It’s time to look back on 2022. But before we do that, I have to acknowledge that January 2023 marks Awkward Botany’s 10 year anniversary. This time ten years ago, I was drafting the introductory post to this blog. Obviously, a lot has happened since then, yet it still seems like yesterday somehow. And while I may not be posting with the frequency that I once was, I’m still at it, and I don’t plan on stopping any time soon. There is so much we have yet to cover. I feel like we’ve barely scratched the surface of what the world of plants has to offer. If you’d like to look back on what I’ve written about over the years, these Year in Review posts are a good place to start, which I’ve been posting each year since Awkward Botany turned one. Looking forward, expect more of the same, which if you’re into plants as much as me, should be enough to keep your attention. If you’re not into plants, I’m not sure why you’re here, but since you are, I hope that what I share might change your mind. Either way, here’s to another 10 years!
Awkward Botany Turns 10!
Perhaps the most eventful thing that happened in 2022, as far as the blog goes, was my appearance on Outdoor Idaho where I got to sing the praises of weeds and the role they play as members of our wild flora. You can expect the weeds talk to continue, especially since Western Society of Weed Science’s Annual Meeting is coming to Boise later this winter. Perhaps I’ll see you there! Oh, and speaking of annual meetings, Botany is coming to Boise this summer, so please feel free to say hello if you’re coming to town.
As per usual, I have a head full of ideas and plans for the upcoming year, and I am hopeful that it will be one of the best yet. But I will spare you from having to trudge through that whirlwind, and instead I’ll just say thank you for being here. Thanks for your comments, shares, follows, and the other ways you show your support. If you’d like to continue doing so, by all means, please do. If you’re new here and you’d like to start, all relevant links are in the link tree below. Happy 2023 everyone!
I spend a lot time on this blog putting weeds in the spotlight, celebrating them for their successes and the unique and interesting plants they are. It’s rare that I get to share these sentiments outside of this particular venue, but I was given such an opportunity recently when asked to talk about weeds for an episode of Outdoor Idaho, a long running show on Idaho Public Television that covers Idaho’s natural history. The theme of this particular episode is wildflowers, so I was intrigued by the idea of coming on to discuss urban weeds. For many, the term “wildflowers” may invoke native plants blooming in natural areas in places far removed from the hustle and bustle of the city. But a wildflower doesn’t have to be a native plant, nor does it have to be growing in the wild. Any plant occurring naturally on its own without the assistance of humans can be a wildflower, and that includes our wild urban flora. I appreciated the chance to share this particular thought with the viewers of Outdoor Idaho.
Along with me waxing on about weeds, the Wildflowers episode features a host of other Idahoans sharing their thoughts, expertise, and experiences with wildflowers. The episode is brief – coming in at under 30 minutes – but the producers packed in a ton of great wildflower content, and overall I found it to be an excellent representation of the flora of Idaho and a convincing argument for why we should appreciate and elevate these plants. The flora of any region is special and important in its own right, and Idaho’s flora is no different, including its weeds.
Check out Outdoor Idaho’s Wildfowers episode here.
In other news…
If you want to see more of me on the screen (and I’m not sure why you would), Sierra (a.k.a. Idaho Plant Doctor) and I are doing monthly Q&A videos in which we answer your questions about plants, gardening, pests and diseases, insects, or any other topic you might be curious about. You can tune in to those discussions on Sierra’s instagram. If you have questions of your own that you would like us to address, please leave them in the comments section below, or send them to me via the contact page or my instagram.
A weed is a highly successful plant that shares a close relationship with humans. In many instances, weeds are seen as nuisance plants, interfering with the goals and intentions we have for a piece of land. In natural areas, they are blamed for, among other things, threatening the existence of the native flora, despite the fact that human activity and disturbance brought them there in the first place and continued human disturbance helps keep them there. In some instances, such as a vacant lot in an urban area, they pose no threat and their existence causes little if any harm, yet they are disparaged for being unsightly, hazardous, and out of place. Nevermind the fact that they are offering a number of ecosystem services free of charge.
