bay tree, and citrus trees that are dragged in and out of the house every year at some point.  I'll let you know how it goes.

Photo credit: Rantingsteve

Guide to Smithsonian Gardens

Tourists to D.C. typically see the Smithsonian museums, but how about the 28+ acres of maintained gardens around them?  Most would be surprised to learn there's that much hort action going on right there on the National Mall.  But straight from Smithsonian Books, the new Guide to Smithsonian Gardens by Carole Ottesen will, I hope, direct more visitors to these local treasures.  And locals like myself, possibly jaded by unlimited access (no entry fee, ever), will learn how little they really know about these gardens, and come to appreciate them more.

Thumb's Up

• Author Carole Otteson was wisely chosen.  She's an actual garden writer, one of the best.
• Otteson's thorough historical research shows, and great stories are revealed. 
• Like: The original legacy from Smithson in 1829 was 105 sacks of gold sovereigns "for the increase and diffusion of knowledge in the U.S." making him the BIll and Melinda Gates of his day. (Btw, the Gateses donated $50 million to SI just last year.) 
• Like: When Charles Dickens visited in 1842 he found NO gardens there, only "wasted ground with frowzy grass" - love that! 
• And one more:  To help preserve the American bison, a small herd of them could be seen grazing on the lawn of the Smithsonian castle.  They lived there until the National Zoo was established, providing more suitable quarters.
• I love reading about the Ripley Garden, my favorite (see Best Little Garden in Washington), which Otteson calls a "plant-lovers' delight".
• Ditto my second favorite, the butterfly habitat garden, which is little known except to people who work nearby - and local garden clubs.

Just Two Nits to Pick

• The book touts the "environmentally sensitive practices that horticulturists employ each and every day", claiming that "visitors are inspired by this," specifically the use of Integrated Pest Management and native plants.  Sounds good, but when it comes to roses, shouldn't good pest managment start with choosing plants that are pest-resistant?  So there's no NEED to spray with crappy products?  (Long-time readers may remember my rant on this subject.)
• Too bad an actual garden photographer wasn't hired for this project.  It shows.

Dirr's Encyclopedia of Trees and Shrubs

This book is being hailed as the "horticultural publishing event of the year" and that's probably no exaggeration. Professor Michael A. Dirr is THE MAN when it comes to woody plants.  And I agree with all the blurbs - that this 951-page Bible of woody plants is a "trove of beauty and substance", "a photographic tour-de-force", "the ultimate reference", "smart, opinionated, comprehensive, wonderful" - all true! 

So put this on your Christmas wish list - or any occasion that applies - because at $80*, you probably won't buy it for yourself but you'll love owning it, as I do. You'll spend hours poring over its 3,500 photos and the highly readable text, which is not just exhaustive but best of all, opinionated!

Some favorite bits

Dirr tells you the real deal, not marketing BS, like which plants are disappointments.  And he tells you where native plants are native to. (That shouldn't be a rarity but it sure is.)

This comment about Japanese privet: "Can be prunend into any shape and often is, to the limits of demented imaginations."  And about azaleas Dirr concedes that in flower they "wow" but rightly complains that afterwards, they "beg for attention," and suggests that other shrubs offer far more.  I'll say.  And even though I love old-fashioned weigelas, I don't mind Dirr calling them downright "ugly" because he's also grown to like some of the newer cultivars.

Dirr talked me into buying some Eastern redbuds and Abelias for my next garden, and has me lusting for a dozen more I'm hoping I'll have room for.

Surprisingly, this reference book contains little details that bring it down to human scale, like the photos of Dirr's gardens.  Even more affecting, Dirr writes in the introduction about moving with his beloved wife Bonnie to Chapel Hill to be near their daughter while she was undergoing medical treatment, and how they "found inner peace with each other and in the garden" after her death.  Here's a photo I snapped of the Dirrs in D.C. last year after his talk to the ASLA annual conference, where he was treated as quite the rock star.

