Growing The Future

“ Screen time” is a hot button issue. As adults, we’re all guilty of wasting ( yes, I said wasting ) far too much time on our digital devices. And being an adult, means we should know better and do better. The choice is simple – get away from whatever electronic devise you’ve developed an unseemly attachment to and do something useful, creative and meaningful instead.

But when it comes to our children, it’s become a true dilemma. I’m not going to elaborate into this because we’re all aware of the problem. There are enough data out there confirming that the young are exposed daily to far too much screen time. Recently, the American Association of Pediatrics put out new recommendations on this topic.

Recommendations are all very well but good, fun alternatives must be offered as well. New interests and hobbies are key. As parents/caregivers/teachers, it starts with setting a good examples ourselves. Needless to say, our own passions and pastimes serve the cause best. So, what are you doing with your time?

Given that outdoor activities are unanimously extolled as antidotes to boredom, stress, anger, poor physical and mental health, I am unsurprisingly making a solid case for children taking up gardening. It is instructive in responsibility and time-management, educational in the sciences, physically demanding, therapeutic, creative, useful and, best of all, hugely rewarding. Exposing a child to the powers and wonders of nature is perhaps one of the single most gratifying experiences. We’re putting at their disposal a toolbox for life-management. Something they can use consistently for the rest of their lives.

I’ve written previously about getting children involved in the garden and, it bears reaffirming the ways to do so. Here goes –

Give them a plot of their own. A patch in the sun, amended with compost ( another lesson to teach!) for a child to work on freely. If space is at a premium, a big planter or a raised bed on a terrace will do just fine. Here, a young one can learn all the lessons of tending a garden. And you, the adult will have no worries about other parts of the garden being accidentally dug up or trampled upon.

Give them the right tools. Not toy tools! Invest in a good set of gardening tools designed for small hands. The right size will make all the difference in both their morale and in their work. Toss in a small wheelbarrow as well!

Provide some early gratification. Patience is not a virtue found in children. Let them begin with quick growing crops like radishes, arugula and other salad leaves. From seed sowing to harvest, these will take about four weeks. Starting with young plants that will flower or fruit quickly are also good options. Let the child have a say in what they want to grow. They will be so proud to provide to the family table and flower vases. In time, they can have fun growing watermelon radish, purple carrots, zebra tomatoes, lemon cucumbers – stuff that is attractively different and not commonly found in the supermarket. Same with flowers – black pansies, green zinnias, giant sunflowers in colors of gaudy sunsets …

Offer extras. Build with them butterfly, bird and bug houses. Create butterfly gardens full of native wildflowers. Set up a birdbaths and bird-feeders. Permit specialization – they can develop collections of whatever plants they like most. From succulents to dahlias to tomatoes, a young gardener can become an expert on any particular plant. Give them bulbs to plant in the fall – their eager anticipation for the spring and sheer delight at observing the bulbs emerge and bloom will get them hooked to gardening. Even jaded teenagers will get weak-kneed at the sight of a bed of daffodils trumpeting open. Mark my words.

Let them grow further. Show them how to learn about what they see. Bird watching, butterfly spotting – identifying and creating an electronic log book could well give them lifelong hobbies to pursue. Show them how to take photos and/or make drawings, sketches or paintings of their gardens, the creatures that visit and finally, of their produce. Developing their creativity gives more meaning to their efforts in the garden.

Tie it all in. To show that you’re not being a Luddite or fuddy-duddy, encourage them to blog or vlog about their gardening life through the seasons. Posting on Instagram their own fabulous, homegrown flowers and vegetables will be exciting. After all, you want them to know that you aren’t anti-technology. You just want them to be well-balanced individuals. Just like you n/est pas?

Note: Exciting news! Mark your calendars! Get your tickets! Click here to find out!

There is still time to see the ‘Waterfront’ show in which I have a painting. Don’t miss the views of the city from the windows there!

Here are some photos taken over the years –

Getting May baskets ready

Bulb planting

Making music in the tree-house. Garden Open Day 2011

Harvesting apples from the espalier orchard

There’s always time for play

(c) 2018 Shobha Vanchiswar

 

The Long View

I’m not letting the languorous days of summer lull me into complacency. The days might be too hot and muggy to do much physically in the garden but, there’s still plenty by way of planning, reviewing, ordering and scheduling that can be addressed. Now is when we look ahead to the fall and the next year.

