Twelve years ago, I left behind a life and career in New York City to move full time to our farm in rural Bucks County, Pennsylvania, a new career, and a calmer, "greener" existence. Planting and gardening, animals and wildlife, building and repairing, harvesting and cooking, writing and lecturing, joy and contentment are all integral parts of this wonderful new existence. It has been a revelation to me, and one I would not only like to share with you but urge you towards. I look forward to your comments.

Saturday, May 19, 2007

I, personally, have been involved in a sizeable frenzy of bamboo construction: sizable both in terms of magnitude of structure and energy level. This year, I was determined to build some trellising for the tomatoes and some of the climbing beans and gourds that would place them in pendant, overhead positions in the garden, like the late and most assuredly great Rosemary Verey’s famous Labernum tunnel at Barnsley House in England.


What I have finally achieved are 3 square pergolas: one centering the main vegetable garden and the others centering each of the Siamese twin plots, one up a step from the other, in back of the chicken house. In each case, the pergola sits astride the crossing of the cruciform paths and is tall enough for me to walk under without stooping. Each has a peaked roof running to about ten feet tall, and is about six feet square.


The pair in the tomato gardens are each composed of four cylindrical bamboo columns eighteen inches in diameter and eight feet tall, rather like a quartet of immense tomato cages, which is, of course, what they’re meant to be. Resting on the shared inner circumferences of these is the square, peaked roof. My plan is to grow each of the eight columns with a single type of tomato, then let them all meet in the center to decorate the roof. I think I’ll also grow a couple of Caracalla Bean vines up each as a companion planting, which will provide a little late summer dazzle as well as a bit of green coverage when the tomato vines start looking rotty.



The one in the center of the main garden has quite an elaborate, almost fish scale looking roof treatment I constructed out of bamboo edging hoops. These I had purchased in massive quantity to make an overlapping edging for some of our island beds, an effect I absolutely detested. However, they turned out to be perfect for adding architectural interest to and providing tensile cross-bracing for these large-scale bamboo structures, which just goes to show you that the worm can turn nicely when it wants. Also, do use “zip-tie” rather than twine or waxed string to make your joins: their supremely tight grip will make the structure substantially more sound.



I’m planning on growing that pergola with Sun Bright Runner Bean, a new variety from Thompson & Morgan which has yellow foliage and brilliant scarlet blossoms, and Malabar Spinach, with its handsome reds stems, tiny pink blossoms and succulent green leaves. It should be quite a happy pairing. To be brutally honest, Runner Beans as edible “green beans” are never as tasty and tender as your basic Blue Lake or Fin De Bagnol or Kwintus varieties, but their blossoms make up for everything, and they’re excellent for drying, shelling, and using during the winter.

Friday, May 11, 2007

This month, as in all Mays, we are in positive swivet of activity, from reseeding the lawns to amending the planting beds to coaxing along countless trays of seedlings destined for glory in the ground in what will now be a matter of weeks if not days. Despite what seems to be an abnormally high pollen count, which makes me rather dopey, it’s been blissful work as spring beauty abounds.

The reseeding of the lawns just turned the corner form tedious to triumphant as we’ve started to rake up the hay we scattered over the reseeded lawns two weeks ago. This year, this was a major project, especially on the slope above our largest pond, which the ducks and geese use as their marching ground when they are not “flap-running” down it into the pond, wings and feet slapping the air, with our young hound Chester in playful pursuit.


At any rate, this large area had seen so much use that it was virtually bald, with the roots of the trees poking like knees and elbows through the ground. We had to haul in a truckload of topsoil first, rake it over the offending limbs, then seed, then top it all off with a good mulching of hay, not only to help keep the seeds damp but to prevent the geese from eating them. Today, two weeks later, we started raking up the hay and, mirabile dictu, there was the yearned-for, lush carpet of green, which I thought fairly instant on the gratification scale.


Now is also the time you should be eyeballing your perennial beds with an eye to editing the sprawlers and filling in the blanks. Start making a list in preparation for the frost date (May 15th), always remembering that a cluster of three or five of any given cultivar will always be more effective (and instantly gratifying) than the lonely single specimen.


And, finally, I’d like to dedicate this column to the memory of our dear dog Casper, who we had to put to sleep 5 years ago this month. In moments of contemplation, I go and sit with him on the hill above the summer borders, where we buried him. This is infinitely calming to me. Although we are fortunate to have the new and much loved presences of our most recent SPCA adoptees Zack and Chester, I still do not garden a day without wishing Casper were there beside me.

Monday, May 7, 2007

Right now is the blissful time of the bulbs and azaleas here on the farm: blue bells, Leucojum aestivum (Gravetye Giant), thousands of daffodils and narcissi, and the vibrant Muscari 'Valerie Finnis' and armeniacum. The lily of the valley are just starting, with the may apples leafing the woods and the fruit trees flinging their pastel petals about like confetti. And, of course, the dogwoods flitting through the trees like the most wonderful and elegant of ghosts. You wonder if you really need summer at times like this.


Our frost date here in Pennsylvania is May 15th, although I am always tempted to rush the season a little. However, one important thing we are doing right now in preparation for it, and something you should be considering as well, is getting out your saws and shears and, finally, getting rid of all the winter-kill and shaggy-headedness of your trees and shrubs and roses and vines before the growing season starts to overtake you. Tie up the climbers, too, while you’re at it. This week I sheered the tops of the Euonymous around the lily and cutting gardens ('Silver King' and 'Golden Queen' respectively, both wonderful variegated varieties that really add visual punch to a border in a green landscape), as well as the Lonicera Bagusson’s Gold that surrounds the two most visually prominent beds in the vegetable garden.



It really pays to crisp up things like edging and hedges at this time of year. Top your beds off with a nice mulching around the perennials and the place looks quite spiff, whether there’s a blossom in sight or not!