Horticultural housekeeping: when to deadhead flowering plants

Now may seem like a really strange time to talk about tidying up the garden.  Aren't all the flowers in full bloom? Yes, most of them are, but some have already finished their blossoming for the season.  The remnants of these plants must be addressed.

If you want show-stopping color next spring, now's the time to take the spent heads off lilac, Japanese Andromeda (Pieris japonica), and rhododendron.  If you don't, the plant will put most of it's energy into seed production rather than pushing out blooms for next season.

For rhododendron, it can be tricky.  It's far too easy to clip off not only the spent flowers, but next year's leaves.   Pictured below (focus on the section just below my thumbnail) is the nodule that attaches the bloom to the rest of the plant.  If you look closely, you will see new leaf growth at its base.  Being careful not to disturb the new growth, bend the spent section until it snaps off.  The spent blooms actually come off quite easily, but you must go slowly, or you will inadvertently pull new growth off as well.  As for the spent flowers that have dropped, don't allow them to litter the area around the rhododendron because the blossoms may precipitate fungal infections in the soil which can spread to the shrub.

Pieris japonica (AKA Japanese Andromeda or lily-of-the-valley bush, due to the similarity of the bell-like blooms) is a staple in northeast areas for early spring bloom, and to keep deer and other critters out of the garden.  The leaves of this plant are poisonous, so wildlife steers clear.  In fact, birds don't even nest in it!  In my yard, they prefer the rhododendron right next to it!

Like the rhodies, the pieris has plenty of new growth surrounding the spent flowers, so utmost care is vital to protect the plant and ensure plenty of budding next spring.  I never take pruning sheers to this plant.  I prefer to do as I do with the rhodie--pull off spent buds by hand.  Granted, it's tedious.  The buds are smaller and harder to isolate and yank off.  This is a time when I must remember every good gardener's mantra: patience is what makes a beautiful garden.  I don't try to take all the buds at once.  Every day for a few weeks I'll pluck a dozen or so dried-up flowers, as well as errant dead branches.

To the right is my very large pieris, with a bundle of dried flowers right in the center of the shot.  I'll  pull that section off right where it attaches to the branch.  It takes me about 10 minutes a day for a few weeks to tidy this plant (mine--which I inherited when I purchased my house--has been growing in that spot for more than 20 years, and it's quite large).  When your pieris is in full bloom next spring, you'll be happy that you took the time to ensure such beautiful bounty!

By now you should have deadheaded all spent lilac blooms (at least a month ago).  If not, leave them alone!  Lilacs, need to be removed immediately after blooming, or you risk trimming off next year's blooms.  I learned this the hard way when I clipped back my lilac bushes one warm July morning, many years ago.  The following spring the bushes were shapely--and very green.  I'd clipped off every last bud!

As for flowers, there are a few hard-and-fast rules.  For example, if you deadhead roses and mums, you'll promote new growth (you're essentially tricking the plant into putting forth new flowers when you take existing ones), but deadheading won't garner you any more blooms on your flowering bulbs.
If you're unsure whether certain plants will re-bloom if you deadhead them, why not try it?  At the very least, you'll remove old growth, improving the appearance of the plant. 

If you're looking to increase the number of plants in an area, don't deadhead.  After my poppies finished their blooming last year, I was tempted to cut off the long, gangly stems, but instead I tucked them under the foliage of a Montauk daisy because I wanted the seed heads at the top of the stems to dry out and burst forth with fresh seeds.  It was a good idea.  This year I had twice as many poppies in the flower bed.

Petal profusion

I've decided that the third week in June is the absolute loveliest in my upstate New York garden.  The sheer variety of shapes and colors is nothing short of inspiring.  It's the time of year that every gardener strives for, and every corner of the yard is chock full of nature's magnificent bounty.

Of course planning your garden space for continuous blooming from early spring through late autumn is vital for optimal enjoyment, but so many plants burst into blossom in late June...you don't want to miss out on the profusion!