I love that 3,700 species and cultivars are covered in the book, in Dirr's comprehensive way.  He even took all of the 3,500 photos. This is his life's work, and we all benefit from it.

Suggestions for the next edition

Oh, yeah, I AM going there, picking a few nits, and why not?  In the one conversation I had with Dr. Dirr I found him to be pretty darn friendly and open to questions, especially for someone so exalted in his field. So here goes.

• I'd love to see the listing for Japanese barberry include information about its invasiveness, and how to avoid that.  The issue is handled very helpfully for buddleias and other potential thugs, so more of that, please.
• This book covers not just trees and shrubs but vines, too - all woodies.  Maybe they deserve a mention in the title.
• Why no mention of the horrible performance of the grossly overused Leyland Cypress that's now so hated and being replaced en masse?  At least the ones still standing after our recent storms are being replaced.
• Dirr recommends giving oakleaf hydrangeas "some degree of shade" in the South but here in Maryland, any afternoon sun at ALL burns their leaves to an ugly crisp. I'm just saying.
• The common name for Actinidia arguta is listed as "bower actinidia," but what about "hardy kiwi"?

*Or $50 at Amazon.

Sleep, Creep, Leap

This is a longer version of the interview that ran on Kirkus' blog last week.  Head over there today to see the latest.

And guess what?  We're giving away not one, but TWO copies of Benjamin's book!  Just comment to win.

Sleep, Creep, Leap:  The First Three Years of a Nebraska Garden

By Benjamin Vogt

Benjamin Vogt is a poet, essayist, gardener, blogger, and longtime Friend of Rant.  His work has been nominated for Pushcart Prizes and has appeared in American Life in Poetry, ISLE, Orion, The Sun, and Verse Daily. He lives in Lincoln, Nebraska with his wife and a 2,000 foot native prairie garden.

His new book, Sleep, Creep, Leap, is a memoir of three years in his garden. Like everything else I’ve read of his, it’s beautifully and thoughtfully written. I’m pleased to see him apply his literary talents to the subject of gardening.  

I have this sense that you've been blogging about gardening for a long time--I remember you as one of the earliest consistent garden bloggers I was reading.  So how long has it been, and what keeps you engaged in blogging?

I started in the summer of 2007, just after I got married and we moved into our house. The blog was mainly a way for me to keep a record of the garden, and to write at least a few times a week. There are a ton of garden bloggers now, and I can’t even keep up with the ones I enjoy. But now that I have connected with others, well, that keeps me blogging—the community, the sharing of knowledge, the good stories, the complaining.

You've always struck me as someone who's a writer first.  You're a poet and a memoirist, you've won literary awards, your degrees are in creative writing, and you’ve taught at the university.  So how does gardening and the natural world become a subject for you?  Is it a kind of framework other, broader issues you want to write about?

Yeah, I’m a writer first. But I do write about the environment. This book is about my garden most directly, and another unpublished memoir is about gardening with my mother in Minnesota and learning about her family, and myself, along the way (with asides on the history of landscape design). A memoir I’m working on now deals with my family’s pioneer history in Oklahoma and the ecological issues of the Great Plains. I think working in the garden teaches me about how nature works in a more practical way than just writing about it—plus researching plants is a lot like researching a dissertation, twisted fun. Somewhere between the garden and the words I exist, which is a wonderful place to be.

What I Learned from The New American Landscape

Here's my latest for Kirkus Reviews.  Click here to read Amy's interview with Benjamin Vogt about his book Sleep, Creep, Leap.

Sustainable v. traditional front yards in Santa Monica, CA

I must have read every book ever published about “sustainable gardening” – surely there aren’t any more of them! – but still I was eager to read the latest on the subject from Timber Press because the contributors are the undisputed experts on their subjects, from soils and water conservation to native plants and permaculture.  Indeed the book’s subtitle, “Leading voices on the future of sustainable gardening,” is no idle boast.

