I thought I should do a quick check of the gardens, even though I stripped them last week before a frost. I left the sunflowers and the corn, so since tonight is a hard freeze, time to see what little can be salvaged.
What little? I was out two hours. I have a bag full of corn---lots of it small, but that's OK, all ripe. The sunflower seeds are gone---birds and rodents, I suppose. But then I have new peas and beans---not great looking ones, but certainly acceptable, and my broccoli plants are still thriving and producing delicious offshoots. So I picked a bag of greens.
Then the walnuts. One black walnut tree, which produced a few walnuts last year, has dropped all its leaves----and seven bags full of walnuts, with at least another bag's worth still on the tree!
Writer
Showing posts with label broccoli. Show all posts
Showing posts with label broccoli. Show all posts
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Snakes and Other Sounds
We get used to the strangest things.
The sound is barely audible, and very, very brief. But I hear it above all the cars, birds, dogs, planes, mowers, whatever is going on around the neighborhood—a garter snake escaping from under the garden’s black plastic as I approach. I can even tell which garden and the exact location of the snake, watching it slither quickly into the grass.
I start working the soil for a new plot, and I hear the low, quick sound of my neighbor’s horse quickly flapping his lips. From two hundred feet away, through several lines of densely packed evergreens, he knows I’m there. I know exactly where along the fence he is, too, although I can’t see him and I’m not sure how I can tell—nor how he can tell that yes, just this afternoon I bought a bag of carrots to share, still in the car…but he knows.
The neighbor’s dogs—on the other side, five hundred feet away---bark incessantly. They have eight dogs (they show them). I don’t even notice the sound, until my neighbor periodically yells at them to shut up. His barking is the annoyance, and it never works anyway, other than a second or two of silence before the dogs begin again.
Red-winged blackbirds tsk tsk continually. That does get irritating after a time. I know it won’t stop, however, nor can I get away from it, as the birds are telling others that I’m there and where I am. I watch them follow me as I move through the garden.
I check my strawberry patches---lots of berries, and many more on the way. Finally, fencing out rabbits and netting out birds has proven successful. I lift the net and pick the ripe berries—only to find that I’m now competing with ants and slugs for the fruit. Damn frustrating. I pick all the ripe berries before any more damage can be done. I’ll clearly have to stay on top of harvesting.
I check my broccoli---the largest plant is lying on its side, cut halfway through the stem at the ground. Rootworm. Great. Sigh.
I’m not fond of snakes. However, they don’t harm the plants, and they eat insects. They can stay.
And I don’t mind the sound anymore—I’m used to it.
Writer
The sound is barely audible, and very, very brief. But I hear it above all the cars, birds, dogs, planes, mowers, whatever is going on around the neighborhood—a garter snake escaping from under the garden’s black plastic as I approach. I can even tell which garden and the exact location of the snake, watching it slither quickly into the grass.
I start working the soil for a new plot, and I hear the low, quick sound of my neighbor’s horse quickly flapping his lips. From two hundred feet away, through several lines of densely packed evergreens, he knows I’m there. I know exactly where along the fence he is, too, although I can’t see him and I’m not sure how I can tell—nor how he can tell that yes, just this afternoon I bought a bag of carrots to share, still in the car…but he knows.
The neighbor’s dogs—on the other side, five hundred feet away---bark incessantly. They have eight dogs (they show them). I don’t even notice the sound, until my neighbor periodically yells at them to shut up. His barking is the annoyance, and it never works anyway, other than a second or two of silence before the dogs begin again.
Red-winged blackbirds tsk tsk continually. That does get irritating after a time. I know it won’t stop, however, nor can I get away from it, as the birds are telling others that I’m there and where I am. I watch them follow me as I move through the garden.
I check my strawberry patches---lots of berries, and many more on the way. Finally, fencing out rabbits and netting out birds has proven successful. I lift the net and pick the ripe berries—only to find that I’m now competing with ants and slugs for the fruit. Damn frustrating. I pick all the ripe berries before any more damage can be done. I’ll clearly have to stay on top of harvesting.
I check my broccoli---the largest plant is lying on its side, cut halfway through the stem at the ground. Rootworm. Great. Sigh.
I’m not fond of snakes. However, they don’t harm the plants, and they eat insects. They can stay.
And I don’t mind the sound anymore—I’m used to it.
Writer
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Days of Trees and--Nuts
A month ago I decided to expand my orchard to include nuts and some more fruits, so from an outfit in Wisconsin, I ordered Japanese Walnuts (I have Black Walnut), some Chestnuts, Hazelnuts, Pecans (I love pecans), Peanuts (I know, not a tree), Golden Apricot (My one apricot tree is lonely), along with Kiwi and three varieties of grapes (Again, yes, not trees). Just for the hell of it, because you can never have too many of these, I also ordered a handful of tomato and broccoli seeds.
