🌿 GARDENING IN THE DIRT for MARCH ONE🌿

Gwendolyn Yansen (1915-2012)
Shaw Island gardener
enjoying the annual spring rite releasing her
 pots of cherished Begonias from winter storage,
under the house, as she did for c. fifty island years.
She wouldn't mind if Rosemary Verey called
her a dirt gardener, but Gwen always changed into
clean clothes to go to the landing for mail.
A hard act to follow.
Photo 2000.

"Americans speak English but often their expressions are far removed from ours. On one occasion I was introduced as a 'dirt gardener'. I felt mildly surprised and even embarrassed––did my fingernails so easily betray my daily occupation? Later I learnt it was intended as a compliment, to convey that I actually dig in the garden myself. A shared appreciation of a subject or a mutual way of life is the best way to seal a friendship."
A Countrywoman's Year. Verey, Rosemary, OBE; Victoria Medal of Honour, from the Royal Horticulture Society, the highest accolade the Society can award.

Shaw Island Hamamelis flowers in February and
stretching to Gwen's birthday on March 4
Shaw Island March 2017.

🌿 IRIS RETICULATA🌿

Iris reticulata and friends.
Anno twenty-three February
two thousand and seventeen
Shaw Island

"This little bulb (named after the net-like coat of fibers that protects the bulb itself) is one of the best-loved of all irises, giving pleasure out of all proportion to its size––it is only a few inches tall. Its velvety blue flowers flecked with gold arrive in very early spring, and are heavily scented. It is quite hardy and increases fast in well-drained preferably alkaline soil––a few bulbs planted 3 inches deep and 4 inches apart in autumn will form an established colony in a year of two.
      Being so small, do not let the irises get swamped in a large border. They are ideal for the rock garden, or for raised troughs, where they can be seen and sniffed near eye-level. 
      After flowering the leaves present a problem, for they grow very tall and grassy and are something of an eyesore, and must not, of course, be cut down. A light, non-strangulating ground-cover might be planted nearby.*
      In her epic poem The Land, Via Sackville-West honored Iris reticulata as one of the earliest flowers of the year."

 For no new flowers shall be born

Save hellebore on Christmas morn,

And bare gold jasmine on the wall,

And violets, and soon the small 

Blue netted iris, like a cry

Startling the sloth of February.

      
Quote from: Perfect Plant, Perfect Garden by Ann Scott-James (1913-2009.) Journalist, author of several classic gardening titles.
Published by Summit Books. N.Y. 1988.
* A suggestion for a colorful plant to hide some of those late-stage iris leaves is this spot of summer color, Golden Feverfew, an herb easy to start from broadcasted seeds available at Gatehouse Seeds this spring and summer.

Golden Feverfew
Tanacetum parthenium "aurea"
Shaw Island, WA.

Golden Feverfew 
(Tanacetum parthenium "Aurea")
Handpacked, island-grown seeds
are available at Gatehouse Seeds
Reefnet Bay Road, 
Shaw Island, WA.

🌿 SHAW ISLAND HELLEBORES for VALENTINE'S DAY 🌿

HELLEBORES AND HEARTS
Hand-hooked wool on linen table mat with hearts by Marlyn
Happy Valentine's Day from Shaw Island.

🌿 FEBRUARY ON SHAW ISLAND 🌿

"NO WINTER LASTS FOREVER;
NO SPRING SKIPS ITS TURN."
Hal Borlan (1900-1978)
For birthday girl A.B.
Anno three February two thousand and seventeen.
Carved Viking Dragon by Nicklas Nielsen, 2014.

🌿 WINTER FUEL 🌿

One full woodshed,
wrapped with overflow under her ample eaves.
Builders, Ed Hopkins and Buzz Melville.
Shaw Island, ca. 1980

"The world is much the poorer for the lost technologies of earlier times, where it was common knowledge, for example, exactly which wood was good for what.
      I came across this translation of a Latin poem on the properties of firewood. It appeared as a letter to The Times on 1 March, 1929."
   

"Beechwood fires are bright and clear, if the logs are kept a year.

Chestnut's only good, they say, if for long its laid away.

Make a fire of Elder tree, death within your house shall be.

But Ash new or Ash old is fit for a queen with a crown of gold.

Birch and Fir logs burn too fast; blaze up bright and do not last.

It is by the Irish said, Hawthorn bakes the sweetest bread.

Elm wood burns like churchyard mould; e'en the very flames are cold.

But Ash green or Ash brown is fit for a queen with a golden crown.

Poplar gives a bitter smoke, fills your eyes and makes you choke.

Apple wood will scent your room with an incense-like perfume,

Oaken logs, if dry and old, keep away the winter's cold.

But Ash wet or Ash dry a king shall warm his slippers by."

