Mulch Madness

In the midst of "March Madness" but in contrast to the Final Four frenzy of sports fans, ProfessorRoush spent last weekend in a state of Mulch Madness, made more acute this year by the early and compact Spring here in Kansas.

I find the annual Spring Mulch Madness both cathartic and soul-satisfying.   I welcome this activity as a paradigm shift in my gardening year, signaling to me the change from the early days of preparing, improving, and modifying the garden for another year with the later, less participatory period of observing and enjoying the garden's growth and bloom through the Summer.   My garden, a chaotic shamble of winter remnants just a few days earlier, is transformed by The Mulching into a neatened and livable space, an idyllic world without weedy interlopers or uncultivated, raggedy plants. The pampered plants seem happier and somehow more wholesome, like children dressed in their new "back-to-school" clothes.  The garden now looks, and feels, CLEAN, a signal to my gardening soul that I'm free to move on towards Summer maintenance.  I'm past the planting and the pruning, beyond the weeding and the fertilizing.  My nest is empty and the babies are out among the world, growing in the sunshine.

The Mulching is one of the bigger annual efforts in my garden from a physical standpoint.  I only use "store-bought" mulch in the beds adjacent to the house and around individual trees, but those are still some pretty substantial beds.  The majority of my garden beds are mulched throughout the year with mown prairie grass clippings from my "lawn", an activity that helps me to feel both environmentally friendly and "organic", as well as moderately frugal.  Yet, I still use approximately 90 bags of hardwood mulch every year in the house beds because I like something more formal and presentable here for home and garden visitors. This year in a single day, I loaded, unloaded, and emptied out 86 bags of mulch, leaving me sore and sunburned, but fulfilled.  I'm admittedly still a few short here and there, but most of the work is done.

There are so many choices in mulchy regards;  generic hardwood, cedar, or cypress?  Colored red, colored black, colored brown, or natural?  Bagged or delivered in bulk?  I'm sure most or all gardeners go through similar choices every year.  Generic hardwood is the thing for me, both because of the lesser cost, renewability, and the rapid breakdown of the material.  I formerly spread cypress mulch exclusively, feeling it more "up-scale," but I always had misgivings relating to the loss of cypress swamps and habitat that cause extinction of the Ivory-Billed Woodpecker.  What really made me change, however, was realizing that the cypress mulch broke down extremely slowly and that I had accumulated about 6 inches of caked, inert cypress mulch on top of the beds.  I choose brown hardwood mulch simply because I like the brown against the green plants and brick house.  I employ pre-bagged mulch, although it's slightly more expensive and of less quality than bulk mulch purchased from a local vendor, due to an innate streak of laziness that I disguise as efficiency.  As long as I'm willing to drive on my lawn, I can throw the bags off my trailer within inches of where they'll be used, saving me from untold injuries by an errant, overloaded wheelbarrow, from dumping mulch more by accident than by design, and most importantly, saving me from the labor of wheeling the mulch up and down and around the Flint Hills surrounding the house.

The Mulching, for this year, is over.  My gardening soul is at rest for a time. The Garden is ready, gathering strength and momentum as it rushes towards Summer, clothed in new garments for a new year. 

Camping Caterpillars

Yes, I am aware that the gardening year has come early in North America.  And it has discombobulated just about every plant species and human gardener beyond any historical measure.  Now, similarly scrambled, it seems the insects are joining the parade.  Early, Early, Early.

I noticed this weekend that I already had two of these delightful little fuzzy caterpillar nests in a young ornamental cherry tree.  I tend to lump all these creepy, crawling little blights under the term "webworms", but a little research tells me that in my area, in the Spring and in a cherry tree, these are likely Eastern Tent Caterpillars (Malacosoma americanum).  The real webworms, (Hyphantria cunea) occurs in the fall and are less discerning upon which trees they inflict.  Of course, my invasion could be gypsy moths or Forest Tent Caterpillars, but to discern the differences, I'd have to let these barely visible white caterpillars mature a little bit, and I'm not about to do that.  Odds being what they are, for the sake of simplicity, let us just call these Eastern Tent Caterpillars. 

As an interested amateur biologist, I was fascinated to read how their tents are oriented to face the southeast, taking advantage of the strongest rays of the early Spring sun to warm them up in the cooler air.  And as a veterinarian, I was previously unaware that they have been linked to "Mare Reproductive Loss Syndrome."  It seems that when pregnant mares are fed the caterpillars, they abort.  No one is sure of the exact pathogenesis, but the causal link is well established.  I'm astonished that the link was even made; I mean, who sits around watching their pregnant mares eat Eastern Tent Caterpillar nests?

Regarding control of these little beasties, I find myself doubtful about the common recommendation to simply tear a hole in the silk to let the birds get at the caterpillars.  What would stop the caterpillars from reforming their "tent", since they reportedly add to its size every day?  I'm therefore sad and embarrassed to admit that I resorted to dousing these babies with a Sevin drench.

