Hope reigns, America. No longer must we suffer the indignity and injustice of watching stinking squirrels slug down precious bird seed day-after-day while our little, winged tweeters starve. We have an answer -- one that doesn't require a greased pole, sliding pole, fall-away perches, or tipping domes. It'll work with the cheapest feeder you have.

Red Hots! Get Your Red Hots!

The idea is brilliant in its simplicity. Don't waste time and money keeping squirrels away from the feeder. Instead, give them seed they'll only eat once! Now, thanks to the fine people at Cole's, we have just the seed we need!

Cole's just sent me two bags of bird seed -- Cole's Hot Meats and Cole's Blazing Hot Blend. The first consists solely of sunflower meats, while the second is a blend of sunflower meats, black oil seed, millet, and cracked corn. What do these two products have in common? They're infused with habanero pepper oil. I can see little flames licking the bags right now!

I know what you're thinking. Won't habanero-infused seed burn the little birdies? The answer is no. For some strange, but marvelous reason, birds don't react to pepper at all. They can eat all the blazing hot seed they want without ever breaking a sweat (which is good, since they can't sweat, but you know what I mean). Squirrels, on the other hand, have sensitive lips, delicate tongues, and discriminating palates. They know when they've just swallowed fire.

Boy, is this going to be an exciting Thanksgiving at Grumpy's house for people and creatures one and all! First, we'll toast the holiday. Next, we'll toast the squirrels.

I'll fill that feeder with so much Hot Meats those little vermin will think they're the Pilgrims about to sit down with the Wampanoags. After all, that first Thanksgiving dinner was surprisingly spicy and I wouldn't want to break with tradition. Each squirrel will get a mouthful of seed and immediately combust. I'll bask in justification. As Pink Floyd sang in "Time," "it's good to warm my bones beside the fire."

Cole's products are sold in lots of pet stores, garden centers, and other places. Go to their website and locate a retailer near you. Trust me, using this stuff will be the most fun you've had since watching moths ignite in the bug-zapper.

No one ever has anything good to say about global warming. Well, here's one benefit. Thanks to the beneficent effects of this Impending Global Disaster, more people are getting introduced to one of the South's most emblematic and remarkable plants -- the Confederate rose. 

Who wouldn't want a flower like this? Although there are many forms, with either single or double flowers, the classic version looks like this. Showy blooms, 4 to 6 inches wide, appear in fall. They open white, fade to pink as  they age, and finally end up red. You'll often see all three colors on the same plant. Cool, yes?

Native to China, confederate rose isn't a rose, but a species of hibiscus (Hibiscus mutabilis). According to legend, it gets its name from the flowers soaking up the blood spilled on Confederate battlefields. Felder Rushing, co-author of Passalong Plants -- arguably the most influential book on Southern gardening ever published --recalls that ladies in Mobile, Alabama gave these flowers to Confederate soldiers returning home from the war. (At 160 years old, Felder is still the world's oldest lady.) 

Some folks call the plant "cotton rose," because its leaves resemble cotton foliage and its round flower buds remind them of cotton bolls. This makes sense, because cotton and Confederate rose both belong to the mallow family, the Malvaceae. (See? I do know some real horticulture.)

Depending on where you live, Confederate rose can be either a small tree, a perennial, or an annual. In places that rarely feel frost, it gets huge. I saw one in Johnnie Walker's garden on Edisto Island, South Carolina, that must have been 30 feet tall. Imagine something like that loaded with multi-colored flowers each fall! And where it doesn't get cold, it keeps on blooming. In Florida, you can have flowers in December and January.

 
  
Where Grumpy lives, in north-central Alabama, Confederate rose becomes a large multi-trunked shrub about 8 feet tall. It freezes to the ground in winter and then comes back up. I shot this one at Aldridge Botanical Gardens in Hoover, AL. I don't know how far north this thing is hardy (Zone 6B?), but thanks to global warming, if it isn't hardy this year, it will probably be in two more years. So pump out more carbon and let's get gardening!

Confederate rose likes full to part sun and moist, fertile soil. It'll tolerate poor drainage, because the one above is growing in a wet spot. It's a favorite Southern passalong plant, since it's so easy to pass along. You can sow seeds in spring, but the easiest way to propagate it is to simply root cuttings in water. So if someone you know has this plant, don't be shy about asking for a piece. It's what we do down here.

