Gardening Blog

Happy Canada Day, everyone. While economic times are still uncertain, those of us lucky enough to live in this country have much to celebrate tomorrow.

After I stepped down last January as editor-in-chief of Canadian Gardening, I promised myself a lazy gap year before I returned to the fray of the working world. So the second half of 2009 will be spent—doing whatever I feel like. This means less writing, more reading. Less talking, more listening. Less looking, more seeing. You get the picture. This entry will be the last one before my blog goes on hiatus.

But how can I leave you without showing a few more photos of my garden, and making an observation or two? The large image at the top of the page is a little corner filled with various pots. It looks a bit messy but there’s a reason for it. The winter brought with it a leaking roof underneath an old deck off my bedroom. This meant the deck needed to be demolished and the roof replaced, with everything that had been up there brought down. It was a big expense, so I did it in two stages. Stage one was the installation of a new flat roof last winter. Stage two was the building of a sturdy and handsome new deck a few days ago. Little by little, some of the myriad pots dotted around my garden will make their way up to my roof. But there will be far fewer than normal this year, and no veggies. Oh well, there’s always next year. Gardening is for optimists.

There are many things I’m enjoying about my garden right now (not the least of which is having some time to sit in it). Here in Toronto, it’s been a coolish and wettish early summer, and my garden has made huge amounts of lush, verdant growth. There’s very little weeding to do, because the plants are so densely packed together. So far, I’ve seen very little insect damage. There have been a few snails about, but the giant leaves of my ‘Frances Williams’ hostas are intact. Fingers crossed this may continue.

The plant shown here is my Chinese flowering dogwood (Cornus kousa chinensis), which is bursting with health and absolutely covered in starry white flowers. Divine. I heartily recommend this small tree for narrow urban Zone 6 gardens like mine, as it truly offers four seasons of beauty. Smooth, grey bark and graceful, compact form in winter, followed by attractive leaves and white flower-like bracts in late spring/early summer. These bracts (”flowers”) persist for many weeks, turning pinkish as they mature. Their berry-like centres go a brilliant red and are relished by squirrels and birds. And the leaves go a lovely burgundy fall colour as well. If the flowers were scented, it would be perfection.

Lastly, a word about containers. Don’t be afraid to combine shrubs, perennials, annuals, grasses and herbs to create the look you want. One of my favourite shrubs for this purpose is the ubiquitous purpleleaf sandcherry (Prunus x cistena), which is overused in the landscape but seldom seen in pots. Cheap as chips, open and spare in habit with showy burgundy leaves, it’s hardy (Zone 4) and easy to plant under because it’s not a space hog. (Whatever shrub you choose for a container, be sure it’s at least two zones more cold-hardy than where you live. Here in Zone 6, this means Zone 4.) Yes, the sandcherry overwinters outdoors in its pot.

And try growing some of your invasives in pots as well. Seen here is an old galvanized washtub (be sure to add drainage holes in the bottom with a drill) filled with various types of mint. I harvest the leaves to make fresh mint tea: take a generous handful of leaves and stems, rinse them, put them into a teapot and bruise well with a wooden spoon. Cover with boiling water and steep to taste. Pour into cups and float a few mint leaves on top for colour. Sweeten with honey, or not. This makes a lovely clear drink that’s delicate and refreshing. You can do the same thing with lemon verbena, which is another rambunctious plant.

Or use fresh mint leaves in mojitos or as part of the quintessentially British drink of summer: Pimm’s number 7. You can find recipes on the internet.

So that’s it from me for now. Cheers to you and happy gardening. And thanks for reading my blog.

A quick hello from Arizona, but no photo this time as I haven’t quite figured out how to upload them onto my little notebook. However, there will be plenty to show you when I do–the flora here is so interesting, and so new to me. I have bought a couple of books to help me identify some of the cacti and other plants I’ve come across on my travels, and I’ll share this information with you as well.

Yesterday, I spent most of the day at the Boyce Thompson Arboretum off highway 60 just west of Superior–I was enroute from Scottsdale to Globe–a little town in the copper mining district east of Phoenix in the Tonto National Forest, where I spent the night.  I’ll be posting a separate entry on this arboretum as it covered everything from sonoran desert to riparian landscape, and is well worth a visit if you’re out this way.

