Tomatoes for Thanksgiving by Duane Davidson

I've volunteered to provide the salad for this year's Thanksgiving dinner. I plan to show off my fresh home-grown tomatoes. I always try to have a taste of my own tomatoes as late as the beginning of December. You could, too. Here's how.

I grow tomatoes mostly in containers these days. A couple of the containers are lightweight pots of manageable size. (Mine are made of a foam material, but sturdy plastic would do.) They spend the summer in my backyard. At the end of the season I bring them inside when an overnight freeze is expected. But they go back out into the sunshine every time the temperature reaches 50 degrees. I don't expect the plants to continue blooming and setting fruit, but this is a good way to let existing fruit ripen – more or less naturally.

On cooler days the tomato plants are happy to stay inside my south-facing sun porch. But we usually have a lot of warm days in the fall after the first freeze or two. I like to take advantage of them. I find the warmest spot and put the tomatoes outside, usually in a corner facing southwest, which traps the heat. They need to come back into the porch at night. Because the pots are lightweight, they're easy to move. 

        I've also kept the tomato pots in the garage at night and on cold days, but they aren't as happy with less sunlight. Moving them in and out is even easier, though. One year I set them on a furniture dolly and rolled them in and out on that.

Here are a few more details about my method: I fill the pots with houseplant potting mix because it's lighter in weight than soil mixes. I add in a handful or two of a slow-release fertilizer made from alfalfa. Later, during the growing season, I give the tomatoes several doses of liquid fertilizer made from seaweed or worm compost. I also mix in a handful of polymer, already hydrated, to help even out the availability of moisture and keep the pots cooler. My preferred tomato variety is Czech's Bush, which does well for me in containers. I found this variety at a garden center some years ago, and now grow my own plants from seed. The fruit is small to medium in size – larger than cherry tomatoes but considerably smaller than beefsteak varieties, which – in a pot – would set fewer tomatoes, and which likely would break the plant's stems. There are other varieties recommended for containers. They could be cherry or grape-size types, but should be "determinate" so as not to grow vines too large to be moved about without breaking off.

Straw Bales Garden by Duane Davidson

(Click on Image for Slide Show of Process)

The idea came from an article in a gardening magazine. I was already changing the way I gardened in the back yard, adding raised beds and converting lawn sprinkler heads into drip irrigation distributors. Why not give a corner over to a small straw bale garden and see what I might grow there? My approach to gardening has always been about trying something new and learning from my experiments. The uncertainties of gardening make it fun for me. Introducing new elements only heightens the challenge.

The author of the magazine article had some specific reasons for creating her straw bale garden – aside from the vegetables she expected to harvest. She utilized a spot in her yard where the soil was so poor she had never grown anything but weeds in it. By the following year it was covered in a thick layer of rich compost "replete with fat and happy worms." She figured she could revitalize another plot with a straw bale garden each year, progressively improving her whole yard.

The instructions were simple. Lay four bales of straw, flat sides to the ground, one end of each bale abutting the side of another, forming a square on the perimeter and another square cavity in the center. I put a layer of rabbit wire on the ground under the bales, to deter any critters from burrowing into the straw from below.

Then I was instructed to sprinkle a granular organic fertilizer on the top surface of the bales, followed by a 2-3 inch layer of compost. The hole in the center was filled with a mixture of compost and top soil (which I had brought in for the new raised beds nearby). The straw bales were to be watered every day for 10 days with a liquid organic fertilizer. I used liquid kelp. This was to "cook" the straw, causing it to start to break down  to better accommodate plant roots.

After 10 days the bales were planted. I put in three tomato plants, two indeterminate varieties on the rear corners of the square, and an early season determinate on one front corner. On the other front corner, I planted an artichoke I had picked up on impulse at the garden center. (One year I experimented with artichokes in a conventional garden; I found they needed a longer growing season than I had allowed for.) The magazine article writer had grown a huge summer squash bush. I decided to seed a couple of winter squash varieties that would produce vines to trail down from the straw bales into the yard. A couple of eggplants I had grown from seed completed the "garden."

The center cavity seemed to invite root vegetables to grow in its deep, rich, loose filling. I opted for parsnips, which have no chance of penetrating the heavy clay of my conventional garden. Because parsnips are slow to germinate, the seed packet always recommends mixing in some radish seeds with them to mark the rows. The radishes germinate quickly and can be harvested by the time the parsnips are getting started. I mixed in seeds of several varieties. I also had on hand some seed for daikon, the long white radish loved and grown in Asia. I figured I had the perfect spot for them and seeded a couple rows.

Then I laid a length of soaker hose over the straw bales, looped it a couple times across the center, and began a schedule of almost daily watering. I continued applications of the liquid kelp several times through the summer.