I've listed my five favorite late-June bloomers because they never fail to satisfy.  The following plants produce year after year, reliable as clockwork, and lovely as a debutant at her first ball.

Daylily (Hemerocallis):  Pictured above, this lovely beauty's name is derived from two Greek words: "beauty," and "day," since each bloom lasts only one day.  It's the height of tragedy that something so divine is so fleeting, but philosophers tell us this is a metaphor for life, right?  Enjoy the perfection of each bloom as it emerges because it will bask in sunshine and human attention for a mere twenty-four hours (twelve, really...how many of us sit amid our blooms in the middle of the night?).  Fortunately each stalk has numerous buds, so the daylilies actually bloom for a number of weeks, well into July.  New cultivars will flower again and again.  Look for these versions for maximum flowering potential.  Good ones: 'Stella de Oro,' 'Barbara Mitchell,' and 'Dragon's Eye.'   

What makes this plant perfect for any Northeast garden?  The reasons are a varied as the rainbow of colors the plant is available in:  drought-tolerant, needs only average soil, suffers few pest and disease ailments, and can bloom in even part-sun conditions (though not as profusely as in full sun).  Daylilies grow anywhere from a foot (check out 'Happy Endings') to the orange-blossomed, six-foot staples you see naturalized along highways.  Study cultivars before coming up with a planting plan.

Virginia Sweetspire (Itea virginica):  The sweetspire's fragrant white tassels are not only attractive to bees, butterflies and humans, but add flourish without competing with the many other blooms in an area.  Another plus: this is actually a flowering shrub, so long after the flowers fade, you've got a lovely plant with dark green foliage.  I like the 'Henry's Garnett' cultivar because it turns crimson in fall.  What makes it especially good is that it tolerates drier soils (though prefers moist areas), grows well in areas that have filtered shade or full sun, and is a U.S. native so will adapt to your garden with ease.  I have it growing right along my pond's edge (below, right).

Butterfly bush (Buddleia davidii): Available in shades of purest white to deep purple, I was able to find one in stunning fuchsia.  Sadly, I can't remember where I got it, but I'm so very glad I did.  Its deep green foliage and magenta blooms provide such a contrast to the orange flowers of the nearby daylilies (also pictured above) that it makes me smile each time I see the pairing.  When I was a humble horticultural student, a professor asked the class to design a flower garden utilizing two hues that we didn't think meshed.  The colors I shoes were orange and pink.  What I discovered then--and marvel at now--is what a dynamic duo orange and pink can be.  A more significant lesson:  When it comes to flowering plants, there are no bad color combinations.

The butterfly bush is particularly good in any garden because it blooms from early summer to frost, drawing hordes of its namesake beauties to its nectar-rich flowers all season long.  It prefers a sunny spot, so put it in a place that gets at least six hours of sun a day.  Other than that, it's not too finicky, requiring only average soil and moderate maintenance.  I planted mine next to my little dock with a bright red bench on it to draw the butterflies pond-side.

I especially enjoy the way the bright green foliage and pink blooms are offset by the maroon foliage of the ninebark behind the butterfly bush (right).  Planting these together was not by design, but a happy accident. 

Trumpet vine (Campsis):  As is the case with the butterfly bush I just touted, some consider trumpet vine a weed.  Hey one man's trash is another man's treasure, right?  I'll gladly invite these "weeds" to reside in my yard for as long as they like.  In fact, I let my trumpet vine meander its way through my garden just to see where it goes.  Not that I don't have to keep an eye on it.  Left unchecked, this vine can choke out other plants.  Fortunately it never takes offense to a harsh pruning.  I've been known to cut mine back to mere inches from the ground.

Of course, it's more fun to watch it misbehave in places, like under my second-story guestroom window (pictured below).  Thinking I'd trained it to adhere to the pergola we'd set up, it set its sights upward--and blazed a new path right along the asphalt shingles above the arbor!

