Back to where we started

July 15th, 2009

…in a manner of speaking.

By this I just mean that I’m, once again, going to sing the praises of “Mel’s Mix.”  Remember I blogged, a couple of weeks back, about how rainy it’s been here?  Well, some folk (like my mother) have been having trouble growing things like spinach and beans.  Not here.  Because the boxes are raised, and because Mel’s Mix will only absorb water until it’s saturated, our boxes never got soggy.  We’ve had so much spinach it was all we (really, I) could do to keep up.

That said, we’ve already decided that, next year, we’ll plant half the lettuce and twice the spinach.  Or, at least, that’s what I’ve decided!  The lettuce is nearly impossible to keep up with, and while we’ve strong-armed our children into consuming all manner of odd veggies (garlic scapes yesterday) they remain rather resistant to the ongoing ingestion of “leaves” (as our younger son has dubbed all lettuce).  And really, can YOU eat salad every.single.day?  Joan: you’re not to answer this one!

In any case, the largest triumph of the past two weeks has been (drum roll, please) that we’ve harvested TWO zucchini, and there are plenty more on the way!

Two Zucchini

Victory over the nasty buggies!!!

I’d been freaking out over the number of holes the dreaded cucumber beetles were chewing in the zucchini leaves, and diligently squishing them when my dear, sweet, husband decided that the zucchini plant’s leaves were “taking up too much space,” so he went out and hacked off several stems nearly at the root.

The Damage: seriously?  Can you believe it survived?

The Damage: seriously? Can you believe it survived?

Crazy, right?  But somehow the zucchini plants have soldiered on.  Will the wonders never cease?

A Beautiful Zucchini Flower.

A Beautiful Zucchini Flower. Gorgeous in spite of adversity.

He also took up the remaining spinach (past its prime) and harvested some entire lettuce plants (really, they were done, too).  And this:

The Happy Hacker: also harvested some dill to dry.  In my front closet.

The Happy Hacker: also harvested some dill to dry. In my front closet.

Indeed, the surviving cucumber plant (one, sadly, succumbed to the ravening beetles) has some miniature cucumbers beginning to appear.  Does it strike anyone else as odd that the Cucumber Beetle has destroyed only one cucumber plant, while swarming (and destroying) a squash plant, crippling a melon plant, nearly destroying the zucchini plants, and chewing holes in oodles of spinach and bean leaves?  Can they not stick to the plant for which they were named?  Sheesh.  Potato Beetles make more sense to me.

On one last encouraging note: I noticed several wee pea pods today!  I’m filled with glee at the though of imminent pea feasts.  YUM!

Organic Pest Control

July 2nd, 2009

Remember our lovely yellow and black “friends?”  Here’s a shot from yesterday to refresh your memory:

Caught leaving the scene of the crime

Now known to be the NASTY Cucumber Beetle

As I’m trying to avoid nasty chemicals and other goo that hurts lots of stuff in addition to the bugs they’re meant to kill…I knew I needed to come up with a method for controlling (at least) their population.  I decided I should start to *pick* them off the leaves.

That said, our daughter (aka: the largest predator) is already a little overfond of harvesting anything she can get her little hands on in the garden.  I was a little concerned that she might see me plucking bugs and decide to make off with (more) plants that she’s ripped out from the ground.

Today is the answer to my problem. Our elder son has a good pal over today and they were more than happy to go on the bug hunt.  What fun!  There really is nothing more exciting than donning a pair of gloves and seeing how many nasty little bugs you can catch and SQUISH!

On the Hunt

On the Hunt

Friend has been rather taken with the amount of bug guts she has managed to accumulate on her gloves, although she has informed son that rubbing one’s gloves together is an effective method for cleaning said bugs off gloves.  She also has kept track of her number.  When I left them to come inside (to make rolls, not just to blog) she had caught 7.  Son thinks he’s gotten at least 6.  I managed to squish about 8 myself.

I got one!  Me, too!

I got one! Me, too!

The other greatly satisfying part of this sadistic little game is that it’s very challenging.  These suckers can FLY and they are easily spooked. They also love to hang out on the underside of the leaves. I also found it quite satisfying to squish two at a time - I liked the thought of nipping future generations in the bud (so to speak) whereas the kids were just happy to get two for one.

Gotcha!

Gotcha!

The final tally (according to the kids) after about 20 minutes: him 10 to 15, her 10 to 12.

