Gardening – Page 8

FEARLESS PRUNING

March 7, 2021/0 Comments/in Gardening/by Lee Reich

FEARLESS PRUNING WORKSHOP/WEBINAR

A workshop/webinar to take the mystery out of pruning, so that lilac and rose bushes, apple trees, blueberry shrubs — all trees and shrubs, in fact — can be pruned to look their best and be in vibrant health. Fearlessly.

Asian pear espalier flowering Topics will include:
•Why prune?
•Tools for pruning.
•How plants respond to various kinds and timing of pruning.
•Details for pruning flowering shrubs, trees, evergreens, and fruit plants.
•And a fun finale on creating an easy fruiting espalier. (Don’t know what espalier is? You’ll learn it at the webinar.)

And, of course, there will be time for your questions.

Date: March 29, 2021
Time: 7-8:30 pm EST
Cost: $35

Registration Link
https://us02web.zoom.us/webinar/register/WN_RfkO-_nJT8S-LximcfG24Q

After registering, you will receive a confirmation email containing information about joining the webinar.

HOW ABOUT THOSE OLD SEED PACKETS?

March 3, 2021/7 Comments/in Gardening/by Lee Reich

It’s wasted effort to sprinkle dead seeds into furrows either in the garden or seed flats. Seeds are living, albeit dormant, embryonic plants which do not live forever.
Sprouting bean seeds
When you buy a packet of seeds, you’re assured of their viability. Government standards set the minimum percentage of seeds that must germinate for each type of seed. The packing date and the germination percentage often are stamped on the packet. (The germination percentage must be indicated only if it is below standard.) I write the year on any seed packets on which the date is not stamped.

Your old, dog-eared seed packets may or may not be worth using this season. It depends on where the packets were kept and the types of seeds they contain. Last year I got tired of trying to decide how well my seeds were stored and which were still worth sowing; I took action.

Anti-Aging Treatments

Conditions that slow biological and chemical reactions also slow aging of seeds, i.e. low temperature, low humidity, and low oxygen. In years past, I’ve stored seeds in canning jars in my freezer, then moved the jars to the refrigerator as the freezer filled in fall. Powdered milk sprinkled into the bottom of the jars maintained low humidity. (Or so I assumed.) But all those jars took up lots of space, especially as my seed collections grew, and seed packets don’t pack well into canning jars.

As far as low oxygen storage, it’s not practical for most of us. I did try, one year, to create low oxygen seed storage by reversing gaskets and putting a one way valve on a bicycle pump. Bicycle vacuum pump This allowed me to draw some of the air out of the jars with a tube connecting the pump to a ‘FoodSaver Wide-Mouth Jar Sealer.’ It did (usually) create somewhat of a vacuum but it was too much trouble to get at the seeds and re-seal a jar each time. And, again, seed packets don’t pack well into canning jars.

So last year I came up with a figurative “better mousetrap.” After much searching for a plastic, freezer-safe, air-tight, leak-proof, reasonably-sized tub for the bulk of my seeds — a stout order, all this — I came upon the ‘Komax Biokips 35-Cup Large Food Storage Container.’ Perfect!

I measured, cut, and hot-glued a piece of 1/4-inch plywood to run up the center of the tub to allow for two rows of seed packet. A couple of 100 gram silica gel packets in the tub at the end of each row keeps humidity low. The packets are easily rejuvenated in a warm oven for 20 minutes. I just measured the humidity in the tub (I like to measure); it’s a dry 17%.
Seed storage, in tub
Moving the tub into the relative coolness of my basement in summer should maintain conditions in line with the guideline for seed storage that Fahrenheit temperature plus relative humidity should total less than 100. Come cooler weather in fall and then cold weather in winter, back the the tub goes to a shelf in my unheated workshop.

Worth Saving?

Seeds differ in how long they remain viable. Even with the best storage conditions, it’s not worth the risk to sow parsnip or salsify seeds after they are more than one year old. Two years of sowings can be expected from packets of carrot, onion, and sweet corn seed; three years from peas and beans, peppers, radishes, and beets; and four or five years from cabbage, broccoli, brussels sprouts, cucumbers, melons, and lettuce.

Among flower seeds, the shortest-lived are delphiniums, aster, candytuft, and phlox. Packets of alyssum, Shasta daisy, calendula, sweet peas, poppies, and marigold can be re-used for five or ten years before their seeds get too old.