The results: I harvested fruit from all of the plants except the artichoke, which grew only a few leaves. The tomato plants were not as large as the same varieties growing in the ground, nor did they produce as much fruit. The same was true of the eggplants and squash. I ate the small radishes in my salads, but the parsnips weren't planted early enough to grow beyond the size of a small carrot. The daikons flourished. They grew to the full depth of that center cavity, and when they reached the rabbit wire on the bottom, they began growing upwards, protruding from the surface of the soil.

Some findings:

- In 10 days of fertilizer treatments the straw didn't break down much. The "composting" process probably works better where the climate is not so dry as ours. (The magazine article writer lived in the coastal area of northern California.) When I planted, the holes I made in the straw didn't seem all that inviting for plant roots. There was moisture from the irrigation, of course, and I worked some of the compost from the surface into the straw. Next time I might add some soil, as well.

- For the same reason, even a year later, the straw is not composted. The bales have "melted" a little, but still retain their shape. I expect to replant them again this year. (Because the weather has been so cool, most of this year's planting is still on hold.)

- Typical weeds were not a problem. Those that came with the compost were easily pulled. But the straw produced its own weeds. This was wheat straw and it contained enough wheat seed to keep me pulling wheat grass most of the season.

Straw bale gardening is not a new idea. Seeing mine, an elderly neighbor told me he had tried it once – without success; I didn't question him on his process. On the Internet I found numerous references, some describing variations from the process I followed. Most of the reasons for straw bale gardening are similar to those of my magazine article writer, but there was one I hadn't thought of: it is more accessible to physically-limited gardeners.

I found two other variations I might consider if I repeat my experiment. Some of the writers believe the straw bales should be oriented differently from the way my article writer and I did it. They say the bales should be placed with the strings on the side – rather than on the top and bottom – for better water penetration and to keep the string from touching the ground and decaying. Others say that if the string is plastic or other synthetic, it can be on the bottom and that water penetration isn't much of an issue.

Secondly, some recommend chemical fertilizers high in nitrogen – ammonium nitrate or ammonium sulfate, specifically – to condition the straw for 10 - 12 days prior to planting. Over the course of that period several writers recommend adding more than two cups of the nitrogen fertilizer per bale and conclude with another cup of balanced 10-10-10 chemical fertilizer. I feel sure this would have a significant effect on the composting process, even in our dry climate. Some gardeners, of course, would prefer to stick with organic materials.

Upside-Down Tomato Planters by Duane Davidson

My upside-down tomato vine in early October.

As I start plans for the coming gardening season it's time to evaluate several experiments from last year. Among them was a trial of one of the upside-down tomato planter.  Let me share my results. I'll begin with some overall findings and then fill in the details.

• I harvested several dozen small-medium size tomatoes from a tomato plant that grew hanging from the bottom of an "upside-down tomato planter." I picked them into late fall.

• There were no insect or disease problems except for a single instance of blossom-end rot.

• It was difficult to monitor moisture levels inside the container, but I made a daily check part of my morning chores.

• To avoid frost at the end of the season I moved the container to a sunny spot indoors where tomatoes continued to ripen on the living tomato vine.



I grow tomato plants from seed and usually plant them both in a small vegetable garden and a couple of 18-inch lightweight pots. Some years I've been able to extend the pots' growing season by rolling them into the garage on chilly nights in late September and even into October. I wondered if a hanging tomato planter might also be brought indoors when frost threatened.

I purchased a tomato planter with a water reservoir on the top. It was made of canvas stretched over a heavy wire frame with an "X" cut into the bottom for the tomato plant. The water reservoir was a solid plastic basin that held a gallon of water when filled. Water was supplied to the planting mix beneath via a synthetic fiber wick stretched across the bottom of the basin, where it was in contact with the planting mix, The two ends of the wick, which was an inch wide and about one-fourth inch thick, extended up the sides of the basin and folded over the top rim into the water. This seemed an unlikely way to water the tomato plant, but it worked.

I filled the container with moistened planting mix by laying it on its side and filling the lower half, then feeding the plant's stem and leaves through the slit, and finally filling the rest of the container up to where the water reservoir would rest. The planting mix was a typical garden center blend, to which I added an alfalfa-based slow-acting organic fertilizer. The tomato plant I had reserved for this planter was Siberian, described by the seed house as a dwarf sprawling determinate variety producing good strong-flavored 2-3" fruit 57-60 days from transplant.

I decided the best location for my container would be a southwest-facing corner, where it would have the best protection from wind. Unfortunately this spot is shaded during early morning hours, but becomes quite warm later in the day, a condition tomatoes enjoy. I suspended the container from the crossbar of a pergola-type structure.

