In praise of zinnias

"Like an/Autumn flower/In the frozen rain," Langston Hughes described an old woman in the poem "Troubled Woman."  I think the flower he referring to was a late-season zinnia, one of the fall's last signs of color.  Sure, they are not alone at this point--some nasturtiums, marigolds, and phlox are also floral holdouts, but I visualize the zinnia because of the way it ages so gracefully, the color of the blooms still faded but beautiful.  Their stems stand with dignity until it's time to give in the the fall chill.

I've been planting zinnias since I was a child, probably for the same reasons all along: they're easy to grow and almost always a success (except for the one year I planted old seeds).  A few seeds in May, a little water and full sun and by late July you have a colorful reward.  Although I've leaned more toward perennials in recent years, I still can't give up that 3 by 4 foot patch.  During the peak of their blooming season, a bouquet can last for a week.  Zinnias are still there for me after I've deadheaded and cut down every other flower around them; they stand guard and distract the eye from the tangle of vegetable plants that I know I need to clear out, soon.

First believed to have been cultivated in Austria in 1613, zinnias have been selectively bred since the 19th century.  The annual plant as we know it has its origins in the southwestern US, Mexico, and Central America, so their love of sun should come as no surprise.  I find them growing in about at least a dozen of the 40+ plots at the Minton Stable Garden.  They might look a little garish next to native perennials, but in a plot of mostly vegetables they add a colorful contrast.  

Genetic freakshow

It's October, and I guess this is the point in time when I should be posting pumpkin photos. However, the one pumpkin I found growing in the MSG has already been harvested.  Also, while my daughter and I spent a few hours at the Topsfield Fair last night, we were too busy riding elephants and ferris wheels and watching Canadian mounties parade their horses in formation that we never made it to the pumpkins.  If we did, we still would not have caught a glimpse of history in the making; as you may have already seen or read in the news, a farmer from Sharon (located about an hour south of Boston) has been growing the world's largest pumpkin.  Latest reports have it weighing in at 1,878 pounds and gaining 11 pounds a day.  Tomorrow in Warren, Massachusetts, there will be a competition during which the broken record will become official.

What's the secret to an enormous pumpkin?  Well, obviously you need to start with a genetic seed.  In this case Steve Connolly used Atlantic Giant seeds originally patented by a Nova Scotia farmer, and kept it thriving on a diet that included North American kelp, cow manure, maple leaf compost, and fish fertilizer.  Growing these megapumpkins has become quite the sport these days; I wouldn't be surprised if a new record of over a ton will be established next year.

I feel a little sorry for these plants, even if they have no brains.  They sort of remind me of child models and athletes that have been cultivated and paraded around, unable to live a normal life.  What happens to a pumpkin that size when it dies?  Does this variety taste good enough for pie?  Could you start your own roasted seed business?  You couldn't just put in in the compost, you would need to cut it up so it could fit into several bins, or just dump it in the trash.  Maybe Connolly will preserve his just like someone would stuff an animal.

If genetic engineering could produce something of such an unnatural size, I wonder what's next.

Last chance

So this is it, according to my husband who was listening to the weather forecast this morning.  He called me from his car and told me to get the rest of the basil out, as tonight's temperature will plunge into the 30s and a frost has been predicted for Northeastern areas as far south as Connecticut.  Since he's in New York I guess that will be my job.  There's not much left in our plot but we have some in planters out back.  A friend of mine suggested drying it in the oven, but some believe that freezing it with a little oil will better preserve its flavor.

Don't just sit there!

Fall--a time for birthday parties, open studios, apple picking, the Roslindale Parade, etc. and after shivering for a few hours in the fall chill, lounging on the couch under a blanket, coffee and Sunday paper within reach, checking the foliage status of the maple across the street...gardening is over, right?  Of course not.  

But like the cleanup at the end of a party, it must be done.  I guess that would really happen in November, so October is like that period where you start shutting off the music and yawning in front of your guests, telling how great it was to see them, and making sure everyone has a ride home.

October is one of the busiest months of the year, especially when it comes to the planting of trees, shrubs, and bulbs, as well as dividing and transplanting perennials, composting, and protecting some plants from the winter elements.  With the exception of a raspberry plant I brought home from the Perennial Divide, most of my transplanting involves moving around a few perennials at home.  

