Category Archives: Garden

Garden Diary: Beginning of the Soil Drenches and Foliar Sprays

Summer                                                            New (First Harvest) Moon

When we installed the landscaping, we asked for low maintenance.  I still remember the skeptical look on Merle’s face.  “Well, I can make it lower maintenance, but there’s no such thing as no maintenance.”  In those first years I deadheaded, sprayed Miracle Gro, pruned the roses and planted a few bulbs.

Gradually, the land drew me in and I got more interested in perennials of all kinds bulbs, corms, tubers and root stock.  Fall became (and remains) a ritual of planting perennials, most often bulbs.  Fall finds me on a kneeler, making my prayer not to the Virgin Mary but to the decidedly unvirgin earth.  Receive these my gifts and nourish them.  And yes, I agree to help raise them.

Kate always planted a few vegetables but at some point we merged interests and expanded our vegetable garden.  That was when organic gardening, permaculture and now biodynamics began to interest us.  We futz around using some organic ideas like compost and integrated pest management, some permaculture design with plant guilds and productive spaces closest to the building that supports them and now some biodynamics (or whatever the right term is).

As I understand it, biodynamics works to produce the highest nutrient value in food by moving the soil towards sustainable fertility. This requires applications of various kinds of chemicals, yes, but in such a way as to increase the soil’s capacity to grow healthy, nutritious food and to do that in a way that maintains the soil’s fertility from year to year.

This is very different from modern ag which has a take it out and put it back approach to soil nutrients.  In that approach modern ag focuses on nutrients that produce crops good for harvest and the farmer and food company’s economics, not the end consumer’s dietary needs.  Biodynamics works at a subtler level, looking at the whole package of rare earths and other minerals necessary for healthy plants and the kind of soil conditions that optimize the plants capacity to access them.

Today I did a nutrient drench called Perk-Up.  A nutrient drench goes onto the soil and encourages optimal soil conditions, a large proportion is liquified fish oil and protein.  I also sprayed on the leaves and stalks of all the reproductively focused vegetables a product called brix blaster which encourages the plants to focus their energy on producing flowers and fruit.

The whole vegetable garden got Perk-up.  The reproductive vegetables in our garden are:  tomatillos, tomatoes, eggplant, peppers, sugar snap peas, cucumbers and, for some reason, carrots plus all the fruits.  I only sprayed the vegetables since the strawberries have just finished bearing and I haven’t decided whether or not to spray the orchard this year.  Since I made up more than I needed, I also sprayed all the lilies which are heading into their prime blooming weeks just now, plus a few other miscellaneous flowers blooming or about to bloom.

Tomorrow I will spray another product that encourages vegetative growth on the appropriate vegetables:  kale, onions, chard, beets, garlic and leeks.

This year my overall goal has been to jump up a level in the production of vegetables, increasing both quantity and quality without increasing the area planted.  Next year I’ll continue what I already think is a successful program for them and expand to the fruits and, maybe, at least some of the flowers.

As I’ve said elsewhere, horticulture is a language and it takes time to learn.  The plants and the soil speak to me all the time.  I’ve had to immerse myself in a lot of different disciplines to learn their language.  I’m not a native speaker, nor am I completely fluent but I’m well past the beginner stage.

 

 

Mr. Toad and the Rubber Pond

Summer                                                                         Solstice Moon

Fall beets and carrots in the ground.  Mid-summer chard and kale harvested along with some beets.  The nectar flow is on for the bees, the harvest flow has begun for the kitchen.  It’s steady now until we close down the garden.

Outside we have a wide rubber bucket we use for outdoor water for the dogs in the summer.  At least that’s our intended use of it.  Both Gertie and Vega prefer to see it as a doggy bath cum air conditioner.  So, we fill it up.  They empty it according to Archimedes and his bathtub.

Today, when I went to fill it up once again, I noticed a toad in the water. He’d jumped into the pond, but it’s nearly straight up and down sides were far too high for him to climb out.  I gave him the ride of his life, slowly lifting the water level until he scrambled up on the edge.  After achieving his goal, he sat there, surveying, no doubt wondering what caused the water level in this pond to change so quickly.