In a frugal mood, I might do a germination test to definitively measure whether an old seed packet is worth saving. Counting out at least 20 seeds from each packet to be tested, I spread the seeds between two moist paper towels on a plate. Inverting another plate over the first plate seals in moisture and then the whole setup goes where the temperature is warm, around 75 degrees. After one to two weeks, I peel apart the paper towels and count the number of seeds with little white root “tails”.
Seed germination test
I figure the percentage, and if it’s low, the seed packet gets tossed into the compost pile (not given away!). Or, I might use the seed and adjust my sowing rate accordingly.

And the Record Is . . .

Among the shortest-lived seeds are those of alpine plants; their viability might plummet after only a couple of weeks.

As far as longest-lived seeds, there’s the story of the 10,000 year old lupine seed that germinated after being taken out of a lemming burrow in the Yukon permafrost. Alas, it’s only a story, one debunked by radiocarbon dating.

The true record for seed longevity was, until recently, 2,000 years, and was held by a date palm grown from seed recovered from an ancient fortress in Israel.

No one knows exactly what happens within a seed to make it lose its viability. Besides lack of germination, old seeds undergo a slight change of color, lose their lustre, and show decreased resistance to fungal infections. There’s more leakage of substances from dead seeds than from young, fresh seeds, so perhaps aging influences the integrity of the cell membranes. Or, since old seeds are less metabolically active than young seeds, the old seeds leak metabolites that they cannot use.

(The above was adapted from my book The Ever Curious Gardener: Using a Little Natural Science for a Much Better Garden available from the usual sources and, signed, from me.)

WEED-LESSNESS FOR 2021

February 20, 2021/0 Comments/in Gardening/by Lee Reich

WEEDLESS GARDENING WORKSHOP/WEBINAR
with Lee Reich, PhD, writer, scientist, and farmdener*

Introducing a novel way of caring for the soil, a 4-part system that minimizes weed problems and maintains healthy plants and soil. Learn how to apply this system to establish new plantings as well as to maintain existing plantings. The principles and practices are rooted in the latest agricultural research and are also applicable to sustainable, small farm systems.

This system works because it emulates, rather than fights, Mother Nature who, as C. D. Warner wrote (My Summer in the Garden, 1887), “is at it early and late, and all night; never tiring, nor showing the least sign of exhaustion.”

Date: February 22, 2021
Time: 7-8:30 pm EST
Cost: $35

After registering, you will receive a confirmation email containing information about joining the webinar.

*A farmdener is more than a gardener and less than a farmer.

THANKS

February 17, 2021/11 Comments/in Fruit, Gardening/by Lee Reich

I’d like to highlight, today, what makes this blog possible.

First of all, it’s you, readers. The positive feedback I get is very rewarding. I’ve had great opportunities — academically and “in the field” — to learn about growing plants and caring for the soil, and have put all this into practice for decades. My hope is that in entertaining you with all this, your tomatoes, apples, zinnias, and all the rest grow healthier and tastier or prettier. I appreciate the positive (even the sometimes negative) comments from you all.

Second, if you’ll look at the bottom right corner of my blog posts (or scroll way down near the end on a mobile device), you’ll see some banner ads. Nothing flashy or moving or obnoxious in any other way. Just simple links to a few advertisers.

These seven advertisers are special; these are companies whose products I stand behind. I’ve used them and can attest to their quality.

Fruit Plants Galore

Uncommon Fruits of Fall

Uncommon fruits of summer

Take, for instance, Raintree Nursery and Cummins Nursery. I’m a “fruit nut” (and a “nut nut”) and, except when I propagate my own plants, these two nurseries are my go-to nurseries for fruiting trees and shrubs.

Raintree Nursery stands out for the wide variety of common and uncommon fruits they offer, everything from apples to jujubes to musk strawberries to wintergreen to hardy passionfruits. All top quality plants.

Heirloom apples

Cummins Nursery also offers top quality plants, trees in this case. Steve Cummins, the present owner, started the nursery with his dad, Jim, and other family members. Back in the 20th century, when I worked in research for Cornell University, Dr. Jim Cummins also worked there. For many years, he was the rootstock breeder. (A rootstock, on which a Honeycrisp, Mutsu, or other variety of fruit is grafted in order to propagate it, can impart special qualities to the resultant tree, such as early production, eventual tree size, pest resistance, and tolerance to poor soil conditions.)

So I turn to Cummins Nursery if I’m interested in a common (vs. uncommon) fruit tree on a special rootstock, with many, many varieties of fruit to pick from. Or if I want to purchase a rootstock to graft myself. Or if I want a scion of any one of the many, many different varieties of fruits grown at Indian Creek Farm, the pick-your-own farm they run adjacent to the nursery.

You’ll note that Raintree Nursery is in Washington state and Cummins Nursery is in New York state. No matter. These nurseries are selling named varieties of fruit plants. A McIntosh apple grown in Washington state is genetically identical to that variety grown in New York state, so will have the same cold-hardiness, pest resistance, and other characteristics. Of course, a particular season’s weather, wherever the tree is planted, could influence flavor and texture.

