Cole crops like broccoli, brussel sprouts, cabbage and kohlrabi have always presented challenges. This year we are thrilled with our modest success!

The most troublesome is the cabbage worm. These green worms must be dealt with swiftly and often. Most people spray or powder, and two years ago we tried some of the Dipple, but we were neither consistent enough or swift enough. Another difficulty is their preference for cooler temps. Not much I can do about the weather, so I focused on the bug issue this year.

It’s a simple and inexpensive crop (row) cover made from old lace curtains sewn together. We found the lace at Goodwill and I did the sewing myself, thank you very much. The cabbage worm moths cannot penetrate the elegance of this drapery. And so they cannot lay their evil eggs that become the voracious worms. Perhaps next year we can try some cauliflower too.

Violent wind/thunder storms came through Tama and surrounding counties early Monday morning while we were sleeping. Winds were so strong we could feel the house shake. We are still without power and water and are sad to report that we lost about 15 trees. Trees we planted ourselves in ’07 and ’08, many of which were showing such potential.  Those who have visited know that our house and gardens are located in a mostly treeless area, except for the large Ash tree next to the house. On a side note, we recently learned that this tree was given as a gift to Emil Seidel (former owner of our house) by one of his daughters. We are very happy this tree was not harmed as it provides wonderful shade.
The loss of so many young trees is a big one, both for the shade they were on their way to making and because I now love trees so much, perhaps even more than flowers. I have recently come to the conclusion that watching a tree grow over a 4 year span is more rewarding than watching what a perennial does in that time.
Pictured are but a few of our losses.

Jonathan Apple. Not going to overdramatize this loss. This tree was already weakened by borers and scab. All future apple trees will have good disease resistance.

We classify this one as our biggest loss. This young redbud was full and beautifully shaped. And used daily by birds.

Second biggest loss- the other beautiful redbud. For a slow growing tree, they have not proven to be very strong around here.

Ornamental pear. Not such a big loss now that I am becoming a tree snob. Didn’t really like its columnar shape. Had gorgeous fall color though, and as I stated above any tree around here will be missed.

Another huge loss is the Toka plum we posted photos of this Spring. This was one of the very first trees we planted when we arrived in ’07. The fruit, tasted for the first time last year, was out of this world and the Spring blossoms were intoxicating.

This poor honey locust wins the “fastest grower” prize. Curly willow is the absolute fastest, but won’t be included here since all ours emerged unscathed. Yep, I plan to plant many more curly willow as it has proven to be fast growing and tough.

And finally, the huge old red oak on our hillside sustained major limb damage. And a huge old hickory (not pictured) in this vicinity went down

Thinning veggies is often neglected as the act ends the potential of the sprout. Eating mature veggies, technically vegecide, doesn’t seem to bother anyone around here. The potential is so marvelous and unknowable. And even though we understand that this potential will never be achieved if left to compete with a carrot or beat rubbing elbows, we have traditionally been reluctant to thin.

I’m improving though. These carrots were satisfying to thin since we could actually make use of them. The radishes and beats were not quite so giving, and I still have a ways to go with squash, pumpkins and cucumbers. When five seeds sprout on a hill, I have difficulty deciding who stays and who goes. I then allow more to stay than I should. I rationalize that some might fall ill, or sustain dog or deer damage. Surely there is enough soil and nutrients for four, right?

In 2009 I visited The Oregon Garden in Silverton, OR. What I saw there made me want to rush home and do a large scale planting in that style. The Oregon Garden designers use mainly trees, shrubs and ground covers that look good all season, and very few ephemeral flowers- and they are obviously geniuses. If you ever find yourself in Oregon, Silverton is not a far drive from Portland and in my opinion, the gardens are much more interesting than anything else you’ll find in the area. Plus it is also a resort- a sort of Disneyland for people like me. Pictured below is my Oregon Garden-inspired planting. There are a few blooms here and there, but it is more about the contrast between high and low, leaf shape and color, and texture. It is proving to be much lower maintenance than our other perennial beds.

It’s not always roses, winecups, sunflowers and fresh salads around here. As much as we enjoy the natural beauty that surrounds us, we are also in the habit of controlling it to a degree. We have an esthetic that nature doesn’t always agree with. Nature seems to have a preference for quack grass for example. We disagree. Nature also seems to have a soft spot for bull thistle and burdock. Again, we beg to differ. And that means there are days where measures must be taken.

