Herb Garden
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2005-'06 Newsletter
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Karen's letter to Fellow Gardeners
As many of you know, I’ve taken a year’s sabbatical from publishing the newsletter. It wasn’t a planned event, but sometimes the deaths of loved ones (both people and pets) in your life make you feel that the wall has become too high to climb. I generated a fairly steady stream of newsletters since that first winter issue of ’93-94, and finally, took a much-needed break. Thanks to all of you who called, emailed or snail-mailed to ask, “What’s up?” I appreciate you all (ya’ll) so much.
So to catch you up, here’s a bit of what I was thinking about…but didn’t publish. I still wrote you notes…I just didn’t finish all of the things that I started. I’m sure that none of you would ever do such a thing…
Spring ’05…Although the ’05 March winds put forth great effort in trying to blow the nursery from atop its tiny knoll, it was the first weekend in April that shocked us. Two days of enduring gusts were, unfortunately, both strong enough and long enough to leave us minus some of our larger trees. The 50’ hemlock in back was the one that I hated losing the most. Past pups spent many happy years beneath its wide spreading boughs, and it offered a haven for lots of wildlife in the nursery.
Fortunately, nothing hit the house, and there was minimal plant damage (hard to believe that they still have leaves!), and our remaining animals…cats, dogs and parrots…are fine.
Now in late April, as I watch some random snowflakes passing with the winds, I’m really unsure what season it is. Some days I’m not sure that spring actually arrived. If we continue to have the torrential rainstorms, I’ll have to resurrect my adapted spring class plan from a few years ago. For more info about the High Diving Class to be held in the back water garden, check out the new funny page where I will post crazy jokes or funny happenings. When you work with nature, there’s always something!
Summer ’05…Are you as surprised as I, that summer is here? Our uncertain spring left us wondering. First time in my life that I remember turning on heat in June (2nd). Four days later, it was 90°. And our government doesn’t believe in the problems of global warming. Oops…don’t go crazy. I’m a die-hard independent.
We finally had rain two days ago. At first light the next morning, sparrows, robins, jays, and others flitted about the grounds to yank earthworms from the rain-softened earth. I was comforted by the knowledge that their feast wasn’t poisoned by chemicals.
Our lack of spraying occasionally does temporary damage to the plants, but the wildlife continues to flourish. They certainly need to flourish somewhere. I’m not interested in being another ‘Silent Spring’ nursery…we have too much of that in our world already.
Current Winter ’05-06…During the last two years, we’ve made many changes in the nursery. Some are visible, and others; well, we’re struggling to hide the evidence. When you churn your way across your property from front to back, then side-to-side with a trencher, I’ve discovered that it makes a big ol’ mess. As all of my NC gardeners know, red mud ventures a long way into directions that you don’t want it to.
This past week, we’ve had to have a number of our very old pines cut due to slow death by old age and the occasional assistance (insistence?) of Mother Nature.
The upshot of all this is a new look at Foothills Nursery. We’re still trying to decide exactly what that’s going to be, so you’ll just have to venture out and explore us anew in the coming year! We’ll have lots of unusual and “just plain odd” plants for you to cart home as “that gardening character” in your neighborhood. Until then,
Happy Gardening,
Karen
Welcome Wilbur and Orville when you come to visit.
A Year to be Horn...beamy
A neglected group of trees in the very back corner of the nursery (we used to call this area ‘Death Row’) struggled along valiantly for several years. Cramped roots escaped from drainage holes to seek nurturing from Mother Earth, since no one here ever gave them a second glance... or chance.
Trunks began to develop some girth (as many of us do with age), and limbs began to clamor by nook or crook for the sky…and suddenly, we noticed how beautiful they were.
It was the fall of ’04, when we realized that this little leper colony was now looking disdainfully down from the height and security of great beauty on many of our more popular trees. So, after the trees went dormant for winter, we performed the “dig, tug and pray for the best” maneuver.
Now, in the winter of ’06, we are fortunate to have a number of lovely American Hornbeams (Carpinus caroliniana), several Japanese Hornbeams (Carpinus japonica) and a few of the Korean Hornbeams(Carpinus coreana) and (Carpinus turczninovii ) that are demonstrating great tolerance for our attention after several years of neglect.
The American Hornbeam is a truly handsome native tree that develops a spreading, rounded crown and superb, smooth blue-gray bark along its crooked-muscled form. Known by many a Southerner as Ironwood, Blue Beech, Musclewood and Water Beech, it is found in areas ranging from Zones 3b to 9, and usually reaches about 35’. The extremely hard wood from this tree is still used to make mallets and golf clubs.
Highly adaptable, it performs as an understory tree for naturalizing, a garden specimen for the lover of outstanding bark and trunk form, and it can even tolerate flooding!
Fall color, however, is what often speaks to us from this tree. Hues that range from bright yellow to shades of orange and scarlet make this a native that shouts for our attention in autumn.
The Japanese Hornbeam is usually just a tad smaller at 25’-30’ and has a more arched, fan-shape to its canopy. Leaves are a bit narrower and the veins running throughout them appear so deeply impressed as to have been quilted into the lush green “fabric”. During the summer and autumn, this hornbeam has a showy “flower”. It looks like a long seed-bearing hops pod, and makes the tree appear to have been decorated. It is hardy from zones 4-8.
