Garden Detective

Unless you've been living under a pile of mulch this past year, you've surely heard the term locavore tossed about like a chopped salad. I've seen it in print articles and online, on a sign outside a local restaurant and in the produce department of one of my neighborhood groceries.

When I first heard the term, it was spelled localvore, which was a bit more intuitive. Next, it was popping up as "locovore," which I thought was more fun because it conjured up images of crazy people speaking Spanish. Alas, according to Google search results, locavore appears to be winning out, with 173,000 search results, versus 27,000 for localvore and a mere 2,200 for locovore. Last year, the New Oxford American Dictionary chose locavore as its 2007 Word of the Year.

Whether you say tomato or tomahto isn't really relative. It's where that round red fruit was grown that matters most.

So what, exactly, is a locavore? According to Wikipedia, the term locavore "was coined by Jessica Prentice from the San Francisco Bay Area on the occasion of World Environment Day 2005 to describe and promote the practice of eating a diet consisting of food harvested from within an area most commonly bound by a 100 mile radius."

A few years ago, I caught wind of Alisa Smith and James MacKinnon, a couple of Canadians who, after learning that much of the food they ate had traveled an average of 1,500 miles before landing on their plates, decided to conduct an experiment whereby they would only eat food that originated within 100 miles of their Vancouver apartment. Soon, they were documenting their endeavor -- more challenging than you'd imagine -- in a blog on an online magazine site called The Tyee.

They even turned their story into a book, published by Random House, titled Plenty: One Man, One Woman, and a Raucaus Year of Eating Locally.

It's not as easy as you might think. Do you like imported cheeses? Out. Tropical Fruits? Ixnay. And you can pretty much forget chocolate altogether. In fact, Smith and MacKinnon detailed their frustrations as well as their joys. Among them, they said, they ate a lot of potatoes.

The main drive behind the movement is ecological in nature. Eating local foods uses less "embodied energy," defined (courtesy of my husband, John, a green buildings proponent) as the sum of all energy used to grow, extract and manufacture produce, including the amount of energy needed to transport it.

So if you're eating tomatoes grown at a local farm -- or even better, in your own backyard -- think of the gasoline, truck emissions and packaging that you're saving. Less pollution in the air and in landfills.

Plus the food is fresher and probably tastier, as produce that needs to survive a long journey often is picked before it's fully ripe, never quite tasting the way it would if allowed to remain on the plant until ripe. Think about mealy winter tomatoes from the grocery store. Blech.

Interested in giving it a try? One very easy way to start is to plant a vegetable garden this spring. If you've never grown edibles, don't be intimidated, it's very easy. Get details on starting seeds and other vegetable growing information.

Another good option is shop at local farm stands (just make sure they don't ship their produce in from elsewhere. Believe it or not, some do). Or you could join a food co-op or buy a share in a Community Supported Agriculture farm. Here's a list of CSA farms on Long Island.

And some Long Island farm stands.

Read Sylvia Carter's recent column on a meal prepared will all local ingredients, A Locavore's Dinner on Long Island.

Learn more about locavoring from the Locavores website.

When I was a kid, I loved blackouts. I remember a really big one that knocked power out to all of New York City. Every person from every house in the neighborhood came out into the street. I remember one neighbor cutting up a watermelon and handing it out to all the kids. It was so cool to feel like we were part of a tightknit community (we weren't), making like we lived in a small town. We played hopscotch by flashlight.

I couldn't have been more than 4, but I remember it vividly. To this day, I love it when the power goes out. It forces my family to reconnect. No TV, no computers, no distractions. Some of my fondest memories spent with my kids are from the few times the power went out, playing charades by candlelight.

So I got pretty excited when I heard about Earth Hour, an event created last year by the World Wildlife Fund in Syndey, Australia, when lots of folks turned out their lights for an hour. This year, they're getting pretty ambitious, hoping it will spread across the planet.

And why not? Tonight at 8 p.m., I'll be joining the (hopefully) millions of people around the world in making a statement about climate change by turning off my lights for an hour. And I'm going a step further -- turning off all the distractions. I'm planing to play charades. Heck, I might even eat some watermelon.

How much do you polute? Find out your carbon footprint with this handy calculator.