With that in mind, I have been busy. Last week, I ordered my bulbs for fall planting. The largest order to date and I’m trying not to think about the amount of work it’ll take to plant all those hundreds and hundreds of bulbs.

Separately, there will be new perennials to plant and existing ones to divide and replant as well. This week, I’m working on the list of perennials I’m going to order through my local nursery. The rather ambitious list needs whittling to suit the wallet and the practical aspects in the garden. My modest sized garden can only hold so much.

In planning the “new and improved” beds, I’ve had to confront the fact that a couple of trees have grown so much that there is far more shade than there used to be. There is a clear need for more sun if the garden I’ve created is to thrive. So last week, I consulted with an arborist and the decision was made to elevate the lower canopy and reduce spread of the upper canopy to reduce shade to the garden areas. Prune dead and weak limbs back to sound tissue. Fingers crossed that this will open up the garden sufficiently.

This project must get done well before the fall planting is to begin.

A task I’ve become expert at avoiding is that of getting rid of plants that have either not performed as expected or were mistakes altogether. Ousting a plant makes me feel guilty. It seems cruel. However, I’ve given the matter a lot of thought recently and I’m now ready to send eviction notices. Okay, not quite so harshly.

How did I have a change of heart? It occurred to me that getting rid of otherwise perfectly good and healthy plants was no different from cleaning out and organizing my clothes closet. When certain garments, still in good condition, no longer fit or suit my taste, I’m quite happy to toss out them out. The discarded items get donated to charity or anyone who might covet them. The same approach should work with the plants – there are gardeners out there who need my rejects. I myself have gratefully been on the receiving end of other people’s discards. I cannot explain why it’s taken me so long to come to this realization.

While all this planning is underway, I’m considering reconfiguring a couple of beds. I’m not sure as yet of the aesthetics but I expect to make a decision in a few weeks. After all, this too will need to be done and ready in time for the bulbs and plants come fall.

You see? No mindless languishing on the hammock. No rest for the wicked …

Note: The vertical garden is looking rather fetching at present. Enjoy!

The sunflower that decided it wanted to be a wall flower!

Weary window-boxes

Coneflower color

(c) 2018 Shobha Vanchiswar

Finally Fall

Whew! The garden is finally put to bed. An unusual season of warm, dry days pushed back the fall’s must-dos till I was almost getting into a panic. Not only were we denied of a proper showing of the autumnal foliage that typically takes ones breath away, the garden itself remained green and happy that I couldn’t quite bring myself to cut back or pull out at the normal time. However, as October gave way to November and the days remained unseasonably mild, even as I took pleasure in the slow pace, I grew uneasy. A sudden, protracted cold spell would make it difficult to get all the work done or worse, make some of the tasks impossible to complete.

On the surface, delays of a couple of weeks or so don’t seem so bad. But in the grand scheme of things, it can make a big difference. Prolonged warm weather can fool plants to use up their energy by putting out new growth only to have that killed when the inevitable cold weather does arrive. Shorter winters will in turn affect growth and blooms in springs. Migrating birds might decide to linger during the extended warm weather and then find it is too late to make their long journey south – many will perish trying. There are numerous consequences to seemingly minor fluctuations in weather.

The vertical garden has been the highlight throughout. It has looked breathtakingly lush giving one a false sense of its hardiness. I’ve decided that this year, all the plants will be left in place and I’m contemplating installing a ‘flap’ of bubble-wrap to give some protection/insulation from the cold whilst still letting some air circulate so as not to cook the plants should the temperature spike suddenly or on those warm days of a January thaw.

The ‘Heritage’ rose is currently in bloom and the wisterias are only just beginning to turn yellow. A quick pruning will take place this coming weekend. We’re still picking kale and Swiss chard from the potager. Likewise, pots of herbs are seasoning our meals. I could get used to this! Some of those herbs just barely got into the greenhouse ahead of the cold weather last Friday.

The major number of plants in the greenhouse had been installed a few weeks but the door was kept open till recently. The propane heater was started only a couple of days ago.

As I’d already reported, the front lawn was de-thatched and reseeded in early October. The mild weather got the new grass growing rapidly and now it has the appearance of almost being in need of a mowing. Go figure.

The annual meadow cut-back typically happens by mid to late October. This year, it took place last week.