So despite my imagined overexposure to this topic, I found plenty of interesting tidbits in The New American Landscape, including the following.

Pest and pesticide experts David Deardorff and Kathryn Wadsworth boldly state what’s so often said whispered about the horticultural advice given by universities – that it’s often tainted by the source of their funding - the chemical companies. 

Permaculture advocate Eric Toensmeier isn’t entirely happy with the Sustainable Sites Initiative requirements for LEED-like certification for landscapes because they give no credit for growing edibles.  He goes on to make an impressive case for food-growing even in the desert, showing off a Tucson garden that supplies 10-25 percent of the owner’s food using rainwater, greywater and runoff only. 

Doug Tallamy explains that insects are more important than seeds and berries for sustaining birds, writing that “Ninety-six percent of terrestrial birds in North America rear their young on insects….When they are reproducing, birds need the high-quality protein and energy-rich fat bodies produced by insects to succeed.”  (Tallamy also disproves two opposing myths about native plants, as I reported here earlier.)

Richard Darke defines “sustainable gardens” as “those that consume the fewest resources,” which makes so much sense I wonder why that definition isn’t universally accepted.  Then he jumps into the hottest topic in gardening with his take on invasive plants: “I am not comfortable with the term ‘invasive’… So-called invasive plants wouldn’t exist unless they were better adapted to current conditions than so-called native species.” Darke grows a mix of natives and nonnatives but declares that “None of the plants I grow require watering beyond initial establishment, fertilizing, or pesticides.”  He’s my kind of gardener.

 
Water-wise schoolyard in Portland, OR

Meadows expert John Greenlee, when describing the yearly cutting back required by meadows and natural lawns, recommends doing the job with a “groundcover mower or a weed eater with a blade.”  What the heck are they and where can I buy them?

Reliable predictions are that by 2013, 36 U.S. states will have chronic water shortages, so “waterwise gardening” isn’t just for the arid West anymore.  Tom Christopher reminds us that 30 percent of residential water use goes to the landscape, mostly to lawns that could and should be allowed to go dormant in the summer.  Dormancy isn’t a sign of impending death; it’s the state of “suspended animation” that keeps turfgrasses alive through weeks of summer weather.

Christopher also points out a gaping omission in the USDA’s growing zones – they reflect winter temperatures only and ignore amounts of rainfall.  “The USDA map classifies Naples, FL as identical with Victorville, CA, even though Naples receives 51.9 inches of precipitation annually while Victorville gets less than 7.” 

Christopher’s caveat about the use of mulch surprises me, though.  “In the short term, an organic mulch will reduce soil fertility because it will absorb nitrates (a major plant nutrient) from the soil as it decomposes.  For this reason, the application of such a mulch will probably increase your plants’ need for fertilization in the short term.”  Can that be true of all organic mulches, not just hard wood?  

About soil science and the details of permaculture, I found a lot here that was new to me but frankly, grasped close to none of it.  My bad, I’m sure. 

THE GIVE-AWAY
Just leave a comment and I'll choose one at random to win a copy.  Entries close tomorrow at midnight  Eastern time.

Being Anna Pavord

Here's the post that appeared on Kirkus last Thursday. Tune in here for Susan's thoughts on The New American Landscape.

There can be great pleasure in reading gardening advice that has little or no practical relevance for you. That’s why we cherish the British garden writers. From Christopher Lloyd’s tropicals and perennials to Graham Thomas’s roses to Anna Pavord’s tulips, these titles remain the backbone of the literary gardening library. The fact that only a tiny area in the Pacific Northwest comes even vaguely close to equaling British conditions matters not a whit. American gardening anglophilia continues unabated.

Why? It’s simple—the love of gardening seems so much more a part of the British national psyche than it is here. At least it looks that way to us. From the smallest allotment to the most formidably manicured estate, gardening is a widely beloved pastime as well as a refined art form in the UK.