PS -- Check out Google's homepage today -- it's pretty cool! I wish I could do that on my blog.

This orchid plant was given to my wife in 2006. It had lavender flowers and green leaves at the time and was thriving. Within the last couple of months, the flowers fell off, and the leaves slowly yellowed and dropped off. I had transplanted it to a larger pot and applied some orchid-specific fertilizer. Even though I watered it regularly, the plant is now a series of erect tan shoots. I think I see some green behind the dry tan covering. Is there any hope for this plant? Stuart Koenig, East Northport

Your orchid appears to be a Dendrobium, and oftentimes people worry their plant is dead when it simply has lost its leaves, much like a maple tree would. Unfortunately, that doesn't appear to be the case with your orchid. Even the bare canes of deciduous orchids look green and plump. Yours looks, well, dead.

I shared your photo with Maria Mucaria Stankowski of the Long Island Orchid Society, who noted the dark bases and grayish color of the canes. "It probably was kept too wet when it wasn't growing and the roots died," she said, explaining that orchids should be watered most when they're actively growing -- in the summer when they aren't flowering -- and not watered much when they're in bloom. Repotting also could have contributed to its demise, as orchids should never be repotted when they're flowering. It's best to repot in the spring.

In addition, the decorative moss on your plant might have prevented air from getting to the soil, keeping it soggy and contributing to the root rot.

Although there is a small green shoot growing from the plant, unfortunately, it's no reason for excitement. The canes are brown at the soil line. It's not coming back. Sorry.

Launch the slideshow

I'm going to Disney World in April to celebrate my daughter's birthday. She's bringing two friends along, and our party of 6 will spend most our time in The Magic Kingdom and the newly renamed Disney Hollywood Studios (nee MGM). She's the birthday girl. It's her choice. It's not every day you turn 16.

What this has to do with you is that although I'll be in the very-close vicinity, I won't be checking out the Disney flower fest this year. However, I got my hands on a video overview, above, and some great photos, right. Enjoy.

University of Tennessee photo

From coast to coast, slugs and snail seem to cause problems wherever they go. I've gotten laments from the west:

Would you like to meet the indigenous slug of the Northwest? You won't need your magnifying lens out here, Detective. Oh No! The Banana Slug is easily spotted on the wet pathways through the woods and it can be tracked by its iridescent trail left on the patio door glass. -- Lynn & Carel, Olympia, Washington

... and desperate pleas from the east:

Is there a way to get rid of slugs? I'm finding round holes in my hostas. -- Chris J., Patchogue

Sluggo and Escar-go! are two products that are quite effective in eliminating most slug problems, and both are natural and safe to use around pets.

But they're not cheap, so it pays to know that beer and molasses work, too. Try this first: Add ¾ inch of beer or molasses to a high-rimmed dish and place the dish in the garden under your hostas or wherever slugs hide.

Salt also is quite deadly to all slugs. When it comes in contact with them, they automatically release moisture and rush it to their outer surface, in an attempt to dilute the irritating substance. As a result, the slug dehydrates itself. Problem is, unless you're planning to sit up all night in your garden with a salt shaker (and the University of Minnesota photo at left just might inspire you to do so,) you'll need to sprinkle the stuff around your plants, and that might not be the best thing for your soil.

Some easy cultural controls that help a great deal include raking the garden well in early spring. You'll be oblivious to all the slug eggs you'll pick up with leaves and other debris. And don't mulch any thicker than 3 inches or you'll invite not only slugs but rodents, too.

A reader from Orange County, California, wrote not about problems encountered with slugs, but with snails. While snails aren't much of an issue in my garden (OK, they're not an issue at all, but I don't want to gloat), I can understand her frustration. What's really interesting is that there's a strange irony in the American snail's history.

Ordinary garden snails were brought here deliberately by the French, as they were an important part of their cuisine. Somehow, they managed to escape and multiplied like, well, like snails.

So they were brought here to be eaten, but au contraire, now your vegetables and plants are being eaten by them. Now that's what I call vengeance.

The good news is that products like Escar-go! work wonders on snails as well. Touché!

Heuchera (Coral bells), left, and Helleborus add color to shady spots.

Kathy, a reader from Little Neck, wrote, asking for plant suggestions for her shady plot. And she mentioned that hostas "don't grow well" for her.