Outdoor furniture has finally been put away and the water hoses emptied and brought indoors. Only the winter wrapping of the large pots and setting up wind barriers for the roses remain.

The bulbs for fall planting arrived in mid-October at what is their normal time of planting. but the soil was simply too warm for them. The shipment sat patiently while I grew more anxious about running out of time to get the hundreds of bulbs into the ground. Bulb planting cannot be hurried. Making sure each variety is planted at the right depth ( three times the vertical height of the bulb) and not disturbing bulbs from previous years is a challenge. The back and legs have much to complain about after planting. It’s that singular vision of the spring garden looking spectacular with bulbs in bloom that keeps me going. The task gets harder with each passing year but I cannot imagine not having these bulbs, corms and rhizomes enriching the garden annually.

This past weekend, in bitter cold, the bulbs got planted. Hallelujah.

As anticipated, we went from the luxury of those extended days of balmy weather when only a few seasonal chores could be performed, to a frenzied state of getting everything else done in suddenly frigid temperatures. Not fun at all. But, they got done. Whew again.

In the greenhouse

The meadow showed no signs of autumn. Most plants simply died back and the rest stayed green. The cut-back was not the big deal that it usually is.

David Austen’s Heritage rose.

!!!

(c) 2017 Shobha Vanchiswar

Changing Forecast, Forecasting Change

It never hurts to keep looking for sunshine” – Eeyore ( Winnie-the-Pooh by A.A. Milne)

There are signs of this season of senescence everywhere and yet, in this final stretch of October, it seems as though a great number of trees are stubbornly holding on to their still-green leaves. Usually by this time, the fall foliage has peaked setting the world aglow like a virtual bonfire. I notice that the squirrels do not seem as madcap busy as they typically are at this time of year. Even the weather has been more like summer. It feels quite odd to be taking care of tasks that put the garden to bed when the days seem as though autumn is still weeks away.

Because the meadow is still quite green, I’ve delayed it’s annual mow-down by three weeks. However, elsewhere I have cut back my perennials leaving only some ornamental grasses as they look so ethereal in the afternoon sun. The greenhouse is filled up with the tender plants as one never knows when that first major frost will arrive, the espalier fruit trees have been pruned so a snowstorm won’t harm the limbs, and pots are cleaned and put away so a freeze-thaw cannot break them. Contrarily, I’m keeping the terrace on the ready for al fresco meals as long as the weather will permit.

The hundreds of bulbs I ordered in July have arrived. But the ground is way too warm for planting. I’m hoping I’ll get the all-clear from the weather gods and can begin this task in a couple of weeks.

In the front lawn, the newly seeded grass has come up nicely. If the mild days continue, it’ll need a mowing!

It’s not like I’m complaining because doing chores in the garden is infinitely better when sweaters and gloves are not required. Still, I’m a little concerned. Whilst reveling in the surprisingly gorgeous weather, we are in dire need of rain. What price will we pay for these beautiful days? How will this change in climate affect the flora and fauna? From budding to flowering, to putting out fruit and seeds, the plants must adapt. Likewise, for the animals, migratory patterns, hibernating periods, mating and reproductive times will need adjusting. All the flora and fauna must coordinate these changes in-order to serve each other as they always have. Their survival depends on it. Our own species depends on it. Perhaps the short term effects will be minimal but the long term impact can be big. I have the distinct impression that we ought to be buckling up. There’s a bumpy ride ahead.

Normally, the wisteria is a bright yellow in counterpoint to the rosy hues of the red male.

Trees have either dropped their leaves in a hurry or are reluctant to turn color.

The new lawn looks spring ready!

I love how the espalier turns sculptural. Just in time for winter visual interest.

The last roses are still looking beautiful

Grasses add such interest in the garden.

(c) 2017 Shobha Vanchiswar

The Gift Of The Ordinary

It’s been hard to get away from the news these days. Everywhere one looks there is something gone awry. Disorder, discord and destruction is seemingly the new normal. Tempers are running high while spirits are low. Between Mother Nature’s might and all the political unrest, our world feels unsettled and out of alignment. It’s an extraordinarily heartbreaking time at present. It’s overwhelming and one wonders what the point of it all might be. While I reach out to those struggling to recover from natural disasters and man-made horrors, my heart reminds me to seek solace in the gift of the ordinary.

