Posted on by tonytomeo · 10 Comments

Holy Guacamole!

P71202.jpgHorticulturists have a way of making all those long Latin names sound easy to pronounce. Lyanothamnus floribundus ‘Asplenifolius’ – Syzigium paniculatum – Metasequoia glyptostroboides. I do not know why proper pronunciation of their names is so important. They have no ears. They can not hear if we simply call them ‘Earl’. Even if they could hear, they would not respond.

Communication with other people is probably more important. Yet, we are so often unable to spell something as seemingly simple as the sound of a palm frond falling to the ground. Does it sound like “whoosh”, or “splat”, or some combination of both? What do the Santa Anna Winds sound like as they blow through a grove of Aleppo pines? What does a red flowering gum full of bees sound like?

Heck, Brent could not even tell me what an incident that he heard in his own backyard sounded like. As he came home from work and was getting out of the car in the driveway a few days ago, he heard in rapid succession, a loud ‘CRACK!’ followed immediately by a loud ‘WHOOSH!’ and a big ‘THUD!’ and ‘BANG!’. Well, I was sort of clear on all that, but it was the finale that was baffling him.

He said it sounded like someone dumping out a big bucked of tennis balls filled with something to make them heavy. I did not ask how he knew what that sounded like, or what the tennis balls were filled with, or why anyone would fill tennis balls with anything, or . . . He was obviously unsatisfied with that explanation, so said it sounded more like a whole bunch of billiard balls bouncing off of the bumpers all at the same time, without bumping into each other. Well, that is some pretty talented pool.

Okay, so it sounded like when you get into an elevator on the ninth floor of the Bank of America Tower, you know the big one downtown, and the bottom falls out of your big bag of ‘Eureka’ lemons somewhere between the fifth and fourth floors, and everyone is staring because it is noon thirty on Friday, and . . . well you know, . . . and then there was this . . . and . . . ain’t nobody got time for that!

Dude, just shut up! I get it.

Well, he went to the backyard to investigate. The source of the commotion was not immediately apparent from ground level. Everything seemed to be in order, maybe a bit sunnier, which might not have been noticed anywhere else after autumn . . . but this is Los Angeles. When Brent looked up to the deck on the flat roof of the office, it all became clear.

The big avocado tree in the neighbor’s garden dropped a big limb onto the deck. The last strange sound he heard was that of so many heavy avocados hitting the deck and scattering in every which direction, including down the wrought iron spiral stairs. All the patio furniture and cool potted plants up there got clobbered. Fortunately, there was no serious damage, and the avocado tree should be fine. Most of the fruit was in good condition. Only those that fell down the stairs were pulverized into lumpy guacamole.

Posted on by tonytomeo

The Secret Affairs Of Flowers

61207thumbThere are some things about plants that we might be better off not knowing about. For instance, their idea of sex is even weirder than that of humans! Generally, flowers of ‘monoecious’ plants have male parts and female parts that do what they must to produce seed, which is often contained in some sort of fruit structure. Some plants can pollinate themselves. Ick! Others require separate but compatible pollinators.

Some plants bloom with both but separate male and female flowers. Female pine cones that produce seed are very different from the male pine flowers that produce pollen. Female flowers of spruce and several other conifers bloom higher in the canopy than male flowers. This promotes better cross pollination, since pollen must be blown upwardly but relatively randomly to the cones instead of simply falling from above.

Dioecious plants might seem less . . . weird. They actually have separate genders. Some are female. Some are male. Female plants require pollination from male plants in order to produce seed and fruit, though some can provide a few of their own male flowers if they sense a lack of males in the neighborhood. Ick again! There are certain advantages to every method of pollination, whether it makes sense to us or not.

One advantage of dioecious plants that does make sense to us is that messy fruit can be prevented by growing one gender or the other. Modern cultivars of Chinese pistache and maidenhair tree (gingko) are male, so can not produce the messy fruit that older trees are notorious for. Female date palms recycled from old date orchards are unable to produce dates without the male pollinators that do not get recycled.

However, this is a disadvantage if holly can not make berries because it lacks pollinators. Decades ago, scions (stems) of male holly were grafted onto female plants. Alternatively, male plants were sold along with female plants.

Posted on by tonytomeo · 11 Comments

Blue Ribbon

P71001Somewhere in the San Lorenzo Valley, there is a little old lady who is stitching a blue quilt. It is made of all the blue ribbons that she wins every year at the Jelly and Jam Contest of the Santa Cruz Mountains Harvest Festival. I do not know who she is, but I recognize her squiggly writing on the fancy labels. It is barely legible. Her hands are worn and tired from three quarters of a century off picking fruit, processing it into jelly and jam, and then stitching all her blue ribbons together. She probably giggles as she works, and thinks about everyone who wins only red or white ribbons.