Essential, Quality Tools

If you grow fruit plants — or vegetables or ornamentals or houseplants — you’re going to need certain tools. Glance down, then, to my next three advertisers: OESCO (“Oesco” is the acronym for “orchard equipment supply company)”, ARS (the exclusive agent for ARS pruning tools), and Scythe Supply Co.

Whether it’s pole pruners, pruning saws, or most other pruning tools, ARS are among my favorites, and especially for hand shears. The ARS website shows the complete line of ARS tools, as well as where you can purchase them.
ARS web page
One place for many of those pruning tools, ARS or otherwise, is OESCO. And much more. Trowels, all sorts of shovels, hedgers, sharpeners, grafting knives and sealants, stuff for making trellises, and, of course, many kinds of hand pruning shears.
OESCO web page
Scythe Supply Co is where I purchase all my scythe blades, sharpening stones, peening tools, and, originally, my snath and grips (I’ve since made these last two parts myself, when needed). You might think a scythe to be an archaic tools. Not so; it works even early mornings without waking the neighbors and in ground too wet or grass too high for a mower. Swinging a scythe is a meditative, first-class exercise.
Scythe Supply Co, webpage
My property was originally a mere 3/4 of an acre. Besides my home, vegetable garden, and fruit trees, I was able to dedicate a portion of that property to a mini-hay field, where I let the grass grow high and then periodically scythed it as food for my compost pile. It was decorative and functional. (Okay I did encroach on the actual hayfield bordering my 3/4 of an acre; I eventually bought it and now have a bona fide hayfield, portions of which I scythe.)

Two More Essentials

You might wonder, “What’s with Bobbex and Sensorpush?”, the last two ads on these blog pages?”

Bobbex webpage

In the past couple of winters as Daisy and, especially Sammy, matured beyond their super energetic puppy stages,

deer have taken note and become bolder. My initial testing of Bobbex, a deer repellent, seemed promising. I’ve since become amazed at its effectiveness. Deer are here, but not feeding on any of my sprayed plants. And spraying is only needed once a month.

I’ve waxed enthusiastic about Sensorpush many times here on this blog. Basically, it’s a one inch square by 1/2 inch device that you place wherever you want to know the current and historical temperature, relative humidity, barometric pressure, dewpoint, and vapor pressure deficit. There’s one in my greenhouse, and it can alert me if the temperature goes above or below whatever temperature specified. The one on my garden gate is especially useful in spring and fall, when frosts threaten. As soon as the snow melts, my third Sensorpush will go beneath the pile of leaves protecting a fig tree I planted outdoors to monitor winter temperatures there. (Much more about this at a later date.)

So there you have it: seven companies whose products, in my opinion, make for better gardening or farming.

Get Ready for Spring

Are you interested in having a weedless garden this season? Learn how, at my upcoming WEEDLESS GARDENING webinar. The system I’ll talk about also makes more efficient use of water, conserves valuable soil organic matter, allows earlier planting in spring, and doesn’t disrupt beneficial fungi and other friendly soil organisms. Starting a new garden? Here’s the fastest way to get the soil prepared and plants growing.

I’ll cover all this, and more, in the webinar, and allow plenty of time for questions. The webinar costs $35 and runs from 7-8:30 pm on Monday, February 22, 2021.

Space is limited so registration is necess ary.Register at https://us02web.zoom.us/webinar/register/WN_WqSCBtOGTqqjGgbOHOuxfg.
Garden view

TELLING SNOW

February 10, 2021/20 Comments/in Gardening, Pests, Pruning/by Lee Reich

I Grow Taller

“Make hay while the sun shines” is fine advice in its season. For winter, how about? “Prune while the snow is high and firm.”

My apple and pear trees are semi-dwarf, presently ranging from seven to eleven feet tall. Even though I have a pole pruner and various long-reach pruning tools, I still carry my three-legged orchard ladder out to the trees with me to work on their upper branches. Sometimes you have to get your eyes and arms and hands right up near where you’re actually cutting.
Pruning on snow
A few years ago, as I was looking out the window and admiring the foot or of snow on the ground, I realized that all that snow could give me a literal leg up on pruning. If I stayed on top of the snow, that is. While the snow was still soft, I was able to do this by strapping on a pair of snowshoes, which I bought, used, just for this purpose. (For travel through snow, I prefer to glide, on skis.) When the snow melted a little and then froze, the icy crust that formed was able to support my weight sans snowshoes.

