Friends and neighbors,
Here’s our paltry showing for this month. As I write this, the snow is coming down off the Foothills in a flurry of what I hope are the last gasps of winter. Go away snow.

A couple of technical notes on this month’s post, for Carol of May Dreams Gardens, queen bee and instigator of GBBD: Dear Carol, do the plants have to be in the ground, or just IN THE GARDEN? The pulsatilla and forget me nots are not planted. But blooming, so there!

March 16th,
Dear Caroland Dee,
Here we are, the middle of March, the Ides of March, the first day of the Roman New Year . In ancient history, the Ides coincided with a full moon. I am certainly restless enough to howl at a full moon.

I always liked my adopted dad’s take on the Ides of March. He called it the “March Yips.” His theory of the yips: people were constantly yipping about cabin fever, everyone was fit-to-be-tied, and suffering of ennui (he loved doing the crossword puzzle in ink, hence his use of the word “ennui”). It was his sage observation women tended to run out and get a new hairdo (many went blonder), a new purse and new shoes. Since this happened to all women – not just ones who were Easter Episcopalians – he issued his official proclamation that the March Yips were upon us. Right about now. So, it is with a heavy sense of ennui, an arched eyebrow at the promise of spring, I can still manage a little smirk, when I think of him and the March Yips.

March in my garden isn’t much of an event. It’s something to be endured. It feels like being yanked around at the end of a bungee cord. Snow, sun, hail, rain, cold, days like this: WAIT! IT COULD BE 75! NO! Tonight it will crash back to 27. I look longingly at the garden books I have gathered around me, almost in fortress formation, keeping myself focused on the PROMISE of the new season.

I’d venture you all are planting peas and potatoes this week., on St.P’s day. It’s not smart to plant them here this early.Potatoes don’t go in until April 1, and peas do better if you wait until April 15th . By then, the soil is warmed up and they don’t rot in the ground. I’m waiting. I will HAVE to do some cleanup if only to make room for the hundreds of tulips that need to get to the light. I see lime green sprouts where the daylilies should be.

Heck, Dee, you have already set out tomatoes, right? Hah! I have two months to wait for that ritual.

I know Carol is busily sowing, sowing, and sowing her vegetables for the garden. She is so guilty of EGG & S. Egregious garden gloating and sowing.

Full of the March Yips, I made a hair appointment for next week (cut and highlights). I also went in search of plant material. In particular, to find the very best raspberry canes I could find to add to my measly little patch. I brought home some Heritage and some Lathams –everbearing and single season varieties. I found some of the biggest, fattest rhubarb crowns and bought those as well (oh, yes, there’s a reason for these). And, while at the nursery, I decided, in the chill of the moment, in the rain, to grow asparagus. I picked five nice, spidery Jersey Knight, all male crowns. The sign said these are highly productive and don’t waste any time or space or energy on making fronds or setting seeds. Amen, those are for me.

I am soaking the canes in a B12 root stimulator to get them off to a good start. I can easily get the holes dug. Even easier if I sweet talk the under gardener (husband) into doing it for me. Don’t tell him. The plan, and I do have one, is to get the asparagus tucked into a big perennial border. Ditto the rhubarb. I am not going to waste space on growing ornamental rhubarb when I can grow the REAL thing. I intend to make pies and tarts and jams with that rhubarb, but I’m truly longing to freeze a boatload of rhubarb juice for making rhubarb martinis. Yesirrreeee.

I want to get a plan together for planting some of my own potatoes. Haven’t grown them in 15 years. I am thinking about using a couple of old plastic trash cans, ones where the bottoms have worn through, and tucking them somewhere they won’t make me crazy with their ugliness. I’ve been reading up on this technique, kind of a “piling on”, and think it might be fun to try.

A couple months ago, I heard Michael Pollan speak here. He told how he got started writing the Omnivore’s Dilemma after visiting Monsanto potato fields here in Idaho. The spuds are so full of nasty stuff, they have to be set aside to “off gas” before being sent to the grocery story. EGAD. Nowadays, I am all about organic potatoes.

This very minute I am watching Alice Waters on 60 minutes. She wants a big ol’ veg garden at the White House. And one at my house. I want to plant plant plant and eat eat eat out of my garden this year. I’ve been eating from my garden all my life – I grew up that way. My hope is to really get back to the whole foods, local (backyard is local) idea. It’s what keeps me going and planning while waiting for March to be over.

I’ll be direct sowing some poppy seeds around the perennial beds this week, but mostly still waiting for the weather to finally warm up. Go easy on me when you write back. You know I am green with envy. And plant lust.

Your Idaho gardening friend,
MA

February may be the shortest month as far as calendar days go, but in my gardener’s mind, it is the longest, coldest, and dismal. With that in mind, I stolled around the garden, taking care to review what once was blooming bright. With any luck at all Spring is just around the corner.

