Knee High By the Fourth of July?

Check!

Our popcorn shows promise. If the harvest is as good as this augurs, we should be able to go without buying our favorite treat for quite a few months. Maybe even an entire year.


In general, the squash is not doing all that well this year. I don't think they liked the heavy rain this month. But one volunteer vine that I spared seems to have bred true enough to be producing pumpkins. I'm optimistic that I'll get at least one triamble from the seeds Novella offered this past winter.


The comfrey plants have exploded in their second year and don't seem to have minded the rain at all. The beauty of this plant is that I can hack it back, and hack it back again to spread the nutrients it accumulates all over the garden. I just use the chop and drop method. The pretty but shy blossoms are much loved by the bumblebees and other bees. These plants will provide fertilizer and mulch to the rest of my plants for many years to come.


The chili pepper plants did not like the heavy rain at all. I think they were almost ready to call the whole thing off when the rain let up. My husband planted some early Anaheims that already have recognizable chilis on them. My poblano chilis are farther behind, with just a few tiny buds promising fruit. With luck, the plants will get weather they like better in the next two months. I'm hoping for a large harvest so that I can smoke some of the poblanos, thus turning them into ancho chilis. When fully dried, I'll try making my own ancho chili powder, like Hank did. This mild but flavorful spice makes it into a large portion of the meals I prepare.


One of the two varieties of soup bean that I planned to grow this year failed entirely. But the Cherokee Trail of Tears bean (which I also grew last year) did better. I've since learned that light colored beans in general are more susceptible to ground rot than dark colored beans. As it happens, the Cherokee Trail of Tears is a jet black bean, while the Hutterite Soup is a creamy pale bean. So I guess it's no surprise that one did much better than the other with all the rain we had. Nonetheless, I'm trying again with a different pale bean - the Flagrano, a flageolet type. Show above are some Cherokee Trail of Tears growing on one of the bean tripods I made with that bamboo we harvested early this year. This is an evening shot so the vines are shaded. But they're growing well. And look what they're sheltering behind there:


-My next crop of spinach. The beans will keep the worst of the heat off these little sprouts, which like cool temperatures.


Here is my experiment with potatoes this year. There are rumors of prodigious yields from individual potato plants if they are kept well hilled as they grow. Most of my potatoes are planted in trenches about 8" deep. Each time the plant gets 5"-6" of growth above the soil line, I bury them a bit more. But I can only hill so far before I run out of loose soil to mound around them. Thus the bucket experiment. Not only is it trivially easy to continue mounding a potato plant in a bucket, but harvest will be as easy as dumping the entire bucket into the wheelbarrow. No-dig potatoes!

Some people claim that only late season potatoes will yield significantly more if well hilled. Some say potato plants set all the tubers they will develop before they flower, and that hilling beyond that point is wasted effort. A few of my trenched potatoes are already flowering, so the hilling there is done. In the buckets I have German Butterballs, the only late season variety I'm growing this year, though I have German Butterballs in the ground as well. They haven't yet flowered, but the buckets are already completely full of dirt. I recorded the weight of the seed stock for these individual plants, so we'll see how they yield. Incidentally, the potatoes in the buckets didn't seem bothered in the least by the heavy rains, while those in the ground started to look a bit sulky. I drilled several drainage holes in each bucket before planting.


My Tuscan kale plants, which for two years have been very reliable and vigorous producers, just aren't growing for me this year. They were badly damaged by the slugs and then hammered by the rain. They don't seem to be bouncing back at all. On the other hand, the Brussels sprouts I put in a week ago where the garlic had just been harvested, just a few feet away from the kale, seem to be doing quite well. I'm going to try again with new seedlings of kale and some Savoy cabbage, hoping for a good fall crop. Tuscan kale has been a mainstay of our diet for the last two years, especially over the winter months. The prospect of no kale harvest this year is worrisome.


I'm quite the curmudgeon when it comes to flowers in the garden. It had better have some utility beyond looking pretty if it wants a spot in the best growing area on our property. Oddly, my husband likes pretty things just for the sake of beauty more than I do. Fortunately, flower mixes attract polinators and predator insects, so I will cede some territory to him for his pretty stuff. He drastically overseeded his allotment with all sorts of flowers. They are just about ready to explode into bloom. These are a few of the earliest blossoms. It should be quite a show in another week or so. I don't even know what's in there, but I hope some are perennials or accomplished self-seeders.


This is a small patch of the fall cover crop we planted last year that escaped destruction. It's a mix of hairy vetch (purple blooms) and rye (drooping grain heads) that we decided to let go, just to see what it would do. Turns out that hairy vetch is one of the few plants that harbor the minute pirate bug, a voracious predator. The rye looks like it's nearing maturity. Maybe we'll harvest a few stalks and see how the grain threshes out.