Younger son’s birthday is soon upon us.  Perhaps this would make a uniquely delightful party game…

Caught in the Act

June 30th, 2009

My dear Grammie is not, exactly, what one would refer to as an organic gardener.   Or a bug lover of any sort.  I remember sleeping over at her house, as a child, and listening to the lovely sound of a chirping cricket.  This sound was quickly followed by the sounds of Grammie’s footsteps, a cupboard opening and then a deadly psssSSSssst.  That brought an abrupt end to the sounds of one luckless bug.

I have to say that today I felt a certain wistfulness when fondly remembering the smell of Raid (yes, I associate the smell of Raid with my Grammie, and therefore it’s not a smell I dislike). I visited the garden during a brief non-raining period during which my three children coated themselves liberally with mud, soil, and other unidentified muck.  This nearly ceaseless period of rain (in its second week now) has been great for growing: our zucchini plants, to cite but one example, are looking positively prehistoric, and I would worry that they are shading the other plants too much, except that’s not possible since there is no sun to create shade.

Marvelous Zucchini and Friends

Marvelous Zucchini and Friends

The damp has also, apparently, been marvelous for the proliferation of bugs of many descriptions.

I found lovely yellow dudes who seem to be enjoying the produce free-for-all:

Black and Yellow Fellow: who is this?

Black and Yellow Fellow: who is this?

Caught leaving the scene of the crime

Caught leaving the scene of the crime

a hornet, many earwigs (who, in spite of their inclination to eat aphids, still make my skin crawl like no other bug can) a spider, a Daddy Long Legs , and even one big, fat slug.  I gave the slug something he’s never experienced before: flight.  Yes, sluggy soared aloft for several seconds as I put 20 feet between him and my food.  There were also a couple of other unidentified (by me, at least) bugs:

Another unidentified bug-oid

Another nameless ne'er-do-well

Most of these bug encounters occurred as I picked an enormous pile of spinach.  After very thoroughly cleaning it (resulting in the untimely death of 2 earwigs, one small spider, and an uncounted number of bug eggs) I cooked it and had a delicious lunch.  It’s no wonder the bugs have been munching it.  Yum.

Lunch for ME

Lunch for ME

Even though I do begrudge sharing my garden with insects, I’m also glad that the worst thing I could be (inadvertently) putting into my mouth (or the mouths of my children) would be a bug and not nasty pesticide residue.  I think it’s worth it, don’t you?

Sharing the Wealth

June 27th, 2009

I bet you thought this post would be about how we’re giving produce to our friends and neighbour?  Right?  Well,  to be fair, I did bring Mom a bowl of spinach this afternoon (decent recompense for years and years and years of enjoying the bounty of her enormous garden, wouldn’t you say?).

But no, I’m not talking about our largesse unless you are possessed of six legs.  Yes, the buggies have found our garden in droves.  In the (somewhat skewed) words of W.P. Kinsella: if you plant it, they will come.  A bug box of dreams, as it were. I took some pictures of the damage and if you, dear reader, are knowledgeable about such things and you enjoy a game of “name that bug,” perhaps you can tell me whom we’ve been hosting for dinner?

Bitten Beans

Bitten Beans

Snacked-on Spinach

Snacked-on Spinach

Picked-at Peas

Picked-at Peas

At this point in time, I’m mostly interested in eating around bug holes and leaving things as they are.  Mike is more interested in pouring the molds for our entrance walkway (won’t that be cool?!?).  However, I’m sure we’ll soon look to some (non-poisonous, toxic, nasty, or otherwise frightening) methods of dissuading these pernicious pests.  After all, even though we’re sharing with them, there is no guarantee they’ll share with us. Stay tuned…

Even the Zucchini has been a snack, but I couldn't think of any "eating" word that started with Z, so I compared it to my hand instead.  Humungous.

Even the Zucchini has been a snack, but I couldn't think of any "eating" word that started with Z, so I compared it to my hand instead. Humungous.

A Gardening Misconception

June 26th, 2009

So, you know how kids always make those drawings that explain what plants need to grow?  You know: sun, rain, and earth?  This mis-education led me to the mistaken assumption that sunshine was needed for plants to thrive.  As it happens, our gardens seem to be doing just fine after days of endless rain, rain, and more rain.  And what is projected for the next week, you ask?  That’s right: more rain.

Artist's reproduction of our garden as it is sure to appear in the next few days.  And/or my aquarium.

Artist's* rendition of our garden as it is sure to appear in the next few days. And/or my aquarium.

