For now, the plants are out there in the midst of my Kansas prairie, protected as best I can from critters and drought. They'll have to do the rest!
Though an old gardener, I am but a young blogger. The humor and added alliteration are free.
Showing posts with label Blackberries. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Blackberries. Show all posts
Saturday, August 2, 2025
Blackberry Beginnings
ProfessorRoush received an unusual offer a couple of weeks back; an offer via email from Tom Doyle himself to grow and promote Doyle's Thornless Blackberry™ plants. Specifically, Mr. Doyle offered some free plants and a host of other inducements in exchange for a few blogs on the blackberries' performance, including a 10% commission on sales directed to his nursery. As you know, what I share on this blog is written for my own enjoyment and I've declined Google Ads on the blog and don't look to make money off of its viewers, so I turned down his offer of income from sales. I was, however, intrigued by his description of the vigor and high yield of the patented blackberry plants, and flattered by his awareness of Garden Musings, so after a little negotiation Tom did send the plants and other gifts, and I'll be writing a few blogs over a couple of years to tell you my experiences with them.The Doyle Blackberries are from a small, family-owned blackberry nursery in Washington, Indiana, and, small nursery or not, I've got to give the Doyle's credit for reaching out into the social media world for marketing. The original Thomas Doyle passed in 2001 at over 100 years old, so I presume the individual contacting me is his son, Thomas E. Doyle, Junior, carrying on the family business. In the fifteen or so years I've been blogging, only one other firm has offered any item for evaluation and, while I recognize Garden Musings isn't taking the non-gardening world by storm, it DOES average around 3000 visits each day. So, my mouth watering for future blackberries, my ego deftly stroked, and to help out a fellow Hoosier, I'll happily lend a few words here. Besides, you know how I love blackberries and trying another variety is a treat all by itself.The plants were shipped soon after we reached agreement, and then I was left to fret while their original 3-day UPS trip turned into 8 days, and during the hottest time of the summer! However, my concerns were misplaced because the nursery plans for a 15 day delay in shipping and planting and packaged them accordingly. Four small but healthy rooted plants arrived in good condition, peanut-cushioned to protect everything from mayhem, along with a copy of Rose Doyle's Blackberry Recipies, a very nice T-shirt, liquid fertilizer, mycorrhizal root booster, a proprietary trellis, trellis clips, fertilizer, and other items, many of which you can see pictured here. Rose Doyle's Blackberry Recipes alone is worth obtaining, with 186 pages of recipes that use blackberries for everything from Blackberry Chicken to Blackberry Brandy and on to Blackberry & Cantaloup Salsa! NOTE: If you order from Doyle's, use the code DTB527JR for 10% off. I get no commission, you get a larger discount!In fact, one could accept the shipping delay as God's Will, since the plants arrived at the end of the hottest stretch of weather we've had. I unpacked them, watered them, and waited through one more 90ºF+ day of highs and then planted them Thursday, July 31st, just as we begin an unusually cool period of 70's and 80's predicted for the next week.
Thursday, June 24, 2021
Earth's Bounty, Garden's Beauty
ProfessorRoush hasn't blogged, he knows, for quite a while during this busy June, but while the blog may suffer, the garden is never far from my mind. Nearly every morning and evening I'm there, watering or worrying, watching and waiting. Watering the new plants, and sometimes old, as we settle in to a very dry summer. Worrying about that struggling new Rugosa hybrid and watching diligently for the first Japanese Beetles. Waiting for the daylilies to bloom, for the rain to come, and for the heat to break.
It's been hot, friends, hot like late July, far too early now in June to see the ground crack and the forsythia wilt. And a month since significant rain, a drizzle here or there, dried on the cement before I can don my shoes. I water strawberries and tomatoes, petunias and pots on regular rotation, pouring hope onto the soil carried gallon by gallon from the house to the garden. But nothing grows at temperatures over 100ºF. Tomatoes don't bloom, daylilies drop buds, and the roses, oh the roses, pout like the garden prima donnas they are. The garden is static, in summer stasis, waiting on cool September to save it.Still, there is beauty in the garden, and bounty to find. Some plants, like the Prickly Poppy (Argemone polyanthemos) at the right, defy the heat, producing these impossibly delicate blossoms in defiance of the searing sun, the poppies of heaven, set down on earth. Here is the beauty for me to behold, a wild weed given a home for my pleasure and a grocery for the ungainly bumblebees wallowing in the petals. That bumble in the top photo, a plump glutton of industry, is surely going to please his friends, bearing baskets of pollen to feed the hive. The luscious blackberries in the second photo, they're for me, first, and then perhaps Mrs. ProfessorRoush if any of the purple pleasures survive the walk to the house. It's a dicey thing, showing up at the house with stained empty hands, purple mouth, and a smile, one's life spared only by inches and whim. But that the photo of the blackberries makes you want to reach into it and fill your hands, doesn't it? Imagine how good they were out in the garden, fresh off the bramble, warm and juicy, the taste of sunshine in every drupe. Any just jury would stay my execution on the promise of a future handful.