Once established, trumpet vine requires absolutely no attention, and garners plenty of praise from visitors.  It may, in fact, be the most-noticed of all the plants in my garden spaces.  If you like a challenge, and don't always have to be in control, give this free-spirited vine a whirl.

Hydrangea (Hydrangea macrophylla):  To me, this plant is the fairest of them all.  It blooms pink or blue, depending on the acidity of the soil (blue in acidic conditions, pink in alkaline soil), and never fails to make my garden visitors smile.  Although it first blossoms in late June, the flowers remain all season long, and can be easily clipped for dried arrangements and wreathes.  It truly is a floral gift that keeps on giving.


Nestled among naturalized buttercups, native smilacina, and potted annuals in my back yard, I revel in the pristine blue hues and sheer abundance of buds.  Hydrangeas give part-shade gardens lasting pizazz with absolutely no effort on the gardener's part.  A word to the wise: wrap plants in burlap in winter to protect them from harsh temperatures.  Bitterly cold winters freeze the buds right off the stems.  As you can see from the photo, right, the extra effort paid off.  My hydrangea has more blooms this season than ever before!

Stop clover from taking over

I often think that Mother Nature likes to mess with us just a little--like gently teasing small children.  You know you really shouldn't, but their reactions are so delightful that you often can't resist.  Take, for example, my never-ending battle with moss in my front yard.  To recap recent activities, I've elevated trees out front (taken the lower dozen branches off each tree) to allow more sunlight into the area, dusted existing moss with baking soda to kill it off, and  planted new grass in May, when cool temperatures and increased rainfall are supposed to optimize growth.  Then I watered diligently--twice a day.  My hard work paid off, to a point.  I DID get rid of the moss.  But I didn't get my lush, plush coating of healthy, green grass.  I got clover.

Why this happened is no mystery.  The reason for my rollicking hills of clover is due solely to mischief: Mother Nature playing games.  She switched up the months on me.  The month of May, known for cool spring breezes and pop-up showers, came in hot and heavy as the "dog days" of August.  Local meteorologists reported it the second-hottest, driest May on record in this area of the Northeast.   June was full of bluster.  The previous month's heat obviously left it cranky and deciding to make up for things, because of the 18 days we've experienced this month, 10 have been cooler and rainier than normal.  All my gently placed grass seed burned up in May, despite my conscientious watering.  My newly sprinkled seed in early June washed away with the daily deluges, leaving bare patches of earth where the moss had once been, and the clover was happy to occupy.

Now I've got nothing against clover.  It's better for the grass than moss because it "fixes" nitrogen in the soil (which means having the ability to obtain nitrogen from the atmosphere and “fix” it in nodules on plant roots).  Since nitrogen is the key ingredient for healthy, green blades of grass, I'm grateful for the amendment.  But other things benefit by the increased availability of nitrogen--like clover!  See the dilemma?  Standing on my front-porch steps gazing out over a veritable sea of white clover blooms, I swear I can hear laughter in the wind! 

Fortunately there are eco-friendly ways to get rid of the clover, but timing is important.  If you've got just a bit of clover, now's the time to pop it out of the ground before it spreads.  The blossom is a key place to start.  Gently grasp the bud and pull.  The bud is always on one of the main runners, so if you're careful you can get a whole lot of the plant out with just a few tugs.  Unlike pesky weeds like dandelion, which have deep taproots, the clover spreads by rhizomes that sit at the ground's surface, so getting it out is easier. 

 

For larger areas, spray clover patches with full-strength white vinegar first.  When clover starts turning yellowish-brown, take a garden rake to yank at the rhizomes.  Once you've removed all the clover, rake deep furrows into the ground and replant the grass seed.  Do this within a few days or weeds will take up residence in the bare spots. 

To prevent clover from taking over next year, put down 10-20 pounds of Corn Gluten Meal over the area where the clover is growing. Corn Gluten Meal is a natural suppressant for seed germination. It won't hurt the environment or you, and it will add about 10% nitrogen to the grass, which is about all it needs.

