Thrilling Blog Changes Coming Soon
- On January 04, 2018
- By Meleah
- In Uncategorized
- 0
Hello dear blog subscribers.
This is just a quick note to let you know that I will be soon be changing my blog a bit, including giving it a new name—Livin’ Thing.
If I do all the technology stuff right, fingers crossed, you will simply start getting my blog in its new form at http://livinthing.com/
If things go off the rails, well, I may send out another message begging you to please subscribe to the new site. I don’t think that will happen though because everything’s going to work splendidly, right? Totally.
See you soon. – m
How Raccoons Turned Our Gardens Into a Toilet
Here’s a fact you might not know, and probably, actually, don’t want to know: raccoons like to defecate communally. Yep, that’s right, they like to poop as a group, which is fine, I suppose, until the place they decide to call their toilet is already your front yard. Gross? Totally. But that is what happened at our house this summer, and I want to tell you the story, partly because it’s disgusting and bizarre, but also because maybe you’re like me and you think it’s fun to learn interesting stuff about other living creatures. If so, stay tuned. If not, now is your chance to RUN AWAY.
Here is the thing: I love wildlife to the point where I know I drive some people mad when I’m all, “Oh, calm down. It’s just a few gopher holes and, no, I won’t tell you how to kill them.” Or, “Yes, squirrels and chipmunks do damage some plants and take bites out of tomatoes. But they’re cute and the outdoors belongs to them as much or more than it does to us. So, no, I won’t tell you how to kill them.”
This live-and-let-live mindset is plain old good karma to my husband, Mike, and me. So when a family of raccoons started visiting our yard most nights this summer, we watched in wonder as they emerged from the sewer (Linden Hills’ sewers seem to be filled with raccoons) and trundled in a line down the path to the huge oak tree near our front door. Up the tree they would go, and then they’d stare silently down at us for a while before getting bored—or maybe comfortable—with our wine drinking and card playing or whatever. Pretty soon a couple of them would scooch over to the bird feeders and start shoveling food into their mouths with both paws. We noticed right away that, unlike squirrels, who behave like maniacs when they have to share food, the raccoons were very polite to each other, even going so far as to move out of the way so that somebody else could get closer to the good stuff.
All of that snacking must have left the coons feeling parched because every morning, one of the two water bowls we leave out for thirsty critters was always empty. The other, smaller bowl was mostly empty too. But that bowl was always filled with mud, sticks and a bit of bird food or berries. Curious, I looked it up and learned that raccoons often dunk their food in water before they eat it. Scientists used to think that’s because they were washing their food, but further study revealed that raccoons dunk things in water to make their paws more sensitive to touch. Why? I’m so glad you asked. You see, raccoons don’t have the best vision, which is partly why you often see them tapping their paws on the ground rather than just looking right at stuff. Anyway, what raccoons do have is the same nerve groupings in their forepaws as primates, including humans. Getting their hands wet, scientists have found, increases nerve responsiveness, amping up their sense of touch so they can better understand important stuff about whatever they are about to stick into their mouths.
Freak out and scream, “RABIES!” if you want. But the truth is, and you can look this up, most raccoons do not have rabies and even if they do, transmission to people is extremely rare. Our raccoon family showed no signs of aggression, and Mike and I really enjoyed having them in our lives. The one worry for us was our dog, Lily, who thinks all creatures want to play with her. So we were careful not to let her our after dark. If she just had to go, we went with her, and everything was fine.
Well, everything was fine until the pooping started. I was filling the water dishes one day when I noticed a neat pile of really dark little turds. At first I thought they might be from a cat because half the neighborhood lets their cats live outside (do not get me started on that topic). But this poo was black, like charcoal, and oddly tube-shaped. I took a picture, which I chose not to share with you so; you’re welcome. I looked it up and sure enough—raccoon poo. We weren’t thrilled but figured, hey, everybody has to go sometime, and threw it away. (Yes we know raccoons can be infected with round worms. We wore gloves.)
A couple of weeks passed and there was more poo, only this time there were three piles instead of one. Adding to the grossness was a huge mound of barfed-up berries, which seemed to have come back up whole, so I guess they didn’t agree with somebody’s tummy. After that, things got worse fast and we were waking up to five, six, even seven piles of poo (some from coons who clearly needed to see a gastroenterologist), as well as an increasing amount of barf. So now our yard was not only a toilet, it was also a vomitorium. AWESOME.
Again, I turned to the Internet for answers, and that’s when I found out that once raccoons find a lovely place that feels safe and comfortable, they turn it into their own personal group toilet. I can sort of see that, I guess. But for a lot of reasons, Mike and I don’t want to muck out our little friends’ crapper and vomitorium every day. So, though we were sad to have to do it, we stopped filling the bird feeders, took away the water dishes and sprinkled fox urine granules all over the place, which is supposed to scare critters away. I can tell you this; the stench of fox urine has scared us away from our front porch. But we’re still dealing with some poop and barf, though less often. So, yeah, lesson learned. Now if we could just figure out a way to install an actual outdoor toilet that they could use.