Two weeks ago, I received a small box in the mail—my tomato and broccoli seeds. All else was backordered. Deep sigh.
*Ring—ring—ring* Not many people I know are morning people, so the early phone call on a Saturday yesterday morning was a surprise. *Hello?”
“Hi! This is Doug at the Post Office.” In a small town, we all know each other. “Hey, I’ve got a tree here that’s not gonna fit in the carrier’s vehicle. Can you pick it up?” I sighed. Yesterday I was home all day, a nice sunny day. Saturday I had a rehearsal and a concert out of town—not a day I could plant. Oh well. “Sure—be right down.”
He had two cardboard boxes, one 4 x 4 inches x 6 feet, the other 2 x 4 x 24 inches. Both had labels from the Wisconsin Department of Agriculture. Apparently, my supplier had the trees shipped directly to me. I opened the tops just to see what had come. I pulled out an invoice.
Everything. Huh? I looked down. I expected roots wrapped in plastic with cord or rubber bands. Nope. Pots. Pots! Those “cardboard” nursery type, half filled with soil—as nothing secured the plants from moving about nor the soil from falling out as the package was handled. Cheese heads have different ideas about shipping plants than we do in New York, I guess—the box wasn’t even labeled “This end up” – just a small felt pen marking, “Please rush—planting materials.”
Well almost everything—they shipped the female kiwi plant, but backordered the male kiwi. I opened the small “planting materials” box—and found the male kiwi. I looked at my watch and headed for the hardware store to pick up the stakes I’ll need before I would have to leave to rehearsal.—the hardware stores would be closed on Sunday, and EVERYTHING planted must immediately be fenced,, or the rabbits will eat it right down to the ground. (They even eat the needles off my Austrian Pines! It’s a running battle—I’ve become Mr. McGregor.)
So today is the day for the digging of holes and planting, fencing and watering of trees. Probably tomorrow too. Rain or shine.
Maybe I should pick up some extra ibuprofen…
Writer
Two weeks ago, I received a small box in the mail—my tomato and broccoli seeds. All else was backordered. Deep sigh.
*Ring—ring—ring* Not many people I know are morning people, so the early phone call on a Saturday yesterday morning was a surprise. *Hello?”
“Hi! This is Doug at the Post Office.” In a small town, we all know each other. “Hey, I’ve got a tree here that’s not gonna fit in the carrier’s vehicle. Can you pick it up?” I sighed. Yesterday I was home all day, a nice sunny day. Saturday I had a rehearsal and a concert out of town—not a day I could plant. Oh well. “Sure—be right down.”
He had two cardboard boxes, one 4 x 4 inches x 6 feet, the other 2 x 4 x 24 inches. Both had labels from the Wisconsin Department of Agriculture. Apparently, my supplier had the trees shipped directly to me. I opened the tops just to see what had come. I pulled out an invoice.
Everything. Huh? I looked down. I expected roots wrapped in plastic with cord or rubber bands. Nope. Pots. Pots! Those “cardboard” nursery type, half filled with soil—as nothing secured the plants from moving about nor the soil from falling out as the package was handled. Cheese heads have different ideas about shipping plants than we do in New York, I guess—the box wasn’t even labeled “This end up” – just a small felt pen marking, “Please rush—planting materials.”
Well almost everything—they shipped the female kiwi plant, but backordered the male kiwi. I opened the small “planting materials” box—and found the male kiwi. I looked at my watch and headed for the hardware store to pick up the stakes I’ll need before I would have to leave to rehearsal.—the hardware stores would be closed on Sunday, and EVERYTHING planted must immediately be fenced,, or the rabbits will eat it right down to the ground. (They even eat the needles off my Austrian Pines! It’s a running battle—I’ve become Mr. McGregor.)
So today is the day for the digging of holes and planting, fencing and watering of trees. Probably tomorrow too. Rain or shine.
Maybe I should pick up some extra ibuprofen…
Writer
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Garden Roulette
I grew vegetables the first year I moved to the country. I had a dream of self-sufficiency, and with 3½ acres, why not? I flagged down a farmer with a plow one morning, offered him $10 to plow me a small plot, and I was on my way. I learned a few things--beans are great producers, and I knew nothing about growing corn.
But my career got busy, and since gardens take work, I abandoned the practice for several years. After all, the stores were full of produce, and veggies were only part of my diet anyway. Things change, though. Fruits and vegetables have become most of my diet (for both health and maturity reasons), and with that much more skill in choosing them and constructing appealing meals. Add to that sharply rising prices and not always a good selection out here in the country without traveling to the city all the time to a superstore, and it was time to grow again. Anyway, I kind of like the “back to the land” thing anyway.