What happens if they turn you down? Well, after you go on the internet and subscribe them to every spanking and jihadist magazine you can find, you can order a plant through the mail from the very nice folks at Woodlanders.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm in the middle of making the world a better place for Confederate rose. My homies and I need to burn some tires.

Once again, Grumpians, it's time to astound you with my complete mastery of all topics horticultural. The topics we'll review today include:

+Crepe myrtle sex

+Pruning holly

+Screening fishbowl with Leyland cypress

+'Endless Summer' hydrangea won't bloom

+Peace lily won't bloom

+Sowing wedding poppies

+Annihilating mole crickets

+Christmas cactus blooms

If none of these topics interest you, then you are sadly deficient in intellectual curiosity and deserve your own morning talk show on cable.

Question from Lynne: "I have two crepe myrtles in my front yard that won't bloom, except at the very top. They're planted under some tall pines. What's wrong? Are they both the same sex?"

Grumpy's wise reply:  Yes -- which is to say, no, because crepe myrtles have no sex, at least not out in the open. The cause of sparse blooms sounds like too much shade. The more sun your crepe myrtles get, the more blooms you'll get.

Question from Evergreen in SE Virginia: "I have two 12-foot hollies on either side of my front door that are very overgrown. I want to cut them back severely. May I do this and when?"

Grumpy's wise reply: The all-knowing Grump always recommends leaving a space of at least a foot between shrubbery and the house to facilitate good air circulation and prevent the growth of algae and mildew. Fortunately for you, holly is one of those plants that can be cut back within an inch of its life and still leaf out again. Prune them after your first frost. 

Question from Penny: "We live in a fishbowl and a landscape architect has suggested planting a screen of Leyland cypress on one side of our property for privacy. What do you think?"

Grumpy's wisenheimer reply: A Leyland cypress can grow 3 to 4 feet a year and reach a height of 80 feet, so it will quickly outgrow your fishbowl or even a good-size aquarium. It does make a good tall screen. Unfortunately, during the last decade, more and more of them have fallen victim to a disease called cypress canker that causes branches to turn brown and die. Canker usually affects plants under stress from drought, poor drainage, and overwatering (especially from lawn sprinklers). 'Green Giant' arbor vitae makes a good substitute, as it has the same basic shape.

Question from Faye: I've heard 'Endless Summer' hydrangea blooms all summer long. My plant hasn't produced any blooms since one blossom from last year. It's planted in well-drained soil, gets plenty of water and sunlight, and has beautiful green foliage. What am I doing wrong?"

Grumpy's compassionate reply: Don't feel bad. Many people have had the same experience. 'Endless Summer' does bloom on both old and new growth. But in order for this to happen, the plant needs a steady diet of water and fertilizer to keep it actively growing all summer. If it gets dry, it stops growing and you don't get any more flowers. The Grump has had 'Endless Summer' in the ground now for 5 years and this is the first summer it has produced a second flush of blooms. So far, we've had 64 inches of rain. Coincidence? He thinks not.

Question from Rita: "My peace lily plant doesn't bloom. Does it need high light? Should I fertilize it?"

Grumpy's succinct reply: Try moving it. Although peace lily (Spathiphyllum sp.) grows perfectly well in low light, it won't bloom very much. Bright, indirect light or filtered sun will do the trick. Direct sun is not the answer, though -- it'll burn the leaves.

Wedding question from Juli in Tennessee: "I am planning my daughter's wedding next June 5. I want to plant a large field next to my home with Iceland poppies. What are the chances I can have beautiful poppies on this date and what does this entail?"

Grumpy's shady reply: Making the Grump the primary beneficiary of your retirement account would certainly advance your chances. Absent that, I can't guarantee these cool-season annuals will still be in bloom, but you have a decent chance if the weather doesn't get too warm. Scatter the seeds atop bare soil right now and let the rain plant them. You can smooth some soil over them if you wish, but don't bury them more than a quarter-inch deep.   

Question from Monya: "My dogs nearly dug to China in search of mole crickets. Areas of my yard look like a mine field! What can I put out to kill these things without hurting my dogs?"