For all these reasons and more, weeds get called some pretty nasty things and are the recipient of an unduly amount of ire. The extent that some of us will go to vilify a plant is a bit disturbing to me, so it’s always refreshing to come across a more reasonable approach to weeds. That tempered take is what I found in Gareth Richards’ book, Weeds: The Beauty and Uses of 50 Vagabond Plants, a production of the Royal Horticultural Society and whose vast archives were used to beautifully illustrate the book.
There seems to be a growing trend in the U.K. and other parts of Europe to be more accepting of weeds, to see them as part of our urban, suburban, and exurban flora, and to focus on the value they may bring rather than constantly reviling them as interlopers and thus trying to blast them out of existence with chemical warfare. (See also Wild About Weeds by Jack Wallington). I hope this is true, and I hope the trend continues and catches on in other parts of the world. As Richards writes, “Often the only crime a plant has committed is growing too well.” Thankfully, books like this help bring awareness to these highly fecund and robust plants and their many redeeming qualities.
Richards’ book starts out with a brief introduction and then proceeds with short profiles of 50+ different plant species that are commonly considered weeds. The focus of the book is on weeds found in the U.K.; however, weeds being what they are, at least a few (if not most) of the plants covered are bound to be growing near you regardless of where you live in the world. While there is some discussion of the invasive nature of a few of the plants profiled and the illegality of growing or transporting them – see Japanese knotweed, Himalayan balsam, and pontic rhododendron for example – the focus is not on management nor control. Instead, the discussion revolves around interesting aspects of the plants that makes them worth getting to know rather than something to simply eliminate.
As is often the case when discussing specific plants, medicinal uses and edibility feature heavily in Richards’ plant profiles. It’s interesting to learn about the many ways that humans have thought about and used plants historically, and some of the ways they were historically used are certainly still relevant today; however, many medicinal claims don’t stand the test of time nor do they have empirical evidence to back them up. For this reason, I generally take medicinal uses of plants with a grain of a salt and a healthy dose of skepticism. Edibility, on the other hand, has always been interesting to me, and just when I thought I had heard all the ways that dandelions can be eaten, Richards introduces me to another: “You can even harvest the flower buds for pickling; they make a useful homegrown caper substitute.”
What follows are a few excerpts from the book with accompanying photos of the plants in question.
Regardless of how you feel about weeds, if you’re interested in plants at all, this book is worth getting your hands on and these plants are worth getting to know. They may not be the plants you prefer to see growing on your property, but they have interesting stories to tell and, in many cases, may not be as big of a problem as you originally thought. In discussing Spanish bluebells (Hyacinthoides hispanica) and its weedy relatives, Richards hits on a point that for me is one of the main takeaways of this book: “In an age where gardens are becoming wilder and the countryside ever more fragmented, and nature is on the march due to climate change, perhaps we should just learn to treasure the wild plants that thrive in the the new conditions we have made – wherever they originally came from.”
Last year at this time I was newly married in a new home that Sierra and I had just bought together. The year flew by, as they often do, and we’re back around to another Year in Review. Home ownership (among other things) has kept us busy. If you follow this blog, you may have noticed that posts were a bit more sparse than usual. That probably won’t change much going forward, but even if takes me some time to get around to posting, I plan to keep this blog going for the foreseeable future. There are still so many plants to investigate and botanical topics to explore. I hope you will follow along, even when posts are few and far between.
The big news of the day is that Sierra and I recently added a new member to our family. Not a human, but a dog. Her name is Kōura, and I would expect her to make an appearance from time to time both here on the blog as well as on our various social media accounts. We are excited for the many adventures we’ll be having with her in the months and years to come, and can’t wait to introduce her to the world.
As Awkward Botany enters its tenth year, I feel incredibly grateful for everyone who has supported it along the way. To everyone who has bothered to read a post, leave a comment, share the blog with a friend, and reach out to me by various means, I appreciate you all for participating in my silly, little, plant project. Plant people are the best. Luckily, supporting Awkward Botany is easy. Apart from reading and commenting on the blog, there are social media accounts to follow, monetary donations to make (no pressure), and books to buy from our Bookshop. All relevant links can be found on Awkward Botany’s linktree (link below). Let’s stay phytocurious in 2022!