In my Minton Stable plot, I'll keep my lettuce and carrots watered, cut back spent perennials, and pull out and compost the tomato plants.  I'll try to get around to harvesting the basil before it's too late; most of it's out already.  I'll keep the zinnias blooming and, as much as I know there won't be a harvest, I can't bring myself to pull out the peppers and eggplant until next month.  According to the community garden rules, the plots must be cleaned out by November 30, so I have time.  If I lived a little farther north, in Zone 7, covering the strawberries would be a good idea.  I did nothing to protect them last year and they still proliferated.

I'll think about a winter cover plant that would enhance the soil, such as winter rye, which my husband swears by but is hard to find.  I'd be curious to know what other gardeners are planting.

Okay, it's Monday, the sun is out, so it's time to stop procrastinating.

But do they garden?

Tonight some of my friends are coming over to watch the first and only VP debate.  During this time of anxious uncertainty over who could be a heartbeat from the presidency, I can understand why they are spending more time at political blogs such as the Daily Kos than here.  But having witnessed enough lunacy, we have pretty much decided who will get our votes anyway.  So why not explore another angle--where do these candidates stand on their gardening philosophies and practices?

An internet search for answers revealed little.  One search using the words "Sarah Palin organic gardening" uncovered a page from the Huffington Post that addresses organic gardening but not Palin--the reason it came up in my results was that on the same page there was a link to a poll that asks "Is Sarah Palin's lipliner a tattoo?"  I could not find any evidence that Joe Biden gardened either, though a gardener dedicated her blog post to her positive interactions with the lawmaker.

Perhaps a career in politics leaves little time for gardening.  So instead consider some of their positions on the environment.  We've all heard that Palin supports drilling for oil in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge; Biden opposes it.  Another noteworthy observation is that the Humane Society has agreed with 80% of Biden's positions, and that he had advocated for more compliance with mercury regulations as well as an increase in cleanup of this dangerous substance.  

Whoever we elect for #1 and #2 should appreciate the importance of gardening for many of us, and the advantages shifting the emphasis more toward locally grown food.   They wouldn't be the first executives to consider it, as this video shows.

First carrot

As I mentioned in a previous post, I try to wait until I see the top of the carrot peeking out of the soil before harvesting it.  This year, my attempts to grow some of the "Scarlet Nantes" variety by seed were hampered earlier in the summer when squash plants from a neighboring plot shaded them out.  After the responsible gardener contained the leaves of those plants, the surviving carrots flourished.  There are only about a half dozen, but that's a significant improvement over the "Long Imperator" variety that failed to come up last year.  As you can see from this photo, (borrowing Hanna's practice of using a quarter for perspective), I think I should leave the remaining carrots in the soil for a little while longer.

Living up to its potential

The drenching rains are back, though more welcome this time; things were getting pretty dry around here.  At least it's not raw, and I can postpone harvesting the rest of the basil for a few more days.  So I will pull something out from my rainy day topics.  Earlier this month, on the day of the barbecue, Allan was playing with one of his new toys he discovered during a housecleaning: a pH meter.  He stuck the needle in various plots in the MSG to measure pH levels in the soil.  

Until that day, I had never given pH levels much attention.  Science not being one of my favorite subjects, I did not know that pH meant "potential for hydrogen," and that it was the measure of a soil's acidity or alkalinity.   Nor did I know that it was measured on a scale of 0-14, and that a pH reading above 7.0 was considered alkaline and below 7.0 was acidic.  Not to mention that the pH scale is logarithmic, meaning that a pH of 6 is 10 times more acidic than a pH of 7.  

Now, if you are still awake, let me get to my point.  The pH level of the soil in most parts of my plot was around 6.8.  This is within the optimal range for growing vegetables, at least what I've been growing.  Interestingly, the reading in the compost pile was 5.5, which is more acidic, yet still within the range.  Being the lazy gardener that I am, it's nice to know that I don't need to make adjustments!  Why should pH matter?  Because when a level is not in the optimal range, it adversely affects the way plants can use the nutrients in the soil.  A more thorough explanation of pH and how it impacts the soil can be found here.