We take ordinary for granted. In fact, we often complain about it right? Seeking excitement and the extraordinarily, we whine about the same old-same old, the mundane, the quotidian. But it’s precisely those humdrum, routine tasks that give us certain assurance. They tell us that all is as it should be. Things are normal. There is wondrous peace in that.

This past week, in trying to process all the goings on and looking for how I can be of most service, I’ve found such comfort in doing the unremarkable chores in the garden. Whilst weeding, I’ve observed the earthworms tilling the earth and the bees making their rounds. The seed pods rattling in the breeze that brings a fresh shower of leaves in colors of the sun. I’ve taken note of the slender green needles of emerging grass from the recently seeded front lawn. In tucking away the pots of tender plants into the greenhouse, I’m reassured that they will be warm and safe through the cold months. Picking Swiss chard for supper, I’m struck by how much I enjoy this vegetable and how it keeps giving well into early December. Washing out the large pots now emptied of their seasonal contents, I watch the birds raid the meadow for seeds and bugs. The low slant of the afternoon light sets aglow the asters as though reminding the butterflies and bees there remains only a few more hours before visiting hours are over. Meanwhile, in another corner, the light turns the swaying heads of ornamental grasses into feathers of polychromatic optic fibers. Cutting back the plants will have to wait another week or two – this senescence is so beautiful .

These familiar chores put my heart at ease and for one all too brief period, my fear, anxiety, anger, sorrow and frustration are forgotten. Ordinary is good.

I wrote the poem below three years ago. It expresses the same sentiments.

The Gift Of The Ordinary

The early demand

to make room

for still warm toes

and sleep tousled hair

against my languid self.

 

Sandwiched between

husband and child

Wide awake

much too hot

wouldn’t change a thing.

 

Quick kisses, rushed goodbyes

Sudden quiet amidst the dishes

Hours open

creative freedom

the comfort of home.

 

Laundry rituals, weekly menus

Deadlines, submissions

instep with

family time, date night

snatched moments of solitude.

 

Belonging, beloved

sleep deprived on a good day

Supported, cheered

trailing behind on paperwork

The gift of the ordinary.

                                             –Shobha Vanchiswar

Note: I hope you will visit one or all of the art shows I’m in this month!

Rainbow chard

Moving into the greenhouse in progress

(c) 2017 Shobha Vanchiswar

Turncoat!

Turncoat!

My eyes open and there you are

on the other side of the window

shining gold in the sunlight

enticing your tribe to do the same

Turncoat!

Yellow ocher, russet, sienna, plum

you’ve painted yourself anew

discarding all the serenity of greens

olive, sap, chartreuse, moss

Turncoat!

Outdoing summer’s brights

you’ve set the world aflame

no word you’re abandoning ship

you simply switched loyalty

Turncoat!

I’m loathe to see the change

yet, I’m awed by your brilliance

I feel cheated, betrayed

Though I’ve always known what you are

Turncoat!

Shobha Vanchiswar

I’m happily back from my travels and slowly adjusting to ‘business as usual’. The garden is a riot of color and disarray. As it should be since I’ve been away all of six long weeks. The apples were harvested from the espalier fence yesterday. A very fall-like activity and yet, the weather feels like high summer. Having missed a chunk of the warm season here, I’m really not ready for autumn. It’s oddly disorienting actually. I’m sensing a bit of resentment within when I notice the trees turning color and fallen leaves carpeting the ground.

I’m not quite prepared to tackle that long list of October chores. Harvest fruit, collect seeds, cut back, rake leaves, plant new additions, annual mowing of meadow, reseed front ‘lawn’, clean up, put away, move tender perennials in pots into the greenhouse, clean greenhouse first and then, when the ground is cool enough, plant the hundreds of bulbs which will be arriving imminently. Clearly, no rest for the wicked.

Indeed, I adore fall. After spring it is my favorite season. But that does not mean I cannot be irrational about missing so much of summer despite the fact I had a perfectly great time elsewhere. Go figure. I simply want my cake and eat it too.

Note: Heads Up! In October, I will be participating in four art shows in the Westchester area. Details will be posted next week. I do hope you will make time to visit the shows. Your support and feedback is invaluable.

The vertical still looks lovely

Grossly neglected perennial beds. Yet, their wildness has a certain appeal.

Apples on the espalier

Turtleheads still in bloom in the meadow

 

(c) 2017 Shobha Vanchiswar