Well, Kathy, hostas are pretty well represented in shade gardens across the New York-metropolitan area. Since you didn't say what sort of difficulty you were experiencing with them, I'll just quickly go over a few common problems.

If you're noticing round holes in the leaves, slugs are likely the culprits. If you kiss your plants goodnight in the evening and wake up to find them missing from the garden, then you can blame deer or rabbits, though I don't think that's a likely problem in Little Neck. If you're noticing mottled foliage, yellow rings or dots on the leaves, that would indicate a virus, in which case it's best to dig them up and throw them out.

Other problems can be caused by chemicals, frost damage or insufficient shade.

No matter. Since you've decided to move on, I can tell you about some beautiful and hardy shade plants that thrive here, but first I want to tell you about one plant that will not grow well - grass. If your garden is very shady, don't even bother trying to plant a lawn. Sure, nurseries sell seed mixes labeled for shade. But I don't care what the bag says: They won't produce a lush lawn.

Having said that, you'll still need a ground cover. Pachysandra terminalis (Japanese spurge) is a reliable player. It fills in nicely yet isn't invasive, remains evergreen in this area and does a tremendous job anchoring the soil. Vinca minor (periwinkle) will serve a similar purpose and flower nicely in midspring.

Ajuga

It's important to note where your shade is coming from. If it's caused by deciduous trees like dogwoods, maples or oaks, then shade is a concern for only the part of the year when the tree has leaves. You can take advantage of the sun exposure before the tree leafs out and grow some sun-loving early-season perennials there. Try tulips and daffodils to brighten up the spot.

Before beginning any garden project, you should always test your soil's pH. The results will tell you which plants are suited to the site as well as guide you in amending the soil, if necessary. Test kits are widely available online and at local nurseries, and the Cornell Cooperative Extension will test your soil and make amendment recommendations for a nominal fee. (Call 516-228-0426 in Nassau; 631-727-7850 in Suffolk) for information.

Skimmia japonica is an under-used shrub that survives in shade and loves acid soil.

If your soil is on the acidic side, consider shrubs like Pieris (Andromeda), any of the Ilex species (hollies), and Rhododendrons and Azaleas. Skimmia japonica also loves shade and acid soil, and isn't used nearly as much as it should be. Kalmia latifolia (mountain laurel) would make a nice foundation planting. All of these are broadleaf evergreens.

For neutral soils, I love Hypericum 'Albury Purple' (St. Johnswort), which sports bright yellow flowers and red berries on a low-growing shrub with purple-tipped green leaves. It's indicated for sun to part shade, but I've had success with it in a mostly shady spot. I'm also fond of hydrangeas, which do very well in the shade.

Some varieties, such as the aptly named 'Endless Summer,' offer a full season of blooms. Abelia x grandiflora (glossy abelia) will serve you well, too. Boxwoods, both common and Japanese, will thrive, as will any of the yews and Prunus laurocerasus (cherry laurel).

If you're looking for annuals, you can't go wrong with impatiens or wax begonias. Coleus is a shade-loving foliage plant that's available in many different colors, and flowering tobacco (Nicotiana alata), which tolerates partial shade well, grows up to 4 feet tall and gives off a delicious jasmine scent.

As far as perennials go, you can't go wrong with Phlox divaricata (woodland phlox). Its blue, lavender or white blooms sit atop small green leaves in late spring, and it's a generous reseeder.

Heuchera (coral bells) blooms in summer with tall spikes of tube-like flowers rising above a mound of colorful foliage. Both perform well in partial shade, as do Echinacea Purpureas (purple coneflower), Aquilegias, Digitalis (foxglove), Astilbes, Campanulas, Lobelias and many lupines. Hellebores will flower in the winter, and Ajugas and ferns both have it made in the (deep) shade.

Technically a vine, Mandevilla often is grown in a large pot and allowed to climb on a trellis. It thrives outdoors in partial sun. For overwintering indoors, it should be brought inside in early autumn, when daytime temperatures dip into the 60s. In late spring, when temperatures consistently reach the 70s, Mandevillas can be moved outdoors for another season. But what to do in between?

You have two options: Allow the plant to go dormant, or try to keep it going over the winter.