When all else fails, remember this: if you can't beat it, eat it!  Rip clover out, and toss it with lettuce and other veggies for an eco-friendly, and economical salad.  
 

 

 

 

Why won't my iris and peony bloom?

Ever notice how nurturing a garden is a lot like raising kids?  Like our children, we try to establish our plants, encouraging them to lay down roots, and flourish.  We organize their space and weed out the bad influences that threaten to take over their territory or rob from them of nutrients.  Kinda like a bully demanding lunch money.

As the garden matures, we make plenty of mistakes.  We choose the wrong companions for them at times.  We don't always make the effort to study their individual natures, and they wilt.  Instead of rooting out our own errors, we become baffled, and decide there must be something wrong with the plants.  At times we become discouraged or busy, and the garden suffers neglect.

Through all the daily triumphs and travails, we cobble together a relatively healthy, attractive garden space and pat ourselves on the back.  After years of hard work we've established an enviable plot of land that friends and neighbors admire, flush with plush plantings that we enjoy spending time with.  Our job here is done.  The plants have grown and can pretty much tend to themselves.  We, proud parents, are merely in maintenance mode.

But then things go wrong.  For me, it was the failure of my well-established peony to produce the abundance of blossoms it usually does.  And the bearded iris didn't bloom at all this year!  I'd diligently created space around these plantings, so they wouldn't get crowded out of the flowerbeds.  I'd divided the iris last year, sprinkling rhizomes around the yard so they could take off in many areas.  I'd even doused them with fertilizer in May, to ensure they'd have the proper nutrients to reach their maximum potential.  But my efforts, it seems, were in vain.

So what do we do when our "babies" fail to thrive?  If you're like me, the first thing we do is panic.  We doubt.  Then we let determination take over.  I hit the Internet running, and thumbed through my extensive library of garden manuals.  Here's what my research turned up:

When a peony doesn't bloom

Temperature:  Part of the problem is out of our control.  Peonies thrive in cooler zones Usually zones 3-7).  They need to have a certain amount of days in the off season that dip below 40 degrees in order to properly form buds.  If your winter was milder than usual, the peonies will suffer for it, and produce fewer blooms.  This was NOT the case in upstate New York this past winter, so I had to look elsewhere for the culprit.

Light:  Peonies like at least six hours of sun each day.  Knowing this when I planted my peony 15 years ago, I chose the sunniest spot in my yard.  Unfortunately my nearby Japanese maple, only as tall as the day lilies back then, has grown to 30 feet.  It literally steals some of the peony's sunshine.  So today I put in a call to my arborist to schedule a trim.

Plant depth:  Peonies don't like a lot of soil smothering their roots.  Of course I planted them shallowly, but over the years as I've added other plants and amended the area, I inadvertently covered the peony roots in additional soil.  This, I believe, is the main reason my plant is suffering.  What can I do?  Today I will gently scrape some of the soil from the area, but it's really too late to aid the peony this season.  After August 15, I can gently lift the plant out (starting to dig a full foot-and-a-half away so I don't slice any roots), and replant it so that it has only an inch of soil around its roots.   This is tricky because peonies don't love being moved.  I must be careful not to damage the roots or foliage.  And I'll amend the soil with dehydrated cow manure and sphagnum peat moss before I place the plant back in the area.

When bearded iris won't bloom

Tight quarters:  If bearded irises become overcrowded they won't blossom.  They need to be divided every three to four years.  I divided mine last spring, so I thought I would get full bloom this year.

Light and depth:  Like peonies, irises also won't bloom if they're planted too deep, or don't get enough sunlight.  When planting iris, make sure to simply lay them on the ground and cover over lightly with a half inch of garden soil.  You can even leave a thumb-sized rhizome protruding from the ground.  And they, too, require 6 hours of sunlight each day, so I suspect my yard is becoming too shady for them.

Too much of a good thing.  If irises get too much nitrogen from fertilizer, they'll be nice and green--at the expense of the blooms! Sprinkle a fertilizer no greater than 10-10-10 (which stands for the ratio of NPK values--nitrogen, phosphorus, and potassium--in soil.  These are the three main plant nutrients).