Grumpy's bloodthirsty reply: You need to apply a granular lawn insecticide to cause maximum carnage. Try Maxide. It's available at most home centers. Follow label directions carefully.

Question from Linda Lou: "How do I get my Christmas cactus to bloom? I would like it to bloom for the holidays."

Grumpy's didactic reply: Christmas cacti are short-day bloomers (like poinsettias). They set flower buds as the days grow shorter. I have mine outside right now in the light shade of my screened porch and only bring them inside when a frost is expected. They're already setting buds. Look closely at the ends of leaves for tiny, plump buds to appear. When they do, you can bring your plants inside and they'll bloom. Keep the soil moist while they're in bud and bloom. My plants have bloomed every year for the last 5 years.

Fall makes me happy because it's the grand consummation of what people and plants have been laboring for all year. People harvest alfalfa, soybeans, sweet potatoes, and apples. Fall flowers bloom to set seed to beget a new generation next year. Trees and shrubs glow school bus-yellow, pumpkin-orange, and stoplight-red as they retrieve nutrients made in their leaves that summer.

But it's the same fall color that drives me nuts. Every year at Southern Living, we zoom all over the South, trying to capture beautiful images of fall foliage at its peak. (The image above isn't one of them. I just took it this morning as the full moon was setting behind some Bradford pears. Pretty artsy, huh?) And no one -- and I mean no one -- can tell you if the fall color will be good this year and when the peak will happen. There's no more sinking feeling than flying somewhere to photograph fall foliage, come in for the landing, look out the window, and see nothing but green, green, green.

(Ok, Ok, being told you bear a striking resemblance to Susan Boyle is pretty devastating too, but all I had to do fix this was pluck my eyebrows and change my hair.)

It's not the same when hunting flowers. I once did a story on a whole neighborhood in Chevy Chase, MD where every street was lined on both sides with 'Yoshino' flowering cherries. This is the same cherry planted around the Tidal Basin. Getting the story meant getting to Chevy Chase at peak bloom. But this wasn't that hard because there's a National Park Service website you can go to where an expert on cherry trees examines the flowers every day and tells you with great accuracy what percentage of flowers will be in full bloom on a given day.

There's no such site for fall color. Oh sure, some tourism sites will give you a week when they think fall color will be nice, but they really don't know. Any time you go looking for fall color, it's basically a crap shoot.

Why do trees change color anyway? Scientists say the color change for trees that turn yellow and orange is basically no change at all. The pigments for those colors are always in the leaves, only masked by green chlorophyll used for photosynthesis. As trees prepare to drop their leaves, chlorophyll breaks down, and voila -- yellow and orange fall foliage.

Red fall foliage is a different matter. The chemical compound responsible for red in the leaves -- anthocyanin -- isn't produced until late summer. How come? And why is it produced at all?

Here's the deal. Traits in plants not managed by people are passed along because they provide those plants with a competitive advantage. Traits like fast growth, extensive seed production, tolerance of dry or wet soil, and resistance to disease all make it more likely that a particular plant will survive to pass along these traits to offspring, while those lacking them will not.

So what advantage do trees like Japanese maple, dogwood, Bradford pear, and black gum gain by turning red in fall? They don't do it to impress potential mates. Last time I checked, trees were all blind and pollination was pretty much random (like going on eHarmony for the first time).

I've heard two theories. One says trees turn red to chase away egg-laying aphids, because aphids don't like red. This sounds highly dubious. If it were true, wouldn't yellow-leaved trees like hickories, ginkgoes, and birches be sucked dry by aphids? And if all aphids hate red, are  there no aphids in Communist North Korea?

The other theory suggests anthocyanin acts like a sunscreen for leaves, protecting them from bright autumn sun as their formerly protective chlorophyll disintegrates. This sounds plausible, because the foliage of many trees emerges bronze or reddish in spring, before turning green. The chemicals causing this brief coloration protect the young leaves from sun damage.  