To go the dormancy route, after moving the plant indoors in September, you should set it in a warm spot (68 to 70 degrees) in indirect sunlight and keep the soil consistently moist. It's normal for Mandevilla to drop leaves in October or November, so don't panic when that happens. That's the time to prune it and to move it into a cool (50-60 degree) spot. Over the winter, water only when the soil completely dries out.

In late winter or very early spring (now), move the plant back into the main part of the house near a window that offers indirect light. Pick up the watering again and apply a balanced fertilizer (10-10-10 or 20-20-20) monthly until fall. The plant will leaf out soon.

If you choose to keep it as an active houseplant over the winter, it will survive, but don't expect it to be pretty: It probably will lose some leaves and it won't bloom much.

In either case, move it back outdoors gradually around Memorial Day, beginning with a half-hour a day and working up to 8 hours over the course of 10 days or so.

This little book by Barbara W. Ellis seems to have a Napoleon complex - tiny in size with such a boastful title - so I was skeptical of its claims.

The guide opens with a Q&A section that addresses soil, general crop care and organic pest and disease control. Then, from artichokes to zucchini, details on sowing, caring for, watering, harvesting and troubleshooting problems are provided.

In the end, Ellis' self-assured claims passed my test: Her book answered the one question whose answer has eluded me (and lots of my gardening colleagues) for a long time. A healthy-looking tomato that is rotted inside, I've learned, is suffering from blossom end rot, even though its end isn't rotted. Who knew?

Happy spring, everybody! I always feel like a Peanut on the vernal equinox -- the first day of spring -- when the day and night are equally long. In fact, I'm so excited, I'm posting this 10 hours early. From tomorrow at 1:48 a.m. until the first day of summer -- June 21 -- the days will grow longer and longer.

I feel so blah from November through the winter. I find the darkness and the cold mentally and physically zapping. But thoughts of tulips and tomato plants and leaving the house without a jacket turn me into a blubbering idiot come March 20. At the risk of sending you all into diabetic shock with my uncharacteristic sappiness, I'm so happy it's spring I could dance like Snoopy!

When I was a kid, we marked the day by trying to stand eggs on their ends. I can't remember whether it worked, but I'm going to try tomorrow. I'll report back -- with photos if I'm successful.

If you haven't already, start seeds of annuals indoors, and plant cool-season crops like lettuce and spinich outdoors.

It's prime time to seed your lawn, too. if yours looks anything like mine -- trashed by a dog or otherwise sabotaged -- seed once a week and water twice a day until it fills in. But don't fertilize until Memorial Day.

There are some wacky gardening photos making their way around the web this month in forwarded emails. I'm sure many of you have seen them by now. The first time I received them, from a reader, I marveled, chuckled and decided against posting them on this blog, what with Newsday being a family newspaper and all. The second time I received this obviously widely circulated email, from a friend, it gave me pause.

Though I have no way of knowing whether the photos have been doctored, they are vegetables, which many of us grow in our own gardens. If a specimen such as those - uniquely and unmistakably shaped like unmentionable body parts, mostly -- would grow in our own vegetable patch, I don't think any of us would be offended. However, I wasn't able to obtain official permission to post them here.

For my own part, I can still be entertained by the photos readers have sent of their irregularly shaped fruits and veggies. They include this tomato, to which J.B. "couldn't resist adding a mouth and eye" ...

... the "Jimmy Durante schnozzola eggplant," grown by Jules Lewis of Coram, who took the liberty of adding a paper eye.

Here's a great resource for those of us who'd like to put our votes where the green is.

Grist.org has put together a chart that allows us to see at a glance where the current presidential contenders stand on climate and energy issues.

How important is climate, energy and the environment to you when you enter the polling booth?

Oxalis regnellii, University of Connecticut photo

Happy St. Patrick's Day, everyone. No, I'm not Irish, but I do enjoy my annual corned beef and cabbage dinner and playing pranks on my kids. This morning, I sneaked some jellybeans into Julia's sneakers and told her to watch out for the leprechaun poop in her shoes.

But alas, at age 10, she's becoming too sophisticated for me. Instead of laughter and excitement, these days all I get is a groan. "Oh, Mommmmmmmmm," as if I should feel lucky she tolerates me.

