Some Hummingbirds will wait patiently for their turn at the feeder, but there are some among the tiny wonders that live for the chase.
Waiting his turn at the trough
It’s not uncommon to have dozens of hummingbirds fighting over the feeder out in the country. Apparently it isn’t enough that I plant flowers full of nectar; the feeder is just too easy for them. And while a fair number of hummingbirds buzz the flower blossoms regularly, others spend their days swarming and dive-bombing the feeder.
In rural Lyon County, Kentucky, there are several springs dear to my heart. A few of them are known to most residents of Lyon County, but some are not.
The gorgeous Butterfly Weed (Asclepias tuberosa) is blooming again. Found along the highways–usually on rocky dry banks–this species of milkweed is native to eastern North America. As its name implies, butterflies flock to this orange beauty. But did you know you can grow this wildflower successfully in your own garden?
Beautiful wild Butterfly Weed
Here’s how:
First, please don’t do as I did in my ignorance many years ago. I went out and dug up a clump of Butterfly Weed and planted it in my garden. It was quite difficult.
For one thing, the Butterfly Weed sends its tap root straight down into the rocks. Digging the plant without breaking the tap root–which results in the death of the plant–is nearly impossible.
Butterfly weed bouquet
And second, digging and removing our native wildflowers is not a good thing. It destroys their habitat, and in many cases these wildflowers are already endangered.
No, the best way to grow these lovelies is to buy the seed, which is readily available. It might mean waiting a season for a stout bunch of flowers, but it will be worth it.
Butterfly weed makes excellent and long-lived bouquets, and hummingbirds and butterflies practically live on them. As you can see from the photo, bees love them too. They will grow in a clump about 3 feet tall, and are great accent plantings. Though primarily an eye-catching shade of vivid orange, every once in a rare while a yellow blossom will surprise you.
They are a long-lived perennial that will give you years of enjoyment. Hardy, pest-resistant, and take no fertilizing. They practically grow in dust. And, unlike many perennials, they blossom for up to a full month in summer.
It’s that time of year. Tomatoes are ripening and nothing tastes better than this simple sliced tomato and garlic salad. There are many variations of it*, but I still prefer this most basic of primary flavors.
I first had this particular salad at an Italian restaurant in Key West many years ago. The chef gave me the very simple recipe, which I didn’t have to write down. It’s that easy. Click “Read More” for the simple recipe. Continue reading “Simplest Tomato Salad”
How many times has someone said to you, “I just can’t grow African Violets”? I’m here to tell you that you can, and you will love them.
Violet near a window sill
I had heard about how hard it was to grow African Violets so often that for many years I wouldn’t even try to grow them. But I picked up a small beauty once at a yard sale, stuck it in a downstairs bathroom, and lo and behold, the thing became gigantic and bloomed non-stop year-round. The only thing I had done was to feed it using a water-soluble type of African Violet food.
I did a little research and it turns out that I had unknowingly placed the violet in the absolutely perfect environment for growing. For one thing the temperature in that half-bath stayed fairly even—between 65-80 degrees F. That’s ideal for violets.
Vigorous leaf and flower development
Another thing was the amount of sunshine the plant received. The bathroom had a window that got early morning sun, and the window had some of that semi-transparent film on it, the type that lets in light but you can’t actually see through. Like glass blocks. And it turns out that violets love bright indirect light, which is what it was getting. Strong, direct sunshine can burn their leaves.
Lovely violet in full bloom
The third thing was humidity. They don’t like it too wet nor too dry, and the small amount of evaporation from the half bath did the trick.
So, though all this sounds like a lot of work, it’s really quite simple. Most indoor temperatures are regulated year round, so you don’t have to do anything different there. But window placement is paramount. Put your violet where it will receive indirect sunlight, preferably in the mornings. If you don’t have such a window, then place a sheer curtain between the strong sunlight and the violet. Or simply move it back out of the strong sunlight a bit.
Feed violets for continuous blooming
DO feed and water your violet. I use the water-soluble type of African Violet food and simply follow the directions. A small bottle will last you years. As for water, violets like to stay moist, not dry and not wet. The specially made African Violet pots (which are pots within a pot) are ideal. The exterior pot holds the fertilized water, which seeps through the wall to the inner pot very gradually. The African Violet’s soil gets just enough water to keep it happy.