Now I must be patient.  My plants--like the kids and countless pets I've raised--do best when I allow them the time it takes to reach their full potential.

The reel deal: how to sharpen your push mower blades

I love my old-fashioned reel lawnmower.  You know what I'm talking about.  If you're over say, 40, there's a chance you at least saw one in your grandparents' garage.  I searched high and low for five years to find one.  Then one day I saw it: a little blast from the past, packaged up under the Scotts logo at my local hardware store.  No engine, just an artfully arranged cylinder of blades, two large-ish tires, and a simple handle--broad enough to push.  Hence its other name: the push mower.  Memories of watching my brother push the rhythmic grass leveler around my grandpa's yard filled my mind (sadly, I was not allowed to use the mower.  Not sure if my grandparents thought I'd hurt myself, or it just wasn't a ladylike activity).

The push mower is the perfect solution for those of us who have small lawns and/or want to cut our grass in the most eco-friendly way possible.  After all, the benefits are indisputable: no need to buy gas or oil; no air-polluting fumes spewing around our gardens; and a full-body workout while we guide our (wo)man-powered machines around our yards.  Yup, yours truly uses mine every week without harming myself or feeling less feminine.  Added benefits: the gentle swish-swish hum of the blades as they slice through the landscape, perfectly complementing (as opposed to drowning out) the birdsong from the nearby trees.  Far preferable to the unrelenting decibels of their motorized counterparts.  And then there's the smell: freshly cut grass.  Such a popular scent that Yankee Candle even offers this variety in wax.  Incidentally, they don't have a candle called "hydrocarbon exhaust," which is the stench coming off the gas-engine mowers.

Yes, I love my reel mower.  I DO NOT love keeping the blades sharpened.  Doing so, in fact, has proven quite a challenge to me over the past few years.  Yet I have found a few tricks for keeping my push-mower blades sharpened.  Here's what I've discovered:

*Don't bring your push mower to a lawnmower repair and sales shop unless the blades can be individually removed.  Staff cannot fit the pre-formed cylinders on the machines to sharpen the blades, so they have to sharpen them by hand, which is costly--if they'll even do it.  The one near me won't.

*Don't go in for gimmicks.  I purchased a Lawn Mower Blade Sharpener, which looked like a little pumice stone on a stick.  It seemed handy enough, since it hooked right into a rotary tool.  Problem was, it was so small that it only sharpened one mower blade before disintegrating. At four bucks each, it didn't satisfy claims to "save time and money," since I needed to buy six of them (one for each blade--$24!) and waste a lot of time changing out the electric drill.

*Do spend the time and attention needed to get the job done right.  With an "old school" implement like a reel mower, the old way of sharpening can be best.  Try metal finishing sandpaper or a coarse sharpening stone. Sharpening individual blades with a stone or sheet of sandpaper is pretty hard work, but there are sandpaper sharpeners that get the job done quicker.  You attach the sharpener to the back blade and brush against the cutting blades as they rotate past. The more you push, the sharper it gets.  This method can be a time-gobbler, depending on your arm strength and patience.  It can be as frustrating as--need I say it--watching the grass grow.

*Do go with the tried and true: a backlapping sharpening kit. This type of kit includes sharpening compound and a handle. You start by attaching the handle to the driving gear on the mower, then, apply sharpening compound to all of the blades of the mower using a paint brush. Next, start cranking the mower backwards so that the blades scrape each other down to a smooth edge.  The problem with this method is that it takes some serious arm strength, which I don't have.  This method is best for someone like my pal Karen, who has a freakishly strong upper-body area.

*Do look for new options.  In the same vein as "when all else fails, read the instructions," I've decided to look up sharpening options through the maker of my push mower: Scotts.  Low and behold, they offer a reel mower sharpening kit.  Who knew it could be that easy?  Clearly not I.  What can I say?  I'm not always the "sharpest blade in the drawer."   In any case,  I've just ordered mine through Amazon, and I'll keep you posted on the results.