What's worse, I won't be feasting on the fatty spiced brisket I love so much. I've been dieting for about 6 weeks now, and I'm determined to lose another 5 pounds before heading to Florida next month.

But still, I can get into the holiday spirit with -- what else? -- a Shamrock plant. Yes, the mystical-yet-common 3-leaf clover, which St. Patrick used as a visual prop to explain the complexity of the Trinity to the Irish. Three parts, one leaf. Three beings, one God.

I don't really know why 4-leaf clovers are the ones that are considered lucky, aside from the fact that they're so rare you'd have to be extremely lucky to find one. I Googled them this morning and learned -- from several sources, including Yahoo Answers -- that there are approximately 10,000 three-leaf clovers for every four-leaf clover out there.

The word 'shamrock' comes from the Celtic 'seamrog', which means little clover. We don't really know what kind of little clover St. Patrick used, but we assume, perhaps incorrectly, it was black medic or common white or red clover.

But if you're in the market for a potted Shamrock plant, perhaps to commemorate the day, what you'll find labeled as such in nurseries and plant shops today is Oxalis regnellii.

Oxalis regnellii. which spreads by rhizome, sends up three-lobed leaves, comprised of 3 triangular leaflets, atop 6-inch-long petioles. It flowers profusely in spring, sending up inch-long white, 5-petaled trumpets.

It's not guaranteed to bring you luck. But, if nothing else, it'll remind you that spring is on the way.

Tomorrow is the Ides of March. All that means, really, is that it's the 15th of the month. In the ancient Roman calendar, the 15th of March, May, July and October were referred to as the ides, as were the 13th of the other months. Each ide indicated the halfway point of the lunar month in question, as idus means "divide" in Latin.

Superstition about the full moon was alive and well back in those days, probably more so than today, and so the ides were perceived as unlucky. The day truly did prove unlucky for one Julius Ceasar in the year 44 BC, when he was assassinated by a group of jealous senators that most famously included the trusted Brutus.

In the play named for the dictator, William Shakespaere wrote that Vestricius Spurinna, as astrologer, had warned Caesar of the impending doom, "Beware the ides of March." Whether it really happened that way is a matter of speculation.

For me, the ides of March is a happy day. It's the day before my father's birthday, two days before I indulge in soda bread, corned beef and cabbage, and just a week before spring officially begins. Crocuses are in full swing, and I can begin cleaning up the garden to prepare for the forthcoming onslaught of perennials.

Here's a short list of March Gardening Chores:

• Protect existing deciduous trees from insects by treating with horticultural oil after the danger of frost has passed. Don't wait too long, though. This should be done before buds open.

• Start seeds indoors in a soil-less growing medium.

• Prune trees and shrubs.

• Apply a 5-10-5 fertilizer to spring-flowering bulbs as soon as they poke out of the ground.

• Cut back ornamental grasses and last year's perennials, if you haven't already.

• Thin brambles (raspberries, blackberries, etc.)

• Planning on adding new trees or shrubs to your landscape? Now's the time.

• Need to rearrange? Move shrubs now, while they're still dormant.

Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt (Gabriel Bouys, AFP / Getty Images)

Brangelina have made an offer to purchase a beautiful $20 million stone mansion in France and are planning to move there, according to unconfirmed reports circulating on the internet today.

The UK newspaper the Telegraph reported earlier this month that "a famous Hollywood couple and their nine assistants" had expressed interest in the home, named "Mas de la Chapelle St. Sixte," over the summer. When they first considered buying the 850-year-old, fully-renovated home nearly a year ago, the couple reportedly lost interest after failing to get approval to build a motorcycle track in the rolling five-acre garden. A motorcycle track in the rolling five-acre garden.

A motorcycle track in the rolling five-acre garden.

Let's let that settle in for a moment, shall we...

South America's Creepy Argentinian Gnome. left, bears a striking resemblance to the Travelocity gnome, which was similar to the one at the center of my own garden mystery.

I had forgotten about that incident, which I had assumed was a neighborhood hoax, until reading about the Creepy Gnome that's terrorizing a town in Argentina.

Several residents of General Gueme have reported seeing the creature stalking the streets at night, wearing a pointed hat and walking sideways like a crab, leaving the locals holed up in their homes for fear of coming face to face with it, the UK newspaper The Sun has reported.