In any case, when there’s a good depth on the ground, such as today, I gather my tools – minus the stepladder – and walk tall out to the trees.

Top Down Pruning

Plants, like other creatures, have hormones, and a hormone (called auxin) in every plant generally coaxes uppermost portions to grow most vigorously. Which is why old apple trees become topheavy, with most shoot growth high up. The upshot of this habit is that most fruit is borne high in the branches, out of reach, and lower branches are shaded to become unproductive and prone to disease.

Ideally, then, the best place to start pruning is with the most vigorous branches, highest in the tree. That’s also the last place you want to start if you’re standing at ground level. Perched atop a good depth of snow next to my smaller trees, starting near the top was much easier.

If I get high enough (in the tree), I can imagine that I’m hovering above the branches, looking at them from the perspective of ol’ Sol, which is a good perspective for a grower of fruit trees. This allows a more objective perspective on which branches are going to be blocking light or otherwise cramping others for space.
Pruning in snow
Letting more light and air in among the branches and, at the same time removing potential fruits with pruned branches, channels more of each tree’s energy into perfecting those fruits that remain. Remaining fruits are then healthier, larger, and more flavorful, especially for naturally larger fruits such as apples, pears, and peaches

Snow Tales

The snow is a blank canvas that records some winter activities. My dogs’ footprints are obvious and telling. They are provincial in their travels, having beaten paths from their doghouses, where they sleep, to the driveway, where they greet humanity, and to the deck, where they lie in the sun.

Daisy and Sammy at work

Less frequent are their forays out into the hay field to do their business and to see if anything interesting is creeping around out there.

The small, padded footprints of my cat hasn’t beaten out paths. The cat more randomly explores out-of-the-way nooks and crannies. She also likes to steer clear of the dogs, who consider her just another small animal worth chasing.

Gracie at work

The distinctive footprints that I’m keeping the closest eye out for are those of rabbits and deer. Now, about when I typically delude myself that all danger has past, periods of warmer weather start coaxing rabbits to wander about and eye my trees and shrubs as food. Now is also when cottontail rabbits start reproducing, the first of up to five litters for this year, with a half dozen or so bunnies per litter! Very cute, but deadly to my plants.

This winter, a couple of deep snows either brought deer here or displayed their abundance with tracks in the snow. For the rabbits, who feed on young trees and low branches, I sometimes make up a spray of white latex paint, water, eggs, cinnamon, and hot pepper. That needs to be re-applied about now. Traps I set out for them are thoroughly and safely (for the rabbits) buried in snow. Perhaps I’ll dig them out and re-set them.

The uncluttered expanse of snow makes it easy to see where I put my pruning tools as I prune the apples and pears. The snow also makes it easy to see where I drop the prunings.

Deer tracks in the snow

And why do I care where I drop my prunings? Because I can then quickly look at them to see if any bark has been gnawed off those freshly cut branches. And what would gnaw bark off those freshly cut branches. Rabbits!

No sign of rabbits – yet, at least – on those prunings as well as on tracks in the snow. Thank you Gracie (my cat).

The dogs’ are supposed to be keeping deer at bay, but do so only if they are out and about when deer are around. This year I’ve been relying on Bobbex repellent, which I spray monthly on branches that would be within reach of the deer. So far, the sprays have been 100% effective even on trees with deer tracks right beside them in the snow.

Get Ready for Spring

I will be hosting a WEEDLESS GARDENING webinar on Monday, February 22nd for $35. It will run from 7-8:30 pm EST and there will be plenty of opportunity to ask questions. For details, go to www.leereich.com/workshops. Or trust me, and go right to registration (required) at https://us02web.zoom.us/webinar/register/WN_WqSCBtOGTqqjGgbOHOuxfg

GET YOUR DUCKS IN ORDER FOR SPRING

February 2, 2021/2 Comments/in Gardening/by Lee Reich

WEEDLESS GARDENING WORKSHOP/WEBINAR
Presentation by Lee Reich (MS, PhD, researcher in soil and plants for the USDA and Cornell University, decade-long composter, and farmdener*)

Introducing a novel way of caring for the soil, a 4-part system that minimizes weed problems and maintains healthy plants and soil. Learn how to apply this system to establish new plantings as well as to maintain existing plantings. The principles and practices are rooted in the latest agricultural research and are also applicable to sustainable, small farm systems.

Success comes from emulating rather than fighting Mother Nature who, as C. D. Warner wrote (My Summer in the Garden, 1887), “is at it early and late, and all night; never tiring, nor showing the least sign of exhaustion.”

Space for this workshop/webinar is limited so registration is necessary. Sign up soon to assure yourself a space.