Three years ago, I submitted my blue elderberry jelly and ‘Shiro’ white plum jam into the contest. They both won! Blue elderberry won second place. White plum won third. Two years ago, the blue elderberry jelly won second place again, although the white plum jam did not win anything.

Last year, I submitted the maximum of five jellies and jams. I was determined to get my blue ribbon! In conjunction to blue elderberry jelly and white plum jam, I also submitted peach jam, blackberry jelly and Santa Catalina Island cherry jelly. However, the Jelly and Jam Contest was not publicized like it should have been. Very few people were aware of it. Consequently, there was only ONE other entry! It was a sloppy and seedy strawberry and kiwi jam made from fruit that was not likely home grown. I knew I would finally win my blue ribbon, and probably red and white too! Technically, it was not cheating. It was just the way things worked out.

It was no surprise that the blackberry jelly won third place. It was a bit of surprise that the blue elderberry won second place, even though it had done so twice before. I was hoping that it would be the blue ribbon winner. That was not a problem. I was sure it won second place only because one of the other three had won first place. I stepped off the grandstand after claiming each of the two ribbons, but thought about just staying there for the third. I did the tactful thing and walked off stage.

Finally, the first place winner of the blue ribbon in the Jelly and Jam Contest was to be announced. I was halfway into my first step back to the grandstand when I heard “STRAWBERRY AND KIWI JAM”! What?! How was this possible? What was she putting in that jam?! The winner was not present to claim her ribbon, but she won nonetheless. I imagined her watching with a telescope from the window of her secret hideout in the mountains above town, and laughing maniacally.

Well, the Santa Cruz Mountains Harvest Festival was yesterday. For the Jelly and Jam Contest, I submitted only two entries; blue elderberry jelly and blackberry jelly. There were only four other entries; fig jam, peach jam, another blackberry jelly and the infamous strawberry and kiwi jam. I was pleased that my blackberry jelly won third place, and I still hoped for the blue elderberry jelly to win second or first. The peach jam won second. It was made by . . . WHO? MY MOTHER’S PEACH JAM WON SECOND PLACE?! This was intolerable! I ALWAYS win at least second place! What made it worse is that I lost to my MOTHER’S peach jam! Where did she learn how to make jam? . . . and from peaches from the tree that I grew? Before I could recover from this baffling revelation, the first place winner was announced; and it was again, the strawberry and kiwi jam.

Wow! I do not know what to think. I got to meet the lady who makes the strawberry and kiwi jam. She is not a little old lady who lives in a secret hideout. She is a pretty young lady, and she actually told me that she does not intend to compete next year, and told me that I should try her recipe. I thanked here but declined. I do not want to use store bought produce. Now the difficult part. I need to deliver the second place red ribbon to my mother who was not there to claim it.

Posted on by tonytomeo · 16 Comments

My Philosophy On Garden Chemicals

70927lthumbspareI have very few reservations about using chemicals in my garden. I bet you did not expect to read that. It is the quick and easy explanation about my philosophy on garden chemicals. Almost all chemicals that are available to the general public are reasonably safe if handled and applied properly. I am actually more concerned about the larger volumes of chemicals used in the landscape industry, and applied by technicians who can not read the labels or write their use reports. Yes, it happens. Anyway, some of the sugars, salts, preservative and other components of some of the food I eat is more dangerous than chemicals I use in the garden.

That is because I use almost no synthetic chemicals. I have almost no use for them. I only occasionally use semi-synthetic fertilizers like fish emulsion. Just about every disease or insect problem I have encountered in my own garden was most efficiently controlled by cultural methods or simple home remedies that have been effective for centuries, or even thousands of years, long before the first and worst of the really nasty garden chemicals were invented less than two centuries ago.

That certainly does not mean that all home remedies are completely safe, or even any safer that some of what are considered to be ‘chemicals’. I mean, they are supposed to ‘kill’ things. Tobacco is unfortunately toxic, and kills many people quite regularly. That is precisely why a cigar butt or a few cigarette filters can be simmered into a tea to spray onto small potted plants, like fuchsias, to kill aphid. Adding a few drops of dish soap makes it even more effective (although in a different way). Is it toxic? Yes. Am I concerned about it? Not really. Although, it would be nice if no one used tobacco anymore.

Dish soap that so many of us use as a ‘natural’ remedy for aphid is almost as effective for immediate kill even without tobacco tea, but lacks residual toxicity. Because it is necessary to use a slight bit more soap if it is used alone, it is more likely to damage tender foliage. Also, most dish soap is actually less ‘natural’ than tobacco is! Homemade soap made from bacon fat may seem to be more natural, but the fat contains of all sorts of unnatural nitrates. It certainly does not bother me any; but those seeking totally natural remedies should know. (They probably should not eat bacon anyway.)

