The Somervell County Master Gardeners would like to extend a heart felt thank you for a very successful 2022 Spring Plant Sale.  Even before the day of the sale, the local merchants were so generous to allow us to post flyers advertising our event.  Thank you so much!  We are also very grateful to the Glen Rose Methodist Church for allowing us to transform their parking lot into a plant nursery for the day!  It is said the most important thing when trying to sell is location, location, location, and we had the best!   A huge thank you to the Somervell County Sheriffs who spent time the night before the sale patrolling the site and ensuring everything, including some of our members, were safe and undisturbed.  Hats off to you!  If you attended the sale you were sure to notice the excellent service of the Somervell County 4-H kids.  They gave up some of their free time to assist the Master Gardeners and the shoppers.  You all went above and beyond, and we were so happy to hear so much positive feedback!  Of course, great kids come from great families and leaders, so thank you to Jana Reynolds and the 4-H families.  You have reason to be proud.  We were also fortunate to have help and support from two of Tarrant County’s finest Master Gardeners, Margaret Shuping and Avice Ward, who worked the “Ask a Master Gardener” booth.  And, last but certainly not least a big SCMG thank you to our customers!  We hope you enjoyed the morning as much as we did.

Stumperies

Tessa Ownbey

 

Somervell County Master Gardener

 

 

 

 

I am a big fan of “down-and-dead.”  And not just on TV!  No, I am using the term as a naturalist would, referring to fallen logs, branches, leaves, and detritus of all kinds.  I love a good snag, as well.  What a wellspring of life a snag is!  So, it should come as no surprise that my garden sports a stumpery.

 

The Victorians were a creative bunch.  From them we get such things as Paris Green, jewelry made of living insects which wandered around women’s dresses with jewels glued to their backs, hair bracelets, stuffed birds and feathers in hats, volumes A and B of the first Oxford English Dictionary, cemetery picnics, seaweed scrapbooking, anthropomorphic taxidermy, diatom arranging, beetling, the language of flowers, terrariums (originally called Wardian cases, after their creator, Nathaniel Bagshaw Ward), croquet… and stumperies.

 

The first known stumpery was created in 1856 by artist and gardener Edward William Cooke.  He saw a pile of debris  from land clearing and rather than finding a way to dispose of it, instead artfully arranged it and planted ferns, the collecting of which was the current Victorian trend du jour.  Apparently, stumperies are currently enjoying a resurgence, so my little tumble of debris is “on point,” or whatever the current synonym for “on point” is.

 

A stumpery is built like a rock garden.  Instead of rocks, we use logs, stumps, and fallen limbs.  The point of my particular stumpery is to encourage the insects that utilize “down-and-dead,” and in particular, the native bees and wasps which use chambers in wood to lay their eggs.  (Many more use holes in the ground, and of course I also have areas for that elsewhere.)  These bees and wasps, as adults, then pollinate my garden.  Stumperies are incredibly advantageous to gardeners!

 

Creating my stumpery was simple.  When I erected the deer fence around my “official” gardening area, in my mind I envisioned my very organized vegetable garden to the east and my very informal pollinator wildscape to the west.  On the west side of the garden there happened to be a snag about six feet tall, surrounded by some of the debris from its decomposition:  another section of trunk and many branches.  These I piled up in a way that was pleasing to my eye.  I’d like to claim I piled them artistically, but I don’t think I can go that far.

 

Then, I mapped out where my meandering pathways would travel through the wildscape.  I edged all these pathways with limestone leftover from digging the foundation of the house.  This left me with several rock-bordered planting areas, one of which included the snag and debris.

 

In the years since, I have added plantings.  My stumpery sports Gregg’s Mistflower, Autumn Sage, Giant Salvia, Mexican Petunias, Black-Eyed Susans, Mexican Hats, Flame Acanthus and a Blind Prickly Pear.    I have even added another tree stump, which I found back in my woods.  It has a fantastical shape, and reminded me of a fairy castle.  And so, my stumpery now includes a fairy garden at one end.  If you sneak up on me on the right day, you are apt to find me furtively (because I am a grownup, for God’s sake, and feel guilty about playing dolls) making and/or arranging fairy dolls and accessories for it.