African violet with variegated leaves
There’s a reason your grandma’s African Violets looked so good in her kitchen window. They were moist from all the dish-washing, and they likely sat behind grandma’s gauzy sheer curtains.
And when you think about it, it makes perfect sense. I always tell people who ask for plant advice to consider the plant’s native habitat, and to try to replicate that for the best results. Violets in the wild grow near trees, so they are protected from winds and harsh rains. They get even moisture and filtered sunlight.
You can make a delicious home made chocolate syrup (or sauce) that takes just minutes and tastes terrific!
I grew up several miles from a grocery store. Quite often we simply had to “make do” to keep from traveling into town. We kept a cupboard stocked with basics and learned to make a lot of things ourselves. Chocolate syrup is one of the easy ones. Continue reading “E-Z Home Made Chocolate Syrup”
One of my earliest memories involves my grandmother’s “zillion” zinnias. She had rows of zinnias in her vegetable garden, large zinnias overflowing an old tire near the back door, and zinnias around the mailbox–placed there to welcome the rural mail carrier each day.
Who can resist these beauties? The colorful masses, so easy to grow, have long been a favorite of mine.
Zinnias on the farm
Sitting by the window on a dreary gray winter’s day, the seed catalog and its colorful photos of zinnias makes one yearn for spring. After ordering the various vegetables I always included at least one pack of zinnias in my order. I usually ordered one of the large packs of seeds, promising giant zinnia blooms.
Fringed zinnia and bud
Zinnias prefer full sun, but can take a bit of shade. They would rather be dry than wet and are prone to mildew. For that reason I water them as I do roses, from the bottom. Don’t let water stand on their leaves overnight if you can help it. Early morning watering is best. They benefit from regular feeding, but will bloom freely without it. Any good soil will do, as they will tolerate a wide range.
The zinnias begin to bloom
As with many flowering annuals, deadheading (removing the first bud or bloom) will cause the plant to branch out. Though it will naturally do this on its own, you can hurry the process along and get a fuller plant if you deadhead early. A bit of sacrifice early on will reward you with many more blooming branches.
Zinnias under-planted with portulaca
Bouquets of these gorgeous zinnias last longer than many other plants. Change the water every couple of days and if your room isn’t too warm, you could get at least a week out of each bouquet, possibly longer.
Zinnia bouquet
Be sure to leave a few blooms to mature on your plant. Zinnias are prolific seed producers. Gather the dead heads in the fall and store them in a paper sack over the winter. Avoid plastic bags as they can retain moisture, which can rot the seeds. Enjoy!
I spent a summer working in an apple orchard on Bent Mountain, near the Blue Ridge Parkway in Virginia. It was one of the most memorable times of my life.
Along about the holidays each year I get the calls for my broccoli casserole recipe.
It isn’t really mine, of course. Years ago—when I lived in the Shenandoah Valley in Virginia–I was introduced one Christmas to this broccoli casserole, and it was the best I had ever tasted. There are many versions of it, of course. Some use rice, or celery, even chestnuts. You name it and I’ve tasted it. Some leave out the onion, which is a big no-no around my house. Somehow, this one just tasted “right.”
The woman who made it got it from her mother, but there wasn’t anything extraordinary about it. No “hidden” ingredients or special treatment. Just an excellent combination of ingredients that make for a heavenly rich and crunchy dish. You may have made this same recipe yourself. If you haven’t, you should. Here it is: Continue reading “The Ballyhooed Broccoli Casserole”
Time to spice up that old wall with a splash of summer-long color.
Purple Wave pentunias
There is a tendency among gardeners who want to dress up their concrete walls to plant some creeping phlox and be done with it. And why not? Phlox is a perennial that will return to bloom year after year. And it will grow and spread, properly maintained. It’s actually quite lovely in early spring.
But that’s the problem with most perennials. They have a notoriously short blooming season. At most, under perfect weather conditions, you may get two to three weeks. More likely—at least it is around here—the temperature changes quickly and signals the plant to “get on with it,” meaning to finish flowering and move on the production of seeds. Which is, after all, the entire point of flowering.
There are alternative to this shortened season of blooms. Many annuals are available in the “trailing” or “hanging” varieties–everything from plain green ivy to some rather exotic geraniums.
My own favorite, and one that never fails to garner attention, is the lovely mass of trailing petunias known as “Purple Wave.” There are other and newer varieties out every year.