See, it’s like when people ask me why I think a cold climate is (overall) superior to a warm climate.  If you’re freezing outside, you come in and with relatively little effort, technology, or expense you can be warm as toast in no time.  If it’s boiling outside, however, it requires a lot more effort, technology and expense to cool yourself down (kiddie pools notwithstanding).  Point being: we can water our gardens if we have too much sun…but we can’t sun our gardens, if you catch my drift.

See?  We have backup if there is no rain.  Seriously.

See? We have backup if there is no rain. Seriously.

I guess what I’m trying to say is: give me a break already.

Strange blue stuff: what is this?  Tiny patch of blue spotted this morning in amongst the blue and grey.

Strange blue stuff: what is this? Tiny patch of blue spotted this morning in amongst the blue and gray.

In spite of all this doom and gloom, our gardens appear to be flourishing.  The zucchini leaves are bigger than my head (not a word of a lie), the spinach is waiting patiently to become a lovely frittata, the dill is spectacularly seeding, and the bean plants are working hard at becoming my favourite vegetable of all time.  Two of our boxes really do, I have to say, look exactly like Mr. Bartholomew said they would.

Gardening splendor: see?  They seem to be just fine with only the tiniest bit of sunshine imaginable.

Gardening splendor: see? They seem to be just fine with only the tiniest bit of sunshine imaginable.

My children are stir crazy, my lawn is a mess, and the frizzies know no bounds, but I guess I’m glad of this ongoing saturation if it’s going to make a bountiful harvest.  I guess.

* Okay, so I didn’t get the BFA, but surely 2 years at NSCAD entitles me to refer to myself as an artist?  No?

At Least WE Haven’t Gone to Seed…Yet

June 24th, 2009

We are almost self-sufficient here.  Well, if we thought that lettuce and dill would sufficiently suffice.  Yesterday I made the world’s most delicious* chicken souvlaki wraps** with the aid of some delectable lettuce and some lovely dill.  It really doesn’t get much better than this.

Yummy Lettuce for your viewing pleasure.

Yummy lettuce for your viewing pleasure: still pre-washed. Where the heck is that sunshine?!?

As you can see, the dill has gone to seed.

Dill: gone to seed

Dill: pregnant with possibility

Isn’t it odd how reproduction signals the end of life in the plant world? I’m just going to leave that one and walk far, far away.

But getting back to the souvlaki…if the cucumber and tomatoes had come from our garden, too, I guess it would have been even better.  Alas, while our tomato plants are looking lovely, they are not quite ready to harvest.  I really can’t wait.  I don’t think there is anything more delicious than a sun warmed tomato plucked directly off the vine.  Yum.  At least the cucumber was a local resident, if not from our very own backyard.  And I should also point out that I bought a local tomato, too!  One of the great benefits of going with the Taproot CSA is that we’re becoming familiar with local brands, so it makes it that much easier to select local produce.

In other news, yesterday also saw Mike taking action against the poor growth of one square.  At my behest he begrudgingly provided me with a photo of the fertilizer he used.

Organic Fertilizer...let's see how this goes

Organic Fertilizer...let's see how this goes

It’s apparently organic (but isn’t arsenic***, too?) but I’m not sure what all it contains.  Here’s hoping it does the trick.

And I’ll leave you with a question.  Who is this buggy?  And should I be concerned about him and his entourage?  There are oodles of them over all my plants.

Bug on spinach: he's VERY small (about 4mm long)

Bug on spinach: he's VERY small (about 4mm long) He really has very fetching green eyes, wouldn't you agree?

* It’s entirely possible that I may have lapsed into hyperbole here.  They were good, though, they really were.

** I may not have followed this recipe exactly.  It’s been known to happen before.

*** Which is just me being “funny.”  I’m sure Mike carefully chose this stuff and I expect it to work wonders.

Carrots in Disguise

June 23rd, 2009

I’m thinking it’s just about time to lean on Mike to jazz this blog up a bit (visually, that is).  I’ve been perusing many a blog as of late, and I’m frequently impressed by the visual loveliness lots of them boast.  While I’m technically rather deficient, my better half is a programmer with mad skills, heretofore un-highlighted.  Stay tuned in the upcoming days, as I hope I’ll twist his arm sufficiently to generate some pizzazz* in the blogosphere.

In gardening news: after harvesting some spinach on Thursday, we were able to make an enormous salad on Sunday (in honor of Father’s Day) to share with my parents and Joan’s family.  I have to say that that spinach is the most delicious I’ve ever tasted.  It’s absolutely perfect raw and cooked.