Nice Plants for Northern Gardens
- On October 03, 2017
- By Meleah
- In Natives, Perennials, Plant Spotlight, Uncategorized
- 0
Before I start nattering on about plants I like, let me first tell you that, as always in the fall, the Little Free Seed Library is up and running at my house. You’ll find it on the boulevard on the corner of 45th Street and Washburn Ave. South. I’ve already started putting out seeds I’ve collected from our gardens, and neighbors have been dropping off more. I hope you’ll consider bringing some seeds to share, and if you do, please bring them in envelopes or baggies that are clearly marked with the name of the plant. I’ve put small, coin-sized envelopes in the seed library so people can choose seeds from larger envelopes, and pack them up easily to take home. (For more information on the seed library, check out this blog post.)
Okay, now let’s talk about plants. I like to buy a few new plants every year. It’s fun to have something new in the garden, and it’s always interesting to see how they do—or don’t do, as is the case with nearly every Japanese anemone I’ve ever planted except Anemone tomentosa ‘Robustissima’. That beauty has survived whatever my brown-thumb problem is with these plants.
Anyway, I’d like to tell you about a few plants that I’ve tried and come to love over the past couple of years. First up: Astilbe ‘Chocolate Shogun’. The dark purple foliage of this unique astilbe looks beautiful in my shade gardens where I’ve paired them with hostas, ligularia and yellow-leaved ‘Sun King’ Japanese spikenard. Hardy down to horrifyingly cold Zone 3 (Minneapolis is Zone 4), ‘Chocolate Shogun’ grows 18 to 24 inches high and does best in partial shade. Even when established, these plants need to be watered so try to group them with other plants that like a little extra moisture, such as ligularia, dwarf goatsbeard and foam flower (Tiarella cordifolia).
If you’ve never grown epimedium, let me introduce you. There are several varieties to choose from for our region. I’m partial to Snowy Epimedium (Epimedium x youngianum ‘Niveum’), which is hardy to Zone 4. These delicate-looking shade-loving plants grow 6 to 8 inches tall and up to 18 inches wide. The heart-shaped foliage is pretty enough to make this a must-have for me, but the miniature white flowers that appear in early spring are a much-needed respite from winter.
Feeling pretty sick of bee balm looking great and then getting covered with disgusting powdery mildew by July? Me too. That’s why I’d recommend Eastern bee balm (Monarda bradburiana). Hardy to Zone 4, plants grow to about 2 feet tall and wide, and they are nicely clumped rather than floppy like some bee balms can be. Plant these in full sun to partial shade and bees and hummingbirds will zoom in to enjoy them.
I’ve got a couple of different varieties of goatsbeard in my gardens, but my current favorite is ‘Horatio’ (Aruncus ‘Horatio’). Hardy to Zone 4, plants grow to about 3 feet tall and wide and will do best in partial shade—though they can tolerate full sun. I love the dark green leaves on this variety, as well the white, fringed blooms, which have a faintly sweet smell.
Lungwort (Pulmonaria) sounds like a horrid plant, but it’s really quite lovely despite its name, which came about because the plants’ leaves were long ago used unsuccessfully to treat lung infections. Over the years I have added many varieties of lungwort to my gardens. All have their good points, really, but Pulmonaria ‘Raspberry Splash’ is my favorite. Hardy to Zone 4, these plants grow to about 12 inches high and are said top out at about 18 inches wide. In truth, the ones in my front gardens are much wider, so huge, in fact, that people often wonder if they are “some kind of spotted hosta”. Plants will do best in partial shade and are covered in early spring with raspberry-colored blooms.
Gardening Q & A
Summer is winding down, which means it is once again time for my semi-annual roundup of some of the more unusual, or at least less-common, gardening questions I answered this season. Hopefully there’s something here that you’ll find interesting or helpful.
How do I save tomato seeds?
It’s easier than you might think. Scrape the pulp from a few of the same tomatoes into a jar with some water in it and stir. Put a lid on the jar and let it sit for a three or four days at room temperature, stirring a couple of times a day. You want seeds to drop to the bottom so add more water if you need to and continue to stir. Once there are many seeds on the bottom of the jar, skim off floating seeds and any mold, if you see some. Carefully pour out some of the water and add fresh water before skimming the top again. Once the container looks clean and there is little to nothing floating, pour off all of the water through a fine strainer and spread your seeds out to dry. I use a dinner plate, but you can also use screen or a cutting board, whatever works.
Can I use Milorganite to condition straw bale gardens before planting?
I’d say gardeners have to decide this for themselves. Here are the facts: Milorganite is a fertilizer made from treated sewer sludge from the Milwaukee Metropolitan Sewerage District. The sludge, which comes in pellet form and smells kind of gross, but not in the way you would think, is marketed as being great for trees, shrubs, lawns and home gardens. It is also a good deer and rabbit repellent. The problem is, while Milorganite is deemed safe for consumer use by the US Environmental Protection Agency, testing has shown that it contains contaminants that the treatment process cannot remove, such as heavy metals, pathogens, pharmaceuticals and other toxic chemicals. Because of this, I steer clear of using it on or near edible plants. If you’re going to plant a straw bale, there are many other safe, organic fertilizers to choose from.