In my defense before the court of the WEE (Wild-Eyed Environmentalists), this tree is an ornamental and doesn't produce edible cherries so both the birds and myself are safe.  But them caterpillars are toast!

Working Day

No philosophical rambling yesterday, my friends, no time here to play.  Yesterday was a work day at ProfessorRoush's garden; mulching, weeding, transplanting, dividing, and general all around "leave the gardener aching" day.  Well, okay, there was a little play, since nearly everything I just listed is really playtime for me.  But, all in all, a pleasant and satisfying day of life.

I need to let you in on a big secret, however.  I've got a tool for you to add to your garden armory.  No, not one of those tools that you buy once and then leave hanging in your tool cabinet or shed unused.  This is not toolshed clutter.  This is shear genius of tool creation.

I'd like to introduce you to the Radius Garden Pro Weeder, found online at www.radiusgarden.com.  I first saw this gardening lifesaver at the annual Manhattan Garden Show, and thought it interesting but a little pricey at $50.00.  Then, fate intervened to send me exactly $50.00 of "mad money" recently and I took it as a sign from the gardening gods that I was destined to own it.

The second big secret is that, while I'm sure it is a nice weeder, weeding is not remotely its best function.  Think of this, those of you with clay soil interspersed with rocks, as a small spade, able to reach down deep between the stones and pry them up.  And more importantly, able to CUT THROUGH THE TOUGHEST MISCANTHUS CLUMP TO DIVIDE IT INTO NICE PLANTABLE PLUGS!  Forget about the team of sweaty muscular young men to lift the grassy clumps and the chainsaws to divide them. This baby let me transplant my Miscanthus, albeit minus a couple of growing years, where it needs to be rather than where I originally planted it.  I'm going to now burn out or Roundup the rest of the clumps.  No need to break my back anymore in a fruitless attempt to move mountains!

It's built extremely tough, with, as you can see on the back, a nice strong spine to prevent bending.  My pictures show a working weeder, dirty and smeared, but it is made of stainless steel and has a rubber molding around a steel core clear to the "O-ring" handle.  I don't know that it needed more than a "D" handle, but the O-ring is workable and comfortable to use.  It comes in several colors for those who care about the color of a gardening tool.  But, most important, there is no bending or breaking this baby. 

The real secret is in the tip.  It's about 2.5 inches wide and its not sharp enough to slice you inadvertently, but it is sharp enough to go easily through the tough clay and small enough to work between stones.  Think about the force on the tip;  a normal spade, with a width of 6-8 inches, distributes my weight along all of that width.  This baby multiplies my force by 3 times at a minimum.  Genius!   It's a pry bar with a handle!  It's a spade for the Flint Hills!  It's a bulb planter with wings!

Consider this just a tip of the gardening hat to a fabulous tool from a gardener who has no connection with the manufacturer nor who gets directly or indirectly paid for this endorsement.  This one will not live solely in your tool collection, but will become a real workhorse in your garden.  And worth every penny just for the savings in Miscanthus plugs.

Blessed Rain

ProfessorRoush was away for a few short days, and during my absence we got bucketfuls of blessed rain here in the Flint Hills.  According to my rain gauges, over 2.5 inches on the ground, and that, my friends, was sufficient to make my clay soil make squishy "sop, suck" sounds at every step.  If taking a short vacation is all that is needed to get sufficient rain, then I surely need to take more vacations.  The back garden looks somehow cleaner, fresher, and ready for Spring.

I did take note of a line of deep furry white-tailed large-hoofed rat prints in the wet soil of two of my rose beds, but beyond the resulting compaction of the soil and some nibbled daylilies, I didn't note any major damage.  I will give them a free pass just this one time.  I see no reason to get Odocoileus-cidal until they actually sample the foliage.   You know, I've never looked up the genus/species of Virginia deer before.  What kind of a name is "Odocoileus" anyway?  According to one website, Odocoileus is from the Greek words odos (tooth) and koilos (hollow).  White-tailed North American deer were given an unfortunate name, don't you think?  It makes me almost feel sorry for them.  Almost.  Until they sample my garden.

My surprise of the morning occurred as a cosmic echo of my "Imposterous!" post of a few days ago.  Gazing over my wet garden, I noticed, right in front of me and just next to the walkway, that my Northern Bayberry (Myrica pensylvanica) bush had bright pink blooms.  Wait!  Bright pink blooms?  Bayberry blooms in small white almost inconspicuous flowers, and I grow it primarily in the event that  "come the revolution"(as my father says), I'll be the only Kansan for miles with a source of candle wax.  In this case, there was a 7 foot high volunteer Redbud growing at the edge of my 6 foot tall Bayberry and I've missed it entirely until now.  Until it bloomed.  It is going to be almost a shame to cut this brave and intrepid tree out, but it is in entirely the wrong place.  Sorry, little tree.