#55 Middle of July – Time to Weed

It’s the middle of July – time to weed. The madman says if we’re lucky our bug problems are under control. We have found, squished and drowned large numbers of the big three – the ones that cause us the most problems. You may have a different list, but our big three are the Squash bug (Anasa tristis), Colorado potato beetle (Leptinotarsa decemlineata), and Striped cucumber beetle (Acalymma vittatum), and we definitely have them under control.

So we can just sit back and enjoy the fruits (or vegetables) of our labor, right? Well, not exactly. Now we have to face the next set of pests. You know what they are, the weeds. This might be a good time to give you the madman’s definition of a weed. Very simply, “a weed is a plant that is growing where it is not supposed to be.” The rain we had at the end of June did wonders for our plants and for the madman’s mood – no need to haul water for a while. But, rainstorm irrigation is not selective – everything got the water and that includes the weeds.

Non-Weed Weeds

Last year we wrote about our top ten weeds, not much has changed there so we’d like to talk about a different type of weed – those nice plants growing in the wrong place. The madman hates to remove any plant that has done him the honor of sprouting; at least until he’s identified it, and even then the removal is tough. Consequentially our garden beds have some strange looking or very out of place plants.

Sometimes this habit of his can cause some problems, like last year when he found some strange plants springing up in his sweet pepper row. “Oh, I wonder what these things are,” he said when he first noticed them. After a few weeks of observation, he noted they were some type of melon so he decided to see what type. Turns out they were the type that inhibited the production of sweet peppers by taking over the entire bed. As he pulled them out I overheard him say, “This wasn’t such a good idea.”

Buffalo-bur

But he never does seem to learn the fine art of removing potential problems. Right where the pea row joins the cucumber row, I found a healthy Buffalo-bur (Solanum rostratum). Not familiar with this plant? Consider yourself lucky. A couple of years ago, the madman found one growing under the bird feeder. A Buffalo-bur is a member of the Solanacea family so it’s related to tomatoes and eggplants, but more closely to Deadly nightshade (Atropa belladonna). It starts out as a friendly looking seedling, but suddenly sprouts vicious thorns all over its stems and leaves. These nasty looking thorns can be toxic and plant gurus suggest giving the plant a wide berth.

This is not a plant you want in your vegetable garden or any other high traffic area in your yard. Once it gets too big, removal is nigh impossible. Just the sort of plant that tickles the fancy of the madman. It will take me some time to convince him to get rid of it.

Mizuna

 While we’re still in the vegetable garden, I have found a couple of other specimens that have definitely crossed the line from vegetable to weed. The first is Mizuna (Brassica rapa var. nipposinica), a delightfully spicy Asian green grown for its feathery red or green leaves. Tastes great, but it easily goes to seed and self-sows all over the place – worse than Cilantro (Coriandrum sativum) or Dill (Anethum graveolens). It’s nice to have plants self-sow, but too much of a good plant can be a problem, so you have to be diligent in snipping off the seed heads or you will find yourself with some useful plants you are now calling weeds. The madman used to carefully transplant these volunteers and I don’t have to tell you how labor intensive that is. Now, they just get sent to the compost.

Let’s move over to the flower beds. Here, life is much more interesting with the madman. Other people have carefully organized flower beds or well thought-out native plantings. The beds are neat and the plants are relatively safe – no thorns or toxins. We have these, too, but the madman likes to add some more-interesting plants. So we grow exotics. Since the offbeat also appeals to me, I just let him go. Coincidentally, some of his offbeat plants are aggressive self-sowers so we spend a great deal of time pulling and moving these excess plants.

Maypop Passionflower

 The first one that comes to mind is the Maypop passionflower (Passiflora incarnata). We have grown several passiflora species in containers, but P. incarnata was the first one to escape captivity. One late spring, I noticed an unusual sprout in one of the flower beds. It wasn’t a common weed that much I knew, so I let it grow. Then it was joined by another, and another, and another…I suddenly realized that I had turned into the madman, and I couldn’t bring myself to cut them down. So the madman strung twine everyplace – to the house, to the trees, to the fences. The vines were full of flowers and fruits, but this at the expense of two flower beds. I vowed not to let it take over again.

For those of you with a horticulturally curious mind, the Maypop passionflower vine is native to southeastern United States. It is noted for its striking white to purple flowers and vitamin rich fruit. I never did learn how to harvest the fruit, so this year I decided I can get rid of a good portion of the sprouts, especially those growing in the lawn. Interestingly, the University of Missouri lists this perennial vine as a weed, noting that it is problematic in crops, hayfields, pastures and roadsides.

