Linseed Learnings

In a recent post I recommended the use of boiled linseed oil for the annual care of wooden tool handles and in doing so, and making sure I was conveying correct information, I got quite an education on linseed oil.  Here are ten facts about linseed oil that every gardener should know:

1. Linseed oil is actually flax seed oil.  I always wondered what a "lin" plant looked like.  Flax, I know. As an old man who hates burping  the fish oil recommended by the doctor, and who has been taking flax oil (also high in the Omega-3 fatty acids) instead, I think it's important to know that I'm preserving my arteries with the same crap that dries sticky and yellow on my wooden handles. Now the question is, should I, as a frugal gardener, save money and just drink from the $5.00 linseed oil can instead of buying the bottles of gel-caps?  Maybe the "do not take internally" text on the Linseed Oil can is a message in itself.

2.  The particular characteristic of linseed oil that makes it useful for our purposes is that it is a "drying oil" (along with tung, soybean, safflower, and poppy)  that polymerizes in combination with oxygen into a solid form.  It also shrinks very little on hardening and penetrates wood well. It is a traditional finish for gun stocks, cricket bats, billiard cues, and surfboards.

3.  In Europe cold-pressed linseed oil is eaten with potatoes and Quark cheese (a bland type of cheese).  The "hearty taste" of linseed oil supposedly offsets the bland taste of the cheese.  That means that a really terribly bland meal is made to taste like cardboard and is now considered edible.

4.  Linseed oil is water-repelling, but not water resistant.  Water penetrates a linseed oil finish in minutes and water vapour bypasses it completely.  Garden furniture treated with linseed oil may develop mildew.

5.  Linseed oil is a common carrier in paints, puttys and varnishes due to its drying properties.  Okay, no surprise, everybody knows this one already.

6.  Linseed oil was once used commonly to bind wood dust and cork particles into linoleum, a floor covering invented in 1860.  The use of real linoleum has declined as more durable PVC floor coverings have been developed.

7.  Linseed oil used to be boiled to cause it to begin polymerization and oxidation, thus making it thicker and shortening drying time.  Today most "boiled linseed oil" products are a combination of raw linseed oil, petroleum-based solvents, and metallic/catalyst dryers.  Modern boiled linseed oil is not edible, so stop chewing on the handles of your garden tools. 

8.  There was a National Linseed Oil Trust, formed in 1885 and based in St. Louis, that protected "linseed" interests in the United States.  It was dissolved in 1920 under charges that it violated the Sherman Antitrust Act.  As I read the history, essentially this was a linseed oil "cartel" that was accused of colluding to raise linseed oil prices.

9.  The polymerization of Linseed oil is an exothermic reaction, which creates a cascade of  heat buildup and make linseed oil-soaked rags particularly likely to cause spontaneous fires.  Always. always spread these rags out to dry before disposal and never just throw them into a trash can wet. 

10.  The primary world producers of flax seed  are Canada and China.  The United States was fourth in production in 2007 and almost all of the crop is from North and South Dakota, Minnesota, and Montana.

So, that's the short story of linseed oil.  Now that I know more about it, and have learned that it is one of the worst protectants of the natural oils against water, I probably need to choose something else to protect the handles of my garden tools.  Tung oil, for example, is more resistant to water, doesn't yellow with age, and would be a much better choice as a protectant.  But that brings up a whole bunch of other questions about using local versus imported substances (not many Tung nut trees are raised in the US) and the environmental effects of growing flax in mass quantities and on, and on.  Being a world-conscious consumer is so exhausting.

Spring?

Well, it was almost Spring.  For a moment.  We've had a few days in the last few weeks where it was warm enough that I had a decent start on cleaning up the spring beds.  In fact, Saturday I cleared the last bed adjacent to the house of the debris of fall and it is ready for mulch as soon as the last of the daffodils break through.  Then, yesterday, this:

Just God's little way of reminding me that Spring doesn't officially begin until the vernal equinox; March 20th, 2011, at 7:21 PM EDT.  I fear not for the daffodils, but it probably doesn't do the new red poppy foliage any good.

Shrubs for Your Soul, cont.

  Continuing with an earlier post (also published in a new online gardening magazine titled Toil the Soil at Bestgardenblogs.com) discussing early flowering shrubs that are well-adapted for the Great Plains.  Suggestions 1 through 3 were for  Forsythia sp., Magnolia stellata, and Lilacs, and we continue now with:  

'Arnold Red'

Honeysuckles:  Honeysuckles are great performers in Kansas gardens, and I’ve seen decent success with either bush-type introductions such as Lonicera tatarica ‘Arnold Red’ (blooming in late April in this region), or with the more vine-like and later-flowering Lonicera japonica cultivars such as ‘Hall’s Honeysuckle’. I grow the latter on a woven-wire cylinder-form trellis and it can always be counted on for a bright display in mid-May just as hummingbirds arrive in the area.

'Arnold Red' Honeysuckle

'Hall's' Honeysuckle

Lilac 'Josee' in front of Viburnum 'Nannyberry'

Viburnums: Visitors to Kansas gardens often seem surprised that many Viburnum sp. are among our most stalwart spring shrubs, and it is often perplexing to me to find that many experienced gardeners don’t believe that viburnums, as a group, tolerate full sun well. Take it from me that many species of viburnum tolerate the worst August sun that Kansas weather can throw at them. The viburnum season starts for us with fragrant offerings from Viburnum fragrans ‘Mohawk’ and Viburnum juddii, proceeds through the Viburnum lentago ‘Nannyberry’, and Viburnum opulus ‘Roseum’, and then finishes with the Viburnum dentatum cultivars such as ‘Christom’ and ‘Synnestvedt’, all flowering in their own special times and in their own ways.

