Gardenig in state Oregon. Tips & Guides

A quick way to clean the algae out of a garden water feature after a long, dark, and wet winter is to use a power washer. It only takes a few minutes to dislodge the long mats of algae, and the low volume of water that blows out of the nozzle doesn’t disturb even the smallest of rocks. Start at the top of where the water flows and work your way down to the bottom of the feature. This is a lot easier and more effective than grabbing the strands by hand and then using a brush to clean the rest away. You can see the difference in these “before” and “after” photos. I enjoy this a lot more than power washing the patio.

D espite our best efforts, we humans can’t do it all. Life in the 21st century often moves at a busy pace and is jam-packed with responsibilities and wonderfully abundant ways for us to spend our “free time.” While many of us love to spend a large chunk of that time enjoying our gardens, we don’t necessarily love (or have the necessary resources) to care for them. As a landscape designer, I’ve found that one of the best ways to create sustainable gardens for my clients is to develop designs that work with the sites, not against them, while also hitting on the clients’ wish lists.

Living and working in northwestern Oregon, garden designer Wesley Younie is no stranger to dealing with challenging environments. When presented with this garden’s elevation changes, drainage management, and extreme climate conditions, he devised a plan that addresses it all—along with a specific functional wish list from the homeowners. Want to know which plants he used? Here are the plant IDs for this beautiful, sustainable landscape.

Moving is an undertaking, no matter how you slice it. Navigating the renting or buying process, finding the funds to invest in a new place, and packing up all of your belongings takes a lot of time and effort. Often, overwhelmed by everything else, we forget about the money that goes into actually making the move. You'll need to finalize your budget and make sure you have what you need to move before getting started—but what does it really cost to move? Home services website Angi surveyed 1,000 people to find out just how much it takes, so you can be better equipped for the next big transition.

Blue is not the colour you associate with foliage but if you can bend your eyes just a little around the silver – grey through to green spectrum there may be some surprises.

Winter can start in December and continue through March (we even worry about snow in May up north) but do not let that put you off flowering plants.

Every winter I am on the Oregon trail for garden scent. My best hope is the Mahonia (aka Oregon grape) which grows very well in various shady parts of my garden and flowers profusely in winter. Regrettably I find the much acclaimed scent is hard to detect but smell is not the only thing that gets up my nose! The rigid leaves have several vicious points on  the arrayed leaves and catch me out many times a year. This is partly due to a 6 foot shrub near my Japanese garden path. I don’t know what made me think Mahonia was suitable in a Japanese garden but there you go. As a deterrent to uninvited visitors the prickles make it as good as Holly and a close second to Berberis.

St. Patrick’s Day, March 17, is a popular celebration in the United States, due to the number of Americans, 10.5%, with Irish heritage. One million Irish emigrated to North America, Australia, or other parts of Great Britain in the mid-1800s because of the potato disease now known as late blight. Late blight, caused by the water mold, Phytophthora infestans, destroyed the Irish potato crops in 1845 through 1849 and caused the Irish Potato Famine. Another one million people died from hunger or disease.

I’ve stayed put long enough to outgrow my early mishaps, and have some favorite evergreens to share including the weeping Alaska cedar, which I have always known as Chamaecyparis nootkatensis ‘Pendula’ (above, in my far borders to the west of the house). Lately it has been placed in a new genus, Xanthocyparis, but my old habits die hard. Two weeping Alaska cedars grow here now, the first a 40th birthday present from my garden mentor; the other (above) a few years younger. Each one is about 25 feet. Though they are said to reach 60 or even 90 feet in the wild (Alaska to Oregon), half that is the exp

THE PLANT CATALOGS look delicious, but what plans have you made for where those wishlist items might go, and how many of each do you need to make them really say something in the garden? I love creating mixed plantings of shade treasures–bulbs and perennials, and especially extra-early bloomers–under deciduous trees and shrubs. I call the process “Making Mosaics,” and it’s one of the how-to sidebars in my 2013 book, “The Backyard Parables.” It’s also a video, with photos I’ve taken here at my place.