Another view of cascading petunias
Plant them (I buy the small plants at a nursery, but seeds are available) early in spring after the frosts have passed. Water them weekly if need be, and don’t forget the fertilizer. I feed mine weekly with Peter’s Professional water soluble plant food, but others prefer Miracle Gro, etc.
Then stand back and watch these lovelies do their stuff. Within a few weeks they will begin to mass and trail down the side of your wall. And they will bloom that way until the frost takes them away.
Hummus is easy to make, extremely flavorful, and relatively healthy, especially when compared with sour cream based dips. There are many variations, but my favorite is still the basic hummus recipe. Continue reading “The Humble and Healthy Hummus”
Is it possible for humans to love animals too much?
It has been 15 months since I took my Miniature Schnauzer, Katy, to the vet and had her put to sleep. No, not put to sleep. Let’s call it what it is: I had her put to death. It was 9:14 a.m. on a Saturday morning when the vet inserted the needle into her leg. I was holding her closely, whispering “It’ll be alright. I’ve got you.” into her ear. Seconds later she slumped limply onto the table, strangely heavy in my arms. The vet put his stethoscope against her chest and pronounced that she was gone. I thought my heart would simply break.
It came upon me so suddenly that I was unprepared. Maybe the vet and his nurse had heard it before—a grown man’s anguished sobs. I didn’t really care if they saw me or not. I couldn’t really help it. The nurse was sympathetic, saying, “It can be so hard to say goodbye.” I choked out a “Yes, it is. She was such a good girl—my baby.” She had been my dog for 14 years—now she was nothing. Her little heart, always so strong, was stopped. And I did it. I murdered my little girl and the pain and guilt that descended on me was a horror.
Katy as a young dog
I drove her to that vet in my truck that morning as she sat quietly, staring straight ahead during the drive–looking neither left nor right. Not at all like the younger Katy. Younger Katy was always up against the window, trying in vain to stick her head out of the crack, and barking at anything that moved. What a joy she was in her youthful vigor. But on this day she didn’t try to get up on the door. Her eyes had cataracts so she couldn’t see very well, and her hearing was going too. Her body had become covered with tumors, and she often yelped in pain when I tried to pick her up. There were some mornings when she appeared unable to get out of her bed. Sometimes she limped, and she often vomited up her food. It seemed I was in danger of waiting too long. I hated to see her struggle. Continue reading “Can You Love a Pet Too Much?”
The portulaca is blooming again–and boy, is it a stunner.
Portulaca in bloom
I have used portulaca all the traditional ways—concrete pots, flower beds, and as an under-planting for larger flowering plants like zinnias. Once I stuck a handful of plants into the hollowed-out portion of an old stump. That ended up looking particularly nice.
I recall as a youngster getting a broken piece of “rose moss” and sticking it into a plastic ice cream bucket. I piled some dirt around it and hung it from the clothes line. After a few days of watering it began to bloom and soon filled the bucket. It never ceased to amaze me that it lived and thrived and it didn’t even have roots when I stuck it in the pot. That’s how easy portulaca is to grow. It’s practically indestructible.
Lovely portulaca, or rose moss
Rose moss is very drought tolerant, requires no special fertilizer, and is rarely affected by insects. The seed is tiny, so you might want to mix it with sand before sowing it. Or just do as I do and borrow a clump of live plants from a friend or neighbor. Stick them in the dirt and stand back.
Each rose moss bloom, which won’t open on a cloudy day, lasts just one day, but is replaced each day by more and more blooms until they form a veritable carpet of rainbow colors. Once you’ve grown a pot full of these daily bloomers you are set for life. They produce thousands of tiny seeds in their pods, and end up self-sowing themselves. They’ll come back up in the same pot every year. The plants are tiny and reddish-colored when they first emerge after the frosts are over.
Get a pot started. You’ll be greeted each sunny morning with a fresh burst of color.
2 boneless/skinless chicken breasts cooked and cut into cubes (mine had been sauteed in mix of olive oil and butter, no batter added, drained and cooled)
2 large cans of whole tomatoes (remove cores and break tomatoes up with fingers)
2 good sized onions (chopped)
3 cloves of fresh garlic (smashed, diced, or minced)
It is tough to be a perfectionist in an imperfect world.
Several years ago, when I was a pizza restaurant manager, I had a problem. I wanted everything to be perfect. I wanted the restaurant to be spotless. I wanted the pizzas to be made to spec. I wanted the stock rotated so that the first in was the first out. I wanted my employees to be on time, to be dressed according to the code, and to know their jobs. I wanted smiles.