Yesterday we decided to take the plunge and harvest the 5 carrots that we’ve been eye-balling for some time.  As you can see, the tops of the carrots were, to say the least, impressive.

Carrot Tops (and friends) with Mike

Carrot Tops (and friends) with Mike

I’m told they were also delicious.

Binky: noshing on the tops (sorry it's a bit blurry)

Binky: noshing on the tops (sorry it's a bit blurry)

Mike and I had visions of carrot behemoths.  Carrot juggernauts.  Carrots that would block out the sun.  I mean, those tops had to be harbingers of plenty, right?

Alas, as you may have gathered from the preceding, we were rather disappointed in the size of said carrots once we’d actually yanked them out.  They were quite small, really.

Carrots: Less Than Meets The Eye

Carrots: Less Than Meets The Eye

I’ll admit I’m mystified by several aspects of this carrotage:

1. Why were they so gosh-darned hirsute? (yes, I realize carrots cannot, actually, be hairy; these were zillions of roots sprouting out in every direction).  To wit:

Captain Vegetable

Captain Vegetable**: it needs to be said.

2. Why were they so short?  It has been my (limited, admittedly) experience that thick, dense tops equal large carrots.

3. Why, I’m still wondering, did Mike start these carrots indoors and 3b. why did they survive transplanting?

4. Does 3 really explain 1 and 2?

If you have any clue, let me know!

The good news, however, is that the carrots were pronounced delicious by one and all.

Yum: I swear the orange shirts were a coincidence

Yum: I swear the orange shirts were a coincidence

*Anyone else think it’s a crying shame that the word pizzazz will never, ever be played in a (legitimate) game of Scrabble?  Truly tragic.

** Also tragic would be a lack of knowledge as to the identity of Captain Vegetable.

Apparently Mother Nature Thinks We Need To Water More

June 21st, 2009

Mon

Periods of rain

Tue

Periods of rain

Wed

Showers

Thu

Chance of showers

Fri

Cloudy

Sat

Cloudy

As you can see from our upcoming forecast here in the lovely Annapolis Valley, photos may be slightly underrepresented in the next few days of blogdom here.  Which is too bad, on several levels.

But really, I can’t complain.  Nature gave our plants heaps of sunshine and nice warm air; now it’s time to water.  Water LOTS, that is. I can’t help but hope this liberal application of H2O will bring one of our boxes up to speed.

It is interesting to note that while one of our boxes is fairly bursting at the seams with robust growth, two are only growing at a decent pace, and one is somewhat growth-challenged.  Normally, one would presume that the soil would be slightly different in that area (particularly in the crazily varied soil we get in this corner of the Earth).  We’re thinking that the maple tree that partially shades all the boxes may linger slightly longer on that one box than the others…but we’re not sure.  If I get really intrepid, I may take a contrast photo one of these days!

Happily Growing

Happily Growing

The good news is HUGE, though: we harvested our first Spinach this week.

Bounty!  Can you believe it?

Bounty! Can you believe it?

*Actual* *food* *we* *grew* *ourselves.*  It boggles the mind, and rocks the taste buds.  Our spinach made friends with some from our CSA and happily provided yummy deliciousness to the fine lasagna I made.  Now if only I could grow ricotta out there, I’d be totally happy.  And maybe jelly beans.  And soup.

UPDATE:

As soon as I’d posted the above, I realized it was not raining out (exactly) so I dutifully bustled, post-haste, out to our gardens and snapped these beauties. You’ll note I was able to provide pictorial evidence of our contrasting gardens:

*Meh*

*Meh*

*Boo-Yah!*

*Boo-Yah!*

Today's Harvest: Now PRE-Washed!

Today's Harvest: Now PRE-Washed!

Roles

June 15th, 2009

This evening, as I was mowing the lawn (something I don’t typically do) I thought fondly of my mislaid* friend Chad, who used to groan in agony with every new story about my home life.  “Isn’t there anything that you guys have exclusive responsibility for??” he’d say (or something along those lines).  He found it absolutely infuriating that Mike and I shared equally in all the things that we did.  It occurs to me that Chad would be much happier with our arrangements these days, as Mike does all the mowing and all the gardening.  I mean, whoops.  Mike does the gardening.

