Showing posts with label propagation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label propagation. Show all posts
March 16, 2023 0 comments By: m

Spring has been postponed

 It wasn't this cold all winter.  Jeez.


That's too many days (nights) in a row that will be well below freezing.  I'm assuming the ground will even freeze.

In years past, I've often had plants ready to go out into the garden well before the garden was ready to receive them.  The last couple of years, I've adjusted that, and this year was going to probably be my best effort to time it right.  With that in mind, I started loads and loads of poppies.  They were big enough to go outdoors into my "cold frame," leaving me needed room in my seedling chamber for newly germinated plants.  Now I've had to bring everything indoors under less than ideal conditions.  They won't get enough light, but at least they won't freeze.


I also had my rose cuttings outdoors, and they might have been okay in the cold frame, but after seven years trying and finally having some success last year, I'm loath to take the chance.  One of them even has a bud.  I had the pot marked "South Africa", and that could be correct, but it looks like it could be "Razzle Dazzle".  Perhaps it will be more evident when the bud opens.  


In the garden, crocus were already blooming.

'Ruby Giant'

'Jeanne D'Arc'


I don't know why 'Ruby Giant' is named giant.  It certainly doesn't look like a giant.  Especially next to 'Jeanne D'Arc'.

I've done what I can to protect the plants already up and thriving, which includes the oriental poppies, daffodils, alliums, and some tulips.  Fingers crossed.



I (re)spread bald cypress needles over much of the tulip beds because I didn't have enough garden fleece.  We'll see what difference it makes.


And I've had the rhubarb under row cover for several days already.  It's been freezing a few nights in the last week or so, and rhubarb's large leaves don't do well in those conditions.


A few of the rose bushes have started to push out new leaves, and the climbing rose is further along than all the others.  I haven't removed the cypress needles from around the bushes yet anyway, but the climbing rose has leafed out all the way along the climbing branches.  I figured I could just cut it back when the leaf babies died but finally decided I'd try to save those tender shoots from the freeze.  Hopefully this works.  If the sun shines too brightly during the day, it might just cook those shoots, in which case I'll still have to cut it back.  Like I said, I'm out of fleece.  I've never had to cover this much area before.


Perhaps one year everything will work out perfectly.  You may call me a dreamer.

See you on the other side of winter.  (Lord, I hope this is the last of it.)
July 09, 2019 0 comments By: m

Air layering experiment update

In the previous post, I showed the results of my air-layering experiment on the 'Shazam!' rose bush in an attempt to get a clone.  Here was the picture:


I might have rinsed the little blob of roots for a better view, but it appeared to be a very delicate attachment, and I didn't want to chance knocking them off.   The leaves look pretty haggard, so I hope it's going to make it.  That was the wrong stem to use in the first place, as it had been damaged at the base by twig pruners.  Unfortunately, so had half or more of the other stems, and I didn't want to risk one of the few good ones left.  So far, this has not been a good year for the roses.  Too cold and wet for too long early on.

Anyway, the next day, I clipped off the two stems of the pink-flowered bush (whose name I don't know) where I made my second attempt to air layer, and this time I had much better success.

On one sample, there appeared to be only one root (which might actually have been a long fiber), along a white mass of callus - generalized cells that haven't determined what they're going to be.  They could develop into roots or scar tissue, which is what woody plants do to heal wounds, either one.



Again, apologies for not rinsing it for a better view.  I only thought of that on the second sample.  But you can see that the callus is forming at the edges of the stripped off area where the plant would be laying down scar tissue to seal off the living tissue.

This is the prepared stem after  being pruned from the mother plant:


Under the foil layer (which was there to protect the rooting area from being sun scorched), there was the plastic bag holding the rooting medium snug against the stem, and I could see roots had formed.



Once I carefully removed the medium, this is what I had:




I feel certain that's enough roots to support the little plant.  You can see that they formed at the top edge of the stripped off area, which is also where the callus is forming on the other sample.

I then clipped off the stem beneath the roots and potted it up, along with the other one that was still mostly callus.  


The one with all the roots was an "old" wood stem, and the one with the callus was this year's green growth.  I wonder if that has anything to do with the difference.

If I'd been serious about the experiments, I would have pulled off the foil to see if I could see roots before cutting them off the mother plant, but as it was experimental, I didn't really care if it were successful.  When I try to get clones of my favorite tea roses, that's what I'll do.  