A few local teenagers hanging out at night caught images of the monster on a cell phone camera. Check it out:

If you ask me, my gnome story is more interesting -- and more credible.

Daniel Siebert, an amateur botanist, with Salvia divinorum. (AP Photo)

You know that beautiful Salvia plant you had growing in your garden last summer? The fragrant, purple one? It's gaining a heck of a reputation. Lawmakers in Florida and elsewhere are hip to the fact that teenagers -- among others, I'm sure -- have discovered the hallucinogenic properties of its cousin, Salvia divinorum. And you know what they say about judging a man by his friends.

I can't imagine how kids stumbled upon this, but Salvia divinorum can produce an hour-long high more potent than marijuana's when smoked, eaten or brewed into a tea. And it's currently legal, which means it can be easily obtained by anyone, unlike Sudafed or Claritin-D, for which I have to produce a driver's license and sign my name to a federal government log in order to purchase at CVS.

Online, an ounce of Salvia leaves can be had for $30; liquid extract sells for $12-$70, depending on the size of the bottle and its potency. Long-term health effects aren't clear, but its use was cited in a 17-year-old Delaware boy's suicide in 2006.

The plant, native to Mexico, has been used for centuries in indigenous healing rituals. Now, lawmakers in eight states have put restrictions on it, and Florida is considering making it illegal.

It sounds ridiculous to outlaw a plant, but the dilemma is a big one: People get the impression that whatever is legal is safe. Kids especially. And therein lies the problem: It could be dangerous.

The plants in our herb and perennial gardens are guilty only by association, as there haven't been any hallucinogenic properties or abuses reported about them.

• Salvia officinalis, also known as sage, is a fixture in many suburban gardens. The perennial prefers full sun but can tolerate light shade.

• Salvia elegans, or Pineapple sage, is a tender perennial, which means it's grown as an annual here on Long Island. It, too, prefers full sun, and its pineapple-scented leaves and flowers are edible.

• Salvia officinalis 'Berggarten', Berggarten sage, is a sun-loving perennial.

• Salvia officinalis 'Nana', Dwarf sage, is a perennial that prefers full sun.

They all make an eye-catching, deliciously scented addition to the herb or perennial garden.
You can't smoke them, but why would you want to?

The rose was made the State flower of New York in 1955. No particular rose, mind you. Wild or cultivated, pink, yellow, red or white, bushy or climbing, fragrant or not -- any rose and every rose is New York's emblem. Maybe no one could decide. I know I'd be hard-pressed to pick just one, as there are more than 150 different species and some 20,000 hybrids out there.

As far as colors go, each shade symbolizes a different sentiment. Red is the color of passion, love and romance; pink, affection. White roses, which symbolize purity and innocence, are typically fixtures at weddings, while yellow connotes friendship.

Last year, famed rosarian and author Stephen Scanniello visited the Garden Detective blog and shared instructions for winterizing roses.

Scanniello will join us again as guest blogger in a week or so to give us a primer on pruning all types of roses. Stay tuned.

With the temperature hovering around 50 degrees today, I was hoping it would hold up all weekend so I could get out into the garden and prune my shrubs, cut down last year's perennials, ornamental grasses and butterfly bush, and clean out the debris that always magically appears in my beds despite having been cleaned out in late fall. Where did all those leaves come from? They were all raked and bagged when the trees were bare. It happens every year, and I'll never understand it.

Unfortunately, thunderstorms predicted for tomorrow are putting a kink in my plans. Sunday should be clear, but I have 2 problems with Sunday: For one, it'll be about 10 degrees cooler than tomorrow. I was looking forward to actually enjoying toiling in the garden. If it's in the low 40s and I'm cold, I'll be miserable, so I won't do it.

Secondly, I'll be manning the soil testing counter at the Hicks Flower and Garden Show in Westbury until 1 p.m. Sunday. Wet soil can't be tested, so if you plan on coming in, please go outside and dig up your sample now. Be sure to dig down at least 4 inches for an accurate reading.

When I get home, for all my good intentions, I'm more likely to watch "The Crow" or "V for Vendetta," which just came in from Netflix, with my daughter Justine than I am to start digging around on a gray late winter afternoon. I'm dedicated, but I do need some downtime, even if it's just a couple hours a week spent lazying on the couch.