 

As one does, each year I change or improve something in my stumpery.  Although I try to stick to native plants, a couple of years ago I came across Giant Alliums at the Ace Hardware in Stephenville.  They don’t seem to overwinter well, but I love their fantastical proportions, huge purpley-blue orbs hovering above the stumps like bubbles blown from a child’s bubble wand and floating away on the breeze.  Because I have struggled with getting any kind of groundcover to grow around the fairy garden area, which is under a juniper tree, this year I have planted some low-growing succulents there.  Wish me luck!  Yesterday, at Laurie’s Garden in Whitney (which is for sale, if any of you are interested in purchasing it) I found a package of Bunny Tail seeds.  Seems like a great addition to the Fairy Garden end of the Stumpery, so in they will go.  Despite the failures I have experienced in that small area of ground, hope still springs eternal that they will grow.  Minus the rest of the rabbit.

 

One of the most rewarding parts of having a stumpery is watching the life in it.  Each spring I witness the ants’ mating swarm.  It is absolutely magical; hundreds of winged drones pouring out of the wood, taking flight with the sunlight glittering on their wings as each of them gracefully and determinedly seeks out the elusive queen.  While winged, ants are called alates, from the Latin word ala, meaning “wing.”  It is specifically used by entomologists for insects which have both winged and wingless forms, such as ants, bees and termites.  If you want to watch one of these swarms, the best time to experience it is a day or two after a heavy spring or summer rainfall. Sometimes enough ant colonies synchronize their mating flights that it shows up on weather radar; this type of day is informally called “flying ant day.”  Entomologists are practical in their use of language.

 

I often sit and watch the wasps lay their eggs in the holes in the snag. Sometimes they use holes already available, and other times they create new holes.  I watch intently as a female lands on the lip of the hole, enters, and moments later peeks her head out to check for predators, then hurriedly flies off only to return moments later and repeat the process.  Although I have often observed the ground-nesting wasps paralyze prey and drag it into their holes, I have not observed that yet in these wood dwellers.  So I continue to watch.

 

Last year, an armadillo had an entrance hole hidden under the pile of branches in my stumpery.  He slept peacefully, under the garden, wreaking destruction every night, while each morning I tried shoring up my fence to keep him out.  All the while, he was dreaming peacefully INSIDE my stumpery while I worked so hard to fence him out.  It took me longer than it should have to figure this out.   He now resides several miles up the road.  While I love observing and interacting with the rest of the armadillos which live abundantly on my property,  and  while they are wonderful at insect control and aerating the soil, they also fancy gourd and squash seeds, and will dig up and devour them as fast as I can plant them.  And their curiosity insists that they closely inspect any new plantings, usually uprooting them in the process.  It was a tough time in my life as a gardener while I figured that armadillo out.

 

Because of the plantings in the stumpery, it is also a place to observe the antics of hummingbirds, dragonflies, and many other winged creatures, as well as the creatures that prey upon them.  It is, in fact, one of the most active, yet peaceful parts of my garden, and the entertainment and suspense it has provided me rivals any of the “shoot-‘em-ups” my husband and I enjoy on winter evenings indoors.  Down-and-dead:  a gardener’s (or Victorian’s) best investment for his/her entertainment dollar.  Although I might also try that anthropomorphic taxidermy soon…

https://txmg.org/somervell/news/110113

Join us for our next Community Horticulture Education Series (CHES) program, Plant Propagation Training and Workshop, on Monday, March 21, 2022, at 6:30pm at the Somervell County Citizen Center, 209 SW Barnard, Glen Rose. Our own Monty Anderson will be teaching one of the most successful techniques of plant propagation, using stem cuttings. Propagation from cuttings allows you to add additional desirable plants to your landscape at very little expense. The resulting plant will be a copy or clone of the mother plant with all its characteristics. Monty will be demonstrating this very simple technique and then you will have the opportunity to prepare and take home your very own cutting! If you have a plant you would like to clone, or can get one from a friend, please bring a good size stem cutting (3- to 6-inch-long piece from a healthy portion of the parent plant’s stem) and a clean 4” pot. We will have some cuttings, all materials, and pots available if you’d like to use and take home one of ours!!

Monty Anderson recently transferred to Somervell County Master Gardeners from Tarrant County Master Gardener Association. Retiring after 38 years with Bell Helicopter, Monty certified as a Texas Master Gardener in 2016 and is a Certified Plant Propagation Specialist and Master Composter.