 

 

Working At Home

Summer                                                                      Solstice Moon

The revision of Missing has picked up some momentum.  The Loft class canceled and I’m not doing Latin in the late afternoon, so I can capture all that time.  Staying in the flow with it helps a lot, too, as does having gotten into the second half of the manuscript.  I have a clear vision now of what I want to change and how to guide the narrative, so it’s easier than at first where I decided on material to cut out, changes in certain characters and storylines.

Today is the beginning of the second phase of the gardening season, fall planting.  I’ll put in kale, chard, carrots and beets which we’ll harvest in September.   This has been a satisfying season already and appears likely to continue.  Foliar sprays and drenches tomorrow.

The Beginning of the End of Summer

Summer                                                             Solstice Moon

July 4th is the midpoint of summer for me.  It’s not in terms of the calendar or meteorology, but in my visceral sense of times ongoingness, the one that tells me when I am, I now am between the 4th and Labor Day.  I suppose that harkens back to school days when there would be the 4th of July parade, then Labor Day marked the beginning of school.  What remains is a vestigial feeling that the next big thing to happen is the ringing of school bells.

(that’s me, second from the left on the first row)

The school bell has long ago faded and even the summer pace of work is gone, for me now almost 25 years.  Yet that sense that summer has reached its climax and now speeds its way toward the denouement still sends its signals.  The garden does pick up speed now with plants maturing, more and more vegetables ripening, fruit, too.  The arc of the garden though does not know Labor Day, does not have a building and a bell in its lexicon.  It knows the growing season, the gradual warming, then cooling of the daytime and nighttime temperatures.

With Latin on hold I’ve begun to work outside a bit more regularly since I no longer feel as crunched for time in the mornings.  That means I can participate more fully in the garden’s life.  Many garden plants, especially vegetables, run through their entire life cycle during the growing season, going from seed to stalk to leaves to fruit, then senescence.  The school year that I inherited was one sensitive to this rhythm.  It allowed the kids to come home from school during the months their labor was crucial on the farm, during the height of the growing season.  The need for that passed long ago as the number of family farms has steadily declined.

Yet like my inner sense of time the school system continues on, its memory of the days of the family farm institutionally intact.

 

The Fruits of July

Summer                                                                             Solstice Moon

A cooler morning beckons.  Mummies to pluck off the cherry and plum trees.  I’m going for manual disease control of a fungus peculiar to stone fruits, brown rot.  The best way to cope with it is good hygiene, i.e. cleaning up infected fruits after they fall.

I’m going to try to get ahead of this by picking infected fruit off the tree before they fall to the ground.  Moisture and heat, especially as the fruit ripens increases the spread of brown rot so removing the fruit early should help.  I can do this because I only have four effected trees, two cherry and two plum.  This would not be effective for a larger operation.

A week or so of consistent warmth, if not exactly summer heat, should boost growth.  A week from today I begin the next phase of the International Ag labs program.  I’m looking forward to completing the year, then having a full year with it next year.

Here’s a fruit gallery from our orchard on July 1st:

 

Blueberries

Pears

Apples in a bag

Elderberries

Plums

Currants

 

Quince

 

 

Old Movies and Herbs

Summer                                                            Solstice Moon

Kate and I watched an old Sherlock Holmes movie, Murder by Decree, with a young Christopher Plummer as Holmes and James Mason as Watson.  Mason yes.  Plummer, unfortunately, no.  Not brooding or angular enough.  Basil Rathbone is better.

While watching we plucked oregano leaves for the dryer.  Kate has already frozen rhubarb and several cups of strawberries.  The harvest is well underway and will continue at one level or another through the latter part of September.

In the aches and pains department:  knee, bad last year, much improved, rarely gives problems.  back, normal now, after a very painful late April and May.  left shoulder, vast improvement, not better, but I can see return to normalcy.  and now, ta dah, just as the left shoulder has begun to heal, the right elbow.  Ouch.  Some form of tendinitis, I’m sure.  It seems as if there is a rhythmic pattern here: knee, back, shoulder, elbow.  A concrete, perhaps a skeletal poem.

The Garden This Time

Summer                                                                                         Solstice Moon

Since Friday night, we’ve seen explosive growth in our tomatillos and tomatoes.  It seems impossible, but I’m pretty sure the tomatillos gained 6 inches almost overnight.  The tomatoes both rocketed up and produced blooms.  We have fruits on both.  Not many, but some.  We’ve also been harvesting strawberries all week.