Date: February 22, 2021
Time: 7-8:30 pm EST
Cost: $35

After registering, you will receive a confirmation email containing information about joining the webinar.

*A farmdener is more than a gardener and less than a farmer.

MYCO-WHAT?

January 21, 2021/21 Comments/in Gardening, Soil/by Lee Reich

It’s Greek To Me (and You)

This far north, there’s only a little to do garden-wise this time of year, so let’s sit back and ponder the wonders of plant life. Mycorrhiza, to be specific. Wait! Don’t stop reading! Sure, the word “mycorrhiza” appears intimidating. But mycorrhiza are important in your garden, in the forest, to your trees and shrubs, maybe even to your houseplants.

First, the pronunciation. Say: my-ko-RY-za. It sounds nicer than it looks.

Now let’s take the word apart to see what it means. “Myco” comes from the Greek word meaning “fungus” and “rhiza” from the word meaning “root.” Mycorrhiza, then, is a “fungus-root,” an association between a plant root and a fungus so intimate that the pair has been given a name as if it was a single organism.

Mycorrhizal blueberry root

Win-Win

The association is symbiotic, beneficial to both parties. One end of the fungus infects a plant root, while the rest of the long, threadlike body of the fungus ramifies through the soil. Nutrients are absorbed from the soil by those fine fungal threads and pumped back to the plant. The result: mycorrhizal plants can draw nutrients and water from a greater volume of soil than can non-mycorrhizal plants, and plant nutrition is improved. To cite one practical demonstration of this benefit, agricultural scientists in California found that the presence of mycorrhiza was equivalent to the addition of more than one hundred pounds of phosphorus fertilizer per acre on citrus trees.

Another kind of mycorrhiza, in apple root

The mycorrhizal association might be termed a balanced parasitism; the fungus does exact payment for its services. Carbohydrates are, literally, the fuel of life, and though mycorrhizal fungi are adept at drawing minerals from the soil, they can’t make their own carbohydrates. So these fungi draw carbohydrates from their host plants, who can make it. Sunlight fuels the photosynthetic reaction of carbon dioxide and water into carbohydrates and oxygen.

Not all fungi are mycorrhizal. Non-mycorrhizal fungi get their carbohydrates either by eating living things without returning the favor, in which case they are called parasites. Others eat once-living organisms such as wood, leaves, and dead animals, in which case the fungi are called saprophytes. Some fungi feed on either or both the living and the dead.

Myco-where?

Mycorrhiza are almost ubiquitous on the earth. Walk through the woods in spring or fall and most of the mushrooms you see on the forest floor are the reproductive structures of mycorrhizal fungi, periodically popping up through the ground to spread spores. Below ground, these mushrooms are connected to nearby tree roots by fine fungal threads.

The plant known as Indian Pipes (Monotropa uniflora) offers an eerie signal of the presence of mycorrhizae below ground. This plant, with one nodding flower, is thoroughly white, lacking any chlorophyll with which it could use sunlight to fuel its growth. Instead, its roots tap into a specific mycorrhizal fungus whose underground threads are also tapped into the roots of a nearby tree. Indian pipes is a parasite; it takes from the fungus and the tree, offering nothing in return.

Indian pipes

Mushrooms are formed only by certain types of mycorrhizal fungi. Most mycorrhizal fungi are not so obvious, working unobtrusively in association with the roots of the vegetables and flowers in your garden, your lawn, shrubs, and trees. The gourmet’s truffle is the underground reproductive structure of one type of mycorrhizal fungus.

Most plants on our planet are infected with mycorrhizal fungi. Mycorrhiza are absent only in special situations such as in the acidic, nutrient-poor spoils left from mining operations, in agricultural soils that have been sterilized to kill pests, and in sterilized potting soil in flower pots. Certain plants never become infected; cabbage, spinach, buckwheat, and their relatives, for example.

The Practical Side

The importance of mycorrhiza is not diminished by their ubiquity. Mycorrhiza is a general term, and not all mycorrhiza are equal. A plant may be mycorrhizal, but perhaps not with the most effective species of mycorrhizal fungus or, perhaps, not enough of them. Mulching, fertilization, irrigation, chemical use and other gardening and agricultural practices alter the types and amounts of mycorrhizal fungi in the soil. Rototilling or turning over the ground, as you might imagine, disrupts those fungal threads. Except for high fertility, what’s good for plants — plenty of soil organic matter, growing plants, good aeration, adequate moisture — is also generally good for mycorrhizae.

Old-time gardeners would throw a handful of soil from an old apple tree into the planting hole for a new apple tree. A crude form of mycorrhizal inoculation? Agricultural researchers have tried to quantify why plants respond to inoculation with mycorrhizal fungi at one site, and not another. Which are the best fungi? What affects them? Recent research has shown that improved nutrition is only the most obvious effect of mycorrhiza. The mycorrhizal association also influences plant response to stresses such as drought, insects, and diseases.