A cluster of ripened tomatoes, including the one with blossom-end rot, caused by uneven moisture conditions.

The container came with a simple "moisture indicator" to be inserted through a small slit in the side of the container. It was to indicate when the planting mix dried out and the reservoir needed to be refilled. It stopped functioning after a couple weeks and I found I needed to feel for moisture around the tomato stem at the bottom of the container. I might have done better using the device I have for checking moisture in houseplant pots, but didn't think of it until later. I added the tomato vine to my regular morning rounds of checking and watering containers. One of the first tomato fruits to set on the vine developed blossom-end rot, an indicator of uneven watering. Fortunately, there were no more such victims.

I'm not sure the reservoir and wick system is the best way of watering in our dry climate. I found a way a way to cheat a little by pouring more water into the container than it could hold. What spilled over the rim of the container quickly soaked through to the bottom of the container and re-hydrated the plant before the wicking action got started.

When nighttime frost threatened I unhooked the container and moved it into a sun porch where I over-winter houseplants. I found it was extremely heavy and ruled out moving it indoors and out every day to take advantage of warm autumn days while protecting it from freezing nights. Instead I hung it on the side of a plant stand and let the tomato vine spread out on the floor. There were still a large number of green tomatoes on the plant. They ripened and I enjoyed eating home-grown tomatoes through most of November.

I had also planted the same tomato variety in my backyard, where its vines grew larger and produced tomatoes about one-third larger. The backyard plants received slightly more sun and more water; they also produced more cases of blossom-end rot. At the end of the season their unripened fruit had to be stripped from the vines and brought into the basement for ripening with substantial flavor loss.

Next year I may force the container plant with liquid fertilizer during the growing season and will try harder to get the watering right.

Great Plant Ideas at the Garden and Home Show by Duane Davidson

When you visit this year's Garden and Home Show, be sure to stop by the Educational Garden presented by Colorado State University. The CSU garden offers plant suggestions for every exposure in your landscape: north, south, east, and west. The center island in CSU's garden is divided into four sections, one for each type of sunlight and weather exposure. In each section are samples of plants suggested for that location. Many of the plants are in early bloom, as well, so you can get a better idea of how well they might fit into your yard.

On the sides of the CSU garden are plants for shady locations, plus a sampling of the many plants selected for the Plant Select program (which identifies plants that do well in our area), and a colorful display of spring-flowering bulbs.

The garden is staffed by Colorado Master Gardeners from the Denver area, who answer questions about the various plants and any other horticultural problems that visitors pose to them.

The show continues through Sunday, February 20. It is open noon to 8 p.m. on weekdays, 10 a.m. to8 p.m. on Saturday, and 10 a.m. to 6 p.m. Sunday.

Here's a slide show for you to enjoy!

Growing Hops for a "Native Lager" by Duane Davidson

Jeffco and other area gardeners who enjoy a cold brew on a warm day must have been intrigued by an article in the Denver Post recently. The headline and sub-head: "People's beer: AC Golden asks customers to grow hops and contribute them to its Colorado Native Lager, and 373 fans jump on board." Read it at http://www.denverpost.com/business/ci_16851639 .

The article explains that AC Golden Brewing Co., a small-batch unit of MillerCoors, brews a beer called Colorado Native Lager, "ostensibly made with all Colorado ingredients." But in truth it is only 99.89 percent local. Missing is enough locally-grown hops, which gives the beer its bitter taste.


To solve the problem (and just possibly – in my opinion – do a little product promotion) AC Golden is inviting customers to grow the hops and donate their harvest to the brewery. They announced this project on their Facebook page, and apparently drew a lot of response. The original deadline was November 15, but posts on Facebook indicate they were still accepting volunteer growers at mid-December.

The Post article explains that the brewer expects this program to yield only a small fraction of the 6,000 pelletized hops it expects to need in 2011. Colorado Native presently obtains 86 percent of its hops from Colorado, mostly commercial growers on the Western Slope. The rest comes mostly from Washington, Oregon, and Idaho.

Last summer I saw several rows of hops growing at CSU's Horticultural Research Center. They were part of the Specialty Crops Program shown to those attending the annual Turf and Horticulture Field Day. The Organic Hops Research project is testing twenty varieties of hops for their winter hardiness. There is also a study concerning hops plant disease.

I learned a little about the hops plant (Humulus lupulus) after I purchased one in a 3-inch pot several years ago. It is an easy vine to grow. It is quite hardy, but dies back to its rhizome root each year. Once mine was established growing on a yard fence, I gave it little extra water and no special care. Even so, I found it aggressive, its vines attaching themselves to nearby plants and its suckering roots invading adjacent plant beds. The flowers, which provide the beer flavoring, are a delightful surprise. They are described as cone-like spikes. Mine were up to two inches long, consisting of overlapping scales attached in whorls to a central core stem. There are some species of ornamental oregano bearing a similarly shaped flower. The scales are light green to yellow, fading and drying to a pale straw color. They are an interesting addition to floral arrangements, both fresh and dried. The standard leaf color is green, but a golden-leafed variety is considered more ornamental.