 

If we had no winter, the spring would not be so pleasant; if we did not sometimes taste of adversity, prosperity would not be so welcome.

Josh Billings (1818-1885)

 

 

A new year and time to start thinking about and planning for the garden.  The seed catalogues are filling mail boxes.  Oh how pretty the pictures of the plants look.  Just perfect in every way.  Truth be known, not everyone has picture perfect results from their garden.  Not all soil nor gardeners are created equal!

Corn: The number of sweet corn varieties that will do well in the South have increased significantly in the last few years.  Historically, the primary area for growing corn is in the Midwest and Northeast, and sweet corn genetics have tended to emphasize varieties that will do well in those areas.  Unfortunately, many of these varieties do not like southern growing conditions and will do very poorly in the South.  Plants are sometimes stunted, and, more importantly, ear size is much smaller.  Some that are adapted to southern conditions are: Kandy Korn, Bodacious, Silver Queen, and G90.

Southern Peas: Nutritionally, Southern peas are a good source of protein and one of the best sources of dietary fiber available.  They are very high in folates, a form of B vitamin that in important in the prevention of anemia, cancer, and birth defects.   Southern peas love heat and should not be planted until all danger of frost has passed.  Good choices are: Crowder peas, Purple Hull, Cream peas, and Black-eyed peas.  

Beets: Beets are high in soluble fiber, vitamins A and C, and have more iron than spinach.  A real “Super Vegetable,” beets are high in calcium, potassium, phosphorus, niacin, folic acid, and cancer preventing antioxidants.  Beets grow best in cool weather.  Sow seeds as early as soil can be worked in spring, or 8-12 weeks before frost for a fall crop.  Beets do not like to dry out.  To keep them tender, water regularly and/or mulch to retain moisture.  Detroit Red is a good choice.

Green Beans: Though not always green, these long and slender beans are an American garden staple.  High in vitamins and packed with dietary fiber, cancer preventing antioxidants, and omega3 fatty acids.  Green beans don’t get the publicity they should.  Hardly ever on a list of trendy super foods, they are one of the healthiest vegetables you can eat.  Plus, one cup of green beans contains only 44 calories.

An often overlooked way to grow green beans is to plant abut 75 days before the first frost in the fall.  Many insects begin to hibernate as the days shorten, so there is less insect pressure.  Also, it is great to pick fresh beans after the hottest days of summer have passed.  Contenders Blue Lake, Top Crop Bush Beans, and Roma Bush Beans are good choices. 

Okra: With no serious disease or insect problems, okra thrives in hot weather and can grow in just about any soil.  Most varieties should be picked when pods are not more than 4″ long-over 4″ and most okra (including widely grown Clemson Spineless) become tough and stringy.  Whether boiled, fried, or used in stews, casseroles, and gumbo (gumbo just isn’t gumbo without okra), this veggie is loaded with cancer fighting flavonoids.  Freeze seed or soak in warm water to break the hard seed coat and improve germination before planting. 

Carrots: Not only are carrots high in vitamin A, they are also high in beneficial carotenes and lycopenes. Today’s hybrid carrots contain 75% more beta carotene than those available just 35 years ago.  Plus, the new hybrids are also the best choice if you are looking for sweet crisp flavors, straight, long roots, and improved disease resistance.  Many of the older open pollinated carrots are high in terpenoids which can give them a bitter chemical-like flavor.  Tender Sweet and Danvers Half Long are good choices. 

Tomatoes: Tomatoes love heat and don’t really get going until temperatures regularly reach the 80s.  Many gardeners plant tomato seed directly into their garden soil.  Most tomato seeds germinate like weeds.  Try this, it’s a lot less work and cost.

Summer and fall plantings are best made using varieties that are bred to tolerate high heat, set temperatures, and still set fruit.  For most varieties of tomatoes, when temperatures are too high (over 95 degree daytime highs or above 77 degree night time lows) tomatoes will not set fruit.

Blight and other diseases can be devastating for tomatoes.  A wonderful advantage of fall is disease pressure is normally lower.

Heirloom tomato varieties are experiencing a surge in popularity.  Varieties like Beefsteak, Brandy-wine, and Cherokee Purple, are renowned and can be fun to grow, but beware of counting on them for a main crop.  Most heirloom varieties are susceptible to multiple diseases and don’t do very well.  Try with caution. 

