Pollenatrix

We get it

He's a gardener. A 103 year-old gardener, and of course we fellow gardeners can completely relate:

Widower Jim turns out in all weathers to tend a half-acre garden at his local New Inn pub in Stoke Abbott.

Jim, who still has a full driving licence, arrives on his Ferguson tractor carrying all his tools - including a chainsaw.

He refuses to charge more than £3 an hour and, when asked when he's going to retire he jokes: "When I get old."

Garden on two wheels

I did something today that I haven't done in a long time: I went to a garden centre. A BIG garden centre in Munich.

Gartencenter Seebauer - the "best garden centre in Germany" - has called to me ever since I moved here, but life without a car means two things: a 10km one-way trip to go shopping constitutes a major day outing, and the amount of stuff you can buy and bring home is limited to how much you can strap to the back, front, and sides of a bike with bungee cords. But it was worth the ride. Seebauer is a huge and well stocked centre under glass, well merchandised and planned with a good selection of plants, and it reminded me of the old Mandeville Garden Centre in Burnaby B.C. (which I gather is now called GardenWorks). Living in the heart of Munich, my botanical resources have been limited to a home improvement/hardware store nearby, a small plant store near the Viktualienmarkt, and the surprisingly well-stocked garden stores surrounding the graveyard that service the local custom of turning burial plots into miniature showpiece gardens. But none of these little stores have any interesting orchids or decent orchid supplies on offer, and Seebauer, I was sure, would be different.

I don't know what prompted me to go today. Maybe it's the fact that two of my windowshill orchids are blooming for me. Domestic orchids have an interesting reproductive system; they make flowers, the sight of which engages owner to go buy more plants. They're very clever, those orchids.

Anyway, wandering garden centres is always an emotional experience for a true addict, but I was surprised by the memories that surfaced today as I wandered the aisles. I thought with longing of my "grow room" back in Toronto, and the hundreds of orchids I left behind. My thoughts went back to some of the gardens I've planted, like my old house in Vancouver - or more specifically the garden I owned with the house that happened to be on it and that I lived in. And all the other gardens and things that I've planted and grown over the years that I've left behind along the way.

Ahhh, but then there's retail therapy. The store's large orchid section was unfortunately stocked mostly with phalaenopsis', but there were some interesting oncidiums, burragearas, and miltonias. I bought a big fat Burrageara Nelly Isler, a no-name oncidium with a nice white fringe on its purple black heart, a bunch of tulip bulbs ("Triumph Happy Generation") and some decent orchids supplies. It was a satisfying afternoon, but it left me a little homesick and sad.

However, the brisk 10km ride home with orchids popping off the sides of my bike did wonders for the mood. In fact it was so effective, I'm thinking of planting flowers in my my front bike basket and turning it into a little garden. It's my new strategy: A mobile garden on two wheels, so that wherever I go, it comes with me.

Horticultural funk

I have to admit that I'm really tired of winter. Sunshine and green growing things feel so much like a part of the past, I hardly even think about gardening lately. So I had a pleasant jolt out of my horticultural funk this morning when I saw this:

Beautiful Botany

It's snowing outside... but I remember summer now.

Viable seed

From the BBC:

Israeli researchers say they have succeeded in growing a date palm from a 2,000-year-old seed. The seed was one of several found during an excavation of the ancient mountain fortress of Masada.

Scientists working on the project believe it is the oldest seed ever germinated.

...The palm is from a variety that became extinct in the Middle Ages and was reputed to have powerful medicinal properties.

Seedy news

Seeds of Diversity is an organization dedicated to the saving and trading of heritage seeds among gardeners in Canada. Even though I live in Germany, I still enjoy their newsletter, and look forward to the day I can participate.

The latest newsletter contains some very interesting facts about the prevalence of heritage varieties in modern Canadian gardens.

During 2004 and early 2005, Seeds of Diversity indexed the contents of 41 Canadian mail-order garden seed catalogues. These included more than 75 species of fruits and vegetables, and over 3250 named cultivars. The complete list is available on our web site at http://www.seeds.ca/hpd/csci.php. Besides assisting gardeners to locate specific varieties ( our office receives hundreds of questions about this every year), this index has enormous importance in measuring the status of horticultural biodiversity in Canada...