The Korean Hornbeam (coreana) has the distinction of being a much slower grower and is often used in bonsai. It develops a strong, drought-resistant root system and the trunk and branches seem to naturally contort and twist more than the other species that we grow. This form makes an excellent patio tree because of its highly ornamental character. Like the others, it develops super shades of fall colors, with a geometric effect on the leaves where venation is often a dramatically different color than that of the turning leaf.
Another Korean hornbeam (turczninovii) has very small leaves with a light red tinge to the new growth each spring. Also popular with bonsai enthusiasts, this is a hornbeam for the collector. Both of the Korean hornbeams are hardy from Zones 5-8.
Because we’ve been thrilled with our hornbeams tolerance of abuse and determination to thrive anyway, we are adding another species this year, the Looseflower Hornbeam (Carpinus laxiflora). Unusual drooping branches and strikingly smooth, grey-beige bark offers interesting patterns after 6-7 years. Small leaves are a glossy deep green that later offer up an orange-red fall color. The lengthy, pendulous “flower” promises to be among the showiest of those offered in our hornbeam collection. This one is hardy from zones 5-8.
Sometimes you prepare one recipe and later create something delicious with the remainder…this is one of those. The original recipe calls for the tuna to be served over an arugula salad. Since I didn’t have fresh arugula, I chose to sauté fresh spinach, onions, sun dried tomatoes and sweet red peppers in a dab of sesame oil to serve as a “bed” for my tuna.
Sesame Coated Tuna
Fresh tuna steaks or medallions (about 1 lb.)
1 Tbsp. Sesame oil mixed with
1 tsp. Rice vinegar
1/3 cup sesame seeds
Salt & Pepper
Preheat oven to 400°.
Brush tuna with sesame oil and rice vinegar. Dip into sesame seeds until coated on all sides. Place on a nonstick baking pan. Bake 10 minutes for rare or as preferred.
Sesame Tuna Salad
Refrigerate remaining tuna steak. Once cold, you should be able to chop or crumble the tuna. Add chopped celery (I used ˝ as much celery as tuna). Add just enough mayonnaise to blend. Add several drops of sesame oil. Salt and pepper to taste. Serve on favorite sandwich bread with sliced avocado. (I can’t wait to try this again when fresh herbs are available to add to the mix.)
Newsletter funny: A customer announced recently that she had “fixed” my last recipe.
Even though I’m a Southerner, I somehow misunderstood and asked, “What was wrong with it? What did you change?”
“Well, nothing,” she responded in a surprised German accent. “We thought it was great just like it was!”
(In Southernese, “fixed” means “prepared”.
Customers who’ve walked up on the far side of the nursery this winter have stopped in their tracks to gape in awe at the two 9’ Sparkleberry hollies whose stems seem to be dripping in bright red berries. “Wow!” is all they can manage. The exfoliating chalky bark of the Heritage River birch behind them only adds to the drama.
Deciduous hollies like the Sparkleberry (Ilex verticillata) are great for splashing the winter landscape with color. Hardy throughout the US, (zones 3-9), they are easy to grow and reliable under nearly all cultural conditions except soils of high pH.
Keep in mind that this plant, well, “It takes two to tango.” Although bland by comparison, a male is required in the vicinity for pollination.
As I worked over a tray of rosemary cuttings this morning, I marveled that the flavor of this frequently sought out herb remains one of my favorites. I never tire of the scent, and often toss handfuls of dried rosemary onto the fire in the woodstove or into a pot of hot water on top of the stove to release it’s fragrance.
Out in the herb garden, though woody and gnarled at its base, the evergreen rosemary spans elegantly across a 5 ˝’ space. It will have to be gently reminded with some pruning shears in the spring that we would like to be able to pass by on the path. I will wait, however, until after the bright blue blooms of late winter have faded from the spiky stems.
Although it receives north wind, our rosemary somehow continues to flourish as the centerpiece of the herb garden. Generally, it is recommended that rosemary be planted in full sun (at least 5 hours) in well-drained, limey soil. Since acidic red clay is our native gardening situation, this means working in a bit of soil conditioner, and compost materials.
Mediterranean herbs like rosemary, lavender and thyme prefer a pH of 5 to 7.5.
To raise the pH in our garden, we toss in a handful or so of lime (the actual
recommendation is 5 pounds of ground limestone per 100 square feet to increase
pH of soil by .5 to 1 point.) We also work in a little of the “turkey grit” that
is so readily available in Mount Airy. Mount Airy is home to the largest open
face granite quarry in the world.
Listed as hardy to Zone 7, many herb enthusiasts claim that certain varieties are more cold hardy than others. I have been happy with nearly all of the upright varieties, but find that the prostrate forms seldom winter over in my garden. Blue Spires is the form that has become so large, but we have had equal performances from both Salem and Arp cultivars.
Whatever your preference, there must be a rosemary for the herb garden to be complete. It’s a treasure that adds year-round color, fragrance and flavoring for foods.