Burdock is an invasive biennial. In it’s first year it produces large rhubarb-like leaves. This is the best time to spray them (if you are into chemicals and not too close to plants you want to preserve). We neglected to spray anything at the right time, so we move directly to step two: don’t let the second year plants bloom. In its second year, burdock produces an impressively large stalk with many side branches -  the tips of which are packed with clusters of purple flowers. The blooms are indeed attractive, but once dry, the seed pods (burs) are annoyingly clingy – super velcro that sticks to hair, hats, gloves, pets, clothes…everything!

I spent the better part of two days engaged in battle with these giant stalks. I’ll spare you the graphic description of the carnage. Burdock is a bit of a pacifist (the tap root even has medicinal properties) and rarely put up a fight. My weapon of choice is a machete, but large loppers work nicely too.  At times, I felt like Don Quixote engaged in battle with windmills – the futility of my efforts do not go unnoticed. There were many young plants that will return next year and many last-year burs I saw along the way.

I never knew poppies could grow so well in Iowa – particularly the wispy orange California poppies. I thought they were only suited for drier climates; I was obviously misinformed. And that’s fine by me. I rather like them. I think they are one of my favorite flowers to photograph. Not as flamboyant as sunflowers and not as long standing either. I suppose their short bloom time makes them less ideal garden flowers (if you want lots of long blooms), but this also makes me more appreciative. After the bloom is done the seed pod forms for post-bloom interest. I’ll be sure to add more to this slide show as the seasons continue.

Want to add some poppies to your garden? Not sure if it’s necessary, but we usually sprinkle the seeds toward the end of winter. All the better if it’s snowing a little. The silvery, jagged-leaved seedlings emerge early in the spring.

A new plant combination we have enjoyed this year: Wild Lupine, Mourning Widow Geranium and Perennial Bachelor Buttons.

Mourning Widow also looks good with Spiderwort.

Spiderwort looks fantastic this year. There was a cat fight in the clump pictured below, and it fared ok- better than one of the cats. We are learning that male cats are still territorial, even after being neutered. Peaches, our indoor/outdoor cat, and Doppel, our outdoor cat, spend hours each day staring each other down. We find it’s best to break it up before they get too close. Poor Dops usually loses.

Here’s a close-up of that pink oriental poppy pictured above. We grew this from seed in ’08 and are thrilled that it is still with us. Both pink and red oriental poppies are difficult to grow in Iowa clay- pink being more difficult. They must be started from seed if you want them to come back- in our growing conditions anyway.

Anne sometimes likes to call this the crazy bed. The weeds and grass (and potential snakes in the weeds and grass) drive her crazy at times.  The bed is also home to a haphazard collection of shrubs, flowers and a growing number of trees. It seems to be the go-to bed for items that do not fit in other beds. Most of the trees in the crazy bed are very small at this point. But they too are crazy. Anne plants Redbuds like some people plant tulips — they can be thick. It totally makes sense though (in a crazy way) — the Redbuds are small and can hang out with a lone day lily, a dogwood, large swaths of euphorbia, winecups, primrose, wild mulleins, and dozens of others.

click the image for a much larger view.

I like the crazy bed for it’s unpredictability. Always a new species to be found that I didn’t know existed. Anne says there isn’t much going on there right now, but I say there is always something crazy going on. In time I’m sure this bed will have a new name. Maybe it will become the Redbud bed.

We are honored to be part of the July/August 2011 edition of Midwest Living magazine. The photos on the web and in the magazine look incredible. They managed to avoid capturing the weedy spots and really focused on the charm of this place. Special thanks to everyone on the team that spent some early mornings with us! It was fascinating to see and be a part of the process.

And welcome new visitors to our blog! We hope you will find some of our experiences useful and entertaining. And perhaps you will encourage us to explore new plants, trees, garden structures and veggies. We certainly hope so!

This year the irises were sublime. Too bad we don’t have a wide angle lens to capture the mass effect. Here are a few worth commenting on.

My all time favorite iris. A random purchase at the Green Scenes Annual Plant Sale in Waterloo in ’08. Was not blooming when I bought it. Don’t know it’s name and don’t care. What a color!

Peach iris. I do not know the names of any of the iris I grow. Most are pass along plants.

The 2-toned iris in the foreground came out of a ditch up the road.

This is as much variety as I could capture with our regular lens.

This one starts out black and turns deep purple at the end of its bloom cycle.