Finally, a mystery bug. Anyone know what this tiny iridescent orange - fly? wasp? - is that I found on a corn leaf this morning? There are a lot of them around, but I've never seen them munching on any plant. So my guess is that it's a predator of some sort.

Independence Days Challenge - Daikon Edition

Time for another Independence Days report. You can play along at home too.

Since reading the wonderful book on homescale permaculture, Gaia's Garden, I've been intrigued by the idea of growing some daikon. The author, Toby Hemenway, mentioned the ingenious idea to grow these long, deeply rooted Asian radishes entirely for the purpose of soil improvement. If you have very poor or compacted soil, the mature roots of the daikon can simply be left in the soil to rot. They will add a column of organic matter to the soil while working to break up heavy clay and improve drainage. I absolutely love the permaculture concepts of using the inherent qualities or behaviors of plants to further human goals. It's similar to the way I put the chickens to work clearing new beds for gardening, or just weeding a recently harvested bed before replanting. Letting the diakon do the work of soil improvement is far less disruptive to the subterranean environment than tilling. All the soil based microorganisms aren't disturbed, and buried weed seeds don't get a free ride to the surface where they're likely to germinate.

Beyond that, I've been all itchy and scratchy to try making the Chinese "turnip cake" dish, which is actually made with radishes, and I'm guessing it's not those dainty French breakfast radishes, but the more substantial daikon type. So I got some late season daikon seed, and have been champing at the bit to plant them, even though I should really wait a month. In my typical jump the gun fashion, I decided to plant a few seeds each week from now till the end of August. We'll see which row looks best when it's time to harvest.

I plan to put some daikons for soil improvement under our apple tree, where we plan to put a permaculture bed in place next year. The soil there gets too much rain runoff from the back of our garage, which for some reason never had a rain gutter installed. Very damaged soil under there, but a permaculture bed should heal it, and a rain catchment system is in on our list.

Anyhow, on to the Independence Days report:

Planted - More kale since my kale plants seem to be going absolutely nowhere this year, some parsley and rosemary seedlings that I picked up at the farmer's market for a song, the aforementioned daikons, a few more okra seeds since the seedlings look like they haven't enjoyed all the rain we've had this month. Some flageolet beans to replace the Hutterite soup beans which don't seem to have made it. It's a bit late to be planting beans, but if we're lucky with the timing of the first fall frost, I may see a good yield. Other work in the garden includes more lasagna mulching, hilling the potatoes and leeks, chopping back the exuberant comfrey for green manure, and of course weeding.

Harvested - Clipped a bunch of oregano to hang and dry, Greek-fashion. I harvested about two cups of lemon balm leaves to make an experimental batch of homemade soda. Still eating salad from the garden, and eggs from our ever-reliable girls. Between a late frost in May and torrential June, our springtime yields just haven't been at all what I had hoped for. The garlic already harvested has another week of drying before I trim it up, clean it, weigh it, and select the best bulbs for re-planting before storing the remainder. I'm now harvesting some of my bolting lettuce plants for the chickens. Mostly these are regrowth from heads that were cut earlier, so I don't feel there's much waste there. The girls relish these daily treats.

Preserved - Said bundle of oregano for drying. Not much else.

Waste not - Nothing new here. Same old recycling, etc. But if it counts, I've been managing with fans instead of any AC so far this summer. I'm surprised how much my body has acclimated to warmer sleeping temperatures. I really like to sleep in a cold room with heavy blankets.

Preparation/Storage - Nothing much to report here. Got a book on bean dishes out of the library. I'm looking for ideas to incorporate more of them into our diet. Since we can grow our own soup beans, this could and should be an extremely cheap cornerstone food for us. I just need to figure out how to make that happen. Baked beans aren't going to do it, damn our culinary standards.

Community - I finally made it to the third week of the closest farmer's market. Three of the vendors I was most likely to buy from have moved on to other markets. But there are still nice looking fruits and veggies available.

I missed the scheduled Plant a Row drop-off at the food bank this past week. I may try to make up for it this week. I can certainly spare some lettuce, and the hot weather out there isn't doing them any good.

At a dinner with some friends last night I brought up the Transition movement. I tried to explain what it was and felt I didn't do a very good job of it. I'm intrigued by the possibilities of working at a very local level to prepare for an energy-scarce future. But even when talking to people who were already quite receptive to the concepts, I don't feel well equipped to teach and share ideas. It's not that I'm uncomfortable speaking - I've gotten over my fear of speaking publicly and formally. I just don't feel like I have enough of a handle on the issues to explain clearly or convince anyone.