As you might imagine, mycorrhizal fungi have been commercialized, available as inoculants or premixed into packaged potting soils. Under certain conditions, this might be beneficial. In many situations, it’s like “taking coals to Newcastle.” Usually, create conditions conducive to mycorrhizal formation, and a beneficial symbiosis will develop.

For my research as a graduate student, I studied the effect of, among other things, mycorrhizae in blueberry soils. Even my plants grown in sterilized soils in a greenhouse became mycorrhizal, which, while messing up that aspect of my experiment, did highlight how ubiquitous the association can be without the human hand.

If you want to lend your hand to the mycorrhizal association, you could actually extract and grow your own mycorrhizal inoculum. Read how, and learn all about mycorrhizae in Jeff Lowenfels’ excellent book Teaming with Fungi: The Organic Grower’s Guide to Mycorrhizae.

At any rate, mycorrhiza is a fascinating demonstration of ecology, the interrelationship of organisms on the earth.
Teaming with Fungi, cover

MY VINES GET IN ORDER

January 13, 2021/13 Comments/in Gardening/by Lee Reich

Pruning vs. Training?

A long time ago, when I first started growing fruit trees and vines, I read a lot about the all-important pruning and training they require. But I couldn’t get clear on my head what exactly the difference was between “pruning” and “training.” I went on to learn that and a whole lot more about pruning (through books, as an ag researcher for Cornell University, and with practical experience), and eventually wrote my own book about pruning, hoping to present the techniques with more clarity and completeness than all the books I had read. Perhaps my book, The Pruning Book, does that.
Grape vine in spring
Okay, to answer my question of yore. “Training” is developing the young plant to a permanent framework that is sturdy and will always have its limbs bathed in light and air, and whose fruits hang within easy reach.

Kiwifruit within easy reach

Training involves some pruning as well as coaxing stems to grow in certain directions. Once a fruit tree or vine’s training period ends, it generally only needs annual pruning.

Vine-y Training

I thought of all this today as I pruned hardy kiwifruit and grape vines. Both fruiting vines have been trained and are pruned similarly, with one slight variation that I’ll soon mention.

The kiwi and grape vines are trained as “double cordons” which are permanent arms sitting atop a trunk. They run in opposite directions along the middle wire of a 5-wire trellis, the wires parallel and supported about 6 feet of the ground on the cross-arms of T-posts. Each young vine was planted next to a metal or wooden stake to which the plant’s most vigorous stem was tied.

Once that trunk-to-be reached up to the middle wire, I tied it there and cut off all other stems. That trunk-to-be does, of course, keep growing; that new growth gets bent over and tied along the middle wire. Bending coaxes new buds to burst just beneath the bend, one of which is also bent over and trained along the middle wire in opposite direction to the first stem. Both these horizontal stems became the cordons, permanent arms of the plant. Growing off at right angles to the cordons are the fruiting shoots which, weighed down with their weight of fruit, drape onto the other wires.

Vine Maintenance

Today I’m maintenance pruning vines whose training period ended years ago. Maintenance pruning a mature fruiting vine keeps it bearing high quality fruit within easy reach year after year, all accomplished with a renewal method. That is, except for the trunk and the cordon, the vine is completely renewed with each year’s pruning.

I’ll admit it: A vine looks like a tangled mess before being pruned. But step by step, it begins to take shape and make sense. Kiwi before pruning

Knowing how a plant bears fruit is important in maintenance pruning. Kiwi and grape vines bear on new shoots growing off one-year-old stems. Kiwis bear best if those one-year-old stems are about 18 inches long. Grape one-year-old stems can be left long or short, but for my method of training, I want each one about two buds long, which is just a few inches.

Fruiting grape shoots emerge from 1-yr-old stem

Step one is a no-brainer. The outermost wires are 4 feet apart so I lop all growth back to just beyond those wires. My tool of choice for this is a battery-powered hedge trimmer although pruning shears would also do the trick, except at a snail’s pace. First step in pruning

Step two is to remove excess growth, which does two things. It removes potential fruits so that more of the plant’s flavor-rich goodness gets funneled into those that remain, and it decongests the plant. For this step, I cut back all stems 2 years or older.

But wait! Two-year-old stems have one-year-old stems, the stems needed for bearing shoots, growing off of them. So rather than cut a two-year-old stem all the way back to its cordon, I cut it back to a one-year-old stem originating near the cordon. Some one-year-old stems also grow right from the cordon. The best one-year-old stems are those that are moderately vigorous and, of course, look healthy. Moderately vigorous stems, for grape or kiwi, are about pencil thick (if you can remember what a pencil looks like; if not, about 1/4” thick).

