The key to everything

I started out the year right even if plenty is going wrong. I made up a diagram in Adobe Illustrator that laid out the garden beds, and assigned labels to them. Then I made a Microsoft Word document that was the precursor to this blog. In that document I have a table that lists what went where in that diagram:

- A: Mammoth Organic Sunflowers
- B: Pumpkin - Big Max and Golden Mammoth
- C: Strawberries
- D: Black Beauty Eggplants
- E: Organic Sweet California Wonder Bell Peppers
- F: Black Krim Organic and Mortgage Lifter Tomatoes
- G: Italian Rose Beans
- H: Burpeeana Early Peas
- I: Purple Dragon Carrots
- J: Banana Cantaloupe Melon/Sweet N Early Cantaloupe hybrid
- K: Garlic
- L: Zucchini

Well. A lot has changed since then. In fact, D, F, G, H, I, J, K and L are not as listed. Most of those changes are because things didn’t work out as planned.

D: Well, I planted Black Beauty eggplants in peat pots. They sprouted, but I probably needed to water them twice a day to keep them as wet as they needed to be to be strong. Then I planted them out too early and the hail and slugs nixed the 3 that were left. I wound up buying a 6 pack from OSH and planting those instead. And the bed is half inhabited by onions planted by the people who owned the house before me. I am not sure what to do with them... I will let them flower and die down, I guess. Then I’ll pull ‘em. I may try to save seed just for the halibut.

F: Tomatoes. Well it’s been a wheelin’ and dealin’ time in the tomato patch. I can’t even remember what I planted from my own seed vs. what I bought and put in the ground. I do know what Dave gave me because I labeled them clearly. The things that Dave didn’t give me are all either Mortgage Lifter or Black Krim varieties. Mortgage Lifter is resistant to both Verticulum and Fusarium wilt, Black Krim is only resistant to Fusarium. I am hoping this is totally irrelevant information despite the fact that one tomato plant just up and died, totally wilted to the ground for no obvious reason, and two more look a bit wilty despite adequate watering. It would really bum me out given the number of solanaceous crops I’ve got growing. At the far end of this bed I also planted the two spinaches from Dave.

G: Well, I did a whole lot more than just Italian Rose Beans. Baby Yak brought home kidney bean seedlings from school and I felt like I had to plant them out. And I planted an entire mess of fava beans that I grew from seed. The last have entirely dominated the area. I also planted two broccolis from Dave at the far end. And there’s a load of parsley from the previous owners. I transplanted some of that to just outside my kitchen door, but I don’t have the heart to rip out what’s left just yet. Maybe after the kitchen parsley area is better established I’ll feel differently.

H: The Burpeeana Early peas I grew from seed did well, but it seemed like a pretty meager number, so I bought a dozen Caseload seedlings to supplement. They are now all growing vigorously, and I don’t really know where the Burpeeana ends and the Caseloads begin. I also planted the lettuce from Dave down by the end, and two hollyhocks, just because I love them.

I: Purple Dragon carrots are indeed planted in this bed, but about half the bed is also Bulls Blood beets. I’m terrified to pull these up despite the fact that I think they’re ready. I’m hoping to dress the soil tomorrow with nematodes so that I don’t have to do the horrified maggot dance.

J: The cantaloupe did miserably - actually all but one died. That one is eking out a living in the corner, and I just decided to supplement with a Jenny Lind variety. The rest of the bed is planted with Burpless cukes, but they’re not much better off than the dead cantaloupes.

K: Garlic was an honest appellation for this bed up until last week. It had all died down, and now it’s time to plant something new since I pulled the garlic. I decided on two different varieties of blueberry on the suggestion of my friend Miyuki. The two varieties idea was given to me by the guy at Sloat Gardens... he said you need two to get a better yield due to cross-pollination.

L: This bed is mostly zucchini, but I had forgotten about a bunch of carrot seedlings I had started in seed pots so I squeezed them in here. I put those in the ground along the edge of this bed closest to K. I now think the direct sown carrots do better, but I didn’t know what the heck I was doing so I was experimenting with both transplanted and direct sown to see which fared better. Radishes are being grown (with maggots) in a triangular bed that is right up against this bed but separated by a row of bricks.

So that’s a fairly comprehensive State of the Garden.

Pumpkin iron...

I suppose it’s as good a time as any for a recap of the whole garden.

Starting with Bed A: Mammoth Sunflowers. I have 3 growing after much tribulation. (I have come to realize that the problem was planting seeds in peat pots that dry out too quickly. Reusable plastic pots are better.) The center one is huge because it was the sole survivor of the 1st round. One of the other two is largely shaded by this one, so I am not sure how it will fare.

Bed B: Pumpkins. I am genuinely shocked to find that those guys (Big Max and Golden Mammoth) are doing well. There are flowers, and lo and behold, even wee little pumpkins on those vines. Those vines are as thick as my big toe and as hairy as Mr. Yak’s big toe. They’re a crawlin’ through my garden growling... “Yo cut worms... wanna piece of me NOW?”