Anyway, it was an encouraging experiment.

And I encourage you to experiment with your own plants in any way you think of.

Til next time.
July 08, 2019 0 comments By: m

Flora and fauna (no Meriweather)


Early this spring someone remarked that we just don't see many rabbits like we used to.  I don't remember the "used to" part, but I agreed that we didn't see many.  But this summer, we've got an abudance of bunnies here.  There are all sizes of them scampering around the yard and garden.  After the early damage to my peas and beets, they haven't been eating anything in the garden.  I think it's because they get their fill of clover in the yard.


And they're not diggers, unlike those rascal raccoons.  I set my traps out in the perennial bed where they were digging up all my newly planted gaura and trapped one raccoon and one possum.  



The next night was July 4th, and the nearby neighbors had a big fireworks display going for about two hours.  Neither trap was bothered for the next three nights, and there was no sign of digging in the garden.  Last night, I moved the traps back up to the house and captured (and released) two more raccoons.   Fortunately, there still wasn't any digging in the garden. So far, that's seven raccoons and a possum in seven days.

Yesterday we had an unexpected guest.  For the first time since I've been back (that I've noticed), a wild turkey came strolling about the grounds.


I hope s/he's not lost.

The lima beans look like they ought to be flowering any day now, and the onions behind them are pushing up out of the ground and could be harvested any time.


The cowpeas were showing a lot of what looked like insect feeding, but I haven't seen any actual insects on them, so I guess it could have been a leaf disease.


The newest leaves seem to be less damaged, so I won't worry about them.


So far, the Japanese beetles have been somewhat sparse.  I'd like to think the exteme cold froze out some of the grubs and we'll have a lighter population this year, but I don't dare say it out loud.

It seems like we've had a lot more shield bugs (named obviously, for their shape, aka stink bugs - aptly named when disturbed) this year than previous ones, although they were particularly bad on the tomatoes last year.  They don't have chewing mouthparts, but everywhere they stick their needle beaks leaves a small dead spot, and enough feeding disfigures the fruit.  Even though they're a  large enough size, they're hard to see because they blend in so well and lay pretty flat against the plants.  They're also fast movers, which is why I don't have any pictures.  (They could be what was feeding on the cowpeas.)

Here they are on the internet at Stink Bugs Guide:


This is the first time I've spotted their eggs, and unfortunately, these had already hatched.  It's very neat how they cut a perfect circle off the top of the egg to get out.



There are two types: the brown marmorated stink bug (Halyomorpha halys) and the green stink bug (Chinavia halaris).  I think this must have been the green ones, because the eggs are on an asparagus stem, and that's where I've seen mostly the green.

I'm afraid my prized little grapevine is going to be an insect magnet.  The new growing tips have been assailed by aphids, and this morning I found a caterpillar feeding.  I believe this guy is simply the grape leaffolder - Desmia funeralis.  The internet literature says they also feed on redbuds, which we have several of near the garden.  Oh boy.



UPDATE 7/13:  I spotted this lovely little moth on the grapevine today:

I'd never seen this moth before.  It's the eight-spotted forester (Alypia octomaculata).  According to the literature, as an adult, it feeds on flowers in the day, which is unusual for a member of this family - Noctuidae, the noctuid moths. It's also unusually colored, as most noctuids are dull browns and grays.  This guy is quite fancy with his shiny black wings, big yellow and white spots, and those very, very fancy orange leggings.  It seems backwards: this one feeds in the daytime in its evening wear, while the others feed at night in their camouflage.  Other members of the family are armyworms and cutworms.  The eight-spotted forester feeds on virginia creeper and grapes.  So, maybe my little grapevine really is going to be an insect magnet.
Speaking of damage, it's not all critters.  I snapped this picture at the edge of the soybean field that's next to the house and garden.  That's herbicide spray drift on the grass, which will die out in a large swath.  The field gets nearer and nearer the house every year because the  farmer plants to the very edge and then sprays herbicides just beyond that edge to keep weeds out of the crop.  One day, we'll be swallowed by corn and beans.  But this wasn't intentional.  It was a big mistake.


The last two surviving cabbages may or may not produce anything edible, but I'll leave them as long as they're healthy.  