Eat the food - That homemade lemon balm soda? I got the idea from a couple articles over at Herb Mentor, where they discuss blueberry soda and popsicles made from lemon balm and honey. Since I had neither popsicle molds nor patience, I improvised wildly. It turned out alright, but a little grassy tasting. I was curious how it might differ if I used dried lemon balm. My plants are new and thus small this year. So I'll have to wait for more growth before trying a second batch. I think I preferred my batch of ginger ale, which wasn't homegrown in the least.

I brought the worst looking garlic right inside to the kitchen and have been salvaging what I could of it. Still eating homemade bread (baked in cooler months) from the chest freezer. Also made a cherry clafouti with our own eggs and sour cherries from the farmer's market.

So what's up in your neck of the woods? How does your garden grow?

Austerity Parties

I've got another post up at the Simple, Green, Frugal Co-op. It's about a cheap way of entertaining while celebrating and even embracing frugality. Click below to have a wander over there.


Have a great weekend, everyone.

Tiny Tip: More Sunlight in Your Garden

Okay, this is an old familiar gardening trick. But as with all old familiar things, it's bound to be new to someone. Sunlight, water, and good soil are the fundamentals of growing productive and healthy plants. A few people are blessed with just the right amount of all of these. Others have to struggle a bit to get enough or to moderate an abundance of one or the other. If you're trying to grow in an area that gets less sun than is ideal, here's an easy partial fix.

Take those automobile sunshades that were all the rage a few years back, and put them at the end of your garden that faces the sun. This will reflect whatever light you do get back to your garden, so the plants have two chances to make use of any sunlight that comes their way. If you're in the northern hemisphere, position the screen at the north end of your garden, with the reflector facing south. In the southern hemisphere, put it at the south end of your garden, facing north.

These things were turning up at yardsales for next to nothing for a while there. Not sure if they are anymore. If you can't turn one up for a few cents, you could always make your own reflector with aluminum foil and a few pieces of cardboard. Be sure to leave the shinier side of the foil facing out if you do so. And if you happen to have any large unwanted mirrors hanging out in the garage, those would work best of all. Tomato plants, incidentally, love these things. I suspect tomatoes would actually be happiest growing in a tanning bed that was turned on 24/7.

Got any oldie but goodie garden tips? Share them in the comments, please!

Salvaging the Garlic

I had not planned to spend this morning salvaging what I could of my garlic crop. The month of June has simply hammered us with rain. We've had nearly an inch of rain in the last 24 hours, and as of yesterday we were at 230% of our average monthly rainfall-to-date. It's supposed to rain again today, and more rain is predicted for Wednesday. There's no sun in the forecast. I've put up with this crazy weather without complaint for more than two weeks now. But I am getting to the point where I simply cannot believe that the rain continues. It's surreal. We have mushrooms growing all over our lawn. I mean, it has to end sometime, doesn't it?

Might be hard to see the yellowed tips in this image, but they're there. Click to biggify.

Saturday evening was my tip off that something was not right with the garlic plants. The leaves of garlic are supposed to dry out and wither sequentially from the oldest, outermost leaves to the youngest, innermost leaves; in other words, from the ground up. When I went to shut the hens in for the night, I could see that the tips of the highest leaves were yellowed and wilted. This was not good news. Each leaf on a garlic plant corresponds to one papery layer around the bulb. If the leaves and papery layers rot, the bulb is left naked in the ground and subject to all sorts of fungal infections and other unpleasantness. It also means that even if the bulb makes it out of the ground, it will have no protection during storage. In garlic, you want plenty of papery layers around the bulb.

I chose one of the worst looking plants to dig up, to see how bad it looked. It was small, but it mostly looked alright. The outermost layer on the bulb was definitely a loss, but the other ones might make it if I harvested now and managed to dry the bulbs properly. Not all that easy given our 100% humidity levels. It was a tough call, and I wished I had more years of growing experience to draw on. (Experience is something you get after you need it.) Clearly the plants were distressed, but not yet badly damaged. If I left them in the ground they might survive and get to full size. Or they might rot and the crop might fail entirely. The forecast is definitely not in our favor. I decided to cut my losses, and get four of the six varieties out of the ground immediately. My husband helped with the harvest, and we left the two varieties in place that seem the least affected. It drizzled while we worked.