I’m off to look at Indian ruins and more canyons today. There’s breathtaking scenery all around me. And it feels so good to feel the warm sun and see the big, blue sky. So stay tuned and there’ll be more from me soon…

Once the site of the eponymous 1759 battle between the French and the British, the Plains of Abraham are transformed during Quebec City’s Winter Carnival into a centre of family-friendly activities. A widely sold $10 pass will let you in on all the action, both there and at other Carnival venues.

The bolder among you might want to have a go at snow rafting and zip-lining. Good luck with that. Timid Tillie that I am, I confess I was content to simply walk around and take in various displays, such as the international ice sculpture competition, and observe people having fun. Other attractions that might tempt you (though not necessarily me) include snow slides, demonstrations of dog agility, a sugar shack, sleigh rides and various competitions such as tugs-of-war, giant soccer and skijoring, which teams cross-country skiiers with dogs.

Later that afternoon, my new pal Mary (one of the journalists on our girlfriend getaway) and I walked down into town and tried poutine at a fast food place called Chez Ashton. This was my first taste of Quebec’s famous comfort dish—french fries with gravy and cheese curds—and it was delicious (the cheese curds were so fresh, they squeaked). Okay, I know it’s not exactly health food, but it is mighty satisfying on a cold winter’s day (the restaurant is also famous for its winter promotion based on the outdoor temperature. It was -19 degrees Celsius, so we saved 19 per cent).

The 55th edition of the Quebec Winter Carnival ends this Sunday. Yet another great experience to cross off my “100 things to do before you die” list. Joyeux carnaval!
Tomorrow: The ice hotel and a nordic spa

I don’t ski, I’m a lousy skater and truth be told, I hate winter. Not only because I love gardening, but also because I really, really, really hate feeling cold. But I loved my visit to the Quebec Winter Carnival as part of a Girlfriend Getaway courtesy of Quebec Tourism, and surprised myself by spending several days outdoors with great enjoyment.

Of course, I came prepared, and ventured forth swaddled in umpteen layers of clothes, thermal underwear, socks and gloves, really good warm boots and a sheepskin hat. In my book, this is basic winter equipment. Properly kitted out, I got completely caught up in the infectious spirit of the world’s biggest winter celebration.

One of the highlights was the dogsledding race, the Grand Viree. What could be more quintessentially Canadian? As a light snow fell, crowds lined the specially prepared course near the Chateau Frontenac and good-naturedly cheered on their favourite teams. Being used to Toronto’s mostly sombre, monochromatic winter coat uniform of black, brown or sludge, it did my eyes good to see so many colourful parkas and hats, and the smiling, red-cheeked faces of happy revellers.

Although the Grand Viree is over, you can still catch the qualifying rounds for the St.-Hubert Derby on February 14, and the finals on February 15. And the second festive night parade will wind its way through the streets on Valentine’s Day eve as well. Quebec City’s winter carnival continues through February 15 (to check out what’s on, visit www.carnaval.qc.ca).

Tomorrow: family fun on the Plains of Abraham.

There’s something very cheering about looking at a miniature palm tree against the background of deep snow in the garden. This little beauty sits on the table in my breakfast nook, snuggled into my vintage iron planter. It’s an elephant foot palm (Beaucarnea guatemalensis), and I picked it up at Ikea last fall for $11.99.

Judging by its name, my little palm is likely more used to the tropical climes of Central America. But it seems quite happy in its new, colder setting—I simply give it lots of admiration and a good, long drink of lukewarm water once a week in the sink, letting the water drain out of the bottom of its pot. I’ve placed moss around the top to add a finishing touch and help keep in moisture.

I have many indoor plants. And as I’m hoping to do a lot of travelling this winter, I’m slowly training them to get used to waiting longer between waterings. It’s working. In fact, many people overwater houseplants—literally killing them with kindness. Mine seem to respond to a certain amount of benign neglect.

And speaking of travelling and palmy days if not palms, I’m off this morning to Quebec City, courtesy of Quebec tourism, to experience the Quebec Winter Carnival and other delights both there and in the Eastern Townships near Montreal. Yippee! I’m as excited about it as a little kid. I’ve packed good thermal underwear and socks and, of course, my camera and notebook. Never fear, your trusty correspondent will reveal all on my next blog posts. Meanwhile, stay warm and keep smiling.

