Wait 'til the frog croaks thrice.

There's an experiment on frog spawn taking place here

I had a child in tears this morning when he heard that there was snow in the forecast. He is SO ready for warm weather. Aren't we all?

While I was walking the dog this morning, a neighbour pulled over to say hello and this is what she told me about spring: "They say wait until the frogs croak three times." I looked at her, I'm sure, like she'd grown a second head. "They sing, then they stop, sing then stop and the third time you hear them singing, then it's spring," she explained. Apparently we're only on song #2.

I'll explain this to the young plants in the greenhouse tonight when I drape them in some old blankets I keep for days like today. I'll explain the same to the weepy boy, too.

Do you have any adages to share about spring? Please share them, if you do!

April Rocks: Put the Girls to Work

Don't just stand there, get to work!

When we moved to Schoolhouse Rocks, I coined a new name for what I did in the yard: Restoration Gardening.

That's what you do when you inherit a garden with a lot of history and a few years of benign neglect.

I discovered asparagus in one area, some beautiful roses in another. I unearthed what was once a lovely natural stone walkway to a traditional rose garden (roses long gone, for the most part). In September of our first year, a flash of red caught my eye and I traced it to some long-lost autumn bearing raspberries that had been hanging on for years.

Then I tried to transplant the roses and discovered the thick layer of gravel lying under 10 centimetres of topsoil.

Impossible to dig through, yet right where I wanted a perennial bed. What was a gardener to do?

Not yet a focal point... wait for it.

When I saw the wonderful pile of straw and rotted manure the chickens had created in their winter enclosure, I had a thought: let the girls make the garden!

So we moved the coop and the enclosure to where I wanted the new garden and gave the ladies their orders. Scratch. Dig. Poop. Make a mess. Enjoy.

In other words, do what you do.

My job will be to toss in cut straw and compost and let the whole thing build up. The end result will (hopefully) be a raised bed that I can plant up. When it's done, the girls will be moved to the other side of the future walkway.

I, too, have some doubts.

I'll report back in a couple of months. Fingers crossed!

Cold frame: success!

The cold frame is wonderful! Arugula, radish, rapini and mache are growing, and I've hardened off some rapini and brocolli I started in the house. The coir pots will get slit (the packaging says they can be planted as is, but I like to give the wee roots as much help as possible) and placed into the vegetable garden. I'll keep an eye on the nighttime temperatures and stick a cloche over the young plants if it gets too cold.

Photo Credit

I have also used plastic bottles to make a small greenhouse by cutting the bottom off the bottle, putting it upright in the ground, and removing the cap for ventilation. Not pretty, but cheap!

Speaking of cheap....

A couple of years ago I bought some white plastic markers for the garden. They were inexpensive, durable and easy. Somehow, though, a lot went missing over the winter and I had nothing with which to mark my spring plantings. I put my eldest to work and he made me these stakes from branches pruned from the apple tree. Aren't they gorgeous? To make matters even better, I JUST saw the chamomile sprouting in the path at the back of the picture. It's self-seeding, bless its tiny tea-licious heart.

April Rocks: The Strolling Garden

For full map, click this link.

It's so close I can barely contain myself. The Last Frost Date for Schoolhouse Rocks is April 21, and Sunday night when I went out to close in the chickens, I heard my first spring peeper. In spite of snow being forecast for this week, I know we've broken the back of winter and gardening season is well under way!

asknature.org

As tempting as the garden centre is with its displays of pansies and just-a-bit-too-early perennials, I am continuing to practise restraint. Spring is a wonderful time to work on the hardscaping of your garden. The blackflies have yet to make an appearance, the mosquitoes are still stumbling about their kitchens waiting for the coffee to be done, and the plants are still safely tucked into bed. At Schoolhouse Rocks, I finally figured out what to do with a problem area in the yard.

The problem area is planted with mature trees (spruce, yew, maple, birch, poplar), but underplanted with myrtle, common daylilies, goldenrod, pachysandra and another ground cover which wants to move into my house. The problem is that it's so dense it defies anyone who wants to meander through it. It had become my habit to stand at the edge of the space with my weedwacker in hand and weep.

Lacking heavy equipment, I needed some inspiration:

You need to read this book by Evelyn Hadden (Timber Press, 2012)

What I needed to do, I realised as I read Ms. Hadden's lovely book, was to stop thinking of it as a mess, and starts thinking of it as a garden in need of some understanding. And a shovel. And some rocks. A lot of rocks. Hey, use what you've got.