I wanted my customers to be happy, the bank deposit to be made on time, and the produce to arrive when it should. In short, I sweated the details because I was a perfectionist. But that’s a good thing, right? Maybe not so much. That year my staff had a birthday surprise for me when they presented me with a gift. I unwrapped the long slender package and inside was a riding crop. They were only half-kidding. Continue reading “Perfect vs. Good Enough”
Some of my fondest memories are of me sitting at my Grandma’s kitchen table in her old farmhouse watching her cook, and Grandma’s cornbread was a favorite.
Grandma gave birth (at home, during the Great Depression) to twelve children. To say that she knew how to cook would be a massive understatement. To keep her hungry brood fed she made everything from chocolate pie to churned butter, from cornbread to country fried steak–and all of it from scratch.
Grandma’s cornbread
One of my favorite foods (among dozens) of Grandma’s was her cornbread. Not too moist, not too sweet, just always perfect enough to eat by itself (though I usually slathered her home-churned butter on it, soft from sitting out on the table). Continue reading “Grandma’s Cornbread”
I don’t know how it is with growers in your neck of the woods, but here in the Midwest there’s a race each year for bragging rights. The race is to see who can produce the first vine-ripened tomatoes, and if it can be done by the 4th of July (without the aid of a greenhouse), it is considered quite an accomplishment.
Dad inspects his tomato plants on Father’s Day
Tomato progress must be checked daily. The first blooms are met with much praising, and when the tiny green fruits first appear, it is practically a cause for celebration. I usually get a phone call from Dad telling me “I’ve got tomatoes.” Personally, I don’t get all wacky over tiny green tomatoes, but I do love to rub my fingers through the leaves and smell their pungent fragrance. (I may be alone in this).
Does anyone else like the smell of tomato leaves?
Usually, about a week before the 4th of July, Dad can’t wait for the tomatoes to ripen on their own, so he picks the most likely candidates and tries to hurry them along in the kitchen window.
The tomato begins to ripen
Or we may yield to the temptation to slice up a few green ones and fry them. Sheer delight!
It’s Hydrangea time in the Midwest. Hydrangeas are a lovely perennial with either beautiful blue or pink flowers. There are also white varieties. Hydrangea leaves tend to burn in the hot sun, and they are lovers of moisture, so place the young shrubs in a semi-shady location that gets plenty of moisture. Like many perennials, their blooming period is short—just a few weeks—but they are quite showy and little trouble to grow. Hydrangeas are one of the few plants whose blossoms can be made to change color, depending on the pH level of the soil. (There are entire web sites devoted to them where you can find more information if you wish to change the color of yours).
Note the sun-damaged blossoms at top
We’ve had a wet spring this year, and the Hydrangeas around here are simply stunning. Note that the pH in the soil of these two plants must be mixed, for there are blossoms of both blue and pink.
The blackberry patch in the wild can be treacherous. Left to its own devices, the newer growth rises up to supplant the older dead vines. In this way the young leafy vines rest atop the older, woody vines. In spring the entire patch is crowned with a golden green, then a frosting of white blossoms, each like a tiny single-layer rose. The snow white blossoms open in clusters, a harbinger of the berries to come, each one a minuscule, tightly compressed imitation of a bunch of grapes.
Wild blackberry bush
Because of their density, blackberry patches are perfect hiding places for bees, wasps and snakes, all of which seek protection in these thorny lairs. Only the most determined berry picker wearing the toughest outer garments will pierce through the thick barrier of the patch to reach the sweet berries rising up high in the center. Wild blackberries produce jellies and cobblers almost too delicious to describe. My own memories of my mom’s thick blackberry cobbler, the hot purple juice bubbling up through flaky crust loaded with butter and sugar, can make me drool even in the depths of winter.
Blackberries begin to ripen
If you venture into the wilds for blackberries, you will need heavy boots for tramping down the vines. Jeans and socks saturated with Deet repellent are also required, and long-sleeved shirts to protect against the thorns (which still get in). Also, consider wearing a large hat if possible to shield you from the July sun.
After a few minutes in the full sun of a berry patch, where only the largest and sweetest berries grow, one begins to question whether anything is worth the hardship.
Fresh blackberry cobbler
But hours later, cool and fresh from a bath, few rewards are quite so tantalizing as the smell of a fresh blackberry cobbler beckoning from the kitchen.