With winter at its height, many of us long for warm sunshine, turquoise seas and long drinks with colourful little umbrellas in them. Sadly, it’s not always possible to take off when you want to, though. So how about doing the next best thing and bringing a touch of the tropics to your home to chase away the winter blues? I’m talking about buying an orchid or two.

It used to be orchids were considered luxury plants, slightly mysterious and a bit daunting to grow. These days, all kinds of mom-and-pop corner stores and big-box behemoths carry them, so with a bit of luck, you can pick up a nice plant for under $20. And guess what? Many of them bloom for ages and ages and are an absolute cinch to take care of. Take the beauty shown here: it’s a Phalaenopsis cultivar I scooped up for $16.99. It’s already been blooming for several weeks, and shows no signs of slowing down. I trimmed down the edge of its clear plastic pot, plopped it into an old grassy-looking Ikea container and dressed it up with a bit of moss to hide the edges.

Here’s a tip: When you’re shopping for an orchid, try to find one with lots of buds and not just open flowers; also, look for a plant with several flowering stems and not just one. I rootled around until I spotted this shy little beauty toward the back of a welter of lesser-quality plants.

As for care, I give mine a good long drink of lukewarm water under the tap, being careful not to wet the base of the leaves or let water sit in between them (this promotes rot and, according to some people, may even retard future blooms). Once the water runs out of the bottom of the pot, I slip it back into its container.

I let the plant dry out a bit between waterings—though not completely dry—generally it gets watered every five days or so, but it all depends on the conditions of your home. My phalaenopsis thrives in indirect light on the stone peninsula in my kitchen, and I keep my house fairly cool. You can feed your orchid and do extra stuff if you want, but I’m pretty lazy. And by the way, I have several orchids that have rebloomed for me with no fuss on my part—I don’t trim down the stems after they finish flowering (except for any truly dead, dry, brown bits) and the new flowers have set on the old stems.

If you want to know more about different types of orchids—including fragrant types—and their care, check out my colleague Stephen Westcott-Gratton’s excellent article on this website at canadiangardening.com/plants/indoor-plants/growing-orchids-indoors/a/2474.

Winter is tough on gardeners, who itch to be outside, getting their hands into the soil. It’s still a bit early to start seeds, and houseplants and catalogues can only take you so far. Sigh.

But it’s a grand time to learn more about your passion, if you’re so inclined. When it’s cold and snowy, you can sit through a day of lectures with equanimity.

Last weekend, for example, I attended the Toronto Master Gardeners technical update, which was a day-long symposium dedicated to The Global Gardener: Gardening in a Changing Climate held at Toronto Botanical Garden. I trotted along to several seminars (on bio-intensive gardening and backyard greenhouses), hobnobbed with more than 200 fellow gardeners from around Ontario, ate a delicious lunch, then listened to a fact-filled and thought-provoking keynote address given by Natalie Iwanycki and Alex Henderson of Royal Botanical Gardens.

One of the things Natalie and Alex touched on was Plant Watch, a volunteer monitoring program designed to help identify changes that might be affecting our environment. The way it works is gardeners across the country help record flowering times for selected plant species in their area, in effect becoming citizen-scientists. The program is a joint venture between the Canadian Nature Federation and Environment Canada’s Ecological Monitoring and Assessment Network Coordinating Office (EMANCO). Check it out at www.plantwatch.ca—you can get your kids involved as well.

As the old year limped to a close, many looked ahead to 2009 with either trepidation or hope.

The scary global economy is something to give everyone pause, especially if you’ve lost 35 per cent or more of the value of your investments, as so many people have. However, we’ve all taken the hit in one way or another, so I guess it’s a level playing field of sorts.

You see, I definitely belong to the hopeful group; an incorrigible Pollyanna, the original cup-is-half-full kind of gal. And I’m looking forward to this year, which I know for me will be filled with new adventures. On January 22, I’m leaving my job as editor-in-chief of the magazine and striding forth into the great unknown.