Hugh Johnson on Gardening; The Best of Tradescant's Diary. Johnson, Hugh.
The Royal Horticulture Society. London. 1993.

🌿 NEW GARDENING CLOGS FOR CHRISTMAS ? 🌿

Danish wooden clog sole,
with Merry Christmas greens from Shaw Island
Anno seventeen December 2016.

Clipping from unknown publication.
Click image to enlarge. 

🌿 DECEMBER FLOWERS 🌿

Angel's Violas
cosy beneath low hanging branches
of Western Red Cedar
Shaw Island, WA. 
December 2016.

"I love to receive a bunch of flowers. Who does not? And when the bunch is small enough to sit on my dressing table so that I wake in the morning with its clear scent in my room, it is a double bonus. We were puzzled by this bunch, though [a bunch in an English garden.] Were they wild violets or cultivated Parma violets? They seemed to be a cross between the two, but in any case, why were they in full flower now, in early December, when they should be quiescent, waiting in the woods for springtime? I have them before me with their deep purple flowers drooping over the rim of their small container. They are not as large as the Parma violets I once grew in a frame but they are in every way as sweetly scented and the question is, how had they arrived in the wood beside my friends' house? Several years ago my friends had transplanted patches of wild violets to grow under their beech trees and had watched the patches grow wider and wider, making drifts of purple. Could they possibly be a cross between the wildlings and their superior Parma relations? We remembered how Parma violets had once been grown in frames in the walled garden of the neighbouring park. The garden boy picked and bunched buttonholes for the ladies to wear in the lapels of their elegant side-saddle coats on hunting days. All through history violets have held a special place for their scent, their use and romance. The Greeks picked them for garlands and chaplets; the Romans made violet wine and fried them with slices of orange and lemon; the romantic poet Fortunas, Bishop of Poitiers, sent gifts of violets to St. Radegunde as decoration for her church. Perhaps best of all, the beautiful Empress Josephine embroidered her wedding dress with violets, after which they were a signature of love between her and Napoleon. No other flower so small has been held in such high esteem as Viola odorata." Words from A Countrywomans's Year, Rosemary Verey. Little Brown and Co. 1989.

🌿 ROSEMARY VEREY ON STORING APPLES 🌿

November

Early Root House,
empty shelves, empty root-crop-bins,
former Glossop orchard,
Shaw Island, San Juan Archipelago, WA.

"The problem of where to store our apples is now a perennial one, for the stables and hay and apple lofts were converted 35 years ago into retirement house for my father and mother-in-law; now this same building is my own home. Time and generations move swiftly on. When we came to live at Barnsley House, there were three large and prolific cooking-apple trees in the garden, all of the different varieties and keeping qualities. They lasted the winter through. The ritual of picking and storing went on for days, supervised by my father-in-law using child labor-our sons. Everyone enjoyed it, with much friendly calling of instructions––'Can't you see that large red one by your right hand?'––and to-ing and froing of large log baskets filled to the brim and taken gently on wheelbarrows. Picking was always more exciting than storing, which after a while became tedious. One full apple tray was stacked upon another, leaving enough space between each fruit for air circulation around the ripening apples. With careful management, they lasted well into March, and throughout the winter stewed apples or huge baked ones were a regular part of our daily fare. On Sundays it would be something more exotic; Apple Betty, crumble, pie or dumplings. Then two of the old apple trees died, one from old age and the other from honey fungus. The third was hard pruned and in spite of its age still bears quantities of the pale yellow fruit of a quality hard to beat; when baked they become lighter and more feathery than any souffle. We planted new apple trees to replace the old, some as potential standards with spreading heads, others as neatly trained affairs growing on dwarf stock. There is a Bramley and a Charles Ross, two Cox's, three Sunsets and two Tydeman's Late Orange. Who, I wondered, as I laid them gently on a tray, was Tydeman or Charles Ross? As the trees grow so does the harvest and this year we have had a bumper crop which we have thoroughly enjoyed picking and storing. All the Laxton's Fortune were eaten in October and even earlier, their juiciness enjoyed by all. The Cox's are awaiting their ripening later. The huge Bramleys and Charles Ross will be eaten after Christmas. Each apple has been laid carefully on slatted trays in a spare bedroom, the floor surrounding them alive with mousetraps. A heavy pungent aroma hangs about the room while the apples are giving off their gases. In 1618 William Lawson's advice was as relevant as it is today. 'For keeping, lay them in a dry loft, on heaps, ten or fourteen days, that they may sweat. Then dry them with a soft and cleane cloath and lay them thin abroad. Long keeping fruit would be turned once a month softly."
From: A Countrywoman's Year by an internationally known author, gardener, lecturer, Rosemary Verey. Little, Brown and Company. 1989.