What do I do for peach leaf curl? Nothing. Well, nearly nothing while the disease is actively ruining foliage. However, while the trees are bare through winter, I prune them very aggressively. Pruning is done so that the trees do not overburden themselves with fruit, but it also stimulates vigorous vegetative growth the following spring and summer. After bloom, while peach leaf curl is busy ruining the first phase of foliage, vigorous vegetative (non-fruiting) stems are busy speeding beyond infection with reasonably healthy foliage. Inadequately pruned trees lack vigor, and are therefore more susceptible to the disease.

The worst of the damaged foliage lower in the canopy falls away as it gets replaced by healthier foliage. It should be raked and disposed of (not composted) because spores of the disease overwinter in the fallen foliage. I actually prefer to pluck much of the damaged foliage from the trees because, technically, it dispersed spores more efficiently while still viable and actively infected. Does this eliminate the disease? No; but neither does spraying chemicals.

Does putting ‘Tanglefoot’ or axle grease around the trunk of a lemon tree infested with scale eliminate the scale? Of course not. It merely keeps out the ants that cultivated the scale. (Ants have a symbiotic relationship with the scale because the ants consume the honeydew excreted by the aphid. Ick!) Without the ants to herd them around and protect them from natural predators, the scale are not so prolific. You might not even know they are there. ‘Controlling’ them just might be better than ‘eliminating’ them with a chemical insecticide. Besides, it leaves something for their natural predators to consume so that they are there when we need them.

After centuries of breeding plants to do what we want them to do and behave very unnaturally, we really should consider how to get nature to do some of the work it really wants to do ‘naturally’.

Posted on by tonytomeo · 8 Comments

Never Forget the Valley of Heart’s Delight

 

The Santa Clara Valley really was as idyllic as the natives say it was. It was excellent for us kids, as well as for our parents who raised us here. That is why it is also know as the Valley of Heart’s Delight.

Every autumn, the orchards would turn soft yellow. Cherry orchards got a bit more orange. Apple and pear stayed greener later. The foliage still smelled sort of fruity. Leaves would start to fall with the first breezes and cool autumn rain. There was still mud here back then. It was real orchard mud; not the sort that happens because a gardener waters the lawn way too much.

By winter, the foliage on the ground smelled earthy. . . very earthy. It might have been slippery to walk on. The upper stems of the bare trees reached upward as if they were not expecting to be slowed down by the change in the weather. The trees seemed to watch each other getting pruned, and then point and laugh at each other when it was all done. Debris piled on the edges of the orchards burned fast, and then smoldered for a few days, with a narrow wisp of almost sweet smelling smoke.

Spring made you think the whole world was in bloom! It was billowy white bloom. Apricot was the best, but cherry ad almond were brighter white. Prune seemed to be very slightly blushed. It was all white, but different flavors of white. It was so soft and fragile. The fragrance was surprisingly simple, sort of fruity, and . . . perfect. Apple and pear bloomed later, giving the illusion that bloom lasted a long time. However, each type of orchard bloomed only for a short time. Let’s be honest; apple and pear did not smell quite as good as the rest; and some described them less graciously than those of us who were kids back then. Walnut and fig, well, they were always the odd ones anyway.

Summer smelled like fruit. It was everywhere. It smelled sort of grassy at first while the fruit was developing. By the end, it smelled way too ripe. Finally, it smelled like wine and toasted soil. The soil here really was great. It was grey and heavy. Summer was warm but only rarely hot. Mustard grew under the trees, and then wilted down just before getting cut.

We were all raised with horticulture, whether we realized it or not, or whether we liked it or not. We all got peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in our lunchboxes because our mothers had to get rid of the apricots somehow. Fudge at Christmas was overloaded with walnuts. Mom’s apple pie was not revered here like everywhere else in America. It was our culture. It was everywhere.

Even though almost all of us were natives, and most of our parents were natives, and some of our families had been here for several generations, the horticulture was imported from all over the place. Apricots, cherries, prunes, peaches, almonds, walnuts, figs, pears, apples; there was just about every fruit tree imaginable. They came from Turkey, France, Italy, Spain, Greece, England, Persia . . . really anywhere and everywhere. Our ancestors brought their horticultural expertise from Italy, Spain, Japan, Oklahoma, Portugal, Mexico and who knows where else. It all came here and somehow got mixed together to make the Valley of Heart’s Delight, our own distinct culture within the Santa Clara Valley.