Anna Pavord has been one of British gardening’s voices for well over forty years, as gardening correspondent for the Independent and author of such books as Foliage, The Flowering Year, The Tulip, Bulb, and The Naming of Names.  She remains most famous for The Tulip, which is one of the most thrilling botanical nonfiction titles available to date. Its subject (in part) is flower obsession, which explains its continuing popularity. A good gardener is almost invariably an obsessive gardener.

Pavord reveals more of her floral obsessions as well as some fascinating observations that have nothing to do with gardening in The Curious Gardener (Bloomsbury, 2010), which has 12 chapters, one for each month of the year. Each chapter contains 6 essays previously published in the Independent, with a list of tasks for that month at the end.

This is vicarious gardening at its most carefree. According to Pavord, in February I should be feeding herbaceous borders, winter-pruning wisteria, mulching between certain perennials and performing a host of other (mostly) unpleasant sounding tasks. That won’t be happening. I’ll be enjoying Pavord’s strictures by the fire, as my February garden rests under its billows of white.

Although the lists of tasks are interesting, the essays are the satisfying meat of the book. Sadly few newspapers in the U.S. even bother with garden correspondents now, much less anyone this good. Not since Henry Mitchell’s death anyway.  I would love to open my newspaper and read statements like:

“Only fools view their gardens in monetary terms, supposing that any amount spent on hard landscaping must automatically be grappled back into the asking price of their houses. The real point of a garden is to increase the value of our lives.”

Or

“There’s hope in daffodils. That’s a dangerously fragile commodity at the best of times, but now is the season to indulge it.”

As I read these observations, drawn from a garden 4,000 miles away, I am not taking notes or worrying that my results will never fulfill my expectations, no matter how hard I work and how much money I spend. I am recognizing another gardener and affirming—once again— gardening’s importance.

Cluck!

This ran last week on Kirkus; head over there to check out our latest bookish post.

 

Years ago, I very much wanted a piece of chicken art by S.V. Medaris, but I couldn’t afford it, so I bought a t-shirt instead. That t-shirt now has a hole in it, and some paint splattered on it, which is proof that I wore it endlessly. Sue (she goes by S.V., but her name is Sue) Medaris is an extraordinary painter and printmaker who has a way of capturing chickens in all their absurdity and charm.

So imagine my excitement when Cluck: From Jungle Fowl to City Chicks arrived and I found out that Medaris had illustrated it. Chickens have been her subject for so long that she was able to come up with art that depicts every aspect of chicken life—and chicken death. You’ll see prints and paintings that show a possum invading a coop, a rooster intimidating a hen, and a hen committing the ultimate taboo—which they will do sometimes—and eating her own egg. It’s not nearly as graphic as it sounds; it’s just bold and beautiful art depicting the real lives of real chickens.

So the art is reason enough to get the book.  But you’ll also get a lovely collection of personal essays that cover author Susan Troller’s own experiences with chickens, plus contributions from Jane Hamilton (yes, that Jane Hamilton) writing on the relationship between cats and chickens, and Michael Perry (yes, that Michael Perry, of Coop and Truck and Off Main Street and other literary gems I suggest you go investigate right this minute if you haven’t already) writing on how to hypnotize a chicken.  I have often read that you can hypnotize a chicken using Michael Perry’s method, but I’m afraid to try it myself. What if the chicken never wakes up?  It just seems like too much responsibility.  But you can try it, and Michael Perry will tell you how. 

The other contributor, Ben Logan, might be less familiar to you if you don’t live in Wisconsin, but he’s the author of The Land Remembers: The Story of a Farm and Its People and a number of other books, and he contributes two pieces on eggs.

 There are so many chicken books out this year—too many, maybe—but there are not nearly enough literary chicken books, and there are definitely not enough illustrated by S.V. Medaris. It’s going to take a little work to find this book—it’s published by a small press called Itchy Cat Press—but I suggest that, rather than order it online, you stop in at your local independent bookseller and see if they can get it for you. That’s how small books find their way in the world:  they come to the attention of small booksellers, usually because their customers ask about them, and pretty soon they’re putting them on their shelves and they’re selling all over the country.

