Sonia Uyterhoeven is the NYBG‘s Gardener for Public Education.
Today I would like to tackle a few problems that we commonly encounter in the vegetable garden. How do we maximize space? How do we prevent the feast or famine cycle where we either have nothing to show for our labor, or too much? If you are working with limited space, as most of us are, organizing your vegetable garden in such a way that you maximize productivity and get the right bang for your buck is important. There are several strategies that can help you plan your garden creatively and effectively.
The first thing we need to do is to take a look at how our vegetables grow. Are we planting a vegetable that will, once it reaches the age of maturity, produce consistently throughout the season? Tomatoes, eggplants, and peppers fall into this category. You will just need to add a few of these vegetables into your garden to get a steady supply throughout the summer. Or are we planting crops that either grow quickly or produce one large harvest? I am thinking now of head lettuce, beets, radishes, carrots and turnips.
When I think of companion planting, color, creativity, combinations and good garden fun come to mind. The premise behind companion planting is that some plants give off substances in their leaves and roots that affect other plants. It is true that plants have unique and complex chemical properties that help them fend off attack from pests and diseases.
It makes sense to extrapolate that they are capable of influencing other plants that are grown in their vicinity. Some people swear by the principle of companion planting and others eschew the concept. This blog is for those who embrace it or for those who simply like beautiful vegetable gardens.
Sonia Uyterhoeven is the NYBG‘s Gardener for Public Education.
Monet’s garden was a living canvas. In this space he experimented with his love of color and form. His knowledge of color theory and his artist’s eye informed the choices he made in his garden design. In turn, they offer good suggestions for the homeowner who is about to embark on their own planting project.
Last week we mentioned how one of Monet’s prominent concerns was capturing light and atmosphere. His garden was no different from the scenes he painted on his canvas. The color sequences that he created in his garden echoed changes in light and weather that he observed in the space. He used his artist’s eye to accentuate these changes and enhance the atmospheric quality of the place.
Sonia Uyterhoeven is the NYBG‘s Gardener for Public Education.
This year we are celebrating the life of the artist and gardener, Claude Monet. From May 19th until October 21st you will find our show houses, water lily pools, and exhibition galleries re-creating and displaying pieces of the famous Impressionist’s life.
The artist’s palette, photographs, and records of his famous garden–as well as two rarely seen paintings of irises–will be on view in our Library’s exhibition gallery. Our Ross gallery will display photographs of Giverny through the seasons, produced by an American gardener who was involved in the restoration of the legendary garden.
Our show houses and water lily pools will capture the essence of Giverny, including the iconic Japanese foot bridge and his Grand Allée. Throughout the summer we will discuss Monet as an artist and gardener, taking a look at his use of light and color in the garden and exploring some take-home lessons from his design strategies and gardening techniques.
There are many scientific textbooks around that will tell you all you ever cared to know about soil analysis, plant physiology, and propagation techniques. These tomes all have their place if you have the endurance to plow through them chapter by chapter.
If we are to conjecture what an antipodean approach would look like, then perhaps gardening to lunar cycles would fall at the opposite end of the spectrum from scientific research. The reality of the situation is that information, from whatever quadrants of learning it stems from, is just information–it all tends to intersect at some level. I find all types of knowledge useful. Ultimately, it is about cultivating your own gardening philosophy.
I walked by a restaurant in my neighborhood and realized it was closing down. Large industrial-sized pots, pans, and trays were piled up on display in the window to be sold off for a bargain the next morning. My eye caught a colander in the midst. I stared longingly at the colander and sighed, knowing that I wouldn’t be around when the doors opened for the sale.
I love collecting good, sturdy cookware for my own kitchen, but my motives that night were different. The large colander would have made a perfect planting container–perhaps as a hanging basket or a round, squat container that would have added an elegant touch to an intimate terrace garden. Unlike the small ones that I buy at retail stores for draining my pasta, this industrial colander was about 16 to 18 inches in diameter. It was crying out for a collection of herbs, sedums, hens and chicks, strawberries or colorful cascading annuals. It even could have become a home to mesclun mix.
If you haven’t already gone out to buy your seeds for your vegetable garden, now is the time to do it. I have been reading Steve Sando’s ‘The Rancho Gordo Heirloom Bean Guide’ and would like to talk today about an overlooked topic: heirloom beans.
Some of you may sigh and think, “Oh, beans! Why doesn’t she talk about heirloom tomatoes or peppers?” But beans are one of the easiest things to grow in the vegetable garden; as legumes they are nitrogen fixers, so they don’t deplete the soil of nutrients, and they come in a delicious variety of mouthwatering flavors when you grow them from seed (I’m not kidding). Some are nutty, some are buttery, some are starchy, some are creamy and some are meaty.
Last week we discussed basic orchid care and explored how to assess your home as a suitable place for growing orchids. This week we will grab our wallets and talk about buying an orchid. You may have noticed that orchids are not cheap. Their price has dropped measurably over the past decade due to tissue culture and the ability to produce orchids on a mass scale. But even with all of these advances in propagation techniques, they still command a decent price.
If you are spending between $20 and $50 on an orchid, you will probably want it to last for some time in your home. Following a few simple guidelines will help you ensure that your orchid flourishes. I am frequently asked if it matters where you purchase your orchid since this often influences the price. High-end florists and nurseries will have a better selection with many exotic and unusual varieties. Big box stores will have a limited selection of the standard fare.
Sonia Uyterhoeven is the NYBG‘s Gardener for Public Education.
For all of those orchid neophytes or orchid wannabes, this article is about giving you some courage. Not enough bravado to go out and buy a vanda or a masdevallia–that would be foolish to start–but hopefully the resolution to take a stab at a moth orchid, a slipper orchid, or dancing ladies.
Let’s start from the beginning, because wise purchases come from planning. Walk around your home and look for the empty spaces that you would like to fill with orchids. What does the light in this area look like? If you are not sure, place your hand 12 inches above the spot and see what kind of shadow is cast on the area. If it is a well-defined shadow, you have bright light; if fuzzy, you have medium light; and a faint shadow signifies low light. If there is no discernible shadow, then it is not the right place to try and grow a plant.
To the chagrin of my more tropically-inclined colleagues, I have been resisting the temptation to sing the praise of dendrobiums for years. “Give me an oncidium any day,” I used to exclaim. “They are easier to grow and I will not kill them!”
Initially, it was true… I had issues with dendrobiums. If the vegetative growth (foliage and pseudobulbs) in many orchids is fairly unattractive when they are out of bloom, the cane dendrobiums are positively ugly.
I do not like them in bloom; I do not like them out of bloom; I do not like them Sam-I-am with green eggs and ham! I was adamant. They looked like mutant orchids, outcasts in an otherwise pulchritudinous family–the Orchidaceae.