The Lazy Composter

I am an enthusiastic composter. I compost everything possible—all year—which, in Minnesota is no mean feat. I schlep my veggie leavings and spent bouquets to the compost pile when it’s 95 and when it’s 25 below. I compost egg shells and banana peels, things a lot of composters shy away from because they take a long time to decompose. I fret that I don’t have more space for composting because I see all the coffee grounds in shops and at work just going to the garbage when they could be going to someone’s garden. I keep my green to brown ratio about right most of the time by keeping a bag or two of leaves nearby.

But, I am also a lazy composter. I water when I can, which is easier in the winter because I can scoop snow in there. In the growing season, though, the hose doesn’t go all the way back there, so I try to haul a 5 gallon bucket out there once in a while, but I don't always remember to do it. And, I never, and I really do mean never, turn my compost pile.

People will tell you it’s super important to turn your compost because it gets all the microbes working and mixes your brown/green ratio and hastens decomposition, which is pretty much what compost is about. But, I’ve never done it. At the St Paul house, I had a great compost area and could get to the good stuff pretty easily by shoving the new stuff to one side and then to the other. But, here in the city, I have a black plastic bin with a lid on the top and a “door” at the bottom, which makes getting to the good stuff darned near impossible.

I’m telling you this because one of the things I plan to do on my summer vacation is turn the compost. I have to. I want the good stuff, and the only way I can get to it is take the new stuff out (on a tarp) until the good stuff appears. Then, I’ll shovel the good stuff into the wheelbarrow and haul it around the gardens. When it’s gone, I’ll put the new stuff back in and toss some leaves on top. In a couple more years, I’ll probably “rinse and repeat.” But, that’s a long way off.

Birds, Bees, and Butterflies

I was watering the other morning and noticed that all of my companions were Bs. There were bees on the lavender—not the 747 type bumblebees that look so heavy you wonder how they buzz about—but regular bees. I wish I knew more about bees and wasn’t allergic to their stings. I might try having a hive just to see what the honey would taste like from the flowers in and near my gardens. I imagine the lavender and anise hyssop would make a tasty treat. I try to keep the water at the ground so I don’t splatter them as they collect their pollen and nectar.

Tiny sparrows and chickadees had found perches on the tomato cages in the rose gardens and they were chirping loudly about something. It couldn’t have been about the feeders because they were full of seed. They don’t mind getting sprinkled with water, but the tomatoes do, so I resisted the temptation to turn their way with the water. I did fill the birdbaths, and some hopped from their perches to the water.

When I got to the Natives Garden, a Monarch butterfly was hovering by the Echinacea. It looked like it wanted to land, but didn’t. It fluttered, instead, to the Monarda where it did land—but only for a moment. I stopped watering to watch where it would go next, and it did go back to the Echinacea. The orange and black was striking against the pink. Eventually, it moved to another garden and I continued my watering—grateful for having had such delightful visitors.

Botanical Names and Common Names

“What’s that?” a neighbor asked the other day. “It’s a Lychnis Chalcedonia,” I answered, enthusiastically. She laughed and asked, “No, I mean, what’s its real name?!” I paused, thinking I had already told her the real name. She sensed my hesitation and asked, “What’s its street name?!” “Oh,” I said, “It’s a Maltese Cross.”

Even though I’m a language geek, I used to think that people who used botanical names for plants were snobs or show offs. After taking a botany class, however, I learned that botanical names provide a universal method of communication. I learned that common names vary from region to region, but botanical names are the same worldwide. An example is Aegopodium, which is called Snow on the Mountain, Bishop’s Weed, Gout Weed, and Ground Elder depending on the region you’re in. A guy told me Saturday he called Mondara “Firecracker flower” because they were blooming at the Fourth of July and they looked like exploding fireworks. Up to then, the only common name I’ve heard for Monarda is “bee balm.”

On the worldwide front, my aunt and I were “talking plants” last summer while I was visiting her in Norway, and she wanted to know if we had any Hortensia in the US. I didn’t recognize the name and asked if she could point it out to me. Turns out, the common name for Hydrangea in Norwegian is Hortensia.

So, if you stop by Auntie K’s Garden and ask what something is, I’ll likely use the botanical name for a plant rather than the or a common name.

Plant Coaches

I spent the day yesterday at the Shady Sisters Gardens. Earlier in the year, Linda invited me to come on Saturdays of their sale weekends to help them sell plants. In return, I’d get to take home a few plants for my day’s labor! Who could say no to that?!

I felt a little intimidated at first, because in addition to the plants I knew, there were just as many plants I was unfamiliar with—like the Japanese Butterbur plant, the root beer plant, and Angelica herb—not to mention hundreds of hosta varieties. But, the sisters are knowledgeable and helped me learn about the plants and how to talk about them. Now, I’m comfortable enough with all the plants to help people decide if the plant is right for their particular situation.