Start with a cold-hardy cultivar if you plant to try to overwinter rosemary in the ground in other than a truly frost-free hardiness zone. ‘Arp’ is the best known, along with ‘Hill Hardy’ (also known as ‘Madalene Hill’ after the late herb gardener from Texas; ‘Arp’ was her discovery, by the way, the result of her search for plants that could take not extremes of cold but the Texas heat). Oregon-based Nichols Garden Nursery’s owner touts ‘Nichols Select’ as being a toughie, too.It’s “as hardy as any I’ve grown, probably Zone 6B, and the flavor is terrific,” Rose Marie Nichols McGee in an interview one spring. “It was planted 25 years ago at our home and survived minus-7 degrees F once. I think this is your best for a long-lived rosemary.”The U.S. National Arboretum website trialed many cultivars, and how they fare on all scores. Even in USDA Zone 7A,

I love the look of giant leaves of aroids like Colocasia (shown) and Alocasia looming over the surface of my various water gardens, but always found the “planting” of them difficult: Everybody always wanted to set themselves free and float to the surface, even if I set rocks inside their rims. Naughty babies. So here’s what I do:First, I hold the plant, black plastic nursery pot and all, under water until it stops bubbling and is fully soaked. Then I simply stuff it, black nursery pot and all, into the heaviest terra cot

I came upon Kollibri (below, curing tobacco leaves), and his farming partner, Nikki, thanks to their listing in the online collective called Local Harvest [dot] org. Why, I wondered, was my endless Nicotiana search, already many pages deep into Google results, taking me there?I knew Local Harvest as a great place to find a nearby CSA farm to buy a share of, or to order farm-made cheeses or meats or even wildcrafted salves and soaps and such—but Nicotiana? Turns out that Kollibri and Nikki are former CSA farmers from the Portland, Oregon, area, and so the connection. And I couldn’t resist their online claim, under their internet store called Daggawalla Seeds and Herbs, founded in 2012 [UPDATE: Daggawalla is h

1. Don’t skip the part about digging the trench, which one Cornell University bulletin describes as a W-furrow (illustrated below). Some people simply dig an 18-inch-wide by 12-inch-deep trench and spread the roots out flat in the bottom. In a W-furrow, a ridge of soil hoed into place down the middle (in this case of a shallower trench, just 6-8 inches deep) supports the spider-like roots.2. Don’t bury the crowns all at once, but rather fill the trench in gradually as the topgrowth develops through the first season.3. Don’t forget to water as the crowns make their way to establishing a deep root system. Details on planting and careare here.Picking4. Don’t pick too soon from a new planting. Some sources say you can pick a little starting one

The Deer’s Delicate Palate: We all wonder (often in loud expletives when something has been chewed) what it is that deer won’t eat. I loved this online tool created at Rutgers University Extension (based on observations in northern New Jersey) that rates things from “Rarely Damaged” to “Frequently Severely Damaged” (above) in a five-point scale that seems more sensible to me that saying anything’s “deerproof.” We could all benefit from this kind of thinking, a sort of risk-assessment philosophy of planting in the presence of these beasts. (You know me; I don’t. I gave up and got a deer fence.)Compost-Bin Envy: I have never met Ryan Boren, one of the lead developers (read: software engineer) for WordPress, the platform I so love and that this site is built on. Who knew that Boren is also adept with wood-working tools and built himself a composter-to-covet at the Texas home he shares with his growing family and some mighty cute goats. The “after” shot of his three-stage compost bin is here; the detail shots here.An Old Friend, Overplanted:

I don’t even know if this lone pear, with its handsome lichen-covered trunk (background, below), is “wild,” or was planted by a previous owner, as were the remaining half-dozen or so big old apples that have already seen most of a century on this land, a remnant of a long-ago fruit orchard.Each year I’ve just enjoyed the pear for the character-filled tree that it is, and written off the fruit as useless, and a nuisance at that, since much of it drops to the ground and creates an experience not unlike mowing over golfballs (if you don’t slip and fall first after stepping on one).  Birds and other wil

YES, YES, I KNOW: I have already told you I love hellebores. While waiting for mine to reach full bloom, I took an online tour this very cold morning of other hellebore plantings that are enviably farther along.