What triggers the color change each fall? A number of things factor into it, including shortening days and cooling temperatures. But I think weather plays a huge role. A few years ago, Birmingham experienced a record drought. I predicted terrible fall color because of it. In fact, we enjoyed one of our most spectacular falls ever. This year, we've already received over 60 inches of rain. (Sorry, people in Texas.) Fall color sucks. I think it's because all the rain prolonged the production of chlorophyll. Trees were duped. A lot of leaves just fell off green. My sugar maple out front was half-nekkid before showing any color at all.

But this is just my theory. I could be totally wrong. Like I said, no one can predict whether fall color will rock or suck. And that drives me nuts.

 'Autumn Blaze' maple at Bernheim Arboretum in Clermont, Kentucky

Dear Grumpy Gardener,
 
Why do I find some instructions saying when I plant my tree, I should not amend the soil with any compost, peat, other soil, or fertilizer? It says to  backfill with the soil that was removed from the hole. Other times I have read to mix the removed soil with all sorts of things to loosen it up. I have a bag of Tree and Shrub garden soil.

Do I or do I not use it to plant my beautiful 10 ft. Autumn Blaze maple? Jo

Grumpy says:

Here is why I don't believe in amending the soil when planting a shade tree like 'Autumn Blaze.' Many people think that the root system of a tree is a mirror-image of its trunk and branches. It's not. In fact, the root system of most trees looks pretty much like a pancake spreading far beyond the branches with the vast majority of roots in the top 6 inches of soil.

What's this means is that the roots don't stay in a tiny hole of amended soil. They spread out into the soil you have. Amending soil may actually inhibit root growth, as roots don't like growing from one type of soil into another. So what you should do is this:
 
1. Dig a hole at least three times wider than the root ball, but no deeper
2. Plant the root ball so that its top inch rises above the soil surface
3. Backfill around the root ball with loosened soil you dug out
4. Water thoroughly to settle the soil
5. Cover the top of the root ball with mulch.
 
The tree probably comes with slow-release fertilizer added, so there's no need to add more now. In the future, fertilize the tree by sprinkling tree fertilizer on the soil surface underneath the branches, but not up against the trunk.

Yet Another Reason I Resent My Son

This is my 15-year-old son, Brian, and his date for the Homecoming Dance, Savannah. I told him to make sure he picked a cute girl and he obviously followed instructions. So why am I resentful? Because I didn't have a date until I was 38 years old. Oh sure, eventually I married a hottie, but there were 25 lost years in the meantime. What a tragic loss for all of femaledom!
 

Have nasty rats and mice invaded your home? Do squirrels scamper through your attic? Have you called the exterminator over and over again only to have the problem return? Well, finally there's an answer -- a product guaranteed to rid your home of rodents forever.

That's right. Fresh Cat! The only all-natural rodent repellent made from 100% powdered housecats! One whiff of this and rats will scat and mice will think twice.

How does Fresh Cat work? Simple! Rodents just can't stand the smell of their arch-enemy, the common housecat. So we've created a cat-based product that smells just like the real thing because it is the real thing. Housecats, pure and natural. No additives, no preservatives, no worries.

How is Fresh Cat made? Let's just say we start with USDA Prime Grade A free-range housecats. We get them from shelters, people with too many cats, you know -- friendly folks just like you. The cats go through a 4-stage process that begins, appropriately enough, with a CAT scan. We then remove the brain and spinal cord to prevent any danger of mad cat disease. After several hours in a state-of-the-art feline dehydrator called the Cat-a-comb, the cats go into a special grinder called "Catsup", which reduces them to a fragrant powder that fills plastic mesh bags. Fresh Cat is ready to use!

Just two 4-ounce bags of Fresh Cat repels rodents from an average room for up to 30 days. And while original Fresh Cat is a blend of several breeds, Premium Fresh Cat is available in Siamese, Persian, Burmese, and Russian Blue (new!).

Don't suffer rodent infestations any longer. Order Fresh Cat today! When it comes to chasing away rats and mice, it's the cat's meow!

Fall color is here, so it's time to champion one of the Grump's favorite native trees for fall color -- sassafras. Its peachy-orange leaves help make autumn the favorite season of all discerning gardeners.

Native to the eastern U.S., sassafras (Sassafras albidum) stands out for several different qualities. First, it expresses (and you'll want to remember this term to impress your friends that you really are into book learning) foliar trimorphism. This means that its leaves have three different shapes. Some are oval; some have two lobes and look like either right-handed or left-handed mittens; and some have three lobes. All three appear on the same tree, as you can tell from the photo above. 