The entrance to the *NEW* Strolling Garden

The problem area needed something to draw you in, and while getting rid of the extraordinarily healthy ground cover is never going to happen in my lifetime, a narrow, winding path is easy for me to keep tidy.

A bench for reading and dreaming.

 Initially, I used a rake to mark where the path should go. After the first bend, I went straight down the slope, but standing back I saw that it was all wrong. Never take a straight path through a garden: the trip is over too quickly. So I added another bend and discovered I had also found a perfect place to put a bench. That gigantic pile of mulch I introduced you to in March still has plenty in it to cover the path.

So now I have a no-mow garden, which I can brighten up with some early bulbs (late ones will never be seen through the daylilies) and some shade-happy shrubs. I will add some hostas and other low-growing perennials to drape languidly over the path, and perhaps experiment with clematis and a few lovely stumps that need dressing up for the summer.

Now for tea and another read-through of that book. I still have half an acre to decide how not to mow.

*More and more homeowners and gardeners are opting for eco-friendly lawn options. Traditional lawns waste water and require fertilisers and pesticides that harm everything they touch. My 'go with what grows' philosophy of gardening turns out not to be laziness at all! For more information, please visit Less Lawn, or the  Lawn Reform Coalition. Another exciting project is the Edible Garden Project, which promotes replacing front yards with front gardens. Check out their inspiring ideas!

March Rocks!

Ah, spring. The birds, the bulbs, the buds.

The mud.

Desperate as I am to muck in, until I can step on the grass without sinking in up to my knees, I promise to stay off the garden. Anything I might do would be nothing but damage.

Not that there isn't chores to be done:

 The sap is still flowing! We had a few nice days in February, and then everything ground to a halt. Since March Break, however, we can barely keep on top of it. Once the spring peepers start singing, however, it's time to stop. The sap quickly becomes 'buddy' and isn't good for syrup. Still good for the tree, though. Be careful not to over-tap or you will stress the tree.

 This is not for everyone, but I do the first bit of boiling down on the stove. As soon as the sap turns to amber, I move it outside. A lot of people don't want the steam in the house and worry about surfaces getting sticky. I either don't care or don't notice. A friend of mine boils her sap down on the BBQ. We used to use a petrol stove of my husband's until it spontaneously combusted. It was great, so we'll look into replacing it.

 There was a massive, wet snowfall late this winter and the trees have taken a beating. This cedar is still pretty splayed. I'll tie it upright and hope it recovers.

Some branches came off the larger spruces in that snow. I'll strip them down and use them for stakes in the garden, then trim the 'split ends' on the trees themselves to ensure they heal properly.

 Maybe I should also take the Christmas lights down.

 Spring is a good time to prune. As a general rule, cut back any branches that are growing inwards, and cut any that cross another (to prevent rubbing). However, spring-blooming plants like lilac and this forsythia should not be pruned until after they are finished flowering. They bloom on wood that grew last year, so if you cut it away, no flowers! Don't take away more than a quarter of the plant in a single year.

Clean out your artificial pond. Some people drain theirs entirely and refill it. I am far too lazy for that. I'll scoop out as much guck as I can (gleefully anticipating the frog carcasses...not really. No matter how many frogs I cart off to the stream in the fall, some always try to overwinter here. They never make it), and put fresh water in at the top. With straining and adding fresh water over the next few days, and keeping the pump running, it cleans up very well.

Clean the BBQ. Not my favourite job, but as eating BBQ is one of my favourite things, it has to be done. Today, in fact. Hamburgers are on the menu tonight.

I managed to curb my enthusiasm and began my first seeds over March Break (slow starters like basil, parsley, eggplant; early-outs like rapini, kale). Here some broccoli is feeling brave. I love how they wave their wee tiny hands in the air like that.

Don't forget to notice the early risers. I love the way these snowdrops poke their heads out through the snow. In some south-facing yards, especially up against warm walls, daffodils are up 6 inches or more! Given a bit of sun, I know a crocus or two who will be opening their flowers. Take some time to enjoy them.

 THEN clean out the chicken coop.

After which it will be time for a cup of tea and a sit-down with a good book. April is coming.

February Rocks

I am looking at my handy dandy Week-by-Week Vegetable Gardener’s Handbook. I bought it because it said it was good for all gardeners, no matter which zone you live in. I don’t know about you other Zone 6-ers (and less) out there, but it breaks my heart to read things like: sow peas in February, as soon as soil can be worked. 

by Ron Kujawski and Jennifer Kujawski

This book is lovely. It organizes chores so many weeks before average date of last frost, or so many weeks after average date of last frost. So, around here the average frost free date being April 21, then 14-10 weeks before last frost is about right now, and that, my friends, is good news at Schoolhouse Rocks.