From the first time I landed on her popular blog Posie Gets Cozy, I knew there would be a connection—again, though I was the hopeless (and embarrassed) girl who hemmed her junior high school dressmaking project right onto the lap of the skirt she was wearing, and when the bell rang for next period had to go there “wearing” both.Alicia (self-portrait, left) welcomed me into her sewing circle, anyhow, charming me in the funniest Alicia-style ways. I mean, what’s not to like about a woman you don’t even know who says, “I want to be a gardener. Like Margaret.”A woman who emails you—though you are still total strangers, really—and asks you about the potato she has planted in a smallish flower pot, and how to care for it? (Answer: Get it out of the confines of that pot, a.k.a., my curriculum of How Not to Grow a Potato 101.)A woman who sends you link

IT’S EITHER TIME TO HIT THE SLOPES, or hit the bar, Andre Jordan–or at least that’s how it looks from conditions as depicted in your latest doodle.

The pre-Columbian Indians of the Andes domesticated more starchy root crops than any other culture, but only the potato caught on as a staple worldwide.“The others have seldom been tried outside South America, yet they are still found in the Andes and represent some of the most interesting of all root crops.…” said a 1989 report called “Lost Crops of the Incas: Little-Known Plants of the Andes with Promise for Worldwide Cultivation” from the National Research Council.“They come in myriad colors, shapes, and sizes,” the report added. “T

I’ve never grown multiplier onions before, an oldtime favorite I pre-ordered in March from Southern Exposure Seed Exchange, which offers them for fall arrival. I haven’t found much consistent information about growing the so-called potato onions, particularly in the North, except for Southern Exposure’s fact sheet, which says to save half the bulbs for springtime planting in case the winter’s too hard for them. Sounds a little ominous, but here I go.In my cold area, I’m meant to give them up to 5 inches of soil on top of their pointed ends (only 1 inch or 2 in warmer zones), then scrape some of it away come spring, as they prefer to be closer to the surface in the growing season. As with garlic, shallots and other alliums, the bulbs want fertile, well-drained soil and a sunny location to be happiest.I’d welcome any insights or war stories if you’ve grown multiplier onions, which are also sol

IN SOME THINGS lonerism backfires, like when the ladder needs steadying to get at the top of an errantly sprouting espalier, or a truckload of eight cubic yards of mulch is dumped by the far gate. Though ordering seeds is not heavy work, it is best not done alone, either; I have always had a companion for the task. My latest one, of considerable years’ duration, got it in his head to move to Oregon recently, for greener garden pastures, taking with him not just the in-person dimension of our friendship, but also access to the nearby greenhouse that was, of course, a perfect complement to the shopping we did together all that time.“I’ll buy the tomato seeds if you’ll grow them,” the conversation with Andrew would always begin, as if he needed my ten- or fifteen-dollar annual enticement, when of course we never really paid careful mind to who bought what or really kept a running tab of our years-long botanical barter. It hardly mattered; what counted was the chance to look together, to compare notes, to react collaboratively to the possibilities—ooh! aah! ugh!—and eventually to relish the harvest (or to commiserate when something was a flop and there was no harvest, or

WHEN I CALLED Rose Marie Nichols McGee after much more than a decade, it was like we’d just hung up moments before. “Do you still grow Phlomis?” she asked without missing a beat, referring to a mint relative I’d loved early on in my garden’s life, a former Nichols Garden Nursery purchase I’d almost forgotten (since I’d eventually killed it, oops). That’s OK, she said; it got tricky here, too. The nursery, with more than 60 years selling herbs and much more—one of the first places I ever shopped as a gardener—is Rose Marie and her husband, Keane’s, family business (that’s them above), and they’ve seen lots of plants come, and go, and come around again. With a gift-certificate giveaway and an herb-growing Q&A, meet an old friend and some great new and old plants as well–and learn tricks for growing them.