In part one and part two of this series, I introduced you to at least 23 plant-themed and plant-related podcasts. But wait, there’s more. As podcasts continue to be such a popular medium for entertainment and education, plant podcasts proliferate. You won’t see me complaining. I’m always happy to check out more botanical content. What follows are mini-reviews of a few more of the plant shows I’ve been listening to lately.
Plants Grow Here – Based in Australia, this is a horticulture and gardening podcast hosted by Daniel Fuller (and the occasional guest host). What separates it from other horticulture-related podcasts is the heavy focus on ecology and conservation. As Daniel says in the introductory episode, “there’s no point in talking about plants at any length without acknowledging that they exist within a wider web.” Daniel interviews plant experts, professionals, and enthusiasts from various parts of the globe, and while much of the focus is on horticulture topics, specifically related to gardening in Australia, there are several episodes that focus solely on the plants themselves and their place in the natural world.
Completely Arbortrary – Relatively new to the scene but an instant classic. Completely Arbortrary is hosted by Casey Clapp, a tree expert, and Alex Crowson, a tree agnostic. In each episode, Casey introduces Alex to a new tree species. After learning all about the tree, they each give it a rating (from zero to ten Golden Cones of Honor!). Sometimes the ratings will surprise you (Alex gave Bradford pear 9.1 Golden Cones of Honor). As the show has gone on, additional segments have been introduced, like Trick or Tree and listener questions. This is easily one of the best plant podcasts around, not just because you’ll learn something about trees (and who doesn’t love trees?), but because you will have a delightful time doing so with a couple of the friendliest and goofiest podcast hosts around.
Naturistic– In the same vein as Completely Arbortrary, Naturistic features host, Nash Turley, telling his co-host friend, Hamilton Boyce, about a natural history topic. At the time of this posting, there are only a handful of episodes available, and not all are plant-focused (most are about animals), but I assume more plant ones are in the works. Either way, each episode is well worth a listen. The topics are well-researched and presented in an amiable and approachable manner. There are also some nicely done videos that accompany some of the episodes.
Flora and Friends – A plant podcast based in Sweden and hosted by Judith, who is also a member of The Plant Book Club. Generally, Judith spends a few episodes with several guests diving deep into a single plant, group of plants, or plant-related topic. So far, there are series of episodes about nasturtiums, Pelargonium, Fritillaria, and forests. Sometimes the episodes are in Swedish, and when that’s the case, Judith refers listeners to a summary in English on the podcast’s website. Each episode is a casual and pleasant chat – or in other words a “botanical tea break” – about the topic at hand, which explains why Judith refers to the podcast as “your botanical cup of tea.”
Field, Lab, Earth – “A podcast all about past and present advances in the fields of agronomy, crop, soil, and environmental sciences.” Produced by a group of three professional societies – American Society of Agronomy, Crop Science Society of America, and Soil Science Society of America – and hosted by Abby Morrison. In each episode, Abby talks with a guest or guests about a research topic, often having to do with agriculture, but sometimes having to do with other aspects of plant and soil science. Listeners get behind the scenes information about how the research was conducted, as well as in depth discussions on the findings. You don’t necessarily need a background in plant and soil science to listen, as many of the basic concepts are well-explained along the way. Also, if you’re a Certified Crop Adviser or Certified Professional Soil Scientist, you can earn Continuing Education Credits by listening to each episode and taking a quiz. Major Bonus!