Kiwi stem and pruning detail

There will always be too many one-year-old stems for the plant to make tasty fruit. So I reduce the number of potential fruits by removing some of the one-year-old stems, enough to leave six to ten inches between them on each side of a cordon.

Pruned grape vine

Pruned kiwi

Not finished yet. The final step is to shorten the fruiting shoots. For hardy kiwis, I cut them back to 18 to 24 inches long. For grapes, to about 2 buds or a few inches long.

Oh, one more thing to do: I prune off any new growth rising up from ground level or along the trunk lower than the cordons.

And one more thing: I step back to admire my handiwork. (Here is a video of me pruning a kiwi vine.)

But What About Bushes?

You might have noticed, early on, that I wrote about pruning and training “fruit trees and vines.” What about blueberries, currants, gooseberries, elderberries, and other FRUITING BUSHES. Yes, they need annual pruning also. No, they do not need training. Although the plants are perennial, their stems are evanescent, all with a limited life. They are pruned by a renewal method — at ground level. All this and much, much more (pruning ornamental plants, houseplants; creating and caring for an espalier; how to scythe; etc) in The Pruning Book, of course.

CLOSING “SHOP”

December 16, 2020/10 Comments/in Fruit, Gardening, Vegetables/by Lee Reich

Chips, Not Hay, In This Case

“Make hay while the sun shines.” Good advice, literally in agriculture and figuratively in life. And I’m following it these days, in agriculture. Not making hay of course, because that sunshine is only effective in summer and fall, partnered with heat.

The “hay that I’m making” is actually mulch that I’m spreading. A few weeks ago I put my “WOOD CHIPS WANTED” sign out along the road in front of my house. In a short time, an arborist was kind enough deposit a truckload of chips. I figured I could spread it on the ground beneath some of my trees and shrubs, especially the youngest ones. There, next summer, the mulch would keep weeds at bay, slow evaporation of water from the ground, and feed soil life, in so doing enriching the soil with nutrients and organic matter.

Usually, by this time of year, my piles of wood chips have frozen solid or are white mounds beneath snowy blankets. Not so this year.

So I’ve been loading up garden cart after garden cart with chips to haul over to the garden. (Once the ground disappears beneath a heavy, white layer of snow, moving heavy cartloads becomes nearly impossible.)

Since the most important trees and shrubs had already been mulched earlier in autumn, I decided it was a good time to add a layer of chips to the paths in the vegetable garden. Mulching chestnut trees Chips there are mostly to suppress weeds which thrived with last season’s unusually abundant rainfall and to soften, by spreading out, the impact of footfall on the paths. I generally “chip the paths” every couple of years at a minimum if for nothing more so that the height of the paths keeps up with the rising height of the vegetable beds which get — and already got, at the end of this season — a one-inch deep blanket of compost annually. (Besides the usual benefits of mulches, the compost provides enough nutrients for the intensively planted vegetables for the whole season. No fertilizer per se is needed.)

After decades of my adding an inch or more of wood chips to the paths and compost to the beds, you might suppose that the whole vegetable garden has risen a few feet above the surrounding area like a giant stage. Nope. The goodness of organic materials, such as the compost and wood chips, comes from soil organisms chewing them up and breaking them down. As decomposition takes place, the bulk of these materials, which are mostly carbon, hydrogen, and oxygen, is released into the air as carbon dioxide and water. The minerals that remain feed the plants.

Pine Berries?

One bed in the vegetable garden is home to strawberries. That bed also needs mulching, for different reasons and with different materials than the other beds, and needs it every year about now.

A strawberry plant is mostly nothing more than a stem, a stem whose distance from leaf to leaf has been telescoped down to create a stubby plant. Drawing of strawberry plant Like the stems of any other plant, a strawberry stem each year grows longer from its tip and also grows side shoots. So a strawberry stem rises ever so slowly higher up out of the soil each year.

Strawberry stems are not super cold-hardy. As a stem slowly rises higher in the ground, it’s exposed to more and more cold, and more apt to dry out.

What’s needed is to protect the stems with an insulating blanket of some loose organic material. Straw is traditional — and one possible root of the name “strawberry” — but good straw reliably free of weed seeds is hard to find. Instead of straw, I often use wood shavings, conveniently available in bagged bales. This year I decided that the giant pine tree here could spare a few pine needles, raked up to share with the strawberries.