I want a red-blooming delphinium. Is there such a thing?
Happily, there are some varieties of red delphinium, and I would suggest ‘Red Caroline,’ which has coral-colored blooms that darken to red as they mature. Like most delphinium, they will do best if you stake them so they won’t topple over. Pollinators and hummingbirds love these flowers, and plants are hardy to Zone 4, so they will survive our horrifying winters. While you might find these in garden centers, it’s probably easier to go online and order either seeds or plants.
Is garlic a good insect repellent?
Yes, it definitely can be. You can buy various types of garlic-based sprays and oils, or you can make your own by tossing two large cloves of garlic and 4 cups of water into a blender. Strain the mush through some cheesecloth once or twice and dilute what’s left with another cup of water. Test the garlic repellent on a plant or two that you don’t care about so much before spraying it widely; just to be sure you’re not causing any damage. Tests have shown that whiteflies, some types of beetles and aphids are all repelled by garlic, though be aware that your garden’s going to be a bit smelly for a few days.
Battling Japanese Beetles
- On August 11, 2017
- By Meleah
- In Bugs, Organic Gardening, Perennials, Soil, Uncategorized, What In Tarnation?
- 2
In the last half an hour since I came in from the garden, at least two Japanese beetles have flown out of my hair, headed for who knows where in my house. But that was nothing compared to the one that just crawled boldly out of the waistband of my jeans. I squished it. Just one week ago I was breathing a sigh of relief that our Southwest Minneapolis neighborhood seemed, once again, to be mostly dodging the Japanese beetle plague after being hit really hard in 2011. And then I spotted them on my roses, and the Virginia creeper and the grape vines and the river birch trees. Soon they will move on to other plants they love, including my basil, and I will hate them for that, especially.
I have been battling Japanese beetles in earnest for five days now and, as you probably already know from having experienced them yourselves—I am losing. There are a lot of reasons for that; the biggest being that they are demons from hell and there is nothing mortals can do to stop them. But that aside, I also don’t like to use chemicals outside or inside, so my strategy for getting rid of them amounts to going around knocking them off of my plants and into a plastic bowl filled with soapy water. Yes, I do wear a glove on the beetle scooping hand. I have heard anecdotally that the beetles can bite, but that has never happened to me. I just prefer to keep them off my hand skin whenever possible.
Before I say more about how to deal with these gross creatures, let me first explain a bit about Japanese beetles for those who have been living in a cave or condo for years, and/or are just new to the perils of gardening. About the size of a dime with futuristic-looking, gold and green bodies, Japanese beetles are actually kind of attractive if you’re into metallic bug robots. They were first spotted in Minnesota in 1968, but with the exception of a brief period in 2000 and 2001, they didn’t become much of a problem until about 2005.
Though the Japanese beetle life cycle is a short 60 days or so, they can do a lot of damage in that amount of time. Females lay eggs beneath turf grass in the summer, and around June or early July the following year their offspring emerge and fly off to their favorite plants (they are attracted to about 300 different plant species) where they mate in zombie-like orgiastic piles while skeletonizing leaves and pooping everywhere. Pheromones released by the beetles during this whole scene, which I swear I am not exaggerating, attract more and more beetles, and in a short time the areas where they gather are both denuded of foliage and reeking to high heaven, as my grandma used to say.
Anyway, let’s get back to how to get rid of them. Because the pheromones they release attract more beetles, it’s best to reduce their numbers if you can. So, as I said earlier, I go around murdering them every day with a glove on one hand and a bowl of soapy water in the other. I do this by slipping the bowl under a bunch of them, and then I gently brush the beetle piles into the water and move on to the next spot. Even when they are not enraptured by beetle sex, these are not fast-moving creatures—unless they start to fly—so it’s pretty easy to knock hundreds of them into a bowl of water in about 20 minutes.
Here’s a tip—don’t get super ambitious like I did today and try to brush a wide swath of them into the bowl at one time because loads of startled beetles will fly up and into your hair, your shirt pockets and your jeans—one even ricocheted off my lips. And here’s another tip—don’t hang up one of those Japanese beetle pheromone traps because they do work by attracting lots of beetles. The problem is they attract a whole lot more beetles to your yard than that trap will ever be able to deal with. Study after study has shown this and yet hardware stores keep selling out of these traps. Spread the word.
If you don’t handpick Japanese beetles or use ill-advised traps, all of the other reasonable-sounding ways to control them involve insecticides, either synthetic or organic, and most, if not all of those are toxic to pollinators and other living things in one way or another. I love my gardens and it pains me to see them torn apart by ravenous, sex-crazed beetles. But, it doesn’t make sense to me to resort to chemicals that are known to be harmful, even when used according to their labels, which often advise spraying at night so the product will hopefully be dry by morning when bees start visiting plants. What? No. I can live with a few beetles in my hair.