'Violaceo di Verona'

'Kalibos'

Carrots are harvestable.  This year I planted 'Short 'n Sweet'.  They're short okay.  Not particularly sweet.


One 'Fall Gold' raspberry ripened.  They're very pretty and have a hint of a taste of honey.  I'll be looking forward to more of these.  


The 'Glencoe' red variety has stopped producing fruit, but is growing new canes that are taking up more space than I was expecting.  


Perhaps it's the copious amount of rain we got - two and a half more inches last week added to the toad stranglers we had all spring.

Hooray! I actually had success rooting cuttings of my climbing rose 'Moonlight', so if the raccoons find a way under the screen and bricks I laid down to protect it, I'll have a replacement.  I wish I knew what made it successfull, so I could get cuttings from the tea roses.  (I did finally get one from 'Julia Child'.)


It may have been the medium I used - playground sand and potting soil - which held moisture well.  Or, it could have been something else entirely.  I'll try some more using that same medium one of these days.  

It looked like my air-layering attempt to get a start from 'Shazam!' might be failing, but when I opened it up, indeed there were some roots.  I can't tell, but I don't think they're from the area that I scraped, but from a node, which means I didn't really have any success, just luck.


I potted it up and hope it can stay alive.  The leaves are damaged and won't be able to produce much food, if any, so I'm not feeling optimistic.


Wrapping it up, I offer you a Sun Ball (Craspedia)...


And a bouquet in honor of my sister's birthday.

Daylilies, Zinnias, Carnations, Roses, Gomphrena, Yarrow, and Marigolds

June 01, 2019 0 comments By: m

Mostly roses

The first of June has arrived, and finally we've had enough sunshine and heat for the roses to start doing their thing.

The first rose that bloomed this year was on a new variety I planted (mudded in) in March, and it was stunning.

'Razzle Dazzle':


This gorgeous orange rose (if it's not a fluke of weather and newness) has a form different than any others I have.  And it goes through more color changes: from dark orange, to yellow gold, to reddish.


When it opens fully, its relatively few petals are very large and graceful, giving way to a yellow center.  They lay out fully open in the heat of the day, and pull themselves back overnight.




And then, another of the new roses and another stunner, 'South Africa', bloomed.  A profusion of blossoms right out of the gate.


Pure gold.


Here it is set off by the red 'Grande Amore' in front of it.



Poor 'Shazam!', the oldest bush in the bed, which was outstanding last year, started out to look like it would be again this year.  And then it lost half its canes to a twig pruner.  I guess the systemic imidicloprid I put on it isn't working.    For fear I'll lose the whole bush, and having had no luck rooting stem cuttings in the past (although I'm still trying again this year), I'm attempting to air layer one cane to get a replacement plant.  Instructions can be found online by Googling "how to air layer roses."  I took some tips from several different sites, and came up with the following:

I cut open one side of a small plastic bottle and made a hole in the bottom about the same size as the neck opening, then filled it with a mixture of sand, vermiculite and peat moss, which I then watered thoroughly, letting the excess drain out.  


After stripping the bark off completely girdling about an inch of a pencil sized cane, I worked that section of it into the bottle, smooshing the damp mixture around to cover the wound entirely, then velcroed the bottle shut.


I then wrapped the whole thing in aluminum foil to help prevent drying and to reflect sun so as to not bake it.  I had to brace the cane with a couple of stakes to keep it upright.


That was two days ago, and if the top doesn't wilt, which it hasn't so far, hopefully that means it's living long enough to form roots at the girdled section, and once it has enough of them, I can cut that off and plant it.  

I may be disappointed in this trial, as the stem I chose also has some pruner damage at the base.  My thinking was that a first trial just to get the technique down was probably going to be a failure, and I didn't want to lose any of the few undamaged canes the plant has left.  

If it doesn't work, I'm going to modify the technique to just make a slice into the cane and pack that with sphagnum moss to prevent it healing, rather than girdling the cane the whole way round, and then pack the bottle of soilless mixture around it.  Well, on a different cane, of course.  

The idea is that the cane will take up water and nutrients through the xylem - the inner conducting cells - and produce roots at the wound in the cells near the surface where roots form.  Well, they're actually at the surface now that the outer bark has been stripped off.

If I have luck with either method, I'll repeat it on all my roses so I can have a backup plant in case I lose the mother plant.