Second, all parts of the tree are aromatic -- just tear a leaf and sniff it. Sassafras tea is a traditional country drink made from boiling the bark of sassafras roots. Grumpy thinks it tastes like root beer, which logically, it should. I remember as a kid making it with my Dad, feeling a little guilty about digging up those roots and skinning them. I hope the tree had plenty more.

What I didn't know at the time was that sassafras tea made this way contains a potentially dangerous, naturally occurring compound called safrole. A couple of cups during your lifetime won't hurt you, but regular consumption has been linked to liver cancer and something even worse -- testicular shrinkage. The Grump assures you he drank only one cup.

Fortunately, you can buy sassafras concentrates like Pappy's that are safrole-free.You can order Pappy's from their website, but I've also seen it in plenty of grocery stores. It tastes  like the real thing, only without the shrinkage. George Constanza would be relieved. 

A third cool thing about sassafras is that young trees have bright green bark. This makes them easy to spot in winter woods. Successfully transplanting one from the wild isn't easy, because the roots are sparse and stringy. The smaller the tree is, the more luck you'll have. I wouldn't dig a tree any taller than 4 feet. Some garden centers carry sassafras grown in containers. You can also order it from Mail Order Natives.

Most sassafras trees are understory plants in the woods, quickly growing 20-25 feet tall, although they can eventually grow 40 feet or so. Here's a photo of a nice one growing next to our headquarters building at Southern Living. 

Sassafras likes full or partial sun, although you'll get better fall color in full sun. Give it moist, acid, well-drained soil that contains a good bit of organic matter.

Here's an interesting tidbit for those who constantly battle pests. Japanese beetles find sassafras leaves irresistible, so if you have lots of Japanese beetles where you live, good luck.

On the other hand, deer don't seem to like sassafras foliage. Pick your pest.  

A final warning to manly guys out there. Don't drink any more sassafras tea made the traditional way. No one will believe shrinkage happened because the pool water was cold.

Totally Unrelated Question

Has anyone seen my son floating in a balloon over Denver, Colorado? I don't know why he crawled in there. FYI, be sure to watch our new reality show: Five Geeks in a Balloon.

It'll star Grumpy, his wife, his son, his cat, and a different guest star every week. Our first guest will be Matt LeBlanc, formerly Joey on Friends. Yeah, like he has anything better to do. 

Wouldn't you think that a new book called Black Plants would restrict itself to black plants? You would and I would, but not the folks who published it, Timber Press. That's one of the reasons the Grump is black-listing this effort.

Maybe I'm just picky, but I don't think red flowers and yellow flowers and blue flowers qualify as black, even if Timber Press thinks they do. So why would they publish a book about black plants in which a lot of the plants aren't black?

I haven't any proof, but I would guess Timber Press thought the concept of black plants was so intriguing that they were determined to beat everybody else to the punch. So they immediately commissioned such a book, instructing its author to write about 75 plants with either black flowers or black leaves. There was just one little problem. They couldn't get their hands on 75 quality photos of black plants.

Hmmm. What to  do? I know! Let's put in photos of non-black plants and tell people they're black! People are dumb! They'll believe anything.

And so we get photos celebrating the blackness of plants such as these:

Lily-of-the-Nile (Agapanthus inapertus). Where's the black?

Snakesbeard iris (Hemodactylus tuberosus). Where's the black? Little dark-purple spots on yellow flowers don't count.

'Chocolate Pot' painted tongue (Salpiglossis 'Chocolate Pot'). Where's the black? Just because some marketing guy names a plant "chocolate" doesn't make it black.

Forgetting for a moment the misleading title, the second bone I have to pick with this book is lack of useful information for people living in warm climates. Discussion of hardiness is restricted to cold-hardiness; nowhere will you learn how much heat the plant will take. Many of the plants are finicky plants meant for the collector, not the average Joe. Moreover, the vast majority of the photos are headshots of whatever plant is claimed to be black, so you rarely see a plant in garden context, showing how it may be effectively combined with other non-"black" plants. I don't blame first-time author Paul Bonine for this. I'm sure he brings a lot more horticultural knowledge to the game than Black Plants (160 pages, $14.95)exhibits. He simply has to produce what the publisher wants.  

