A gate might open through a split-rail fence to a winding, foot-trodden path through a field of waving grass and flowers. At the back leafy trees line the edge of the imagined cow pasture.
PLANTING AND CARE
Most containers for dish gardens and model landscapes are watertight. That is wonderful for any furniture on which they might be placed, but not so good for the plants. There is that eternal danger of overwatering. Roots rot when they stand in mud or water. In tight-bottomed containers it is wise to start with a thick drainage layer—pieces of broken flower pots, pebbles, brick, coarse sand, or even small pieces of charcoal. That gives the excess water a place to go. Cover this bottom layer with burlap or moss to keep the soil from sifting down.
The soil mixture should be suitable for the type of plant which is going to live in it—acid or alkaline, sandy or humus-rich—and should be moist—not muddy—at planting time. One at a time take your plants from their individual pots, set them in place, and make the soil firm enough to support them. Add dangling-edgers and ground cover last. Mist the finished garden with a fine spray of water, thus washing off any dirt and refreshing the foliage. Set the garden in a shaded, protected spot until the plants have recovered from transplanting shock.
Watering these gardens can be tricky. The soil may feel dry on the surface and yet be boggy underneath. Find a small bare spot where you can insert the handle of a spoon or a fork. Dig down to the bottom to make sure that water is really needed. And water with the greatest of care—enough to moisten the soil, but not enough to leave water standing in the bottom. No puddles, please.
Now supposing your hand has slipped—the hand holding the watering-pot—and you have overdone it. If the planting will allow, put the container on its side for a half-hour or so. But, please be careful—actually, I shudder to give you this piece of advice. I’m afraid you might find your creation out of its container and a muddy mess in the kitchen sink. All right, here is something else you can do; dig a hole in a bare spot—a small hole the size of a pencil and in the deepest part of your garden. Suck up the extra moisture with a pipette until the hole is dry. What, no pipette in your garden kit, then try a medicine dropper. No medicine dropper either—try a soda straw, but you had better be nimble or you will get a taste of dish garden. They don’t taste as good as they look.
If your garden is only a temporary decoration, you have given it your all and that is all the care it needs. But I feel you are going to love it so much you’ll want to keep it growing as long as possible. That changes the rules considerably. Place it, not on the coffee table, but in a window where it will get the light and sun the plants need, and where the temperature and humidity are to their liking. (Specific recommendations and plant preferences will be given in Chapters 6 and 16.) Hardy outdoor plants should be kept as cool as possible. You might set them in a cool room, or on an unheated porch, at night and bring them in only for the day. Fertilizing is usually not necessary, except when roots are severely crowded or you are trying to force a plant to bloom.
Keep the garden immaculately clean and neat. Remove faded flowers and tired leaves. Trim those plants that have a tendency to grow too large or straggly. It might be smart to remove any that refuse to stay within proper size. Train your climbers and creepers as you want them to grow. Keep your pools filled with clean fresh water. Mist foliage daily to keep it fresh and dust-free.
The dish gardens and model landscapes you plant this way are easy to care for, but those ones from a florist may present some problems. Now let’s be fair to florists—their gardens and landscapes are turned out on a commercial basis in order that they may make money. (Outside of a few fancy floral outfits, none of them gets rich, particularly when one considers the long hard hours they spend on the job.) In the interest of economy they often combine plants of complete cultural incompatibility—dry-growing succulents with moisture-loving aroids; African violets that need sun for flowering with ferns that scorch in it. Too often these dish gardens are crammed with too many plants for the amount of soil; and the roots have been bruised and broken in handling. The florist knows that two-thirds of the customers who buy his product are going to abuse it anyhow. So he takes a “what-the-dickens” attitude. Make it pretty for the moment, for tomorrow it is going to die anyhow. One more word in praise of my many florist friends—just let the man with the green paper, the ribbons, and the carnations sense that you love plants, understand them, and care for them, and he will go to bat for you. He will help you in every possible way. I’ve never known it to fail. Actually, they are a soft-hearted profession.
All right, so you have a typical florist-shop dish garden. Uncle Charlie bought it for you as an anniversary present because it looked cute in the shop window, and he couldn’t think of anything else. For all he knows that green stuff is spinach. As soon as Uncle Charlie has gone home, start remodeling the garden. Check over the plants and remove any that don’t agree with the majority of the other plants on light, moisture, and soil consistency. Pot up the good ones that you want to keep and thin out the others. Remember, those plants are going to do a lot of growing and must not be crowded. Use your ingenuity and common sense. Dig in the soil with that silver-spoon handle and see how much moisture is needed. Set the garden where light and humidity are right for the plants. You will have made yourself a new garden. Care for it as though it were your original creation. And when your next anniversary comes around, and Uncle Charlie comes around with another present—most likely a Chinese silent-butler—he will look at the dish garden and praise you for having a green thumb.