Once upon a time, the blossoms of an Oakleaf Hydrangea

Orange no more: ganzania

The defeated flowers of a tiny blue succulent

Waiting for spring, salvia pachyphylla

Once an aster...

when big hips are a good thing

rudbeckia rues the day

Joe Pye, patiently waiting

I do have one little bit of floral drama, indoors: here she is, a blowsy wench of an amaryllis

Bit of a show-off, don't you think?

Even if you kick your feet and scream NO! I’ll bet most of you do a teensy weensy bit of reflection on where you’ve been and where you are headed in the New Year. In January, I reviewed the trends, made up my mind and set off in 2008 to grow my own…..food: lettuce, greens, tomatoes, berries, fruit and nuts.

Ken and Timm of the River Radio had me start the garden season on January 23 to talk the talk about growing your own food.

In February, the Svalbard Global Seed Vault, a Noah’s Ark for seeds, was open for business. A safe house for seeds from all over the planet, it has 4.5M seed samples. Protected by polar bears, armed guards and nasty cold, the vault has already withstood a 6.1 earthquake and can preserve seeds for 200 years even if the power goes out…..because of permafrost. I am guessing they calculated in global warming.

My small voice of thanks if offered up to the people who care about these issues, who work to protect our food supply and our horticultural heritage.

March was a great garden month for the Idaho Gardener. I had a chance to visit the ROCK (Alcatraz) with the head gardener for the Garden Conservancy program. They are restoring the prison gardens to their former glory in the middle of San Francisco Bay. On the same visit to San Francisco, a group of us stormed the Garden Show, dined at the Zuni Café, ate soft boiled eggs and toast at Café Fanny, ran into the enchanting Keeyla Meadows at breakfast which led to a happy-go-lucky tour of her unbelievable Berkeley garden. After a trip to the one and only Western Hills Nursery, we were able to stop at Cornerstone Gardens, an outdoor garden museum/art installation in the wine country.

In April the Austin Bloggers organized the first ever Spring Fling. We gathered in Austin to chat, learn, tour, eat, and carry on. What a good time we had! We saw lovely, stately, native, xeric, colorful, personal gardens for two days. We ate Texas barbeque, Mexican food, Texas Mar-tinis and ooohed and awed over the green roof at Starbucks.

Some wrote about the impending doom of the world food crisis and people eating mud pies in Haiti. In my little corner of the world I was carrying the banner and shouting the shout about growing and eating local food. This story line is still going strong as nurseries and seed companies reported a 40% spike in sales of veg seeds and seedlings. Grow it on America.

By May I was ready, once again, for a 12 step program for out of control plant buying. It overwhelms me every year. I did get the food program going on by planting more raspberries, lots of salad greens, 8 tomato plants, an apricot tree and a hazelnut tree.

The first week of June took me to North Idaho, my old stompin’ grounds, to the Palouse, and on up to Spokane for the Farm Chicks weekend, to Manitou Gardens with the former director, and back to Moscow to visit Mary Jane Butters. The trip was pure magic.

At the end of June, I was a Field Editor for a photo shoot for Garden Deck and Landscape Magazine (a special garden publication of Better Homes and Gardens). My pal Jeff Lightbody has created a gorgeous garden in the foothills of Boise. We spent two+ days with the art director, photographer and assistant, getting it all on film.

My raspberries were kickin’ in come July, but the air was disgusting (from the California wildfires) and I found myself sitting on the bottom of the reflecting pool chanting to keep the summer temps just a smidge below 105. Please, oh please, maybe even below 100.

My pal Debra arrived from LA and we took to the hills: the hills known as Sun Valley/Ketchum and the Wood River Valley. Debra’s new book had been out a couple of months, so we took wine and books to share, walked a dozen gardens, ate great food, and laughed ourselves silly.

Come August, I was barely hanging on, hoping it wouldn’t get blazin’ hot. I make another plea to Bring Back the Victory Garden while “little did I know” the economy was coming unraveled at the speed of heat. My garden was chugging along, one red tomato every two weeks. To keep myself entertained I set up the Gardening Olympics so my friends could compete for the gold.

On my very first trip to the wonderful Chi-town, Chicago, I sneaked over to the Lurie Garden at Millenium Park, not once, but twice. Living high on the hog.

September took me to Portland and the Garden Writers’ Annual Symposium. This event always rocks me to the core. Seven hundred or so writers showed up to be shown a good time in the City of Roses. A grand time was had by all. The highlight may have been the Chorus of the Goddess Flora. They brought down the house.

O is for October and Official and I became an O-fficial gardening examiner for Examiner.com, a new internet news service. Check me out at idahogardeningexaminer.com.

I created the not-entirely-official list of banned plants for the state of Idaho. So sue me. Better yet, take away my birthday.

