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YARD AND GARDEN

Plants not responding to TLC? Compost them suckers!

Gardeners are idealists stuck in a realist's world. We want everything. We want everything mature. We want things that aren't bothered by pests. We want it now.

The idealist soon realizes that reality intrudes rather abruptly. Hopes ride high in April and May, falter somewhat during the summer and bleakly come to pass in November.

David Robson

November is that in-between month. In between the greens of summer and grays of winter. There might still be some color left, but it's disappeared by the end of the month.

It's almost too late to plant bulbs, though many of us still attempt it after finding the stash underneath the boxes and rags in the garage. As long as it's warm, the bulbs still probably will amount to something. It's also better than letting them lay around collecting dust.

November, though, should be that month for in-between season's reflection. It's the time to determine what went right and what didn't.

Let's face it. All of us make gardening mistakes. Some are small. Some are doozies. Some can be blamed on the weather. Some can be laid on the doorsteps of insects and diseases. Sometimes we blame them on someone else.

There is nothing wrong with gardening failures. The sun still comes up the next morning. The earth rotates. The sun sets. Life goes on.

When I first started gardening, a dead plant was like a dead friend. Mourning would go on and on. Guilt was strong. I had killed a plant, or let it die due to some possible inaction. I was a plant murderer.

(Of course, weeds were another matter. They were compared to an annoying fly or mosquito.)

Guess what? No plant police came. The other plants didn't gang up on me, and I swear that some actually did better, maybe thinking they might be next.

In fact, I've realized that I can actually plan premeditated plant murder for things that just aren't working out. Trees or shrubs that don't grow too fast, or do grow too fast become tinder. Some perennials identified as "vigorous" in the catalogs that end up spreading into every nook and corner also were/are eliminated with a quick thrust of the spade. All without guilt.

Now, when a plant makes that visit to the compost pile, I view the results as two-fold: a learning experience, and the opportunity to stick something else in the space.

My garden notebook records my successes and failures. I've found that peppers do better in pots than in the ground. Alyssum and black-eyed Susans spread too quickly next to the acanthus, which also spreads its little perennial fingers everywhere. I can tell you several of next year's All America Selection winners are great (check out the pepper, vinca and pinks) and the only good thing that can be said of others is that they break down quickly in the compost pile.

Some lettuce and tomatoes out perform others. With all the possibilities on the market, I don't give a second thought to plants that don't seem to like my spot.

Do the same in your yard. This winter, reflect on what works and what doesn't. Get rid of plants you don't like. You have my blessing and permission. Think about replacements for next spring.

David Robson is an Extension Educator, Horticulture, at the Springfield Extension Center, University of Illinois Extension. You can write to Robson in care of Illinois Country Living, P.O. Box 3787, Springfield, IL 62708. Telephone: (217) 782-6515. E-Mail: robsond@mail.aces.uiuc.edu

16 ILLINOIS COUNTRY LIVING NOVEMBER 1999