Castor Bean

Another exotic flower turned weed is the Castor bean (Ricinus communis). The madman first came across this plant in some long forgotten seed catalog. The unique structure of the palmate leaves caught his eye and the fact that it purportedly drove away moles captured his imagination. I assume in his mind, the moles would run screaming from our yard. I don’t know where he got them from, but that first set of seeds arrived in a container that looked an awful lot like a medicine bottle sealed with caution tape. As I recall the envelope was also marked, “poison, poison, poison.” The madman’s eyes lit up.

The seeds are fascinating with their intricate designs that make a collection look more like fancy beads than deadly poison. But, deadly poison they are – four seeds will kill you. This is definitely not something to play with, especially if you have young kids or pets. Since the madman has neither of these, he feels he can afford to experiment.

According to the University of Wisconsin-Madison Castor bean is a tender perennial from East Africa, but has naturalized in tropical and sub-tropical areas of the world. And, in the madman’s garden. If the growing season is long enough, the plant will produce very showy flowers followed by interestingly spiky seed heads. When the seed heads pop, seeds are ejected with considerable force, enough force in fact to show up all over next year’s garden. By the way, we still have moles.

Datura

Under the shade of the Castor bean grows another weed with a strange introduction to our garden. On a raft trip through Desolation Canyon on the Colorado River, we came upon a white trumpet-shaped flower. Our guide said, “That’s Datura, a plant used in ceremonies among the Native Americans in this area. Unfortunately it has now become a leading cause of ER visits in the summer. It seems lots of young tourists want to sample the plant’s hallucinogenic powers.” You can bet the madman remembered that conversation – remember he loves any dangerous plant.

As soon as we got home, he began to research Datura. When he found out the plants were vespertine (evening blooming), he just had to have some. The genus Datura occurs throughout the temperate parts of the world, but has its greatest diversity in Central America. According to an article by the U.S. Forest Service, “Daturas have been used as poisons, medicines, and ritual intoxicant agents since time immemorial.” We started with seeds of Datura stramonium (commonly called Jimsonweed) and the more exotic D. metel – they all grow well for the madman, but D. stramonium became a vigorous self-seeder.

Interestingly, the plant is often erroneously referred to as Angel’s trumpet. Angel’s trumpets are actually Brugmansia, a distant perennial cousin whose trumpet shaped flowers point down. The flowers on Datura, an annual, point up and the plant is sometimes referred to as Devil’s trumpet.

Amaranth

Another southwestern plant that has become a veritable weed in the side beds is Amaranth. Amaranth has been grown as a grain for thousands of years by Native Americans. The red variety, Amaranthus cruentus also produces a red dye. When the Spanish conquered the Aztecs they banned the cultivation of Amaranth because it was an important part of native religions. Although Native Americans could no longer cultivate the plant, it quickly escaped and became a weed.

Most gardeners grow Amaranthus caudatus, also known as Love Lies Bleeding. A staple of Victorian gardens, this variety is rather tame and doesn’t readily self-sow. I guess that it just seems natural that the madman would get his hands on the prolific self-seeder A. cruentus, instead of the romantic tame variety. After a few years, it has spread throughout the garden and even he pulls it out. Interestingly, it has become a nice companion plant for his hot peppers. It has established itself as a regular volunteer in the Row of Death shading his precious hot peppers during the heat of July and August. When the weather cools he judiciously cuts the amaranth back.

Morning Glory

The last flower turned weed is Morning glory (Ipomea). This plant was also known to the Aztecs who used the seeds as a hallucinogenic. Nicknamed the Back-to-School flower because it seems to be best in early September, Morning glory is an annual vine producing many trumpet shaped flowers in a variety of colors. The flowers open in the morning and close by nightfall. Since the hummingbirds love this flower we grow lots of it – in a variety of spots in our yard.

Our favorite is Ipomoea coccuna, the red-orange variety that our hummingbirds tend to favor. Because it is such an aggressive self-seeder, accept the fact that if you grow Morning glories once you will always grow Morning glories. Actually that’s not so bad because they are easy to train onto trellises. And, that’s how the morning went – I trained the Morning glories to follow the twine trellises while the madman lifted his garlic.

Now it’s time for lemonade.