The State of the Garden Message

Hurricane Will came barrelling through a little more than a week ago, and he spared us. Lots of leaves and needles down, but little rain, and just enough wind to scare us. We lost power for a couple of hours, but the backup system kicked in, and we hardly felt it. As always, it's the Not Knowing that is tough. Two hours, though, was easy peasy.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Dawn Redwood (Metasequoia glyptostroboides, and yes, I'm showing off) planted this spring is so sweet I almost can't stand it. She's already starting to sport her Christmas-tree shape, and the growth on her was incredible. We had so much rain and humid weather that at one point I saw some browning needles on her, and was worried that some opportunistic fungi was going to get serious. But it never did, and she's going into the winter in fine shape.

The Little Leaf Linden(Tilia cordata), planted at the same time, had a rougher time due to some Japanese beetles mistaking her for lunch.  They were dispensed with, but I felt badly that I wasn't paying enough attention to her.

The Columnar Plum, fall-planted just a year ago, also did well with the wet cool summer. Phew. I need to figure out to support her before the serious snows come, and do a little pruning, but she's going to be wonderful in that corner.

And the last tree to report on is a new one, a Stanley (European) Plum. I had ordered it last summer when we lost one of our peach trees; a sad but not unexpected event, especially when we found that a plastic container on it's root ball that had the sign "remove before planting" hadn't been. The plum came from Forest Farm nursery, where most of my other trees have originated. It's a long way to ship, but they do such a great job. While I love our more local nursery (Fieldstone Gardens), they haven't had the specific trees I need.

Anyway. Forest Farm emailed me to say that the tree they were sending me had lost all of her leaves prematurely due to the heavy smoke in their area. After some back and forth, I decided to take shipment on it anyway. Nothing beats a failure like a try, and they will refund my $'s if she's doesn't make it through the winter in good health.

Planting conditions were perfect. . .not too warm and overcast, and the soil is in good shape. As usual, we (the royal we, since my bone issues are preventing me from doing this sort of labor) dug a very large hole, and replaced half of the soil with peat moss. Still well, and drop her in. Yay. Her buds look a little desiccated, so I sent images to the nursery, and now all we can do is wait. And of course give her a legging to avoid southwest injury.

Other food-related horticultural things:

The raspberries (only 2 years old) are still giving me about a handful every other day. I had reservations about the cultivar, Joan J., but I am relieved of those now! The flavor is really wonderful, as well; which was not true of the spring crop.

 

We had a very nice potato crop. Also unexpected, because I had envisioned them rotting in the ground with all of the rain we had. Cultivar was Red Pontiac (a car I wish I had owned in the 60's). The carrots are still out there. I didn't thin them enough early in the season, so my noble consort went out and re-thinned them a week ago. We ate the diminutive roots (tasty), and are hoping that the leftovers have a chance to fill in their newfound space.

Kale still reigns supreme. Amazing stuff. The Japanese beetles had a go at it as well, and clearly preferred the smoother leaves to the very curly ones. Wish I could remember the cultivar names now, but most of you know I'm of an age.

The green bush beans are still sitting in back of the kale, but their little offerings are just about over. Nice to add them to a stir-fry or pizza when we have them.

And that's the state of the garden. Winterizing is starting (concrete sealing, check!), and we continue to love this place on earth.

Mushrooms abound. . .

The abundance of rain has brought with it an abundance of mushroom species. . .many unknown to me. When I look up "mushroom that looks like a sponge", I'm rewarded with the following Wikipedia entry:

The genus Ramaria comprises approximately 200 species of coral fungi.^[1] Several, such as Ramaria flava, are edible and picked in Europe, though they are easily confused with several mildly poisonous species capable of causing nausea, vomiting, and diarrhea; these include R. formosa and R. pallida. Three Ramaria species have been demonstrated to contain a very unusual organoarsenic compound homoarsenocholine.

It is really abundant in our woods around the house, though I haven't seen it in previous years. Here's Wikipedia's image:

We weren't planning on eating it, so it's all good. 

We also have this beauty growing on a stump in our yard. My mycology friend says it's a Jack-o-lantern mushroom, and is quite poisonous. One of these days I'll learn about all of the mushrooms that abound in Maine, though it might be a bad idea given my increasingly poor memory.

When closely examined, one can see that something. . . a squirrel? . . . has been chewing on it. When I expressed concern for the squirrel's well being, my friend assured me that what's poisonous to people isn't necessarily poisonous to other mammals.

This, of course, surprises me, but then squirrels likely evolved eating all sort of things that we don't really consider food. Acorns, for example? Still. Since we use rats as the model for toxicity in drugs and pesticides, it still surprises me.
 

The not-so-good news I got this past week is that I may not be able to eat tomatoes any more. It's killing me, but then the pain from my arthritis is just about killing me too. Funny thing how memory works. I remembered a pomology professor from University of Maryland telling me that he didn't eat any plants in the Night Shade family (Solanaceae), because it made his arthritis much worse. I thought he was older than God at the time, but I think he might have been younger than I am now. This memory came back to me as I am enjoying a lovely tomato harvest. Oh my. So, I got an idea. I'd test it on myself. I started by eating about a pound of ripe cherry tomatoes. They are like candy. . .Sweet 100 is the cultivar. . .and wow. They were delicious. That night, when the arthritis pain is always at it's height, I was in agony. No sleep. Deep deep pain in my bones. . . mostly back and joints. I've been Night Shade free for almost 10 days now, and the pain has definitely lessened. Not completely receded, but I can sleep through it, and distract myself from it during the day.

What a thing. And the tomatoes just keep coming. I'm giving them away right and left, and while John still eats them, he has never had my passion for them. I may make some sauce just in case I can't repeat the experiment, but mostly I'm giving them away. 

We really do have things taken from us, one after the other, as we age. I know that I'm lucky that it's no more than tomatoes, or energy, or the ability to sit comfortably anywhere, but it still stings.

We leave for a trip to see friends in Massachusetts in a couple of days. I'll bring a bunch of homegrowns: kale, herbs, jam, and of course, tomatoes.

There is a lot of controversy on this subject, it turns out. Another pomologist with whom I was acquainted (and was the president of our professional society, The American Society for Horticultural Science) published a book on it, and because quite an evangelist on the topic. He, too, had suffered as my professor had. This is at least 40 years ago now. WebMD reports that while there is extensive anecdotal evidence that the nightshade family causes flareups of osteo arthritis, there has been no definitive study to support it. We need to start delivering medicine for the individual, not for the average. 

I'll close with a smile. Best. Dog. Ever.