I enjoy my days at the sisters’ gardens. I’m learning and teaching—or coaching as one woman put it yesterday. “You’re plant coaches,” she told us. “You know, like ‘life coaches’, only for plants.” Gail and I both laughed, but the more I thought about it, I think “plant coach” is a really good description. We can tell people about a plant’s growth habit, light preferences, and moisture requirements, and they decide whether to take the plant home with them – even though their conditions might not be ideal for the plant.

We’ve got only one more sale left this summer – in August – which seems like an eternity from now. But, I’m sure there will be other opportunities for coaching (and for being coached) between now and then.

Summer Vacation Plans in Two Lists

I’m starting to plan my summer vacation, which starts the 2nd of July. Like most people, I typically spend my vacation traveling with my family or having family visit me. Once in a while, I travel alone to a favorite spot. This year, though, I’m going to do something I’ve never done before. I’m going to stay home—in the garden!

My plan is to get done the long list of things to plant, move, mulch, and weed. I also want to try to get in the stone steps from the sidewalk to the water spigot. And, if there are stones leftover, I’ll use them for a path between the Hosta hill and the Azalea garden.

I’ve started another list for my vacation, too – a list of gardens and garden centers to visit! I’m sure I haven’t been to Eloise Butler Wildflower Garden since I was in 3rd grade. I think the last time I visited the Conservatory at Como Park was 15 years ago – and it’s practically in my backyard. The Rose Gardens at Lake Harriet are also on the list – as is the neighboring Peace Garden. It was winter the last time I was at the Arboretum, and I love it in summer, so that’s on the list, too. And, a friend recommended Noerenberg Gardens in Wayzata – a garden I’ve never visited before.

Two more places I’ve never been are Ambergate Gardens (near the Arboretum) and Gertens, in Inver Grove Heights. I’ve been told for a long time they are “must sees.”

So. Vacation plans are shaping up. It feels like I’ve got a good mix of projects and field trips planned. If you’ve got a favorite garden or garden center I should visit, and it’s within an hour’s drive of the cities, post a comment and let me know.

Plant Rescue

Some people bring home strays. I bring home plants. I have a really difficult time passing by a plant that’s being discarded. If I see a plants on the sidewalk or side of the road or in the alley that have been discarded by a gardener who needed to thin things out, it’s Auntie K to the rescue. (Confession. I have passed by a few buckets of snow on the mountain.)

Last summer, my neighbor was committing what she called planticide. She thought she had WAY too many rudbeckia, so she was digging them up and leaving them on the sidewalk – to die. Luckily, I got there in time. I stuck them in pots with a little compost and gave them a little water. I used some of them in my garden and my friend, Dayna, found a home for the rest.

Betsy had 4 buckets of iris heading for the compost when I came for a visit last fall. I brought them home and wintered them over. Some didn’t even make it into the ground, but they all bloomed this year. Again, I kept a few, but when a neighbor admired them, I dug them up and gave her a few.

My friends know about my plant rescue habit and now sometimes even bring me things, including a rose (Rosa Magnifica) last fall that looked more dead than alive. I stuck it in a sunny spot and within a week, it was putting out new growth. Not everything makes it. I had a couple of pinks that looked okay for a week or so, and then bit the dust. But, most rescues do make it. And, I’ve gotten a lot of lovely additions to the garden through plant rescue, so, I don’t plan to stop anytime soon.

Garden Emergency Kit

In Minnesota, everyone knows what a Winter Emergency Car Kit is and most folks I know carry one starting about Thanksgiving time and put it away about Easter time. I got my first Winter Emergency Car Kit as a Christmas gift one year! Don’t laugh. My mom wanted to make sure I’d be prepared in case my jalopy didn’t make it from point A to point B.

The gift/kit contained jumper cables, a flashlight, an empty 3 lb coffee can with a roll of toilet paper inside, a Tupperware container containing a box of stick matches and some candles, an old enameled coffee cup and some camping dishes in case I needed to melt snow, a blanket, mittens, lock de-icer, and a small shovel to dig my car out of a snow bank, if needed.

During the gardening season, I load up the Explorer with what I call my Garden Emergency Kit! Sounds crazy, I know, but you never know when you’re going to be asked to help dig something out, snip something off, or help move something from point A to point B. My kit contains a shovel, a set of shears (a back up pair and not my expensive ones), a trowel, gloves, socks, sneakers, garden boots, and a couple bottles of water. I also keep a small tarp, a couple of those cardboard flats, and a short stack of pots – just in case.

Anybody else travel with a Garden Emergency Kit during the growing season? If so, what’s in your kit?