In November, we had the immense good sense to elect a brilliant man to the White House. Things were looking up in my mind while winding down in the garden. I took a day to go to the Horticulture Symposium to listen to the wisdom of David Salman of High Country Gardens. Well worth every minute and dollar.

A big collection of heirloom pumpkins and squash made up a two month display (yes, it was EDIBLE) at the front door of Ranch duBois, home of your faithful Idaho Gardener.

Which brings us to December, just past the solstice, and the third snowiest December on record. There is a rumor goin’ round that the Obama White House may have a kitchen garden. How exciting and forward thinking is that? Stay tuned and stick with me as we continue the wild ride through the garden world in 2009 and beyond.

Good grief. I am going off on a rant here. The ranties over at Garden Rant will appreciate it even if you don’t.

I ask you, isn’t there a better way to spend $70,000 than to have someone install a high end potager/kitchen garden? “Plots as edible showplaces” is what the Wall Street Journal called the idea in an article “the Vegetable Garden goes Luxe.” Indeed. Yes, and then you let the stable workers, landscaper or limo chauffeur eat the produce. Damn, now isn’t that altruistic? And get this, these gardens are “installed at second homes they rarely visit…”. Yes, and one woman asked for her $50K veg patch instead of diamonds or a European vacation. Sounds like a true trade off to me. Shhhhhheesssh. Oh yeah, and sometimes she “catches guests admiring her produce. ”

Now this brings to mind the $180K community garden in San Francisco.

from AP phots by Scott Chernis.

Rumor has it the the garden will be bulldozed in October. Would someone do the math on this for me? If 100 square feet of garden space will feed one person, and if we can determine how many square feet of garden space there is in front of San Francisco’s city hall, then we can figure out how much $180,000 buys in terms of produce.

Then, my pal Robin, or Bumblebee, the Garden Examiner over at Examiner.com, posted about this wonderful pair of farmers in Portland OR, and their video, Cooking Up a Story. These gardening gals install small gardens in people’s back yards, replacing the useless turf with productive veg patches, give the homeowner a share of the produce and the rest goes into the CSA program. Brilliant. And it didn’t cost $50K.

Then of course, there is my good neighbor, Bill Meeker, head honcho gardener at the Vineyard Christian Fellowship garden where, last year, on a third of an acre, with only volunteer help and a very small budget, they raised 20,000 pounds of food and fed over 4000 people. My hort fund raising group helped them out this year and hopes to help for many years to come. Bill want to go big, maybe two and a half acres. Oh, and he would like to add a hospital for folks who can’t afford the institutional medical system. (VIneyard already has a school and clinic).

Go ahead, read between the lines. People are fed up instead of being fed, got a problem with that?

Pulled two hours of garden time this afternoon, deadheading, making futile stabs at the spotted (a.k.a. nasty-ass) spurge, and making mental notes of all the things I hate about my garden this time of year and honey, the list is long.

Of course, this has NOTHING to do with the fact our ozone levels are B. A. D. and the city and valley are under a nasty smoky haze and you can’t see anything and it smells like a fire and didn’t I whine about this last year? Ruh-oh.

OK, so back to the garden. We are going for Truth or Dare here. Don’t tell anyone, but I actually get PAID to design gardens for other people. And the truth be told, and it must be, folks generally love what I do for them. HOWEVER, when it comes to my garden, I swear I have created some of the ugliest combos on the planet. This can be chalked up to experimentation, and it’s probably why the crappy combos don’t end up in OPGs (other peoples’ gardens), but man, some of my little beds are so ugly even the tide wouldn’t take them out. If we had a tide.

Lordy, you should see the big one, the one I have to look at every single day. It’s probably why I am always with a glass of wine in hand when I am on the patio. OK, it wasn’t so bad when it was a triangle shaped bed of echinops ritro, agastache ‘Ava’, delosperma ‘Table Mountain’ , echinacea ‘Sundown’ and miscanthus ‘Morning Light.’ No, that was pretty decent: blue, soft purple, hot pink and bronze with a little tweak of coral from the Sundown. It brought me joy, especially when the hummers were so busy in the evening. That was lovely. AND THEN…

What happened? This year, there is a 4 foot border on that bed of gaillardia ‘Burgundy’ and right in the middle of everything a striking, exquisite, deep burnt orange with an almost burgundy center spider-type daylily, which is about 5 feet tall. Smack in the center. And Tall. Beautiful plant, but so ugly in this bed.

Was I trying to go Boise State Bronco colors or something with the orange and blue? Say what?

Truth be told, here’s what I think happened. I recall picking up a boatload of plants at the end of the season in 2007, you know, when even the wholesaler cuts prices: the gaillardia ‘Burgundy’ was a buck a gallon and I am sure they threw in the day lily. And I put them all in the wrong place. I was desperate. Now I am stuck, until it cools down, so I can transplant them and do the drop dead red bed.

Which is not on the plan now.

Red Dirt Girl, you know anything about predicaments like this? Didn’t think so.