Why did I want to grow hops? Some years ago, when I had been asked to judge herbs at the Golden Garden Show, I was startled to find the show handbook listed a class for hops. I had never categorized this plant alongside thyme, rosemary, oregano, and the like. Then I realized that I was, after all, in Golden. There were no entries in this class, fortunately, as I wouldn't have known what to look for.

Later, when I came upon a plant at the Denver Botanic Gardens plant sale, I decided I should get to know it. Since that time, several local garden writers have mentioned it, particularly the golden-leaf version. They also cautioned that it's not the vine for every location.

Jefferson County Master Gardeners Seed Swap by Duane Davidson

Patti Explains Seed Saving

Picnic Lunch

About 20 Jeffco Master Gardeners and family members braved a chilly wind last Saturday, October 9, to learn about saving seeds from their gardens and then swap some seeds already collected.

The gathering was at Kendrick Lake Park, near Kipling and Jewell, in Lakewood. (This park is known for its innovative xeric garden and has been featured in previous blog postings.) The program began with Patti O'Neal of Jeffco Extension's horticulture staff talking about seeds, including the importance of efforts around the world to collect and preserve seeds. She offered tips to help home gardeners collect and store their favorite varieties of vegetables and flowers.

Seed Selection

Following a potluck picnic lunch, eaten rather hurriedly because of the blustery weather, seeds were exchanged. Those attending had been asked to bring any spare seeds they had already collected. There were annual and perennial flowers, several vegetables and vine fruits, and a couple of herbs. Most everyone found something new to plant next year, and everyone agreed that this seed swap was an enjoyable and worthwhile event to hold again next year – hopefully in kinder weather.

Thirteenth Annual Tomato-Tasting and Cider-Pressing Party by Duane Davidson

Guests tasted and rated more than 25 varieties of tomatoes at Char and Tom Gottlieb's 13th annual tomato-tasting and cider-pressing party the other weekend.  Char, a Jefferson County CSU Extension Master Gardener, grew most of the tomatoes evaluated, but several guests brought samples of their favorites, too.

They included heirloom and other large-sized red, yellow, and green tomatoes; cherry-size and other salad tomatoes; and the meaty paste (Italian-style) tomatoes. Everyone was invited to rate the tomatoes' tastiness on a scale of 1 - 5, with 5 being "great" and 1, "awful." After ratings were totaled and averaged, Sun Gold, a prolific yellow cherry tomato, came out on top. Almost everyone gave it a "5." Following just behind, all with an average above "4," were Italian Sweet, a red beefsteak-type, Pruden's Purple, a pink-purple heirloom beefsteak; and Persimmon, a yellow heirloom beefsteak.

Guests who grow apples were asked to bring some for the cider-pressing, which Tom oversaw. They brought what amounted to several bushels full, so the cider press operated non-stop for several hours, with a number of the guests taking a turn turning the apple grinder or twisting the press that squeezed out the juice. There were tastes of cider for everyone, plus extra to carry back home.

Multiple wheelbarrow loads of spent apple pulp enriched the Gottlieb compost pile.

Hosts Char and Tom Gottlieb

The sunny Saturday afternoon event brought Master Gardeners, family friends, and neighbors to Char and Tom's Arvada farmhouse. Some were participating for the first time. Others were veterans who look forward to this annual celebration of bounties from the garden. They gathered at afternoon's end on the front lawn for a potluck supper. The chill in the air at sunset reminded of fall's approach and the end of another growing season.

Molly the Witch Peony by Duane Davidson

Last year I wrote about an unusual peony, the fernleaf peony, that makes its appearance earlier each spring than its better-known cousins. Growing nearby, and blooming even earlier, is another little-known member of the peony family. This one bears the nickname "Molly the Witch," a rendering of its unpronounceable botanical name Paeonia mlokosewitschii. A half-dozen flowers began opening last weekend to join the tulips, daffodils, hyacinths, and other spring bulbs blooming on my street.

Like all peonies, Molly was slow to establish. I found her as a young seedling at the Denver Botanic Gardens spring plant sale about ten years ago. For several years I wondered if she would survive, and then nearly forgot her. Four years ago she surprised me with a bloom.

Molly is one of the first plants to send up shoots in early spring. This year they weathered at least two snowfalls. Her flowers are less resilient, of course, but are holding up well this year.

Molly the Witch originated in the Caucasus and is also known as the Caucasian peony.