The VeggieSmith Blog

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

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?

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 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

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?

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

Snacked-on Spinach

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.

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* 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.

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 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.

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?

Yes, it’s true.  Our wee plants have been introduced to the real world.  Throwing caution to the wind, Mike braved the harsh elements and transplanted his babies* with nary a backward glance.

Home at last

Or something like that.  In actual fact, some of the seedlings are still gazing longingly out of the window.  And it was a lovely day to plant (on Sunday) if not to photograph.  The day was misty and coolish, eventually giving way to actual rain.  Mike pushed on in spite of it, until he was too waterlogged to continue.

Spring in Nova Scotia can be a strange beast.  Right now it’s 15C (about 60F); last night there was a risk of frost.  Tomorrow, it’s supposed to be 30C (86F) or higher.  It’s hard on a tender little plant who is used to being coddled in a room with a view.

Nonetheless, transition they did, and so far, so good.  Mike is holding his breath for his bean plants - as I mentioned in an earlier post, he planted his beans VERY early, but they do seem to be holding up so far.  It’s odd to me how very invested I’ve become in this whole gardening endeavor.  Growing up, gardening meant being compelled to slog through bugs and muck to grudgingly harvest vegetables I wasn’t altogether crazy about eating.  My, how times have changed!  Yesterday I saw the frost warning and I immediately alerted Mike at work.  He rushed off from work early to get PVC tubing (piping?  what do I call that stuff?) to construct covers for our wee darlings.  Okay, I may be overstating this a bit: we’re a one car family and there wasn’t time to get stuff AND be home in time to take our son to Karate.  But I digress.

As per Mr. Bartholomew’s instructions, Mike made these lovely domes for our plants.  I think it took him just over an hour to construct 4 of them, and they seem to have done the job.  The plastic is, of course, removable, so the plants can bask in the glory of sunshine and a lovely breeze today.

Domed: note the GIANT bean plant...

One down, three to go

An attempt to show the fancy method for joining the two poles.

*I do plan to fill you in a bit more on the transplanting and final preparation of the beds, but for now I’m focused on frost.

Wow.  A whole week.  My apologies.  It’s been busy.

I intend to fill you in on “hardening off“, but first I should update about our compost kerfuffle (that sounds better in my head than it looks.  Seriously: say it out loud “compost kerfuffle”).  Of course, it really was more of a non-kerfuffle.  And yes, Joany, it’s spelled correctly, I promise!

Last Sunday we were VERY excited to head out to grab our 5 free bags of compost from Valley Waste Resource Management at the Just Us Cafe (well, in their yard, not in the cafe).

See: I didn't make it up! FREE!!! ( and ANNUAL!!!)

As the event was scheduled to go from 9am until the compost was gone, we decided to hustle.  We arrived at 9:40.  Word to the wise: if you plan to partake of this exciting affair in future years, arrive before 9:40.  We were fortunate enough to see the last few bags of compost on their way to their new homes.  There was one benefit to this wasted outing (and not, I might add, a delightful cup of coffee: the cafe doesn’t open until 10 on Sundays).  We got to witness the size of the bags.  It seems the Valley folk are a jaded lot: if I had a dime for every person who said, “a free bag, eh?  What, a Ziploc sandwich bag?” I wouldn’t be after free compost.  Using my trusty eyeball estimate, I’d say the bags are about 12″x36″ (more or less, and no, I won’t estimate in metric.  Google it).  So, yes, a decent size and worth the trek if you can get there at the crack of 9. *ahem*

Our boxes: filled at last (with the addition of some purchased compost).

But back to the topic at hand.

Tomorrow is the glorious (if rather arbitrary) date the gardening gods have decreed as officially frost free in our zone.  Gardening neophyte as I am, I assumed this meant we’d rush out first thing in the morning and plunk all our happy seedlings into their waiting beds.  My dearly beloved gasped in horror at the thought of such a rude and unceremonious transition for his delicate baby plants.  It seems they need “hardening off” (which, I’ll be honest, was something I thought one allowed Play-Doh projects to do for posterity.  Live and learn).  So each day this week (more or less) we’ve been introducing our tender shoots to the harsh realities of our cruel, cruel climate.  Sun (albeit filtered through a protective tree cover), wind (not TOO much) and rain (although I’ve been instructed to escort our wee darlings back inside should the fore-casted showers prove fiercer than a mild mist).  You may have guessed, by now, that my better half is responsible for the instructions in parentheses.  I’m not sure how we’ll tend to our plantlings’ delicate constitutions once they are *gasp* fending for themselves without benefit of easy transportation indoors at the slightest provocation.  I’m hoping Mike doesn’t decide to build the first dome-covered square foot garden…

Ah, the dappled sunlight on the dainty seedlings.

All this aside: I have been assured by sources (both online and from actual human beings with whom I have spoken in real life) that hardening off is actually the recommended way to go, including all the seemingly hyperbolic precautions my darling insisted upon.

We're not sure how to protect them from large predators...

Sometime in the early summer of 2008, my husband decided he would like to start a garden.  Being possessed of a newborn (our daughter was born in March of 2008) not to mention two older sons…I declined to participate.  Mike decided to start small, so he dug out a tiny patch (about 4′ by 5′) at the back of our property, nestled up against a row of trees.  He worked in a huge bag of sheep manure compost, planted his rows (of carrots, pumpkin, tomatoes, sunflowers, and who knows what else).  He watered his patch diligently and waited.

Of course, having planted so late in the season, he was rewarded with a few stubby carrots, about 5 tomatoes (from about 10 plants), and a non-fruiting pumpkin vine.  The sunflowers were lovely, though, and much appreciated by our multitude of crows and blue jays.

Mike was rather disappointed.  I was quite disinterested, being up to my eyeballs in cloth diapers, toilet training, baby barf, and transporting our oldest son to his various summer activities.  No one has ever said my life is lacking in glamor.  But I digress.

Thus ended our gardening season of 2008.

Mike readily admitted that his approach to gardening had been haphazard at best.  Never one to walk away from a challenge, this suburban raised computer geek decided to tackle the problem of gardening head on…by educating himself with every spare moment he could arrange during the winter months.

In the course of his research, Mike concluded that we would most likely be successful in 2009’s gardening attempt if we followed the dictates of “Square Foot Gardening” (as invented, espoused, and indeed, propagated by one Mel Bartholomew).

This blog will track our process, as I’ve now become as fully invested in our gardening endeavor as I’ll ever be (take that as you like!).  I will attempt to keep you reasonably up-to-date with the process and progress of building our gardens, tending our seedlings, and “growing” our compost.  I hope you enjoy reading.