I am overeager, you see, and every year I get my seed trays lined up on the dining room window sill on or about the day after Christmas. By the time the weather has warmed enough to put the tomatoes out, they’ve grown so weak and leggy that they keel over the minute they tell me they’re hardened off.

Last year I vowed to be strong, but on February 9, 2012, the daffodils were up 3 centimetres! Leaves were budding on the climbing hydrangea! The crowns of the rudbekia and digitalis were green and the hellebores had been there, done that. My seeds had been started before the end of January.

Then it got cold in March and my tomatoes kicked the bucket as soon as they’d hardened off. The peas were barely worth mentioning.

So this year, fellow gardeners and armchairers, I will be strong! I WENT to Willem Dam Seeds, I GOT the catalogue, and I WALKED OUT without purchasing a thing.

My son was waiting in the car with a paper bag and some smelling salts, just in case.

In fairness, there are some plants – the slow-starters – which could safely be started now. Parsley, for example, is slow to get going, as is thyme. For huge transplants of leek and sweet onions (started from seed), go right ahead. They’ll deal with cooler spring gardens.

But the countdown is definitely on. While I have succumbed to forcing garlic bulbs in the kitchen window for some early greens, the rest of my seeds are staying put until the beginning of March. In the meantime, my Handbook suggests knocking together a cold frame to while away the time, and I just happen to have some old frames stored in the garage for just this kind of emergency.

Check out this one by Domenique at Instructables.com

This is from Robin at Rurification.

And from It's a Smalltown Life

More from Living Lighter on the Land

January Rocks

"She is OUT OF HER MIND."

If you're hovering around the same climate as I am, I know that's just what you're thinking. What, pray tell, do gardens and January have to do with one another?

Try to get dirty. I dare you.

Fear not, my intrepid companion. Follow these few easy tips and you, too, will forget to cross off the days until your Frost Free date.

1. Take Advantage: After the first snowfall and much tobogganing, temperatures in southern Ontario leapt to a heady 14 degrees C! Having accosted the nice people at Ontario Hydro in October, I have a pile of mulch in my driveway the size of Downton Abbey. As it has thawed, I spent the weekend moving it out onto the perennial beds. I got two whole days ahead on my spring jobs this weekend, with not a black fly in sight. Heh.

I don't worry about the plants under all this. They'll pop up.

2. Clean Up: The pond especially seems to attract debris and there is always some tragedy in the water. Clean out the debris, scoop the dead leaves out and arrange tiny funerals for the fish, frogs and slugs (?!) that did not live to ring in the new year. It's gross, but you'd much rather do it now while everything is so... preserved rather than wait until the water heats up.

My artificial pond is not a good place for frogs to over-winter.

3. Read Up: Like I need an excuse. I keep going back to my old favourite: The Kitchen Garden by Patrick Lima, which I love because his garden is one zone colder than mine (I'm a 6b). There's nothing more frustrating than reading a book which tells me that in February I should be digging compost and well-rotted manure into the soil. Right. I'm frozen solid until the end of March, if I'm lucky. As for new books this year: Free Range Chicken Gardens by Jessi Bloom, which promises me IT IS POSSIBLE, and Shakespeare in the Garden by Mick Hales, which is beautiful and quotes the Bard. Tea, anyone?

One tip: hire a professional photographer.

4. Save Up: In another week or so, those siren-mouthed devils of the mailbox will begin appearing. I'm talking about Seed Catalogues. Plan now. Go through your stash from last year and make a note of what you have on hand. Look at your notes from last year. What succeeded in the garden and what made you weep with frustration? Look at your garden plan for this year: how much space can you shave out of the lawn before anyone notices? Calculate your square footage, multiply by 487, subtract the square root of the seed packets you have on hand, add 1934 (tears cried in 2012) and that is roughly how much seed you will need to buy for 2013. This is a very scientific number and must be adhered to. Start saving now. I figure if I stop giving my kids their allowance, I'll have last years' seed bill paid off in 2054.

5. Drink Up: Once the above is done, it's full wait ahead for Spring. Now might be the time to actually try some of those herbs you lovingly collected and dried at the end of last summer. Today's tea of choice: mint, sage and calendula flower. Perfect.

What promise is your garden keeping for you?