By KAREN MADORIN
Hedge apples, direct to you! Placing hedge apples around the foundation or inside a basement provides relief from cockroaches, spiders, box elder bugs, crickets, and other pests sums up a headline I read.
Why would anyone want hedge apples? Aren’t they ugly green fruits that look like a brain? In fact, green brain is another term for hedge apples along with Osage orange, hedge ball, and monkey ball. In short time, I learned more than I needed to know about these weird fruits, so I’ll share.
My quest to learn about hedge apples began when I found a source near my daughter’s house. I’d read they repel insects and other pests, so I played scientist to test this hypothesis.
I carried three spicy scented, oddly textured fruits home and set them on the patio to cure. (I’d not yet learned these perform best fresh.) The next morning as I headed to town, I noticed one hedge apple had vanished. In a hurry, I blamed our big yellow dog who occasionally entertained himself with objects left outside.
That afternoon, I returned to discover the disappearance of every hedge apple. A confirmed mystery lover, I began my quest. Where were my hedge balls? Although they don’t stink, their scent wouldn’t repeatedly attract our dog. In fact, he doesn’t like spicy, fruity smells. I know. I once fed him leftover fried apples.
Perhaps my husband tossed them, unaware of my natural pest control interest. Sometimes my experiments turn out poorly, so he might not recognize a good one in process.
Before he arrived to face interrogation, I found greenish remains. Nothing about them resembled a ball, an orange, or a brain. Something carried them from porch to nearby cedar and exploded them to smithereens. Reassembling that mess would confound any crime scene investigator.
That night I explained this mystery and showed my spouse the multitudinous bits. He immediately blamed squirrels, which I considered lame since our ample squirrel population made an obvious target. He added he frequently witnessed exploded shreds beneath country hedgerows. Still curious, I visited cyber space, researching hedge apples. My findings fascinated me.
Osage orange trees, native to eastern Texas, southeast Oklahoma, and southwestern Arkansas, produce hedge apples. Since humans don’t eat them and few animals (except squirrels) do, it begged a question. Why find hedgerows full of Osage orange trees across Kansas, a much drier, cooler climate than its native region?
Further reading offered an answer. Large thorns arm its branches. Prior to barb-wire’s invention, ranchers and farmers planted these trees around their land. Livestock couldn’t penetrate this “living fence,” which explains hedgerows in Kansas. These trees thrive as far as Iowa, so many old farmsteads showcase unusual “fencing.”
Unlike other introduced species that do more harm than good, consider this tree a boon. It tolerates poor soil, heat, and strong wind--a perfect Kansas tree. It also transplants well, resists disease, and produces durable and beautiful wood. I saw a garden bench made of Osage orange, and its orange, yellow, and brown hues set that bench apart from the ordinary--as much art as utilitarian.
Due to this wood’s strength, it makes great fence posts, insulator pins, furniture, and archery bows. Some claim it best for archery bows, leading the French to name the tree, bois d’arc, meaning bow wood. Since it thrives under difficult conditions, Kansans ought to plant more.
Back to this trees’ fruits, my experiment proceeded. I anticipated relief from our autumnal box elder beetle invasion. Spiders planning to share our house would seek alternate lodging, and crickets would find new sites to practice obnoxious tunes. To encourage me, one site sold this natural repellent at $1.50 a hedge apple, plus shipping.
In this case, you’ll have to wait to next week to find out how my experiment turned into a horror movie plot.