It's been hot, friends, hot like late July, far too early now in June to see the ground crack and the forsythia wilt. And a month since significant rain, a drizzle here or there, dried on the cement before I can don my shoes. I water strawberries and tomatoes, petunias and pots on regular rotation, pouring hope onto the soil carried gallon by gallon from the house to the garden. But nothing grows at temperatures over 100ºF. Tomatoes don't bloom, daylilies drop buds, and the roses, oh the roses, pout like the garden prima donnas they are. The garden is static, in summer stasis, waiting on cool September to save it.Still, there is beauty in the garden, and bounty to find. Some plants, like the Prickly Poppy (Argemone polyanthemos) at the right, defy the heat, producing these impossibly delicate blossoms in defiance of the searing sun, the poppies of heaven, set down on earth. Here is the beauty for me to behold, a wild weed given a home for my pleasure and a grocery for the ungainly bumblebees wallowing in the petals. That bumble in the top photo, a plump glutton of industry, is surely going to please his friends, bearing baskets of pollen to feed the hive. The luscious blackberries in the second photo, they're for me, first, and then perhaps Mrs. ProfessorRoush if any of the purple pleasures survive the walk to the house. It's a dicey thing, showing up at the house with stained empty hands, purple mouth, and a smile, one's life spared only by inches and whim. But that the photo of the blackberries makes you want to reach into it and fill your hands, doesn't it? Imagine how good they were out in the garden, fresh off the bramble, warm and juicy, the taste of sunshine in every drupe. Any just jury would stay my execution on the promise of a future handful.
There is, too, in the garden at many corners, feasts for the soul, saving sights for sun-seared eyes. My gentleman rabbit comes calling, a cheerful lily over a concrete shoulder. Blanc Double de Coubert, jealous of the angelic pristine poppy, attempts a second bloom cycle, not quite as white, but more fragrant and visible against the dark green foliage. Panicled hydrangeas begin to bloom, Russian sage forms a mound of airy blue, and everywhere grasses stretch to the sky.
Friday, June 1, 2012
Blackberry Bounty
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There should be a song written to the wonders of blackberries here in the Flint Hills, a boisterous song to rouse the spirit and whet the palate. Many fruits are iffy in these dry, thinly-covered hills, but blackberries are usually not among them. The peach crop can be wiped out with an inopportune freeze, strawberries die with the droughts, the watermelons and cantaloupes survive only at the mercy of the squash bugs, and grapes can disappear overnight as the June Bugs arrive, but blackberries, oh blackberries, usually can be counted for a fresh, sweet beginning to the summer. Okay, maybe except for last year.
I grow a number of blackberries varieties, in theory, but I may be down to one or at most two varieties in reality. I originally began with a row of thornless 'Arapaho', 'Navaho', 'Black Satin', and 'Cherokee', but those original plants have dwindled with crown gall and I've moved suckers everywhere to grow in other areas, so it's entirely possible that I've ended up with only one of the original cultivars (probably 'Navaho', which seemed the most vigorous) and certainly no more than two of that group. This year I'm making a concerted effort to provide these thornless varieties some deep watering at intervals (economically, with soaker hoses), in an attempt to improve the number of canes and the harvest.
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I suppose I should expect hybrid blackberries to do well in an environment where wild blackberries grow up everywhere that is not mowed, burned, or otherwise treated, but one can never be sure what evils man may have created during the "improvement process." Except for a little bacterial crown gall, blackberries are normally trouble-free for me. In fact, my only problem with blackberries is that I rarely harvest enough of them to use in jam or jelly. My family tends to eat them off the vine, unwashed, but oh so warm and sweet (the berries, not the family), as fast as they ripen on the canes. Blackberries stain us, and sustain us, until the main garden bounty comes with summer.
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