  

'Coles Red' Quince

Quince: Chaenomeles japonica, or Quince, cultivars such as the older ‘Texas Scarlet’ and newer varieties such as ‘Coles Red’ bloom in late April in Kansas gardens, and these shrubs are all so well-adapted to our climate as to be almost rampant in their growth habits. I have, in fact, grubbed out several of these shrubs who overgrew their anticipated bounds. Many local landscapes count on these shrubs in late April to shine briefly for a week or so and then to fade into green, undiseased obscurity as the summer and fall move ahead.

Variegated Weigela

Weigela:  I was always jealous of a neighbor who had a beautiful specimen of Weigela florida ‘Red Prince’, which always shone like a spotlight beside his front door, until I realized that just about any gardener can grow Weigela in the Flint Hills. Lately, I’ve been partial to the variegated form (pictured), whose white flowers make a different statement against their pale green and white foliage than ‘Red Prince’ does against its dark green clothes. Occasionally, Weigela will take a little extra water in the heat of the Kansas summer, but it is well worth it to carry a bucket or two at a critical moment if the reward is this early display next spring.



Philadelphia lewsii 'Blizzard'



Mockorange:  Finally, I believe no Kansas or Midwest garden is complete without a specimen or two of Mockorange to perfume the air in May. Philadelphia lewsii ‘Blizzard’ makes a 6 foot tall tower of blinding white flowers every spring in my garden, but visitors have been known to swoon with range of its dangerously strong scent.

'Marie Bugnet'

As an unabashed rosarian at heart, I can’t simply end an article recommending flowering spring shrubs for Kansas without rounding out the spring season by mentioning a few early shrub roses for the area. Without fail, the first rose to bloom in my garden every spring is the Rugosa hybrid ‘Marie Bugnet’, a white, disease-free shrub that reaches about 3 foot in both height and width in my garden. ‘Marie Bugnet’ is followed a week later by the dependable prairie pioneers of ‘Harison’s Yellow’ and ‘Therese Bugnet’, and then the whole rose season ushers me finally into summer. Soon, another growing season moves along, from June promise through August doldrums to November quiet. And I’m left as I am now, in the depths of Winter gloom, waiting for the Spring shrubs to soothe my soul.

'Therese Bugnet' (pink) and 'Harison's Yellow' (yellow)

Prairie Joy

I believe that one of the most under-utilized roses for Midwestern and Northern climates must be "Prairie Joy," the bright pink, double shrub rose introduced in 1990 ('Prairie Princess' X 'Morden Cardinette') from  the Morden Research Center in Manitoba Canada.  Although many sources list it as being in the Parkland series, the Ag Canada publication Winter-Hardy Roses (2000) lists it as belonging to the "Other" series and states it was the first hedge rose released from Morden. I obtained it over a decade ago from a source I've since forgotten and I've only seen it growing in my own garden.  And I'm tellin' ya that y'all don't know wat'cher missing, y'hear?

'Prairie Joy', 1st bloom cycle

She's taller in my Flint Hill's garden than her reputation, growing in a nice vase-like shape for me about 6 feet tall by 4 foot wide with tall, strong single canes. She's listed at being about 3-4 feet tall by 4 feet wide by Ag Canada, so the hot Kansas summers seem to benefit her growth.  Ag Canada also states that her general form is "round," but she is definitely a dense vase for me. What Ag Canada got correct for Kansas was the arching nature of the bush: she sprawls over her neighbors unless you tie her up.  My tendency has been to tie the long canes together in Winter so they don't whip themselves to death. I let her sprawl a bit early in Spring so that more flower buds are produced along the canes, and  then I tie her back up in the middle just before flowering to tidy up for flowering.  And what a show she gives.  This is a rose that blooms in repeated cycles for me, with later cycles of bloom almost as prolific as the year's first.   In the interest of full disclosure, Ag Canada, in a colder climate, lists 'Prairie Joy' as having a good first flush with only sporadic later blooms. You can see proof that I at least get a good flush of repeat bloom as the daylilies bloom in July in the picture below.

'Prairie Joy', 2nd bloom cycle

'Prairie Joy' is pretty thorny, and as I said, she likes to bend over and grab passersby, so you'll want to tie her up if she's near a walkway to make her behave.  The luminous medium pink color blends well with most other hues except the purplish-pink rugosas, and the color fades slowly to light pink.  She blooms in clusters of 1-6 and the blooms average 40 petals.  After a bloom flush, the petals fall so clean from the bush that you'll think there has been a wedding in the area.  'Prairie Joy' has dark green leaves that are very resistant to powdery mildew and blackspot.  I never spray her and the leaves stay on in the heat of the summer clear to the bottom of the bush.  She is very winter-hardy as well; Zone 3 according to most sources, but Zone 2 according to Ag Canada.  Another plus for this bush is that there has been absolutely no suckering or spread beyond her nice vaselike form.  Her fragrance, to my nose, is mild and sweet.

So, my fellow rosarians, you may not live on the prairie, but take a chance on 'Prairie Joy'.  She is not only good for cold winter nights, she can bring you joy in the hot summer sun as well.