Years ago in college, in one of my horticulture courses, we grafted fruit trees.  In that procedure, you make a slice into a stem and place the end of another sliced off stem bud lined up with the outer edge of the growing stem so that the very thin layer of growing cells (the cambium) just under the bark on each line up and heal together.  I was one of only two of us who had successful grafts.  Unfortunately, I had managed to successfully graft a flower bud instead of a stem bud!  It flowered and grew no further.

Next to the rose bed, I have a cut flower garden.  Most of the lupines have finished blooming, as has the baptisia. Snapdragons, yarrow and liatris are budding, and in bloom are the belladonna type delphiniums, toothache plants,  globe amaranth and something brand new to me: Apricot Fudge lily.


Blue and white belladonna type delphiniums

Globe amaranth  (Gomphrena)

Top: yarrow; center: butterfly milkweed; bottom: toothache plant

I'm calling that plant at the base of the butterfly house butterfly milkweed because that's what I think it is, not because that's what I know it is.  When it blooms, I'll be able to tell you.  It came up from last year, and that's what I had planted there.  On the other hand, this used to be a wildflower bed, and it's possible something that was originally there found its way back to the surface.

Cut flower bed

The other oriental and asiatic lilies in a bed near the house have nice big buds, but it will be a while yet before they blossom, I think.

At the entrance to the garden, the 'Hungarian Blue' annual poppies have started to bloom.



Krazy Kat decided the other day that the best place to preen was inside a tomato cage.


We've finally had enough clear, sunny days that most of the garden is at a good moisture level for planting.  Of course, I've already planted most things, or rather mudded in most things.  But this gave me a chance to plant lima beans and set out my pepper plants.

Snack peppers

Canteloupes are coming along, reaching the sides of the cages and starting to climb.


The peas are producing pods now.  I just hope the rabbits left enough for me to have at least one serving!

Center row: 'Improved Maestro' peas

The onion seed I planted is doing well enough.  They're the size to harvest as green onions now.  I'll thin them out soon and eat them as such, allowing the remaining plants to form bulbs.  At least, that's the theory.


I don't know about the cabbages.  After the rabbits chewed them off, they've put out new leaves, but I don't know whether they'll get a chance to make heads.  That bed was supposed to have cabbages and zinnias, but along with the rabbit damage, the cold and wet stunted and discouraged zinnia growth, so I filled it in with crimson clover.  It also has a few marigolds that I planted with the cabbages to hopefully repel cabbage moth.  It's quite the mixed-up plot.


The celtuce is bolting.  I'm not sure when I'm supposed to harvest it.  Is it past time?  You're supposed to pull the lower leaves off and eat the stem, but not having grown it before, I don't know if it should have been taller but not bolting and would have been in a less watery year.  I guess the only way to find out whther it's ready to eat or past ready is to pull one and try it.


Tomatoes are flowering, but the plants are much smaller than they have been in the past at flowering stage.  Another effect of the cool, very wet spring and having to plant in mud.

Last year:



This year:

 'Missouri Pink Love Apple'

 The cucumbers are finally reaching out to climb.


I've finally been able to take down my portable greenhouse.  I had only three flats left, and today I planted two of them.


The  three varieties of basil I started this year didn't do well at all.  The first round of bush basil all rotted in the greenhouse, and the second set are still too small to plant out.  In the purple variety, the first round were saved seeds, and none of the plants came up purple leaved.  I then bought some seed and planted 'Dark Opal', and only a few just barely hung on. I put them out today, along with the second round of cardinal basil, the first round of those having also given up the ghost.  I ended up with so few basil plants that I changed my plan from a whole plot of basil to planting my lima beans there instead of as a second crop in the pea rows, and planting the basils mostly amongst the flowers.  With an experimental, ornamental vegetable garden and and an "oh well" philosophy, you can do that.



Not too bad for all the weather and critter issues.

UPDATE 7/8:

It looked like my air-layering attempt to get a start from 'Shazam!' might be failing, but when I opened it up, indeed there were some roots.  I can't tell, but I don't think they're from the area that I scraped, but from a node, which means I didn't really have any success, just luck.


I potted it up and hope it can stay alive.  The leaves are damaged and won't be able to produce much food, if any, so I'm not feeling optimistic.