Backyard Ecology – An urban ecology podcast hosted by Shannon Trimboli. Nature isn’t just some far off place, it’s right outside our doors as well. With a little effort, we can make our yards and other urban spaces more biodiverse and create quality habitat for all sorts of wildlife. Plants are the foundation of our urban habitats, as is the case practically anywhere else, so even when episodes of this podcast are focused on animals, you can be sure that plants are at the heart of the conversation. Join Shannon as she, through conversations with other experts and nature enthusiasts, “ignites our curiosity and natural wonder, explores our yards and communities, and improves our local pollinator and wildlife habitat”
Talking Biotech – This is a long-running podcast hosted by Dr. Kevin Folta that aims to help people better understand the science behind genetic engineering. Folta’s university research supports plant breeding efforts, and many of the episodes of his podcast focus on plant breeding using both traditional methods and genetic engineering. A variety of other aspects and uses of biotechnology are also explored on the podcast. Folta has a passion for science communication and is adamant about debunking misinformation and sharing with the world the promise that new technologies offer us in our efforts to feed the world, improve human health, and address environmental threats. Even if you’re not generally interested in plant breeding, the discussions about the plants and the research is always very interesting and thought-provoking.
War Against Weeds – There is so much more to plants than meets the eye, and what group of plants demonstrates this better than weeds? They are our constant companions, and they are continually outwitting us. Their “craftiness” is one of the reasons I find them so intriguing. Controlling weeds is a constant battle, and few know that battle better than those who work in agriculture. After all, their livelihoods depend on it. War Against Weeds is hosted by three weed scientists whose job it is to help farmers successfully manage weeds. Each episode is a peek into what it takes to do the job. The war may never be won, and the strategies must be diverse – hence the podcast’s tagline, “silver bullets are for werewolves” – and so the conversation will continue. Luckily, we get to listen in.
Arthro-Pod – Just as the name implies, this is an entomology podcast. Insects and plants share an intimate relationship, so I consider this enough of a plant-related podcast to be included here. Plus I really like it. It came to me highly recommended by Idaho Plant Doctor, who is also really into plants and bugs. Hosted by three professional entomologists that all work in extension, Arthro-Pod is a bit like War Against Weeds, but is geared more towards the layperson than the professional. The hosts are humorous and clearly love what they do, which is why, apart from the fascinating discussions about insects, this is such a delight to listen to.
Chances are there will be a part four to this series. If you’re aware of a plant podcast that I haven’t covered yet, please let me know in the comment section below or by sending me a message via the Contact page.
Erigeron is a genus of herbaceous, flowering plants consisting of between 390 and 460 species and is a member of the aster/sunflower family (Asteraceae). Plants in this genus are annuals, biennials, or perennials and are mainly found in temperate regions around the world. At least 163 species occur in the contiguous United States. Erigeron diversity is particularly high in western states; however, each state is home to at least one Erigeron species.
A common name for plants in this genus is fleabane. This name comes from an outdated belief that the plants can be used to repel or poison fleas, flies, gnats, and other tiny insects, a belief for which there is no evidence. In Ancient Greek, the name Erigeron is said to mean something akin to “old man in the early morning,” likely referring to the appearance of the seed heads which look like little tufts of white hair. Some Erigeron species are also commonly referred to as daisies.
One species of Erigeron that I would like you to meet is Erigeron linearis. While most of the plants in this genus have flowers that are white, pink, or various shades of purple, E. linearis is a yellow-flowered species, hence the common name, desert yellow fleabane. Another common name for this plant is narrow leaved fleabane, a reference to its linear leaves. E. linearis is a small plant with a prominent taproot that reaches up to 20 centimeters tall and forms a leafy, rounded mat or cushion of whitish or gray-green, alternately arranged leaves. The white appearance is due to numerous, fine, appressed hairs on the leaves and stems. Flower stalks are produced in abundance in late spring through early summer and are mostly leafless. They reach above the mound of leaves and are each topped with at least one flower head, which nods at first, but then straightens out as the flowers open. Each flower head is about 2 centimeters wide and is typical of plants in the sunflower family, with a cluster of deep yellow disc florets in the center, surrounded by ray florets that are lighter in color. Both disc and ray florets are fertile; however, the disc florets have both “male” (stamens) and “female” (pistils) flower parts, while the ray florets have only “female” parts. The involucre, which sits at the base of the flowers, is egg-shaped or hemispheric and made up of a series of tiny, fuzzy bracts called phyllaries.
