Peonies: Hello, garden, my long-lived friend
With January just underway, I thought it would be appropriate to begin today's column with some words of wisdom from a revered source some 200 years old: The Old Farmer's Almanac.
Their lore, common-sense suggestions, and pithy observations have been part of many gardeners' lives for all that time, and I, for one, am delighted to know that the month's full moon is known as the Full Wolf Moon. Folks were told to beware of it when "hungry wolves howl outside the villages." It makes it seem greater than just your old run-of-the-mill full moon, doesn't it? Another name for the moon is the Old Moon, and to some Native American tribes, it was once called the Snow Moon, but that name has now been applied to February's full moon.
We're also told: "Promises and piecrust are made to be broken" (Jonathan Swift, 1667–1745); "put dry, used coffee grounds to work as a deodorizer for the refrigerator or cat's box" (OFA); "the last 12 days of January rule the weather for the whole year" (OFA); and that "In January, if the sun appears, March and April will pay full dear" (OFA).
The OFA also advises gardeners drooling over the many catalogs now arriving to "write down everything you want … then cut the list in half." That's good advice, and I admit to being one who "ooohs and aaahs" over the beauties that bloom in the catalogs. I have, however, cut down to only a few goodies, some of which I have mentioned before.
One of the "for sures" will be the old-fashioned ruffled asters (Callistephus), which have seemed to lose out the past few years to cosmos and/ or zinnias. To me, the asters are the prettiest of all, with their delicate, fluffy heads in pinks, lavenders, purples, and white. They can't be beat for a cutting garden or simply left to bloom in late-season beauty after summer's flowers have gone.
They're available from Burpee's heirloom catalog, along with the other "for sure" —the "rat's tail." This is a weird and wonderful Asian radish relative, grown not for its root but for the edible seedpods, which can be eaten raw like radishes or pickled. They're great in salads and look really neat in the garden.
However, if you are debating which perennial selections to pick for your garden, consider the most rewarding of all — the peony. Yes, they want to be happy where they're planted, because once set, they shouldn't be moved, but if you have the right spot, plant two or three clumps for your children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren to enjoy long after you're gone.
A few years ago, I visited the site where my grandmother had lived from about 1916 to 1942, and the peonies she planted are still magnificent. What a legacy! Though I don't have any of her peonies, I did dig some vintage plants nearly 20 years ago, gave some to one of my daughters, and kept four — which have had to be moved twice, unfortunately — but after sulking in this "new" site for about seven years, they perked up about four years ago and have rewarded (and obviously forgiven) me, with glorious, great, and fragrant blooms that outshine any other flower that grows.
Admittedly, it takes close to three years for a peony to mature and bloom, but once it does, it's a carefree plant. They like the sun but thrive in dappled shade; they prefer acidic soil, so they do beautifully among your evergreens.
Start them out with a big hole and plenty of composted organic mulch, and don't plant them too deeply. They're heavy feeders, so just make sure to supply them with rich mulch twice a year, preferably peaty, since they don't take kindly to alkaline soil.
By the way, leave the ants alone! They are important to the well-being of the peonies, grooming them and keeping them healthy. They eat the sweet syrup on the buds, and in doing so, they allow the buds to open. Without ants, many of the buds would rot.
To use for cut flowers, just dip the heads in a bucket of water and shake gently to remove the ants before taking them into the house. The lovely green foliage lasts through summer and fall, and it's not necessary to cut it back until it turns black since the leaves provide food for the root for the next blooming season. Mulch in the late fall to prevent frost heaves.
Editor's note: For many years, Valle Novak wrote gardening and cooking columns for the Daily Bee. "Weekend Gardener" and "Country Chef" became renowned for their humor, information, and common-sense advice on how to do everything from planting to cooking. She left behind many columns to delight her many fans. This is one such column, originally published on Jan. 7, 2001.