Out of the leaf litter they ascend.When I purchased this native of woodsy streambanks in northwestern California and southwestern Oregon for my New York garden, it was still called Peltiphyllum peltatum. I have a thing for big-leaved plants (likeAstilboides, its cousinRodgersia, and even thuggishPetasites). I had to tryDarmera, whose leaves can reach 18 in

If I count my blessings from 2009, I’d count Andre right up there, along with starting A Way to Garden (and now The Sister Project), getting a book contract of my own (more on that someday) and letting Jack the Demon Cat in the house to sit at my feet while I work each day.Andre’s memoir is brutal and charming and uproarious all at once, sharing as he does in his words (sometimes starting with “F”) and pictures (sometimes involving turgid body parts) the journey through life’s inconvenient truths and low tides, as the book depicts:A line drawing of a bucket labeled “Happy Pills” and beside it the caption “Hard to Swallow.”

Recent InterviewsRural Intelligence, the indispensable year-old blog that’s a guide to the tri-state area I live in, helped me celebrate my first blog-a-versary this week with a 20-questions meme-type interview. If you live nearby, or you’re planning a visit to this area (maybe to see my garden, details below), be sure to check in with RI first, and make a real day or weekend of it.A crafty tripleheader: I keep saying I’m not crafty, but throughout my career I’m always surrounded by crafters. Hmmm….Lately, I am grateful to a few new ones I think you’ll want to meet, including:Diane Gilleland, aka S

She is someone I have often heard called a mentor and inspiration by some of my most respected garden friends, especially in the Pacific Northwest. No wonder, because Corvallis, Oregon-based Carol Deppe–also the author of the popular book “The Resilient Gardener”–is pragmatic, but also scientific in her approach, armed not only with precisely the right hoe for the job but also with a PhD in biology from Harvard and a long background in plant breeding.Read along as you listen to the March 30, 2015 edition of my public-radio show and podcast using the player below. You can subscribe to all future editions on iTunes or Stitcher (and browse my archive of podcasts here). We talked about choosing vegetables to grow in combination (and when some crops are most productive and easiest grown alone); about strategic steps to avoid late blight

These non-native “ladybugs,” introduced by the Department of Agriculture to help combat certain agricultural pests, have made themselves right at home in America—and in my house, too. In fall, the south-facing side of the exterior can be teeming with patches of them, as they look for places to tuck into and overwinter. The USDA imported lady beetles from Japan as early as 1916 as a beneficial insect, to gobble up unwanted pests on forest and orchard trees, but it was probably later releases, in the late 1970s and early 80s in the Southeast, that took hold. Today, multicolored Asian lady beetles have made themselves completely at home around the United States, easily adapting to regions as diverse as Louisiana, Oregon, and mine in New York State.

In the Q&A that follows, Ellen’s answers contain green links to audio files from BirdNote’s archive that you won’t want to miss. A recap of earlier stories in our ongoing series is at the bottom of the page, along with information on how to hear BirdNote daily. Easiest of all: browse all the BirdNote series stories at this link.winter bird q&a with ellen blackstoneQ. How far south do migratory birds go for the winter? A. They cover a very wide range of distances, but here’s a hint at some of the impressive extremes:Our humble barn swallow is a true long-distance migrant, and may winter as far south as southern South America, often returning to the same area year after year. Imagine: the sprightly bird that nested in the eav

COARSE AND SLIGHTLY UNKEMPT AS IT MAY BE, Viburnum sieboldii was one of my first viburnums and is still beloved here.  And as if it knows it has some rough edges to make up for, it gives me little extras, in addition to being easy to grow. There is fruit the birds enjoy that evolves through several colors as it ripens over a long period, and foliage that smells like a somewhat funky pineapple to me whenrubbed or crushed (one not-quite-aroma-therapeutic way to tell if V.