Marigolds are a natural pest deterrent and make a pretty companion plant for tomatoes. 

 

 

By

Tessa Chenoa Ownbey

“From December to March there are for many of us, three gardens – the garden outdoors, the garden of pots and bowls in the house, and the garden of the mind’s eye.” -Katherine S. White

Dreaming of spring, I wander through my garden, admiring the dead stalks -some still standing straight and firm, others folded over onto the ground like hunched old men – that I left there for the use of native bees. Those stalks I had to pull – the sunflower stalks in the way of the mower, for instance – are laid gently beside my “lazy man” compost pile. I imagine the chance of each stalk being laden with tiny developing native bees, turning over in their sleep, pulling the covers up around their chins against the cold. I wonder if their feet are cold like mine. I curl my collar up around my chin.

The paths through my vegetable beds are straight, all 90 degree angles, beds exactly 8’ x 4’, not including the 2’ beds that run the length of the deer fence, and the beds that are holey and abandoned water troughs, dragged home from wherever I can scavenge them. The cilantro and bunching onions are green and welcoming; the rosemary smells just as sweet as ever as I brush my hand across and through it. I love that smell, and think of planting more of it – maybe a border along the back porch? Then I imagine Olive, my young Labrador pup, yanking each one out of the ground, and decide perhaps to wait another year. I love both animals and plants, and sometimes it is hard to hold space for each – both in the physical and in my heart. They compete so. My chickens, for instance, were banished to Georgette’s house years ago for the sin of plucking every young plant I sowed in the driveway flower bed faster than I could buy them. But the dogs – dogs trump plants today. The rosemary will stay in the garden, and the cottage style backyard of my dreams will wait until this pup matures.

Having walked the vegetable garden and inspected the dead stalks, the bright winter rosettes burgeoning with life, and the herbs and carrots waiting to be harvested, imagining the rotation of crops this spring, I walk the twisting path of my pollinator wildscape, delineated by native limestone I set in place myself, the work back-breaking, but as satisfying as a jigsaw puzzle, each rock edge set neatly against the one next to it, just so. I realize I left the fairy toys lying about the stumpery again this year, and resolve to go get a box and store things away again so winter won’t fade the spots from the fairy giraffe or decay the glue that holds on his fairy wings.

More dead stalks here, of course, and I again think of the bees, then check my bee houses. Last year’s slots are empty, with holes chewed through the packed mud where the bright, new bees emerged to see the sun for the very first time last spring. This year’s slots are still hard packed, the mud smooth and tight. I think again of infant bees, swaddled as we swaddle human babies. I imagine them humming contentedly in their sleep.

Shivering, I walk to my husband’s shop, quickly checking my Meyer lemon tree, overwintering there alongside an antique Radio Flyer full of potted succulents. My house is small, and though I was able to bring in three pots of aloe vera and a fairy garden in a hypertufa pot I made with Bev, these had to take refuge out here, where I hope they will stay warm enough to last until the warmth of spring. Some kind of caterpillar has lunched upon the lemon leaves, but is now long gone – the bitten edges are brown, not newly green. I’m glad I didn’t catch him. I would have had to decide his fate, and who wants that?

Truly cold now, I run back to the house – I knew I should have taken a jacket, but never want to take the time to grab one – there in the kitchen is the fairy garden I was thinking about. It always makes me smile…the little house, just fairy sized; the succulents so carefully chosen; the memories of figuring out hypertufa with Bev and of including in it the marbles left from my sons’ childhood.

The mail is laid on the counter, and I pause. There is my uncle’s catalog – Territorial Seed. I turn and hit the button on the Keurig, grab a notebook, a pen, the catalog, a blanket, and curl up in a corner of the couch to plan my seed order.


Note: Katherine S. White (see quote above) was a writer and the fiction editor of The New Yorker Magazine from 1920-1960. As such, she introduced the world to the writings of Vladimir Nabakov, John Updike, John O’Hara, John Cheever, Ogden Nash, Mary McCarthy, James Thurber, Marianne Moore, and E. B. White, who she later married. She had a passion for the writings of nurserymen and seed catalogs, which she claimed were her favorite reading matter. Inspired by them, she wrote a series of fourteen columns on gardening and gardening history for the magazine. After her death in 1977, her husband, author E.B. White, published these articles as a collection in a book called Onward and Upward in the Garden.