PROMISES, PROMISES. Who–even with the best intentions and a lot of sprinklers and hoses–can keep them when the weather is like it is in so many spots nationwide? Andre Jordan, our favorite doodler, wrote this week to say it was 124 degrees at his place, and I thought: No wonder those peonies are dead. All is forgiven, Andre. Tell the Missus I say so.
I WATCHED A ZOOM lecture the other day that really put into words a lot of the ways my own deepening understanding of ecology is shaking up the way I practice horticulture—from spring cleanup, right on to the last chore of the active year. The lecturer was Rebecca McMackin, director of horticulture for Brooklyn Bridge Park in New York City, where she leads the team that manages 85 acres of diverse parkland with a central focus on habitat creation of woodlands, wetlands, and meadows to build soils and support birds, butterflies, and other organisms.
We talked about the dynamic tactics they use and when and why–a whole different approach to spring cleanup, where the life cycles of animals (from insects on up) dictate what happens when, garden maintenance-wise. Like why some things don’t get cut back, and others that are still seed-laden when they do have their seeds collected and set aside, then returned to the spot after whatever cleanup is needed there.
(Stream it below, read the illustrated transcript or subscribe free.)
Oh, this really made me giggle. When you did the interviews with YouGrowGirl and talked about burning out (I don’t remember the wording), the last two weeks are exactly what burn me the heck out: Heat indices of 110 degrees.
In Wisconsin, land of ice and snow. (Despite being a gardener, I love the brutal cold.)
A friend of mine compared our recent temps to all of South America yesterday, and there was only one place as hot as here, and the humidity still wasn’t as brutal there. What the heck? I guess that the humidity is the reason that Wisconsin is so lush and green, and also the reason I wave at my garden through the window mid-day this week. I say, “I’ll see you later, when the sun is setting. We’ll have a little fun then, baby. With the hose!”
I find myself missing the -30s we had here in South Dakota.
Hot here too. Can we just skip August? I am watering the neighbors’ plants while they are away. One planter I brought inside because of the heat, the others are doing okay, partly because their yard has some shade. Still, I’m a bit nervous about the potted ones.
This summer I feel like I am a nurse on the intensive recovery ward at the ‘plant hospital’! Each plant is like a patient who needs one-on-one care with all this extreme heat we are experiencing in the northeast.
Sorry, got to go now. A hydrangea is calling me – it’s fading fast!
Years and years ago when I still had a corporate life I had to be in Paris for 3 weeks in July (terrible, I know). At the time we lived in a condo and I had about 10 tomato plants in containers, my husband’s only job was to keep them watered for the weeks I was away. No comment on how that turned out! This cartoon definitely made me chuckle!
I copied Andre’s cartoon and sent it to my husband becasue we’ve been there…and lived to laugh about it later (sort’ve!!). I just plan on replacing a few plants whenever I travel and he is in charge of watering my babies!!
Sara, you sound very philosophical!
M.A., my condolences; I hope the patient recovers.
Could they have gone dormant?
I love it. I am the Husband and I have lived through many plant deaths.
andre: Have a good night,
John
Here in the land of little rain we’re coming out of a cool spell–yes, a cool spell–during which it didn’t break 100 for about two weeks. Everything in the garden is thriving at the moment (knock on wood). We’ll see how they hold up as the temperature climbs.
Hi, Kay. I am always awestruck at the tenacity of arid-region gardeners — and plants. Amazing stories of adaptation on both parts, right?
aaww..this heat is wilting us all!
This is eerily relevant to me and my husband. We just planted peonies and they have been burning in the heat. Though actually husband is better at watering than wife. Anyway, I absolutely love it. Makes me smile every time I see it. I might laminate it, put it on a stick, and place it near the peonies. Thank you.
Definitely. I’m requiring more adaptation than most: I just moved to the Central Valley from muggy northern Delaware. Here I’ve been digging up the lawn, which I’m sure somebody went through great pains to grow. I figure that if I have to water something, it might as well be something I can eat.
Haha! Hello from back home, Kay. It’s absolutely miserable in Northern Delaware right now! 100 degrees all day and overcast since 5ish, and of course we both know it’s not going to rain…
Today feels downright cool, especially after Thursday’s hideous humidity. Maybe I can finally get some weeding done (they’re definitely winning now). No containers, no containers… this is why I don’t do them! And this fall, the hydrangea is getting moved to a shadier spot. I just don’t like having to water.
I had to giggle about the husband who killed the plants. I have a gardening customer, who asked her husband to water the well over 100 pots of annuals on her deck while she was away. When she came back most were soaking in water by an overly “enthusatic helper”. She made him dump the pots of water then had him use a hair dryer to “dry” the soaking soil!!
Hi, Sonya and hello also to Deb. Very funny to hear that both of you “relate” to this doodle, it seems. I guess Andre is at the pulse of things, isn’t he? :)
Hello, Matt! I’ve been hearing about how brutal it is there. I’ll do a rain dance for everyone back east.
Its hot here too. Garden is wilting but the weeds are thriving without any rain. How does that happen?
Hi, Yvonne. The weeds have super powers, that’s all I can say to explain it. :)
I’m certainly missing the cold wet spring we had in NJ now!
Even my mint is dry and dead let alone other less hardy souls. What a week to go away. No one to water. It is scary above ground, but I hope that there are roots alive and things will come back maybe later this summer or next year. It looks the same as when i slow roast the herbs in the oven for winter use. What heartache. any suggestions, all hints are helpful.
The peony might come back…they are really hard to kill unless you had just planted it this year. Mine always sort of wilt and not really die back, but definitely get brownish and dry. One year I trimmed it down to almost nothing because it looked like that in August. It still came back in the spring….it has been extreme though. I am in WI and it is hotter than I remember it being when I lived in LA. No humidity there.
One year the electric company came through and cut off a large limb of my maple tree. They said they’d just be trimming it back because it was hitting the lines. The cut it off completely making one entire side of my shade garden into sun. I set up a tent of shade fabric for that year. Eventually other things grew in and I almost have full shade again.
moral is we gardeners will do anything for our plants and all the mishaps they endure due to “MAN”
Hi, Bellafiore. You are right…it will probably be fine. Always shocking to see the crispy stuff before late fall though, isn’t it? See you soon again!
My secret is to plant hardy & drought-tolerant varieties that are well-suited to my area. We’ve had close to 20 days at 100 or above so far this season. I’m going to lose a pentsemmon which doesn’t bother me because it never looked very pretty anyway. In another newly planted area, I might lose a butterfly bush and a Russian olive. Much of the garden is on it’s own–I’ve haven’t watered at all this year. Some plants I watered once this summer. I regularly water the pots, the newbies and then myself. Cheers! :)
Although I live in Seattle now, where summer temperatures are quite pleasant, I lived in the midwest for 20+ years, so I can sympathize with the husband here.
Thanks, Andre, for another good chuckle. I love your doodles.
Thank goodness for Andre, right Marie? Nice to see you.