One thing gardening pros recommend after sharpening your push mower: coating blades with a light application of oil.  This can prevent rust and other corrosion from setting in. Low acidity vegetable oil is a good choice because it won't leave any harmful residue on your lawn, and will protect the blades from moisture.  This handy trick will help you cut costs--as well as grass--for years to come.

Pretty pairing

When I gaze at the vast array of flora in spring and summer gardens, my brain starts spinning, making mental notes about various plant sizes, shapes, growing habits, and colors.  I can't help calculating, assessing, touching and smelling the flowers and foliage.  My mind darts like that little ball in a pinball machine, touching off ideas, lighting up with infinite plant-pairing possibilities.

This most pleasurable of games really gears up in mid-May, when so many plants come into their own.  My favorite pairing of the past three years or so, has been the Tiarella cordifolia (foamflower) and fern combination (left).  The Tiarella has lovely ivy-esque foliage and frothy white blossoms that seems to float above the intricately patterned ferns for an effect that's tremendously pleasing.  Since these plants thrive in shade, it's a great choice for under trees. 

As I wander garden paths, perusing this season's offerings, I've come across a lot of dynamic duos.  Here's what I've discovered:

The A's have got it going on:  Amsonia hubrichtii (Blue Star--in front) and Azalea are a winning combination.  I especially like the gentle baby-blue blossoms paired with a bright punch of color, like this magenta azalea, shown below:

A pop of color, like this crimson Papaver--the poppy--always catches the eye, but framing it in a field of wild geraniums (Geranium maculatum) with deep purple blooms really adds the wow factor:

Gorgeous groundcover groupings are as varied as imagination allows.  Here's a marriage made in horticultural heaven (in my humble opinion):  Lily-of-the-Valley (Convallaria majalis) and pachysandra terminalis.  Looking down, it appears that the pachysandra is actually budding from the convallaria!  The scent and dainty appearance of the bell-shaped flowers only adds to the overall charm:

Hope this inspires readers to mix and match in their own gardens.  Here's an idea: for instant gratification, add bright, colorful annuals into your perennial beds.  The pairing possibilities are endless!

To bee or not to bee

I know I've written a lot about the honeybee population, but it's the only way I know of to shine a spotlight on the problem--they're disappearing!  I don't want to be an alarmist, but I must admit, my heart races at the latest "diminishing honeybee" reports: bee hives down 42% in the past decade.  And new research indicates that bees are dying at an alarming rate in warm-weather months.  We all know that the winter stresses the bees out (let's face it, it's tough on all of us, so we can relate, right?), but their demise during the spring and summer is distressing.  It's the time that these industrious little creatures should be at the top of their game, thriving, and making honey.

As we all know, this is not a new problem.  It's been about a decade or so since entomologists started really focusing on the issue.  I recall a lively debate in class, with a professor detailing the emerging bee decline back in 2008.  In 2009, reports seemed to suggest that the problem was an anomaly, and the bee population was making a healthy resurgence.  But just as we were taking a collective sigh of relief, the trend dipped downward once again...and stayed that way.

Why should we care?  The answer is obvious: Do we like to eat?  If so, we have to ensure the bees have a place in this world.  According to a CBS News report, which aired this past Sunday, May 17th, one in three bites of food we place in our mouths is pollinated by honeybees.  We've reached a critical point in this issue, and we can't just wait for others to take action.  Our government is launching a 15-million-dollar study into the causes, but I sure as heck don't want to wait for bureaucrats to determine what's best for me.  I plan to learn all I can about these dying bees--and take action.

As anyone following this blog knows, my research has highlighted a number of potential culprits in bee decline:  parasites (see my blog post from June 9th, 2014), human takeover of bee habitats, and pesticide use.  We may or may not be able to prevent parasites, but we certainly can do our part not to spread infected bees around, and to make our homes welcoming to these tiny winged warriors.  Do I even need to harp on the reasons we shouldn't be using pesticides?  As my many posts from the past have pointed out, pesticides KILL.  And their continued use, in my humble opinion, will kill us all eventually. 