Gardeners can get a lot of good vegetable varieties from Canadian seed companies. There are about five times more garden seed vendors in the U.S. than there are in Canada, but our domestic companies offer 55% of the varieties that are available in both countries combined. For instance, Canadian companies supply 626 varieties of tomatoes according to our current CSCI index. The Seed Savers Exchange in the U.S. lists 915 tomato varieties from all garden seed companies in Canada and the U.S. combined. More than two-thirds of all tomato varieties sold are available from Canadians!

The bad news is that most of the 3250+ varieties sold in Canada are extremely rare and in danger of dropping out of commerce completely. Only 5.3% of all varieties are available from more than five companies, out of the 41 that we have indexed.

Check out the results of their Canadian seed catalogue inventory here.

Be anything but "Municipal"

Uh oh... hold your trowels. The Brits have declared the hanging basket out of style, condemning them as the "white stilettos of the gardening world", "a bit naff", and (most damning of all) "municipal".

"...tastes have become more sophisticated with a move from head-level baskets to troughs and Italian-style pots at ground level - a trend triggered by baskets' tendency to deteriorate fast if neglected."

Who can keep up?

There is an easier way

Mike Bush from the Daniel Stowe Botanical Garden in North Carolina, U.S.A. wrote the other day, obviously sympathetic with my energetic battle to divide that beast of a Siberian Iris. He gave me some great advice:

...one of my pet gardening tips is that shovels are cutting tools, too – and must be regularly sharpened to be useful. Simply placing in a vice and working with a file on the ‘upper’ side of the shovel blade, will make your digging and dividing all the easier. If your soils are sandy, the digging tools (small shovels & trowels, too!) will sharpening more often.

Check out more of Mike's very helpful tips at the beautiful DSBG Website.

Run Away!

Spring is here! The other day Ursula (Mistress of the Garden) and I tackled the perennial beds. In particular, a huge plot of Siberian Iris needed to be divided. The plant was at least 20 years old, maybe 30, and it had probably never been done before. The plant was no longer flowering well, and the job couldn't be put off any longer.

We didn't know what we were getting into. We struggled and strained, jumping on shovels and pitchforks in an attempt to break through the iron mass of roots. An axe would have been a more appropriate tool. In the end, we managed to pull the beast out, and use a saw to hack it into manageable pieces. By the time we got the thing replanted with fresh compost, we were both aching, sweaty, and bone tired.

I've since read somewhere that Siberian Iris resent being moved. Never mind them, I'd say my feelings on the subject are a bit stronger.

So here's my advice to you, dear gardeners:

Siberian Iris = run very hard the other way.

Gardening memories

A lovely -- really lovely -- article about gardening from the CS Monitor:

Every spring, when the last patches of snow finally surrender to the sun and buds begin swelling with new life, I think about an unusual gift my two grandmothers passed along to their grandchildren. It was the gift of gardening - or, to put it less elegantly, the gift of dirt under our fingernails. In their separate ways, without realizing it, they imparted a love of flowers, quietly teaching us the wonders of seeds and bulbs, soil and water and light.

I got to thinking about who gave me this gift when I was a child: my Mom, who was and still is a wonderful gardener herself. I still remember when she helped me prepare and plant my first garden along the fence in the backyard. My dad would call me, "Mary Mary quite contrary", after the nursery rhyme, and every time I tended the little patch I'd stare hard at the plants and mutter under my breath, "grow! grow!" (note -- I still do that). Eventually, the packet of seeds miraculously grew into great big green plants with beautiful flowers.

Then one day, the new minister of the United Church moved into the house on the other side of the fence. They had a little boy, named David, and a huge black Lab, named Goliath. I came out to water my flowers, and to my horror found my dog Rags nose to nose in a squabble with Goliath through the fence. They were fiercely barking and growling, hackles up and pawing and clawing the ground like bulls in the ring. Earth flew. Flowers flew. I yelled and cried and pounded Rags on the head with the watering can, but it was too late: My little patch of flowers was flattened. I cried and cried as little David looked at me in disgust through the fence, wondering why I had interrupted the show and was making such a fuss over flowers. Rags turned and gave me a big apologetic doggy smile, his tongue flapping up and down against the side of his face as I continued to yell at him through my tears. I was livid. Goliath slinked away

Mom came out and surveyed the scene with dismay. It took a while to comfort me while she gently explained that no, the flowers couldn't be taped back together. In retrospect I think she was trying very hard not to smile.

That was my first garden.

Gardening for the birds

Saving the birds, one backyard at a time...

The UBC Botanical blog reports on the spectacular recovery of the bird population in Roath, Wales, thanks to the efforts of backyard gardners.