Right now, I have some garlic bulbs, even if they are much smaller than I'd like them to be at harvest. Our clay soil is completely saturated with water, though the uppermost layers have been well enriched with compost. Given the ongoing water torture that has been June in these parts, I was afraid these four varieties would yield nothing if I put off the harvest. I'm not happy about this. But that's how gardening works. I'll watch and wait with the other two varieties. I'm just glad this isn't my livelihood. While I would resent it hugely, I could afford to buy my garlic. Losing this crop would suck, but it would only mean losing my homegrown supply and my seed stock for this fall. Farmers raising garlic in my area could be in real trouble. Not that this is a major garlic producing area. And of course, they might also have taken more elaborate measures to ensure drainage in particularly wet years.

It's going to be even tougher this year to set aside the best bulbs for planting stock. Most of the bulbs are small now and will only get smaller as they dry down. The few decent sized bulbs are all going to have to be replanted in October. Looks like we'll be using tiny bulbs of garlic this year.

The garlic, set out to dry in our garage. You can see some of the yellow leaf tips a little better here.

For the most part, other plants in the garden seem to be holding their own. But the tips of a few potato leaves are ever so slightly turning yellow. Another root crop in trouble. I hope they make it. I planted ten pounds altogether of four different varieties. The basil, eggplant, and peppers seem to be having the next worst time of things. The basil and eggplant especially are simply not growing. The peppers look pale and small although a few have tiny little peppers on them already. They all need some hot, dry, scorching days to make them happy. I don't know when we'll have any of those. So far, the tomatoes don't seem to mind the rain, and the little okra seedlings seem to be okay, even though they are now in the shade (or would be if there were any sun) of some mushrooms growing in the wood chip mulch all around them. The melons and squash are very small, but they seem to be surviving. The raised mounds they're planted in probably help. The beans, popcorn, lettuce and spinach haven't minded the cool damp at all, so far as I can tell. The parsnips seem to be loving the rain from what the leaves are telling me.

More garlic posts
The Promise of Garlic
Garlic Harvest
The Limits of Garlic

Other People’s Fruit

Today I have another guest post from my husband, who, as you will see, is slowly (but surely) being infected with the gardening/homesteading virus. Here's what he's been up to lately.

I was tracking down where heavy rain run-off goes when it leaves our property. What I found was a mini-river in my next door neighbor’s back yard. As I walked downstream I also discovered ripe mulberries in my neighbor’s tree. Here was mature fruit that if left un-harvested would merely become dinner for the local birds. Mulberries are often planted near other more desirable fruits as the birds go after the mulberries first.

So I began harvesting the unwanted berries thinking they would be tasty treats for our three chickens. After spending time harvesting around two pints of berries I began thinking far more selfishly. Why relinquish them to birds that go bonkers for flavorless wild strawberries when mulberries would make a nice treat for humans? So I gathered some wild strawberries, gave a strawberry thrill to our hens, and took the mulberries inside for cleaning.


I was interested in making some jam or even thick syrup. Confession time: On a recent business trip I met a friend at an IHOP just before flying out. It was a convenient location for the both of us; certainly not a culinary pinnacle. But in their defense they do serve tea in teapots. So they get props for that. But the point is that they offer a high-fructose, artificially flavored (courtesy of our flavor chemist industry), berry-ish syrup. I wanted home-made pancakes with real berry syrup. And now, presented with the opportunity, I pulled out the pectin and began something I have never done before…make jam from berries.

I love this type of cooking where there is ambiguity and winging-it is the order of the day. So I read the directions on the pectin packet then embarked on some exploratory cooking. Berries have no natural pectin unlike other fruits. So adding is necessary to get it to gel. I more or less used the recommended amount of sugar and, on the advice of my wife, added lemon juice. The lemon juice really brought out the fruit flavor and added the brightness of citrus.

The instructions for my quick method indicated that after adding the pectin a period of 24 hours was needed for proper setting. I was only prepared to wait about 8 hours until breakfast rolled around. The result was less jam than thick syrup on its way to jam. This was perfect for pancakes. Mulberries tend to have less flavor than other berries. But the jam syrup on pancakes was well received by all.


At the 24 hour mark the jam syrup had not set any more than at the 8 hour mark. But I had achieved something I’d never done. Delayed gratification of stuffing ripe berries straight into my mouth, turning it into jam syrup and scratching the pancake itch with someone else’s unwanted fruit. It was a satisfying feeling.

So now I keep an eye out for unappreciated fruit that could become my treasure. All this for nothing more than some enjoyable harvesting and cooking. I’ve already found another stand of mulberries on their way to ripeness. Perhaps this time I’ll get full-on jam with a bit more pectin. Other people’s fruit…hurrah!

Kate again: I really like the flavor profile of this gleaned treat. It's sort of spicy and dark, with hints of cinnamon and fig. A nice thing to have on hand when a sweet craving strikes. My husband's other guest post can be found here: Homemade Sled Report.