The goal of mulching strawberries isn’t to keep cold out, just to moderate the bitterest cold. Strawberry bed mulched with pine needles Mulching too early might cause the stems to rot. I typically wait until the ground has frozen about an inch deep which usually occurs towards the end of December here, and then cover the plants with about an inch depth of wood shavings.

Come spring, the mulch needs to be pulled back before the plants start growing. Tucking the mulch in among the plants provides the usual benefits of mulch, especially important for strawberries because of their shallow roots, and provides a nice, clean bed on which the ripening berries can lie.

(More about growing strawberries can be found in my book GROW FRUIT NATURALLY.)

Hey, Good Looking

I admire the look of my vegetable gardens this time of year. With the chipped paths and compost lathered beds, some also with a tan cover of winter-killed oat plants, they look very tidy and ready to welcome new seeds and transplants in the months ahead. The look doesn’t compare with the lush greenery and colorful fruits of the summer garden, all of which is nothing more than a memory.
View of garden

ONE OF THANKSGIVING’S UNSUNG HEROES

November 25, 2020/15 Comments/in Gardening, Vegetables/by Lee Reich

Years ago I wrote about one of the unsung heroes of Thanksgiving, the groundnut (Apios americanum). This plant, which helped nourish the Pilgrims through their first winters, never achieved the reknown of corn, pumpkins, cranberries, and other foods of the season.

When I first wrote about groundnuts, I had just planted them. I pointed out that there was renewed interest in the plant, though specifics as to how to grow it were wanting and selection of superior clones was just beginning. Now that I have grown groundnut for a few (thirty plus!) years, I am ready to share my experiences.

It Looks Like . . . And Acts Like . . .

As you might guess from the name, the plant makes edible tubers, usually the size of golfballs and strung together on a thinner, ropelike root. The swollen roots on one of my plants are more the size of tennis balls than golf balls. Not as obvious, below ground, at least, is that the plant is a legume; as such, it can “fix” atmospheric nitrogen, that is, put it in a plant-available form.

The plant also has shown some virtues aboveground. Chocolatey brown flowers dangle like jewelry from the twining stems. The flowers are pretty enough to have accorded groundnut a place in flower gardens in France a hundred years ago. On some plants, the flowers also have a strong and delicious aroma – vanilla, instead of chocolate, though.
Groundnut flower
I started some of my plants from seed; others I purchased growing in pots. I trained each vine up and down and around a tomato cage. The plants were and still are in full sun and rich soil, with a thick mulch of wood chips. The ground is so fluffy that I can harvest by just grabbing one end of a root, then pulling it up and out of the soil.

Soon after I planted groundnut, I discovered that it is weedy. I was soon finding plants, first sneaking across the ground a couple of feet from mother plants, and then further and further.

Aboveground, the twining stems reached around and insinuated themselves amongst the branches of a nearby bush cherries and other plants.
Groundut vine
To further unsettle me, I was startled at the reappearance, with vigor, of one young plant which I thought I had destroyed as I dug looking for edible roots. (I since learned that harvest must be delayed until the second season.) I hope groundnut will not prove to be as unruly and as hard to remove as the horseradish I once foolishly planted in the garden!

Is It Good To Eat?

Now for the important question: What does groundnut taste like? Thomas Hariot, in A briefe and true report of the new found land of Virginia (1590) may have been the first to write of groundnut, and his opinion was “boiled or sodden they are very good meate.” In 1602, a correspondent from New England wrote to Sir Walter Raleigh that groundnuts were “as good as potatoes.”

Dr. E. Lewis Sturtevant (Sturtevant’s Notes on Edible Plants, 1919) reported an eighteenth century horticulturalist writing that the “Swedes ate them for want of bread, and that in 1749 some of the English ate them instead of potatoes.” He also quotes a nineteenth century writer, who wrote that the Pilgrims “were enforced to live on ground nuts.”

Moving up to the twentieth century, wild food forager Euell Gibbons, who enjoyed everything from cattails to milkweed pods, was reserved in his praise of groundnuts.

I have harvested groundnuts and, because they should not be consumed raw, boiled some and baked some. They taste almost as good as potatoes, though less distinctive. The texture was dry and mealy. Like Euell, I am reserved in my praise of the roots, though other groundnut plants might have better or worse roots. (After all, not all potatoes taste the same.)

I do think that groundnut, even in its present primitive state, is a native, perennial, permaculture friendly vegetable (I have been accused by some of being a permaculturalist) good enough to deserve a place at the Thanksgiving table. That is, it deserves a place in the garden and on the Thanksgiving table as long as it’s planted where its growth and spread can be reined in.

How about calling it one of its Indian names – nu nu, perhaps – and making nu nu stuffing standard Thanksgiving fare? Happy Thanksgiving!