Time was still scarce, however. What to do? Experiment.
I designed a few separate plots. I did not invest in extensive turning of the soil, but rather hoed a few rows at a time with the intent of creating a “rolling harvest,” not a ton of produce due all at the same time (as I’d be too busy to deal with such a harvest during the academic year). I covered these plots with large sheets of black plastic with slits for the rows--the idea was to eliminate the need for weeding and to see if I could extend the growing season by creating warmer mini-climates. (The plots in different areas would also help cope with the weather, since different spots receive differing amounts of sun and water. One year one will be too wet, another year too dry, while another plot may be fine.)
At first, nothing. I had forgotten one thing--rabbits. I bought metal stakes and chicken wire, dug trenches around the gardens (to bury the bottom of the fence), and with the fences--suddenly I had lots of produce. (I still need to fence the strawberry plots, but one thing at a time. The strawberries will probably need netting too if I want them before the birds.)
OK, I had forgotten two things--vines climb. Without other opportunities, they climbed the chicken wire--and it’s just not sturdy enough to bear all that weight. The fences are still sort-of there, but I’ll have to invest in sturdier construction and something solid for vines to climb. (While I’m at it, I’ll enclose clear plastic between the new fence and the old chicken wire, then build similar panels for the top. That way. perhaps I can create warm enough spaces to start planting in April and grow through October.)
I didn’t start planting this year until June, so I was taking a lot of chances. I lucked out on the weather, though, with the first frost in the last weekend in October. I harvested lettuce, spinach, peas and beans all summer long, and I now have a few cantaloupe, one pumpkin, a fair amount of small, baby watermelon, and two copier boxes full of “close to ripe” green tomatoes (which will hopefully ripen soon). I didn’t get anything from the peppers I planted--just not ready yet.
What really hurt was the broccoli. I harvested a grocery bag of it, but it was just getting going, growing quickly. In another week, I’d have had 7-8 bags of it. Oh well. Next year.
At least I now know which crops do better in which plots and can plan accordingly. I’d also like to start growing some produce indoors--see if I can plant a little each week and hopefully have fresh produce ready all year round. At least so for, my gardening gambles have worked reasonably well.
Writer
But my career got busy, and since gardens take work, I abandoned the practice for several years. After all, the stores were full of produce, and veggies were only part of my diet anyway. Things change, though. Fruits and vegetables have become most of my diet (for both health and maturity reasons), and with that much more skill in choosing them and constructing appealing meals. Add to that sharply rising prices and not always a good selection out here in the country without traveling to the city all the time to a superstore, and it was time to grow again. Anyway, I kind of like the “back to the land” thing anyway.
Time was still scarce, however. What to do? Experiment.
I designed a few separate plots. I did not invest in extensive turning of the soil, but rather hoed a few rows at a time with the intent of creating a “rolling harvest,” not a ton of produce due all at the same time (as I’d be too busy to deal with such a harvest during the academic year). I covered these plots with large sheets of black plastic with slits for the rows--the idea was to eliminate the need for weeding and to see if I could extend the growing season by creating warmer mini-climates. (The plots in different areas would also help cope with the weather, since different spots receive differing amounts of sun and water. One year one will be too wet, another year too dry, while another plot may be fine.)
At first, nothing. I had forgotten one thing--rabbits. I bought metal stakes and chicken wire, dug trenches around the gardens (to bury the bottom of the fence), and with the fences--suddenly I had lots of produce. (I still need to fence the strawberry plots, but one thing at a time. The strawberries will probably need netting too if I want them before the birds.)
OK, I had forgotten two things--vines climb. Without other opportunities, they climbed the chicken wire--and it’s just not sturdy enough to bear all that weight. The fences are still sort-of there, but I’ll have to invest in sturdier construction and something solid for vines to climb. (While I’m at it, I’ll enclose clear plastic between the new fence and the old chicken wire, then build similar panels for the top. That way. perhaps I can create warm enough spaces to start planting in April and grow through October.)
I didn’t start planting this year until June, so I was taking a lot of chances. I lucked out on the weather, though, with the first frost in the last weekend in October. I harvested lettuce, spinach, peas and beans all summer long, and I now have a few cantaloupe, one pumpkin, a fair amount of small, baby watermelon, and two copier boxes full of “close to ripe” green tomatoes (which will hopefully ripen soon). I didn’t get anything from the peppers I planted--just not ready yet.
What really hurt was the broccoli. I harvested a grocery bag of it, but it was just getting going, growing quickly. In another week, I’d have had 7-8 bags of it. Oh well. Next year.
At least I now know which crops do better in which plots and can plan accordingly. I’d also like to start growing some produce indoors--see if I can plant a little each week and hopefully have fresh produce ready all year round. At least so for, my gardening gambles have worked reasonably well.
Writer
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