What I can't understand is why Timber Press, arguably this country's most productive, respected, and successful garden book publisher, chose to produce this. Was it the economy? Did they desperately need a book they could sell for less than $15, as opposed to their hallmark -- luxurious, beautifully photographed, expertly written coffee table books that that sell for $40 or more?

I don't know, but in the future, I hope they will remember the following points.

1. Dark blue isn't black.

2. Dark red isn't black.

3. Dark green isn't black.

4. "Chocolate" isn't black.

5. Purple isn't black.

6. Bronze and burgundy aren't black.

As Mick Jagger might have sung if he reviewed this book, "I see a red bloom and I want it painted black."

Clay soil curses most gardeners in the South. It drains poorly, dries hard as a rock, and restricts the movement of air, water, and plant roots. It's a pain in the butt to garden in. So naturally, we look for things we can add to it to loosen it up and save our aching backsides.

A lot of people think you can loosen up clay by mixing in lots of sand. It's sounds logical. After all, among all the constituents of soil, clay particles are smallest and compact the most, while sand particles are biggest and compact the least. Adding lots of sand will therefore break up that clay, right?

Wrong, wrong, wrong, rototiller-breath! Sand mixed with our Southern clays forms a sort of nasty concrete. When it dries, just try digging in it. You can jump from a tree onto the shovel blade, but the blade won't move and you'll lose your dentures.

Instead of adding sand, add organic matter -- lots of it. Any kind will do -- sphagnum peat moss, garden compost, composted cow manure, grass clippings, chopped up leaves, chopped pine bark, potting soil, worm castings, whatever. Organic matter coats the clay particles, opening up pores in the soil through which air, water, and roots can freely move. It also makes the soil comfy for earthworms and other organisms that loosen the soil even more. 

So forget sand. Add organic matter to your soil every year, in gross quantities if you can. Organic matter can turn even the worst clay soil into good soil within a couple of years.

The Grump hath spoken!  

                                                                                                                            Photo by Jared.

Millions of people love dogs. The Grump does not. The Grump hates dogs and it's all your fault.

Well, it's not your fault if you don't own a dog. But if you do, you and it live in my cross-hairs. Because I won't have to wait long to be annoyed or disgusted.

Here are things dogs and their enabling owners do that tick me off.

1. Dogs lick. I don't care if they do it to be nice, dog slobber is gooey and gross and dog breath is invariably a hot breeze from hell.

2. Dogs eat anything and I mean ANYTHING. Even something that recently emerged from another dog. Think about that the next time you get licked.

3. Dogs bite. I'll never forget the time I was 4 years old and being pulled on a sled by my father when a mean dog from a house up the street saw me as fresh meat, burst through a storm door, ran out into the street, and bit me twice on the leg. I vowed never to go sledding again without a can of bear spray and a Tazer.

4. Dogs bark loudly, incessantly, and at nothing. I blame their thoughtless, cruel, oafish owners for this. Why wouldn't a big black Lab bark all day when he's penned up in a yard the size of a toaster for the weekend, while its owners are off skiing in Vail? Too many dog owners only care about the dog when they're around and forget about it when they're not. Total jerks, says the Grump.

5. Dog owners walk the dog for one reason only and it ain't exercise. They walk the dog so it will poop in someone else's yard. Oh, I'm wrong? Then why do they walk in the dark so that none of the neighbors can see them? Why do they carry 30-foot leashes so the dog can explore your yard for just the right spot? While I commend owners who clean up after their dog, the truth is, I'd rather you let your dog poop in your own yard. If this seems unreasonable, then you won't mind if my family comes over to use your toilet. FYI, we prefer two-ply.

Now you may ask, what does this doggy diatribe have to do with gardening? Well, dog offense affects my enjoyment of the garden. If I can't spend time in my garden without being assaulted by incessant, staccato barking from next door (don't dogs EVER get hoarse?), dog owners letting their pets pee on my petunias, or stepping in a load left by some cretinous canine, then I say, "Enough! Take your act to Vietnam, where everyone LOVES dogs."

Take Toto too.