The fruit of Erigeron linearis is called a cypsela, an achene-like fruit that is characteristic of plants in the sunflower family. The fruits are miniscule and topped with a pappus composed of short outer bristles and longer, pale, inner bristles. The two types of pappus bristles (or double pappus) must be the reason for the scientific name this species was originally given in 1834, Diplopappus linearis. While the seeds of more than 80% of flowering plant species found in dryland regions exhibit some form of dormancy, a study published in Plant Biology (2019), found that E. linearis is one of the few species with non-dormant seeds. This means that for those of us interested in growing plants native to the Intermountain West, E. linearis is a pretty easy one to grow and is a great addition to water-wise gardens, pollinator gardens, and rock gardens.
Erigeron linearis is distributed across several western states and into Canada. It is found in northern California, eastern Oregon and Washington, southern British Columbia, across Idaho and east into southern Montana, western Wyoming and northwestern Utah. It is found at low to moderate elevations in open, rocky foothills, grasslands, sagebrush steppe, and juniper woodlands. It prefers well-drained soils and full sun. It is one of many interesting plants found on lithosols (also known as orthents), which are shallow, poorly develop soils consisting of partially weathered rock fragments. In the book Sagebrush Country, Ronald Taylor calls lithosols “the rock gardens of the sagebrush steppe,” and refers to E. linearis and other members of its genus as “some of the more colorful components of the lithosol gardens.” E. linearis is a food source for pronghorn, mule deer, and greater sage-grouse, and the flowers are visited by several species of bees and butterflies. The plant is also a larval host for sagebrush checkerspots.
Many of us who are plant obsessed didn’t connect with plants right away. It took time. There was a journey we had to go on that would ultimately bring us to the point where plants are now the main thing we think about. After all, plants aren’t the easiest things to relate to. Not immediately anyway. Some of us have to work up to it. Once there, it’s pretty much impossible to go back to our former lives. What was once just a background of green hues is now a rich cast of characters, each with their own name, unique features, and distinct story to tell. Essentially, we went through what Matt Candeias refers to as our ” green revolution.” Candeias – author and host of the long-running blog and podcast, InDefense of Plants– shares his story of learning to love plants and offers a convincing arguement for why you should love them too in his new book, aptly titled, In Defense of Plants.
It’s hard to picture Candeias as anything but a plant lover. If you’ve been following his work, you’ll know he makes it a point to put plants at center stage. It seems that much of the popular content available about plants focuses on the usefulness of plants as they pertain to humans. In many cases it can be easier to find out how to grow a certain plant species than to learn about where it’s from and what it’s like in the wild. Candeias let’s the plants speak for themselves by giving them a voice through his blog, podcast, and now his book. Through the stories he shares we get a peek into the way Candeias sees plants, with the hope being that others might also “be bitten by the botanical bug.”
One of the first plants that captured the attention of Candeias was perennial blue lupine (Lupinus perennis). While assisting with a habitat restoration project at a sand and gravel quarry, Candeias was tasked with improving the establishment of lupine, which is the host plant for the caterpillars of an endangered species of butterfly called Karner blue. The work he did at the quarry and the botanical research that went into it helped Candeias realize that plant’s aren’t at all boring, but are “incredibly interesting organisms worthy of respect and admiration” and that “plants can be both surprisingly relatable and incredibly alien all at once.” His “green revolution” had begun.
In each chapter of In Defense of Plants we get a peak into the experiences that brought Candeias to where he is now as he discovers the wonder of plants. His personal stories help introduce the main topic of each chapter. Topics include plant sex, plant dispersal, plant defenses, carnivorous plants, and parasitic plants. From countless possible examples, Candeias selects a few of his favorite plant species to help illustrate each topic. Along the way, the reader is presented with various other interesting plant-related facts as Candeias discusses the behaviors of some of the world’s most fascinating plants. In the chapter on dispersal, for example, unlikely agents of seed dispersal (like catfish!) are introduced, as well as phenomena like geocarpy, in which plants are essentially planting themselves.