Next week will be better. Once the clocks are adjusted Sunday morning (actually, I find Saturday night preferable) I'll come home from work and the blaring sunlight will make me feel as if I have the whole day ahead of me. Though we're setting the clocks ahead, essentially losing an hour, my glass is half full: I gain an extra hour between 5:30 and 6:30 p.m.

When I get home from work, I run out there and water, pull weeds, move plants around and walk across the street to see how things look from there. After about an hour or so, I feed the masses and bond with the family.

How will you spend your extra hour of daylight?

Three of my favorite member-submitted designs from the first Onusgear.com contest, from left: "Galaxy," "Flower Power," and "Chinese Lantern Trees"

I just got off the phone with Greg Burrington, a nice guy from Ohio who recently started a new environmentally conscious website. As a gardener and a citizen of our planet, his concerns are close to my heart. He put the onus on me to spread the word about his endeavor.

"We were inspired by the fact that Americans use about 500 billion plastic bags a year," he said, explaining that when he heard the statistics, he worked to "come up with a fun way to reduce that number."

That fun way turned out to be Onusgear.com, a member-based effort to promote the use of canvas shopping bags to reduce our footprints on landfills, and in turn, the earth.

Visitors have to register (membership is free) to submit original designs to the website. Each month, three designs are chosen by member-submitted votes and printed on canvas bags, which then are sold on the site for $21 apiece. Winners get 2 free bags bearing their designs and initials, plus -- depending on the strength of sales for their bags -- anywhere from $50 to $500.

The first monthly contest is underway, so here's a chance to be on Onusgear's inaugural bags.

Here are some exceptions to the pruning recommendations I posted Wednesday.

For spring bloomers like lilacs, it's best to wait until after their flowers fall. It's fine to prune now, but you'll be removing flower buds and have fewer blossoms this year. It's up to you.

Forsythia and privet should be pruned every year. Spirea and weigela should be pruned every two to three years.

Clethra and cotoneasters should seldom be pruned.

Butterfly bush (Buddleia) should never be pruned in fall or it will die. Instead, cut it all the way to the ground every year in early spring.

Only deadhead rhododendrons and mountain laurels if they aren't full enough, and do it immediately after flowering. Waiting even a week will defeat the process and you'll still end up with leggy plants.

Here's are the photos I promised you. If you can get to Hicks Nurseries in Westbury (100 Jericho Tpke.), this year's show is worth a visit. It runs through March 9.

Wine and Roses

Roses are everywhere in this garden. You’ll see new and old varieties of carpet and knockout roses, some of our most popular and carefree roses. This garden features a sophisticated array of burgundy, pink and silver flowers and foliage. Annuals and perennials will be chosen from plant series named Merlot, Chardonnay and Symphony. Enjoy the song “The Days of Wine and Roses” while taking in this garden.

Rock and Roll Garden

This multi colored garden will feature plants with names relating to rock and roll including Jethro Tull Coreopsis, Stairway to Heaven Polemonium, Kaleidoscope Abelia, Rosa Yellow Submarine and Salvia Purple Rain. Special lighting effects will help create the mood of the seventies and eighties.

Jack and Jill Garden

The children’s garden contains plants that are named after people. Large alphabet letters will set off the garden theme and children’s music will welcome the youngsters. Activity sheets will be available for children to seek and find all the names that they can. They may even find their own name on a plant they would like to try and grow in their own garden.

Rhapsody of Color

This is the classical music garden, featuring plants with names like Anemone ‘Serenade,’ Snapdragon ‘Madame Butterfly,’ Osteospermum Vanilla Symphony, Syringa Minuet and Symphony and Harmony series of impatiens and pansies. Enjoy the patio and seating area where you can relax and admire the garden or have your picture taken, while listening to light classical music.

Country Hoe Down

Grab your partner and do-se-do to the vegetable garden, built around a barn-like structure. We’re showcasing vegetables that include juicy red tomatoes and plump green peppers as well as herbs and plants such as Heliotrope “Iowa,” Cersis Canadensis ‘Oklahoma,’ and Quince ‘Texas Scarlet.’ The sounds of country music will complete the down-home, welcoming feeling here.

