The Conversational Gardener

By Nanny Fontanella

With malus toward none

A car, driving in front of one of those hostile tailgaters was crammed with people. When it was headlight to taillight, the rip-off driver stopped dead and was back ended, and the occupants all claimed injury. Ah, for once malice gets it just desserts.

In the case of malus, commonly known as the apple, we all look forward to dessert. Apple trees are ubiquitous in the Catskills and Upper Delaware valley; every old house has at least one. They grow in high-water tables, where the ground is dry, though most old timers don’t produce. If they do, their apples are small and bland (except the ones that grow south of my septic tank).

	Contributed graphic "Will I get fruit? We will see!"

If you’re planning to grow a new apple tree it may need a pollinator, so with malus aforethought, order accordingly. Some varieties of peaches produce tons of fruit in our area and are self-pollinating. I have several happy nectarine trees. Both regular and oriental pears flourish here; they are disease resistant and generally self-pollinating.

The apricot is another kettle of compote. Apricot trees don’t do too well for me, especially dwarfs. They grow nicely for about six or seven years, then a mucho cold winter hits and bingo, a funeral is in order.

This has happened twice, and I was told it was the wind, so several aspiring apricots are now growing against a protected hillside and they survived last winter’s extreme weather. But will I get fruit? We’ll see!

Plums may be self-pollinating, but generally sweet cherries need a friend, and if you want to fool the birds, plant yellow cherries. Otherwise, you won’t get any. Plums and cherries are not too fond of the area because there’s a fungus among us: compacted clay soil, which promotes the fungoes, which results in black, shriveled fruit.

Even when the tree is dormant, it’s possible to spot a fungus at work. Signs include cracked trunks and soft wood. Planting on a slope helps, and so does not planting strawberries under trees (like I do) because they have superficial roots often injured by cultivation.

Jerry Baker uses an intriguing recipe to attack the fungoes; he mixes black strap molasses, non-fat dry milk and baking soda, dilutes it and then sprays the trees.

Planting a tree involves digging a hole, one of my favorite garden pastimes. I’m always sure buried treasure is in the next shovelful (no kidding). There are two major hole schools: the “five dollar hole for a fifty cent tree” school and the “whatever doesn’t kill it makes it stronger” school, which is convinced that a hole too large promotes overgrowth of roots which, when having reached the end of their nice hole may decide to stop growing altogether.

I’m a middle-of-the-road hole-maker, putting a five-dollar tree in a hole that’s only as big as my back is strong. Jerry Baker says his grandma told him to put ordinary soil in an ordinary hole and to line the cavity with potatoes and epson salts (seems like feeding mice to a pet snake with a bad back, but it works).

If you have any questions, suggestions or comments, “ask Nanny” at asknanny@riverreporter.com.