Carnivorous plants provide an excellent gateway into convincing people who claim to have no interest plants that they actually do. It’s difficult to deny the impressive nature of a meat-eating plant. In the carnivorous plant chapter, Candeias introduces us to the various ways such plants capture and consume their prey, and even wonders if some of these plants should be considered omnivores. After all, certain butterworts digest pollen that falls onto their sticky leaves, and some bladderworts suck in plenty of algae and possibly gain nutrients from the act. If capturing insects inside leaves modified to look like pitchers or on leaves covered in digestive enzyme-producing glands doesn’t impress you, consider the carnivorous actions of corkscrew plants, which drill their leaves into the soil to go after soil-dwelling organisms like protozoans and worms.
Parasitic plants should also excite a reluctant plant lover. These are plants that take all or most of what they need to survive from another plant or host organism. Mistletoes are one of the more familiar parasitic plants, and Candeias describes several, including one that lives almost entirely within the stems of cacti. In fact, “you would never know a cactus had been infected until the mistletoe living within decides to flower,” at which point the flowers push their way out through the sides of the cactus. Dodder is another fairly common, highly specialized, and easy to identify parasitic plant. It basically looks like “a tangled pile of orange spaghetti tossed over the surrounding vegetation.” Orchids, a favorite of Candeias, are known for being mycoheterotrophs, which essentially means they parasitize fungi. Their seeds come unequipped with the energy stores needed to get going, so they borrow resources from mycorrhizal fungi in order to get their start. Years pass before the orchid can offer anything in return.
After spending more than 200 pages celebrating plants and their amazing abilities and diversity, it’s fitting that Candeias spends the final chapter of his book mourning some of the ways the actions of humans threaten the existence of so many plants. He remarks how unfortunate it is that “plants with their unseeing, unhearing, unfeeling ways of life usually occupy the lowest rung of importance in our society.” Many of us barely notice the loss, yet “plants are the foundation of functioning ecosystems.” Due to that fact, “destroying plant communities causes disastrous ripples that reverberate throughout the entire biosphere of our planet.” Everything suffers when plants are lost. Fortunately, the book doesn’t end on this dark note. Candeias’s overall message is hopeful. When we learn to understand, appreciate, and care about plants, we will want to do everything we can to protect and restore them. With any luck, after reading this book, you too will want to offer your time, energy, and resources in defense of plants.
Listen to Matt talk about his new book on this episode of his podcast.
When I first learned that Japanese knotweed was edible, I had my doubts. Sure, lots of plants may be edible, but are they really something you’d want to eat? I know Japanese knotweed as one of the most notorious weeds on the planet. Its destructive, relentless, and prolific nature has landed it on the world’s 100 worst invasive species list, right up there with black rats, Dutch elm disease, and killer algae. Having encountered a fair number of Japanese knotweed stands, the first thing to come to mind has never been, “that looks delicious.” Mature stalks stand as tall as 3 meters with broad, leathery leaves and hollow, bamboo-like stems. Their late summer flowers – a mess of tiny white florets on sprawling flower stalks – are a pollinator’s delight and favored by beekeepers for their abundant nectar. I don’t doubt that the honey produced from such an encounter is tasty, but the plant itself? I needed convincing.
Finally, I looked into it. I came across recipes of Japanese knotweed pickles and learned that it was the young, early emerging shoots that were sought after. That changed my perspective. Certainly you wouldn’t want to gnaw on a woody, 4 foot tall Japanese knotweed stalk, but the tender stems as they’re just beginning to re-emerge from the ground in the spring? Now those might be worth trying.