Tropical Heat Wave

This garden showcases the trend towards using tropical flowers in northeastern gardens. Every year, more and more of our growers are developing cold tolerant plants that help you create your own personal paradise in your yard. Hot, fiery colors will be shown here from series of flowers in groupings named Samba, Tango and the like. This will bring you a nice taste of summer in the cold of winter.

If you have photos from the show, send them to me and I'll add them.

UPDATE 3/8/08 10 AM:

Thanks to reader Christine for sending this cute shot: "Anna, mom and dad are enjoying a beautiful day at Hicks Nursery. Our beautiful Anna has transformed herself into a beautiful butterfly."

We don't hear very much about the heath pea these days, but back in King Charles II's time, it was a popular appetite suppressant.

Otherwise known as bitter vetch, heath pea (Lathyrus linifolius) was a necessity in Medieval times. Appetite suppressants weren't usually used for vanity's sake. Instead, they were a necessary evil, used to avoid hunger during years when crops failed. Eating the plant's tiny licorice-flavored tuber is said to have destroyed the appetite for weeks. Apparently, once potatoes took off, everyone's belly was kept full so the plant wasn't needed any more.

Charles II, however, reportedly was known for liking his women slim, even during the one time in history when full-figured women were in fashion. So he fed heath pea to his mistresses. Nice guy. I wonder what HIS waistline looked like.

Fast forward to our century, and obesity really is a problem. Today, London's Daily Mail is reporting that British researchers are studying the plant for possible use in an anti-obesity drug.

A very low-maintenance plant, the perennial can even be highly invasive in zones 7-9. It can tolerate sun or shade, and blooms with delicate purple flowers from mid-spring until late summer.

However, all parts of the plant are listed as toxic, and while they're great for naturalizing in a shady spot, I wouldn't recommend eating the tubers until more research is done. Those Medieval folks didn't live very long, did they?

We all could use a taste of spring right about now. And a reader from Port Washington has come to the rescue, forcing me to launch the 2nd annual spring blossom watch early this year.

He found this beautiful unexpected crocus while shoveling snow, and was kind enough to send me this photo. He also was the first to report a crocus last year, and under the same circumstances. It seems he has his own special microclimate going on.

Be on the lookout for the first signs of spring in your gardens and neighborhoods, and upload your photos at newsday.com/springblooms.

Caring for hydrangeas can seem a bit daunting because different species require different maintenance. If you mistake one type for another, you'll end up with a blossom-less season, or worse. It's really not that bad, as long as you keep the plant tag that came with the plant and use the handy guide I've prepared for you:

Hydrangea macrophylla: Prune in late summer, as soon as the flowers fade, but never after September. Remove weaker stems from the base of the plant, being careful to retain several stems of old wood, which will produce buds for next year's flowers. You can prune now, too, but it will cost you flowers this year.

Hydrangea arborescens 'Grandiflora': Cut to the ground in late winter/early spring. If it survived the winter nicely, however, and you'd like it to grow better, do a light selective pruning, cutting branches at varying heights.

Hydrangea paniculata 'Grandiflora' (Peegee): Simply remove spent flowers and thin or cut back last year's growth in late winter/early spring.

Hydrangea quercifolia (oakleaf hydrangea): Remove dead wood at the base of the plant in early spring.

Hydrangea anomala petiolaris (climbing hydrangea): Unruly vines can be shortened in summer. Otherwise, pruning is seldom necessary.

That wasn't so bad, was it?

Mid-February to mid-April is the ideal time for pruning most woody plants, both because they're dormant and because you can better see what you're doing when your view isn't obstructed by leaves. It's also the period of most rapid plant healing, called compartmentalization.

If you're unable to prune now, wait until July, which is the next-best time to prune. (For the record, late spring is the absolute worst time to prune. Removing new spring growth at a time when the plant is vulnerable means it won't be able to compensate adequately. Also, photosynthesis is beginning, and the plant is at its weakest.)

I was fortunate to learn about pruning, defined as the selective removal of plant parts for a purpose, from Richard Weir III. For the unindoctrinated, Weir was the program manager for horticultural and environmental issues for the Cornell Cooperative Extension of Nassau County. He's also a pruning expert and co-author of "Pruning: An Illustrated Guide to Pruning Ornamental Trees and Shrubs."