Which brings me to the one quibble I have about this book.  At 10.5 inches tall and 8.5 inches wide, it’s sized like an elementary school workbook, not a charming work of literary and artistic merit. It doesn’t fit on standard bookstore shelves, and the combination of the size and the cover design make it look more like a self-published book. That’s a shame, but don’t let it stop you. Cluck is a worthwhile experience regardless of the packaging.

Whatever Felder Rushing's "Slow Gardening" is, I'm fer it!

Here's my latest for Kirkus Reviews. Click here to read Amy's review of the clicken book "Cluck".

Felder Rushing, despite his actual horticulture degree, radio show, books, and years on the speaking circuit, is also one of the few real characters in the gardening world.  He stands out from the crowd not just by his distinctive look and Mississippi accent but by ruffling feathers with statements like these:

• “You don’t have to have your soil tested.”
•  “Green side up, that’s the big deal.”
• Or on how to compost:   “1. Stop throwing that stuff away, and 2. Pile it up somewhere.  There are whole books written about composting”, the existence of which he clearly finds ridiculous.

Thus in Rushing’s new book Slow Gardening, a Non-Stress Philosophy for All  Senses and Seasons,  he recommends “forgetting the stinkin’ rules” and “being in tune with whatever rings your bell”.   And for pity’s sake, do it yourself rather than hiring someone to do it for you.  Slow gardening is the opposite of the instant make-overs we see on TV and in perfect magazine gardens (done by professionals).
 
But don’t go thinking slow gardening is the same as low-maintenance gardening, because to Rushing, topiary artists and dedicated hybridizers are practitioners of slow gardening - because they’re doing what they’re passionate about.  And guess who else he includes in the happy world of slow gardeners – “sharply focused lawn fanatics”.  Sorry, I just don’t buy that lawn perfectionists are passionate rule-breakers who engage all their senses, connect with nature, yada yada yada.  But Felder, it’s your philosophy; you get to define it.

(Pardon the lapse into first-name familiarity but now’s a good time to confess that as two Southern garden writers still holding onto their hippie ways, we’ve become pals.)

But I’ll forgive Felder’s curious inclusion of what I call Torojockeys in the slow club because he’s a big proponent of less lawn and the use of hand tools, and he even declares that “the perfect lawn has become a symbol of ridiculous excess.” And I’m happy to report that his lawn care advice is environmentally sound.  (Actually, his advice about everything is environmentally sound – just not necessarily politically correct.)

Don’t go thinking slow gardening is all organic, either, because true to his laid-back nature and his horticultural degree, Felder’s no purist on any topic.  (He’s often heard recommending the controversial herbicide Roundup.)

Wish we were all slow gardeners
But for the most part, it would be hard for anyone to get their knickers in a bunch (as he’d put it) over Felder’s sensible approach, exemplified in his advice on dealing with pests:  Though some pesticides are safe,  why not just tolerate the pest or, if you can’t, grow something else?  “Try looking at the plant from 10 feet away.  Take off your glasses, stop obsessing, and a lot of garden headaches disappear.”  Works for me!

I’ve decided to adopt Felder’s laid-back attitude toward the few details in his book that I take issue with - the practices I advise against and the inclusion of some questionable types in his Big Ole Tent.  Hey, maybe those Torojockeys will read this book and stop being such resource-wasting tightasses! 

In fact, I wish everyone would read this book and adopt a more Felderian attitude.  They’d enjoy their gardens more, be kinder to the environment, and be less contentious toward their fellow gardeners, for sure.

WIN A COPY

Enter to win by leaving a comment telling us if you think you're a slow gardener, a fast one, or something else altogether.  (Felder's clecklist of slow gardening practicers may help you decide.) I'll pick one at random, though, so don't worry about being the cleverest commenter on the block.  Entries close tomorrow night at midnight Eastern time.