Japanese knotweed (Reynoutria japonica) was introduced to Europe from Japan in the 1800’s, arriving at Royal Botanic Gardens Kew by 1850. At that point, it was a prized ornamental. Its thick stems spotted with reds and purples, its broad, shiny leaves, and its showy flower heads all gave it garden appeal. It was also found to be useful for stabilizing hillsides and reducing erosion, honey production, and as a rhubarb substitute (it’s in the same plant family as rhubarb after all). Not long after that, it made its way to North America. Certainly people must have been aware of its propagative prowess as they moved the plant around. It readily roots from root and stem fragments, plus it produces extensive rhizomes, working their way as deep as 3 meters into the soil and as far as 7 meters away from the parent plant. Perhaps that should have been cause for alarm, but how could anyone have predicted just how aggressive and widespread it would soon become?
Thanks to the plant’s rhizomes, Japanese knotweed grows in thick, many-stemmed stands, pushing out, shading out, and leaving very little room for other plants. The rhizomes are also tough and can push up through gravel, cement, and asphalt. They are notorious for damaging foundations, pipes, and even pushing their way through floorboards. If that’s not enough, Japanese knotweed is pretty much impossible to kill. Herbicides may set it back, but they generally don’t take it out. Cutting it down repeatedly can slow it down, but it may also encourage it to grow more thickly and spread out more widely. Smothering it can work, but you have to be prepared to keep it smothered for quite a while. The deep rhizomes are slow to die, and they may eventually find their way outside of the smothered area, popping up to destroy your efforts to contain it. You can try to dig it out, but the amount of dirt you’d have to dig to get every last root and rhizome really isn’t feasible in most circumstances.
But hey, you can eat it, and perhaps you should. A quick internet search reveals a number of ways the plant can be consumed – purees, chutneys, compotes, sorbets. I chose to go with pickled Japanese knotweed. It seemed simple and approachable enough and a good way to determine if I was going to like it or not. Room temperature brine fermentation is pretty easy. You basically put whatever you’re wanting to pickle in a jar, add whatever spices and things you’d like, fill the jar with salty water, then seal it shut and let it sit there for a few days. Before you know it, you’ve got pickles.
There are several recipes for pickled Japanese knotweed to choose from. I went with this one. The seasonings I used were a bit different, and the stalks I had weren’t as “chubby” as recommended, but otherwise my approach was the same. After a few days, I gave them a try. I was pleasantly surprised. I thought they tasted a little like nopales. Sierra reluctantly tried them and was also surprised by how good they were. They reminded her of pickled asparagus. Other sources describe them as lemony, crunchy, tart and suggest serving them with fish, ramen, or even adding them to a cocktail made with purslane. Many of the weeds I’ve tried have been a fun experience, but not necessarily something I need to repeat. Japanese knotweed pickles, on the other hand, could become a spring tradition for me, and since we’re pretty much stuck with this plant, I’m sure to have a steady supply.
If you’re new to gardening, starting a garden can be quite intimidating. The learning curve can seem steep and the barriers to entry can feel vast. Having a beautiful, productive garden like those you might see around your neighborhood can seem like an unreachable goal. What isn’t obvious when encountering nice gardens are the mistakes made, the lessons learned, and the years of trial and error that brought the garden and gardener to where they are now. Even the most experienced gardeners continue to fail and learn from those failures, which is part of what makes gardening such an exciting pursuit. The looming question for beginners, though, is where do I start?
Luckily, resources abound for new gardeners – from countless books and magazines, to YouTube videos and podcasts, to university and college courses and degrees. Easily one of the best places to start if you live in the United States are extension services of land-grant colleges and universities. One of their main reasons for existence is to help people grow successful gardens. But while the dream of having a garden is exciting, the information one needs to absorb in order to get there can be overwhelming. Rote learning of basic instructions presented in a dry way can turn people off from wanting to proceed, which is why I find Joseph Tychonievich and Liz Anna Kozik’s recent book, The Comic Book Guide to Growing Food, so refreshing. Just about everything can be made more entertaining when presented in comic book form, and gardening tutorials are no exception.
As with most comic books, The Comic Book Guide to Growing Food tells a story. Mia is a computer programmer who lives next to George, an avid gardener. One day, Mia finds George having trouble sending photos to his grandchildren. Mia offers to help; George reluctantly accepts. In return, George gifts Mia a basket of spring greens and daffodils from his garden, which prompts Mia to share her dream of one day having a garden. George jumps at the opportunity to help, and thus begins a new friendship and yearlong mentorship as George helps Mia start her first garden.
