I've always loved leeks, those tall, graceful, green relatives of the onion with a sometimes outrageously thick stem. These days, I've bought them frequently at our local Farmers' Market. But today I just purchased a pot of leek starts, and so hope to grow my own crop of the svelte, white-footed alliums.
Mind, until recently I'd only known leeks in their truncated form, lying butchered for purchase on market shelves. It wasn't until I started gardening that I knew what a leek in full flower looked like. And they're gorgeous!
These leeks in the backyard garden I share with a friend show the round flower heads of a delicate purple color, resembling oversized garlic or onion blooms.
Besides a giant pretty stem, why grow leeks? Or for that matter, eat them? Like all alliums, they're good for boosting immunity to nasty things like cold and 'flu. Leeks are wonderful in soups and stews, but can also be added raw to salads so as to get their full health benefits (i.e. vitamin C is destroyed by heat), yet without quite the raging kick of raw onion or garlic. A cup of raw leeks (although this is more than most people may wish to eat at once!) supply half the RDA of vitamin K, and are also rich in vitamins A and C, plus 10 percent each of your daily vitamin B6 and iron. Then there's that cute way a leek parses itself out into handy little bite-sized rings when you slice it.... if you like a bit of fresh green spice and are all right with alliums, what's not to like?
I'm already wondering how big my leeks will get; I'd better give them lots of room.
Thursday, July 14, 2016
Tough guys: Urban Weedz
My route today had one primary goal in mind: Picking up some tasty herbs and vegetable starts for my garden (although I didn't say no to a couple of fruit and a Virgil's black cherry cream soda for lunch).
Somewhere between our local co-op and the large natural grocer on 33rd Street, I spotted a rugged gang of plants clinging to a hard-scrabble life in a dry alley. I realized I knew them all: Bravely vanguarding the end of the group in this photo --- and getting stepped on meanwhile --- is Burdock, while just behind, Lemon Balm, Wild Mallow and Plantain crouch for shelter under the graffitied meter box. Just across the alley from them I found Yellow Dock, plus a few grasses.
Plants, I've discovered, are like people in that you get to know them after you've hung out with them long enough. From the moment I clapped eyes on them, the hood-tough plants in this alley weren't just weeds to me --- not any more.
Burdock, a powerhouse of a plant that can reach ten feet high and led to the invention of Velcro with its clever burr-hook technology, is one of our best cleansing herbs for liver, blood, lymph glands, skin, poisoning cases, and even cancer, as is Yellow Dock, which is also great for stimulating bile to detoxify the internal organs. Plaintain is soothing and healing for the skin and mucus membranes, giving relief for bites, stings and wounds. Wild Mallow or Cheeseweed, like its cultivated cousins, is also good for soothing throats and all sensitive bodily membranes. And Lemon Balm is a champ at both calming and uplifing you, improving the digestion while taking care of nervous issues like stress, anxiety and depression.
With all of these plants already in my garden, I left these particular specimens alone. Not just because they had been exposed to high traffic exhaust from busy Alberta Street, either. I figured these tough urban weedz, after rooting out a place for themselves in the concrete jungle, deserved to make a proud statement of their survival abilities and not suffer the added stress of relocation (which must make human moving seem fluffy in comparison). They're not the only ones of their kind; I've spotted each of these plants all over our city. Like our own species, they're adaptors and survivors.
Burdock, Lemon Balm, Yellow Dock, Mallow, Plaintain: Not just weeds! Get to know these plants and what they can do for you. Give the first a week to clear up those zits on your chin, while a single cup of the second just might make your day brighter, or that exam go just a bit easier. Coming to a 'hood near you.... if they aren't already there.
Somewhere between our local co-op and the large natural grocer on 33rd Street, I spotted a rugged gang of plants clinging to a hard-scrabble life in a dry alley. I realized I knew them all: Bravely vanguarding the end of the group in this photo --- and getting stepped on meanwhile --- is Burdock, while just behind, Lemon Balm, Wild Mallow and Plantain crouch for shelter under the graffitied meter box. Just across the alley from them I found Yellow Dock, plus a few grasses.
Burdock, a powerhouse of a plant that can reach ten feet high and led to the invention of Velcro with its clever burr-hook technology, is one of our best cleansing herbs for liver, blood, lymph glands, skin, poisoning cases, and even cancer, as is Yellow Dock, which is also great for stimulating bile to detoxify the internal organs. Plaintain is soothing and healing for the skin and mucus membranes, giving relief for bites, stings and wounds. Wild Mallow or Cheeseweed, like its cultivated cousins, is also good for soothing throats and all sensitive bodily membranes. And Lemon Balm is a champ at both calming and uplifing you, improving the digestion while taking care of nervous issues like stress, anxiety and depression.
With all of these plants already in my garden, I left these particular specimens alone. Not just because they had been exposed to high traffic exhaust from busy Alberta Street, either. I figured these tough urban weedz, after rooting out a place for themselves in the concrete jungle, deserved to make a proud statement of their survival abilities and not suffer the added stress of relocation (which must make human moving seem fluffy in comparison). They're not the only ones of their kind; I've spotted each of these plants all over our city. Like our own species, they're adaptors and survivors.
Burdock, Lemon Balm, Yellow Dock, Mallow, Plaintain: Not just weeds! Get to know these plants and what they can do for you. Give the first a week to clear up those zits on your chin, while a single cup of the second just might make your day brighter, or that exam go just a bit easier. Coming to a 'hood near you.... if they aren't already there.