But meanwhile, there’s the post-Christmas stuff to face. I need to start thinking about taking down the tree and putting away the colourful ornaments for another year. And after the reds and bright lights of the holidays, this is a time when I crave not more colour, but white. Perhaps it’s a symbol of purity for the as-yet blemish-free new year. I especially love to buy white amaryllises—I’m not quite ready for fragrant spring blooms, but the stately, scentless white blossoms of amaryllis feel just right—almost like trumpets to herald in the new year. There’s a little flower market not far from me that carries them for just $6.99; a real bargain, for just one plant brings pleasure for weeks.

I used to save my amaryllis bulbs and try to get them to reflower, but I had limited success with this (despite my cosseting, too many of them came up blind). So now, most of the time I enjoy them, then toss them into the compost. Happy New Year.

Last week, I wrote about a cheap and cheerful way to fill up containers for winter. In case you had trouble visualizing what these branches look like decorated for the holidays, here’s your answer. We had a fresh snowfall this morning here in Toronto and I went outside to do some shovelling before heading off for work. I took this photo at first light (I’m an early riser).

I spent maybe 15 minutes, tops, festooning the red dogwood branches with an old string of white lights (must replace these with LED lights, which I’ll buy in the post-holiday sales), some unbreakable ornaments and a few garlands of unbreakable red beads. Maybe it’s not the most elegant container in town, but I like it.

If you’re planning to shop for a fresh-cut Christmas tree, you can prolong the life of its needles by spraying the tree with an anti-dessicant spray (several brands are available at nurseries and garden centres) before bringing it indoors. Ditto for your wreaths and swags. What this spray does is help seal the needles to retard evaporation of moisture.

I no longer get a big, fresh-cut tree—partly because the most misshapen, woebegone, Charlie Brown tree on the lot was the one I’d invariably choose to buy. One year, the poor thing was so crooked and bare on one side, I literally had to wedge its stand under the baseboard to keep it from toppling over. It looked as though it was bowing to everyone who came into the room.

These days, my tree is a sculptural affair fashioned from brown twigs. Each year I haul it up from the furnace room, put it on a table and decorate it. But I do buy fresh-cut boughs and put them in a big pitcher for their lovely smell.

We’re due for more snow tomorrow. Maybe it’ll be a rare white Christmas after all.

Creating a winter container design can be a time-consuming and expensive undertaking. If you go the full monty with both broadleafed and evergreen boughs, magnolia leaves, eucalyptus, cones and assorted bits, bobs, bows and berries, you can very easily drop three figures on just a couple of pots. And if you have lots of pots, you might as well take out a mortgage.

So recently, after years of trying to outdo myself with increasingly elaborate container displays, I came up with an idea that’s simple, inexpensive and quick.

I now buy plenty of the prettiest, most colourful branches I can find (such as red, orange or yellowtwig dogwood, or perhaps really fresh, yellow-green curly willow). Then I push loads of these—but just one type per pot—into the soil of each container until a full and pleasing shape is created (do not skimp on the branches; cram them in). Next, for a more finished look, I top the soil with moss (a greengrocer near me sells huge boxes of the stuff for $15–plenty to do all my containers). If moss is unavailable, you could substitute leaves, straw, tiny pine cones or whatever mulch-like material comes to hand. The whole lot is then anchored with river stones, which I buy at Ikea for about $2 for a generously sized mesh bag (I figure on one bag per large pot).

And that’s it. Estimated cost per container? Well under $20 (and if you have shrub trimmings you can use, almost nothing).

During the holidays, I dress up the branches with a string of plain white lights and colour-coordinated ornaments. This year, to go with my red dogwood, I bought a large box of red ornaments from Ikea for around $5. They look like glass but are some sort of unbreakable stuff. These will be hung with good old gardener’s twine, which is both sturdy and attractive.

I’ve had a lot of compliments on these pots which, I’ve been told, look really festive and pretty. Best of all, after the holidays, removing the lights and ornaments is a snap. The pots keep their clean good looks all winter long and don’t look too Christmassy after the fact, either.

(Tip: if you haven’t put together your winter container yet and the soil in your pot has frozen, don’t do what my neighbour did and try to soften it up with a hair dryer. Best to lug it inside overnight, where it will defrost and be easy to work with the next day. Put it on a mat or some newspapers so it doesn’t make a mess.)