Autumn and cool weather signify final chores in the garden. This time of year also brings out the hunting and gathering instincts that must be part of our genetic code. I feel positively squirrel-ish as I rush around gathering armfuls of luscious, colorful branches for one huge, finale of a bouquet. Somehow, I need to capture part of the natural abundance–before the inevitable denouement–and bring it inside.
The vessel for this bouquet must be ample no matter whether wicker, metal, pottery or crystal.
Go into the garden or stroll the nearest woods and fields. Have good pruners in hand. Gather branches from maples, oaks, blue beech and ironwood. Find rose hips, winterberry, bittersweet, viburnums and crab apples. Cut frost-tinged plants like yarrow, asters, ferns and ornamental grasses. Don't forget to add dried flower heads of the ubiquitous hydrangea.
And, as every good designer knows, include a foil whether in color, shape or texture. A stem or two of striking blue delphinium is perfection.
Tasha can find a glorious bouquet anytime, and in fall her porch holds masses of autumn leaves, delphiniums, crab apples, and hydrangeas. ~ Tovah Martin, Tasha Tudor's Garden
One last time…lawn care. As in all other areas of the garden, the key to lawn care is nurturing the soil. If we are good stewards of our soil–and by that I mean using sustainable practices such as amending with organic material, no-till tilling and recognition of the millions of beneficial microorganisms that live in the soil–we will be rewarded with healthy, vigorous grass that crowds out weeds.
Listed below are the final chores to complete this fall. • Mow one final time so grass is 2 ¬? - 3" high. • Leave grass clippings on the lawn. They do not produce thatch. • If copious amounts of fallen leaves cover the lawn, rake most and place on compost pile or on other beds. Leave some in place and follow next step. • If thin layer of leaves exists, run mower over them and allow to remain in place. Broken-up leaves are a natural, beneficial source of organic matter. • If no leaves, apply thin layer of well-rotted manure, compost or other organic material.
That's all. Now winterize the mower, clean the tools and shut the shed door.
What I'm reading now. The English Assassin, by Daniel Silva. This is my first book in Silva's series about Gabriel Allon, an art restorer by day/Israeli spy by night. Allon is a very cool character and the story takes him to classy European locales–Lisbon, Zurich, Rome, London and Corsica.
The Windows of Brimnes, by Bill Holm. I fell hard for Holm when I read his Cabins of Minnesota. After poignantly describing venerable cabins around the state, he confessed that the cabin he purchased was in his ancestral country of Iceland and he is "in love with it–madly, ecstatically in love with it." Holm was an excellent writer and I'm now captivated by all things Icelandic. He died last winter but left for us a large number of books, poems and essays.
Projects for Small Gardens, by Richard Bird and George Carter. I picked up this book from the bargain table and was instantly seduced. Included are detailed instructions and mouth-watering color photographs for 56 garden projects. In fact, after a bit of design tweaking, the trellis and trellis/screen are installed now in my garden. Other projects include hurdles, wattles, arches, obelisks, arbors, window boxes, troughs and countless containers.
Julia's Kitchen Wisdom, by Julia Child. I've had this book since 2001 (complete with a Julia Child-autographed card) and have used it on a limited-but-regular basis for her salads, dressings and "Egg Cookery." With all the hoopla surrounding the movie, Julie and Julia, I had to dust it off and re-connect with this amazing chef and colorful character.
This column also appears in the Askov American, Askov, Minnesota.
Autumn and cool weather signify final chores in the garden. This time of year also brings out the hunting and gathering instincts that must be part of our genetic code. I feel positively squirrel-ish as I rush around gathering armfuls of luscious, colorful branches for one huge, finale of a bouquet. Somehow, I need to capture part of the natural abundance–before the inevitable denouement–and bring it inside.
