Differences in Dried Amaranth

In a recent comment, Judith asked me how my amaranth had dried--I posted about tying some broken stalks to a wire trellis behind my Japanese lantern a few weeks back to see what would happen. Well, that amaranth is definitely dry! It turned a lovely golden wheat color, which is not quite what I was expecting but beautiful nonetheless.

It really surprises me that the sun bleached it out so much because I had taken a few of the broken branches indoors to dry on coat hooks in my entryway at the same time. The flowers on those stalks, from the same 'Hopi Red Dye' plants and already bone-dry, stayed approximately the same shade of red they sported when I hung them up.

In the picture above, you can contrast the color of the sun-dried amaranth with the shade-dried amaranth. (I temporarily hung one shade-dried stalk on top of the sun-dried to show the difference.)

I will definitely shade-dry a few more branches for autumn arrangements, but I'll also leave the sun-dried ones up on the trellis. They add a bit of the natural and organic to the cement-and-siding area over there, and fall is in the air so they're showing appropriate color for the season. I might tie up some spent sunflowers, too, to complete the look.

Has anybody ever left the flower stalks to dry outside, or not pulled the plants out until the following spring? I'm curious whether the birds will eventually find and eat the amaranth grains. I would love to hear from someone like Sigrun, Harvest or anyone else who can let me know whether to expect a few new bird visitors... or not!

Obviously I didn't learn my lesson about moving plants in August, because I was at it again tonight. I'm trading two of my extra hosta for starts of two (or maybe three) from the large plant bed at work. I'm excited, because I am getting a chunk from the huge 'Sum and Substance,' the shapely and upright 'Krossa Regal,' and maybe even the small, rounded, satisfyingly dark green hosta that I have yet to identify.

I was digging up one of my trades when the cuff of my jeans snagged an anchor of a very large spider web. This poor girl got taken for a ride as my careless step caused her to swing back and forth... I marveled at how strong and elastic her web proved to be. It even stood up to my clumsiness a few more times when I brought the camera back and began to circle her, looking for a good shot.

She's a common garden spider, and I remember reading in a recent blog posting that she's a black-and-yellow orb weaver, argiope aurantia. (I wish I remembered who blogged about her, so I could provide a link as well as go back and read it myself, but I'm just not that sharp tonight.)

I say "she" when referring to this spider because the females grow quite a bit larger than the males, who top out around 3/8 of an inch, and this spider's body was almost 3/4 of an inch. With her legs included, she easily measured 1-1/2 inches or more.

I never did get a great shot of her from the front, but if you want to see a really wonderful close-up view, check out this one that Yvonne posted last week. The pic of her underside is neat, though... her markings are even more intricate there.

What I found fascinating in researching them online was that they have 3 claws on each foot to help them handle the silk while weaving--I never really thought about spiders having claws before.

She's not as threatening as that sounds, or as she looks, though. Their venom does not really affect humans and they will only bite people if they're being harassed. They catch everything from aphids on up in their webs, and have even been known to take out a grasshopper or two. Spiders generally make good garden allies, so I'll be leaving her anchors--er, the dead sunflower stalks--standing until she leaves or is eaten by the birds!

Happy Kitchen Garden Day!

Celebrate Kitchen Garden Day today! Take a garden tour, eat at a restaurant that utilizes local produce, or simply enjoy the bounty of your own kitchen garden.

I have already enjoyed ripe volunteer cherry tomatoes as part of my lunch. Tonight for dinner I will saute some of the lovely 'Rhubarb' chard you see here in olive oil and chopped garlic, and serve it over whole wheat pasta along with grated asiago cheese.

I have begun enjoying a cup of herbal tea before bedtime each night, and will either be making a mug of black peppermint, mixed sage, or sage and lemon thyme tea later as well. Tea from your own garden is such a simple pleasure, but immensely satisfying. I have a mental note to add more teaworthy herbs to my garden next year.

The Surprising Results of Moving Plants in August

Let me preface this post by saying that yes, I KNOW you're not supposed to move plants in August. I know that moving them in late summer adds insult to injury because of the usual summer drought/heat combo.

I know all that, but it was nice and rainy--the unending, misty drizzle that plants seem to especially love--and around 70 degrees last Saturday. I'd been bitten by the fall cleanup bug, the weekly forecast showed daily rain, and I had some ideas on new locations for several plants so I decided to go for it anyway.

I dug with abandon, removing the centaurea dealbata that has been a marked plant for the past year. I transplanted 3 pennisetum 'Hameln' that were Bluestone Perennials purchases last fall, many clumps of chives, a couple of golden sages, an unnamed hosta, 'Crow Feather' tiarella, European ginger, and *gulp* 3 'Hillside Black Beauty' actaea--formerly known as cimicifuga.

I really expected that if anything sulked or gave me trouble, it would be the HBB's... just go to any gardening board and ask about moving the actaea/cimicifuga clan and you'll get replies from a bunch of Chicken Littles about how the sky will definitely fall if you try to move these plants at all, ever. If I sound less than threatened by these prophecies, it's because I've moved all of mine several times in the past few years with absolutely no consequences.

I have had no problems so far this time, either, as you can see from the first picture. The promised rainfall never materialized this week, so I did water them twice when the flower stalks started to droop a bit.

What really surprised me was the reaction of 'Icterina,' the golden culinary sage. I checked it out Sunday and found the leaves all hanging straight down! You can see in the second picture that the leaves are still droopy--and this is after watering 2x daily for a whole week!

I know that I got a huge chunk of the rootball, and I actually moved it into slightly less sun than it had previously enjoyed... so I'm really not sure to what factor I should attribute its sulkiness. I'm just surprised to find that behavior in an otherwise tough sage. After all, I hadn't been worried about moving this one at all!

Is some sort of Murphy's Law of Moving Garden Plants in effect here? "Murphy's Law of the Garden #113: "The plants you are hesitant to move will bounce back just fine, but the ones that you assume will easily survive transplanting will try to die on you."

There's probably another corollary to that law, now that I think about it. One that says something about how if all other things are equal, the plant that cost the most will be the one that dies. I think that's happened to me a few times in my old garden. Good thing I got my HBB's for cheap during a Wayside Gardens sale, or they might have been goners, too!

A Garden Bouquet...

... for you, Mom. Why? Because your son is flying to Japan tomorrow, and if I know you at all you're probably needlessly worrying already. Because you definitely seemed to want to see something "prettier" than my slug post. Because I love you.

The red amaranth and the hosta leaves are scentless, but the bronze fennel, culinary sage, and golden sage are all quite fragrant.

It's not as top-heavy as it appears in this picture, either. I couldn't get a good picture of it in the dining room so I set it on the driveway in the fading rays of the sunset, in front of the silver artemisia. Not the best background to set off the arrangement, but I was more worried about the light.

I hope you can enjoy it even though you're 180 miles away! Maybe next summer you can make it up here to gather your own bouquet... :)