Carrot thinning, a task today, proved difficult on one row because tiny ants on both row ends felt disturbed by all the pulling.  They climbed onto my hands, up my arms, down my legs and onto my neck.  Nothing harmful about them, but they felt creepy.  Even so, I got all the carrots thinned.  Some beets have begun to mature, not ready yet, but they’re close.

The garlic crop, a diminished one as I’ve reported here before, also went from no scapes on Friday to scapes I could harvest on Saturday.  I’ve not done anything to the plants except for the initial broadcast and the jubilee and transplant water on the transplants.  The nutrient drenches and foliar sprays start next week.

My opinion of this year’s harvest potential has grown more positive.  The garlic, which I would have already harvested in years past, should be ready in the next week to ten days. It has brown up three leaves from the ground, then I’ll pull it.  The leeks and onions both look good.

 

Svalbard

Summer                                                                            Solstice Moon

Friend Tom Crane and his wife Roxann are going polar.  Not bi polar, but north polar, getting all the way to the 78th parallel.  Pretty damned far north when you consider the pole itself is 90 degrees north.  On a long list of populated areas by latitude there are only three closer to the north pole and I’m guessing they’re not the kind of places you’d go to get lost in.

(Svalbard in brown on a polar projection.)

Two years ago Kate and I visited Ushuaia, Argentina, the fin del mundo, as it bills itself.  It’s where expeditions for Antarctica set forth.  By contrast it is only at the 68th parallel, a full 10 degrees closer to the equator than Svalbard.

This is one lonely location, though it’s not as isolated, interestingly, as the Hawai’ian islands.  But, I’ll bet when you’re there, it feels more isolated.  Tom says he’s drawn to this trip by the very high caliber naturalists who are along to give lectures and guide.

Svalbard came to my attention, as perhaps to yours, not as a tourist destination for an Arctic experience, but as the home of the Svalbard Seed Vault.

(The entrance and the portion under glass were designed by Norwegian artist, Dyveke Sannes.)

What is it?  Here’s a quick explanation from their website:

“The Svalbard Global Seed Vault, which is established in the permafrost in the mountains of Svalbard, is designed to store duplicates of seeds from seed collections around the globe. Many of these collections are in developing countries. If seeds are lost, e.g. as a result of natural disasters, war or simply a lack of resources, the seed collections may be reestablished using seeds from Svalbard.”

Here are two typically nordic answers as to why they chose this location, especially the last sentence of reason 2.

1. Svalbard, as Norwegian territory, enjoys security and political and social stability. Norway understands the importance of preserving Svalbard as an area of undisturbed nature, which is now an important research and reference area. The seed vault fits ideally into this concept.

2.  Svalbard has an isolated position far out in the ocean, between 74° and 81° N and only 1000 kilometres from the North Pole. The archipelago is characterised by an undisturbed nature. Permafrost provides stable storage conditions for seeds. Besides which there is little risk of local dispersion of seed.

 

 

When the heat is on

Summer                                                                                 Solstice Moon

Wandered out to the garden, picked a few hot strawberries, felt the Solstice sun on my bare head and retreated.  Dew point is down to 68, but the temperature was at 87 earlier.  Hot for us.

Working on Missing.  Still plugging my way through the revision.  Sometimes it’s fun; sometimes it’s work.  Sometimes it’s just something I’m doing.  Today was the last.  Having to add in some material I fail to expand will be more fun.  Gonna do that now.

 

A Thinnin’ and A Mulchin’

Summer                                                                        Solstice Moon

After the cold and the gray comes the bright and the damp.  81 degrees already at 9:30 am with a dewpoint of 75.  That’s well beyond uncomfortable, which begins at 60.  Mulching the new lily and iris bed along with the areas Kate weeded last week followed by thinning the beets on the third tier left me with as much outside exposure as I wanted.

Looks like we’ll get some rain today.  A good thing since the electricity outage in the garage has crippled my irrigation clock.  No clock, no water other than rain.  That’s on the get it fixed list.  Soon.

We’ve entered the rapid growth phase of the growing season, with the nectar flow ready to begin next week.  The compressed season makes for exaggerated rhythms, a feature of the northern garden. Like Chinese cooking, preparation is 90% of the ingredients needed to succeed.

Javier will come by some time in the next few days to price out mulch and weed suppression for the orchard and mulch for the vegetable bed paths.