George guides Mia along each step of the way – from choosing a location in her yard, to deciding what to plant and when, to helping her deal with pests and diseases, to knowing what and when to harvest, and to, finally, encouraging her to throw a garden party to share her bounty with friends. Much more is explained along the way, often with George starting the conversation with, “The #1 rule of gardening…”, and Mia cringing at yet another #1 rule to remember.
Planting too early can be deadly for frost sensitive plants. Don’t be fooled by fake spring.
The story is simple and easy to follow, and the information is basic but solid. There are greater details to explore, but for a beginning gardener, this book is an excellent starting point. The resource section at the end of the book will get the reader to those greater details when they’re ready. I found George’s harvesting guide particularly useful. As a gardener living in the semi-arid Intermountain West, I had to laugh when George claimed that some years he doesn’t water his garden at all. A vegetable garden in our climate typically wouldn’t survive long without regular, supplemental irrigation. However, if you live in a region that reliably receives rain in the summer, watering may be unnecessary. Thankfully, there is a “Cheat Sheet” included in the book with a great flowchart to help you determine if and when to water.
Joseph provided the text for this book and is a skilled garden communicator, something he’s been doing for much of his life. Without his words, this book would not be the stand-out resource that it is. However, it was Liz’s artwork that sold me on this book. Having followed her work on twitter for a while now, I was thrilled to learn she had a book out. Much like Joseph’s lessons in gardening, Liz’s artwork is simple and approachable, yet accurate enough to recognize exactly what plant is being represented even without the finer details found in the botanical illustrations of many field guides. This book is honestly worth having just to be able to hold in your hands a collection of Liz’s beautiful artwork.
This past year was certainly not the year that any of us hoped it would be. We all know why, so there’s no reason to get into it here. Point being, posts on Awkward Botany were a bit fewer and further between in 2020. My day job kept me busier than usual, and my motivation to do much else was pretty much zapped. Regardless, I’m still pleased with what I was able to put out into the world. I’m particularly excited about my new Weeds of Boise project, in which I attempt to catalog the wild urban flora of my hometown. Expect more of that in 2021.
Certainly the biggest news of 2020 is that Sierra (a.k.a. Idaho Plant Doctor) and I bought a house! We started looking in earnest late last summer and weren’t having much luck. Just as we were considering putting our dreams on hold for a bit, we came across a little house in a neighborhood we love. The house was perfect for us, with a big pollinator garden out front and a series of garden boxes in various locations around the property, along with a nice chicken coop (five chickens included!). It was a tiny urban farm looking for new owners, and we were the chosen ones! I like to think that we bought a garden, and it came with a house. This year will be a year of discovery as we watch the yard come to life and fulfill our dream of having a garden of our own. We will definitely keep you posted.
But that’s not all. On the 1st of January, Sierra and I got married in a tiny ceremony in our new backyard. We had planned on getting married in the fall of 2020, but the pandemic quickly put those plans to rest. Now, with a place of our own and a desire to put a tough year behind us, we started the new year off on a positive note. With a number of precautions in place, we were able to celebrate the start of our new lives together with some of our close friends and family. Despite it being the middle of winter, the weather was perfect for our little outdoor gathering. The love and generosity we were shown from so many people that weekend is something we will never forget.
two nerds getting married
What follows are the usual items found in a Year in Review post – ways you can follow Awkward Botany on social media, links to donate monetarily to Awkward Botany (no pressure), and posts from 2020 that are part of new and ongoing series of posts. New in 2021 is the Awkward Botany Bookshop. Bookshop is a site that makes it possible to purchase books online and support local bookstores in the process. When you buy books through Awkward Botany’s page, we receive a small percentage of the sale, which helps us continue to put out more of the plant nerdy content you’ve come to expect. There is a small selection of books in the store now, and I’ll continue to add more, so check back often. If there are books you’d like me to add to the store, please let me know.