As for the parasites, main culprits seem to be Varroa mites (see my post from  July 15th, 2014).  Ironically, the use of bee skeps, those charming roped domes used by Colonial farmers,  may be causing diseased bees to spread around our neighborhoods.  I just discovered that bee skeps are illegal!  First of all, the skeps--the bees' homes--have to be destroyed in order to extract the honey.  Take away a bee home and food source and what do you get?  Dead bees.  Additionally, all beekeepers in the U.S. are required to keep honeybees in a hive with frames that can be removed for inspection.  The law, set up by the USDA, helps control mite infestation.  It's also more humane because you can take a portion of the honey without destroying the bees.

That's not to say we can't do our part to encourage bees into our yards.  As my previous posts, mentioned above, detail, we can incorporate bees into our daily lives by setting up hospitable places in our yards (they especially like hollowed-out trees, so think twice about chopping down that dead hickory on the edge of your property).  And for goodness sake, don't swat at a curious bee flitting around you!  It's not evil incarnate, ready to do battle with the Big Bad Human.  It may be attracted to the red shirt or yellow dress you're wearing, thinking there may just be a juicy flower attached to you.  It may confuse the soda can emanating sugar vibes with the sweet nectar it seeks.  Harsh movements only confuse and frighten bees.  Sit still, let it figure you out, and then it will be on its way.  Remember, stinging is a bee's defense mechanism.  If it doesn't have to defend itself, it won't attack you.

As for pesticide use, let's all make a vow to cut it out.  For good.  I understand the reasoning behind the need to buy that bottle of bug-killer.  We spend untold hours trying to coax plants from the soil, and to see our efforts destroyed by the little buggers is dismaying.  How bad could one little bottle be?  But if every person across the nation thought this way, there'd be (and are!) millions of bottles out there, spewing toxins into the air, and coating the surface of our planet in life-killing solutions.   It's senseless when there are many effective all-natural ways to rid yourselves of mites and bugs that feast on our garden greens.  And they're easier than ever to get  (see my beneficial bug post from April 28th, 2014).  In fact, I'm planning on placing my ladybug and nematode order with Amazon today.  Let's encourage critters who feed on foliage-foragers into our green spaces, and the problem will be solved for good!

An evolving attitude about bee decline seems to involve bee practices themselves.  The growing sentiment is that many beekeepers are becoming greedy.  Just like that slave-driving boss who overworks and underpays employees, many beekeepers appear to be driving the honey-making business into the ground.  A number of environmentalists are now focusing on this aspect of colony collapse in the bee world.  Modern apiculture has turned hives into big business, treating them like chemical factories--with pest strips hanging inside hives, and doses of tetracycline showered over them to keep mites away.  Worker bees seem to have become weary and despondent over these developments.  Like anyone who is taken advantage of, they reach a breaking point--a time when it's easier to go elsewhere.  Sadly, when the honeybees take off, they leave their unborn young abandoned.

The good news, according to master beekeeper Ross Conrad, author of the wildly popular Natural Beekeeping: Organic Approaches to Modern Apiculture (Chelsea Green Publishing), when we start treating the bees sweetly, they'll return the favor--and stay with us.  "Success comes from treating bees organically, by emulating nature," says Conrad.

A new method of beekeeping creating a buzz: Flow Hive, created by a family from Australia, with a hive design that keeps the bees undisturbed as they go about their business.  Extracting the honey is as easy as turning on a faucet, which takes the work out of harvesting.  The revolutionary idea took off on the crowdsourcing site, Indiegogo in March, raising $5.6 million.   Co-inventor Cedar Anderson warns that owners still need to know what they're doing, and inspections are mandatory for ensuring that the bees in their hives are healthy.  Anyone interested in starting a hive should link up with local beekeeping groups to learn how to properly care for bees.