Tuesday, July 12, 2016
A Summer Garden
Today was a gorgeous day in my opinion. Skies of a bright gray, somewhere between sunshine and rain; a moderate temperature and light breeze; and an early start out of the house and into the world. Why should a day without direct sun be so grand and appreciated? In my case, it's a great day for doing vigorous work outside.
Because I've no yard of my own, a friend kindly lets me plant various green growing things in a part of her backyard. But with over a month dedicated to serious improvement on a snowboard, followed by a couple of trips, my spring garden didn't amount to much! My garden's overgrown, super-weedy status changed over the past two days, which saw the full ploughing and turning of the entire patch, save for a few gangly stems of St. John's Wort and floppy-leafed Yellow Dock plants. After a few intense hours with a spade fork (a wonderful tool for breaking up earth), in which I extracted multiple taproots of lengths over a foot, my backyard garden is a beautiful sight: A big expanse of rich brown earth, eagerly awaiting new tenants.
So who will I find to dwell in my new Summer and Autumn Garden? I'm big on healthy organic food and herbs, both of which I promote in my Wild Brews book series. If I'm not growing them, I try to purchase them at our local Farmers' Markets. But now, with a garden ready, why not? So vegetables like beets, onions, and carrots are definitely on the list.
Heading home, I ducked into all the nurseries and herbariums on the way to get ideas. In doing so, I added the herbs Lady's Mantle, Pineapple Sage and Horehound to my tenant list; I already have seeds for Anise Hyssop, a favorite of bees. I also found some lovely young broccoli starts, plus vines of lemon-cucumber and yellow crookneck squash.
Simply put, I'm incredibly excited and can't wait to start planting... then to watch the magic of Earth, Sun and Water unfold all over again.
Because I've no yard of my own, a friend kindly lets me plant various green growing things in a part of her backyard. But with over a month dedicated to serious improvement on a snowboard, followed by a couple of trips, my spring garden didn't amount to much! My garden's overgrown, super-weedy status changed over the past two days, which saw the full ploughing and turning of the entire patch, save for a few gangly stems of St. John's Wort and floppy-leafed Yellow Dock plants. After a few intense hours with a spade fork (a wonderful tool for breaking up earth), in which I extracted multiple taproots of lengths over a foot, my backyard garden is a beautiful sight: A big expanse of rich brown earth, eagerly awaiting new tenants.
So who will I find to dwell in my new Summer and Autumn Garden? I'm big on healthy organic food and herbs, both of which I promote in my Wild Brews book series. If I'm not growing them, I try to purchase them at our local Farmers' Markets. But now, with a garden ready, why not? So vegetables like beets, onions, and carrots are definitely on the list.
Heading home, I ducked into all the nurseries and herbariums on the way to get ideas. In doing so, I added the herbs Lady's Mantle, Pineapple Sage and Horehound to my tenant list; I already have seeds for Anise Hyssop, a favorite of bees. I also found some lovely young broccoli starts, plus vines of lemon-cucumber and yellow crookneck squash.
Simply put, I'm incredibly excited and can't wait to start planting... then to watch the magic of Earth, Sun and Water unfold all over again.
Plant love! Stalking the healthful herbs.
A whole lotta tillin' going on... It's weedageddon out here today, but helpful weed-herbs like blooming St. John's Wort and (background) Yellow Dock are allowed to stay. Some weed-herbs, such as Burdock and Fennel, I actually brought into the garden earlier this spring.
Yikes! So what is with these gigantic taproots? Besides a successful method of plant entrepreneurship, the stout, deeply-reaching roots of Viper's Bugloss (which also put out thick lateral runners to propagate more plants) are a result of my allowances earlier this year. When I began my planting, the Bugloss was in full bloom... and covered with bees. Obviously, Bugloss, with its bright blue, star-shaped flowers, is an important nectar source for honey and bumble bees. Rather than whack it all up, I let the Bugloss bloom, so those roots just kept getting bigger and thicker.
Now, with the blooming over, and the bees partaking of my St. John's Wort, Catmint and Perovskia, I didn't feel as badly about uprooting the pretty but pernicious Bugloss --- easier said than done, as Bugloss taproots also have an outer sheath that sometimes slips right out, leaving most of the root in the ground. In any case, you'll be hard-put to root out every piece if you've got Bugloss in your garden. The Bugloss family, incidentally, are all cousins of Borage, and share many of the same benefits and properties. I can't blame Bugloss just because it's good at doing a brisk business! Not when that business benefits bees and other wildlife. As an author of a book about bees, I prefer to walk my talk ...and dig my dirt.
Last but not least, a surprise that reveals a happy and thriving ecosystem: A bird's nest built in a mingled clump of Viper's Bugloss and Lemon Balm. Empty when I found it, the nest received careful weeding around its supports as I prepped the patch, and hasn't been subjected to the demo crew yet. Maybe I'll leave it up as a blessing.
A Work in Progress
A book, a business, a person: Each of these things is a work in progress, and sometimes, that progress cannot be rushed no matter how we wish it could be. My greatest barriers to rapid progress are all rooted in what I call the Great Enemy, Fear ...yet fear can be an excellent indicator of where we need to do our greatest work, as well as a fuel for action.
Currently working on at least three books, my most important lesson lately has been: Pick a project, regardless of which one it is, and do some work, ANY work, on it. You may be afraid, but trust the process. With one foot continuously placed in front of the other, all the lumps in your path will work out, eventually producing a bold new crop. Keep going, and keep growing!
Currently working on at least three books, my most important lesson lately has been: Pick a project, regardless of which one it is, and do some work, ANY work, on it. You may be afraid, but trust the process. With one foot continuously placed in front of the other, all the lumps in your path will work out, eventually producing a bold new crop. Keep going, and keep growing!
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