Which is all the more odd, therefore, that I do the writing about it.  But there you have it.  It’s not that Mike’s an illiterate blob, either, in fact he’s exceedingly articulate, if somewhat under-gifted (as it were) in the spelling department.  I did experience one of those weird gender-reversal mind shifts as Mike hollered at me, whilst preparing to stroll our three children off for Popsicles, “PLEASE don’t run over my squash!!!  DON’T forget it’s there!!!”  Shee-yaw, right, as if!

And all of the preceding is simply a round about way to let you know that since not much has changed from yesterday (except we’re down one squash plant.  Kidding,) it seemed the perfect time to discuss one of our reasons for starting to garden.

See?  I didn't mow the squash!  Would I lie to you?

See? I didn't mow the squash! Would I lie to you?

We really are gardening neophytes (which is a nice way of saying “ignorant nincompoops”) so why put ourselves through this misery?  Especially when we’ve become members of not one, but two fabulous local CSAs (consecutively, not concurrently: Taproot and Heart and Soil).

Well, one reason is this: there is something almost wanton about our use of land in this part of the world.  You need only watch a film like City of God, or Slumdog Millionaire to be reminded that having even a small backyard is such an incredible privilege.  I don’t know how big our backyard is, but we could probably put up 100 of those slum lean-tos and it’s all ours.  That is crazy!  And the REALLY crazy thing is that there are so many people in this world who would pass out from the sheer joy of imaging the possibilities for FOOD from our huge…uh…lawn.

Just a small part of our yard: an embarrassment of riches.

Just a small part of our yard: an embarrassment of riches.

Thus: stewardship.  I know that sounds weird when we’re planting boxes and using (essentially) artificial soil, but the idea is there all the same.  We want our children to know what the earth is really for - for growing things and sustaining itself.  And that we are so incredibly lucky to be able to poke something into the earth and watch it grow into sustenance for us.  It’s just like magic.

Just because she's so darn cute; and we're growing her, too.

Just because she's so darn cute; and we're growing her, too.

*Okay, so he’s not really mislaid, I’m sure he knows where he is.  He moved west, I moved east, we worked together is all.

No Treasure Under These Xs.

June 14th, 2009

In this family we’re all about support: support for trying and not entirely succeeding, support for giving one’s best effort, support for doing the best that you can within reason.  Unless you’re a plant, that is.  In that case, we refer to the immortal words of one Homer Simpson: “if at first you don’t succeed, give up.”

While we’ve had some wonderful growing successes, some of our plants just didn’t make the cut.  While we’re all about giving second chances, we felt that it would stink if we devoted precious gardening space to plants that weren’t  going to come up at all, or that weren’t going to do much in the way of producing veggies.

X marks the non-producing squares: this was our least-producing box

X marks the non-producing squares: this was our least-producing box/pot collection

Thus, some plants have had to be removed.  In some cases, the plants were victims of transplanting gone horribly wrong.  There are a lot of reasons that transplanted plants can fail to thrive.  Sometimes it’s just the shock of moving, other times the process involves damage to delicate plants, there is also the harshness of the elements compared to the cushy lifestyle to which they’d been accustomed.  We are also pretty sure that some plants were simply sown too early indoors, and therefore they were far too tall and delicate: they grew thin and spindly because nothing was forcing them to put energy into making strong stems, and as soon as they were faced with wind and rain they simply fell apart.

The Dill has adapted to the out-of-doors very nicely.

Dill: demonstrating how to properly adapt to a weak stalk. Whatever works.

In any case, Mike pulled and replaced the following: some basil was replaced with jalapeños, some tomatoes were replaced in kind and some with peppers, some peppers were also replaced in kind, marigolds (that never even sprouted) were replaced by pepper and broccoli, squash was replaced by melons (of what sort, I’m not sure, nor is the little taggy thing very helpful in this regard), and some parsley was replaced in kind.  In the pots Mike planted broccoli in lieu of both squash and melons.  I’m a little sad about the (apparent) dearth of squash, but I’m reassured by my mother’s ability to produce bumper crops of squash year after year.

Melon: aka Squash Supplanter

Melon: aka Squash Supplanter (note the helpful tag which reads "Melon." Thanks for that).

Parsley: new and improved (alive, that is).

Parsley: new and improved (alive, that is).

I would also like to point out, at this juncture, that in spite of my aforementioned cavalier attitude to unsuccessful plants, Mike has not entirely given up hope.  The pulled plants have been given a second chance at life in a heap of sod next to our compost pile.  Best of luck to them. Mike had lots of fun replanting these transplants.  Or something like that!

The Plant Retirement Patch

The Plant Retirement Patch