I don’t grow C. florida in my current garden, but looking around here now since the snow receded and making my pruning list for the weeks ahead, I realize how many other dogwood species I do grow, and enjoy. The dogwood bloom season begins even before Forsythia, with Cornus mas (above), in April. A slideshow of it and some other reliable favorites.Use the thumbnails to toggle between slides, or hover your cursor on the middle of the right edge of the big photo to display navigational arrows. A list of dogwood profiles and other links is below the gallery. Enjoy

The evolving rainbow of peas at Peace Seedlings—with more colors to come—got its start with decades of breeding by Alan Kapuler, Dylana’s father, a longtime public-domain plant breeder and the founder of Peace Seeds.(More on him, and on some of the other combined Kapuler treasures, from marigolds and zinnias to edible Andean tubers like oca and yacon, to a rainbow of beautiful beets, is at the end of this story.)“We’re doing a lot of crosses and selecting ourselves now, too,” says Dylana of the work she and partner Mario DiBenedetto continue in collaboration with Alan and his wife, Linda, in Corvallis, Orego

I HAVE NEVER had a pair of boots that wasn’t hunter green or just plain black, but the madcap, cotton-lined, waterproof boots from Oregon-based Jessica Swift (top left of top photo) made me smile—and $5 from each pair sold will go to helping Charity: Water, a non-profit bringing clean drinking water to developing nations. The boots’ creator runs a new one-woman, crowd-funded business, and inside each boot is as brightly patterned as outside—plus Jessica has added a positive message like “this is the moment—your moment” to the lining, too.  Not sure what my dairy-farming neighbors will think if I show up in these babies at the Post Office or General Store, but maybe I’ll take a walk on the wild side and find out. Happy feet, anyone?gold standard: hose of my dreamsEVERYONE WHO VISITS the garden on Open Days wants one: a super-lightweight, drinking-water-safe, beautifully colored hose (many hues to choose from, including olive and cranberry, shown above, and purple and more). No more dragging around heavy, kinked-up traditional hoses for me the last few years, since I found the made-in-America ones from Water Right Inc., an Oregon-based family business.stocking-

THE BANG-BANG SOUND FROM THE WOODS this time of year—it’s hunting season!—always reminds me of who isn’t welcome in my garden, thanks to a tall fence.  Keeping deer out, or choosing plants that are somewhat less palatable for the areas where you cannot bar them, was the topic of this week’s podcast.

While browsing the seed catalogs, I fell into a motherlode at Adaptive Seeds out in Sweet Home, Oregon, plus a comprehensive how-to article on the topic, by Adaptive’s co-founder Sarah Kleeger, all the way down to an analysis on a farm scale of how much it cost in manpower hours and supplies to grow them.Last year I intentionally grew dry beans for the first time in any semi-serious way, and it was so rewarding that this year the garden plan calls for more, more, more. Maybe you’ve been an accidental dry-bean grower like I had till then, leaving a tower of ‘Scarlet Runner’ standing until the big fat seeds spill

IT’S ALMOST TIME—for seeds, that is; to delve into catalogs, order, and then try to be patient till it’s time to sow. To that end—the timing part—I’m suddenly taken in bya $4 companion from the all-organic Seattle Seed Company (above) whose job it is to keep me on schedule, and not jumping the gun (or forgetting something till it’s too late). With a low-tech pullout format, you “set” your first and last frost dates and then the “when to sow what” falls into place. At this price, how can I resist the promise of feeling like I finally have it all together?smart birds: recycling butts into nestsYES, BIRDS USE the usual twigs, grasses, and feathers. But apparently they use cigarette butts, too—or so scientists at Scotland’s St. Andrews University have reported after studying house finch and house sparrow nests in Mexico