Bed C: Strawberries. There are berries in droves, but it’s a matter of getting to them before the birds do. But if I have to share my food, I don’t mind sharing it with finches and other songbirds.

Bed D: Onions and eggplants. Well the onions have been on the verge of flowering for about 3 weeks now. It could be any day. By the size of the flower heads, I am expecting major drama when they open. The eggplants seem to be hanging in there. Unlike their evidently more finicky sisters to their left, they have doubled or even tripled in size since I planted them. That’s not exactly spectacular, but at least it isn’t dead, or “I wish I were dead.”

Bed E: Oh my lord what an uptight bunch of prissies we have in this bed. I planted California Wonder peppers in this bed and you’d think I’d done something gauche, like plant them in Oregon or Nevada or something. They are just sitting there, doing nothing. They’re not getting bigger. They’re not even dying. Nothing. And yes I’ve fed them and watered them. Losers.

Bed F: Tomatoes. I have no idea which ones are which anymore, and one just up and died on me overnight for no obvious reason. But the others have been doing pretty well, and are mostly much larger than when I put them in the ground.

Bed G: Beans. Note to self, favas are ridiculous. Seriously, I have Mount Fava Bean growing in this bed. I planted Italian Rose and kidneys in the same bed and those poor guys don’t stand a chance against these favas. And you know what? Favas don’t really grow like other beans do. They have these thick stalks that say “Support? Shapport. Shaddup already.” No tendrils no nuthin’. I do have beans on those scrawny Italian rose plants, though. I think I’ll just let them dry on the vine for now.

Bed H: Shelling peas! I love peas. And my pea plants are producing. In fact, I need to go pick them before they become starchy.

Okay I don’t have time to do the whole garden. I will have to do part deux.

Mine's bigger'n yours

So this weekend we harvested our first carrot. We felt much trepidation due to our last go round with root maggots. It turns out that our purple dragon carrots did not suffer the same fate. Good thing, too. Maggoty purple dragon carrots conjure up images of zombie vegetable dinosaurs, and I don’t need any more cast members for my nightmares.

We were rather excited to cut this up and try it out. And doesn’t it look cool! It was marketed as purple on the outside with the color bleeding in to the center, with an orange core. Our sample had the purple limited to just the surface, and it was really quite on the red side of purple. Sad to say, the carrot looked better than it tasted. Yes, it was large, but it was also woody. I know guys have a hard time (see what I did there?) understanding that this is ever a bad thing, but when it comes to carrots, woody is bad. One silver lining is that this does confirm what Dave was saying about inconsistent watering. The Burpee Complete Vegetable & Herb Gardener book says woody tasteless carrots are usually the result of inconsistent soil conditions. (That is a fabulous book, by the way. NAYY.)

I wonder if that also explains my tasteless jokes? Carrots in bad taste, and that taste bad. And I know... this is a Mother Carey’s Chicken. If the strain of gardening is already bringing me to bawdy carrot jokes, ’tis an ill wind a-blowin’.

All set for garlic, I think

When Guru Dave took his Grand Tour of My Garden, he told me that the garlic that had been planted in bed K had been there more than one growing season, and would not likely produce any garlic of cooking value. But he said it was not a total loss. I could let the greens wither about 2/3rds of the way, pull the bulbs (which would most likely be small and useless for cooking), dry them, refrigerate them for two weeks and plant them again. That second planting ought to produce decent bulbs.

So I waited. And by yesterday, those bulbs were all 2/3rds of the way withered and lying down. So I pulled them all, and got a huge heap of garlic... and none of the bulbs were over an inch across. I spent a lot of time getting off the muck and the dirt by brushing them gently with my fingers. I had left some in the ground too long. But even with those losses, I am up to my ears in mini garlic. I noticed that some of the greens had a bit of orange to them - I think this means I should not plant them in the same bed next time. In fact, I think I will wait until the traditional planting time for garlic, which is mid-to-late fall, to replant these.

I tied up the garlic in bundles and hung them off of brooms and mops on an unused garage door rail, because everywhere I read up on garlic it says to dry them suspended in a cool darker location with good air circulation. So now my garage smells like Gilroy and looks like a Garlic Coma movie set.

Does anyone want any garlic sets? I’ve got more than I can use.

The Nematode Song

The Nematode Song
... to the Underdog theme song tune

When maggots in your beds appear
and slugs don’t go for your cheap beer,
and bugs frighten all who see or hear
the cry goes up both far and near
for Nematodes! Nematodes! Nematodes! Nematodes!

Raaaather squiggly, small and ugly
Yet they eat things even more unlovely,
Nematodes! Nematodes!

When in your garden weevils breed
and on your veggies beetles feed
the gnats beget with blinding speed
we’ll fix it all with roundworm greed
go Nematodes! Nematodes! Nematodes! Nematodes!

Raaaather squiggly, small and ugly
Yet they eat things even more unlovely,
Nematodes! Nematodes!

Words of the wise

Guru Dave wrote back to me promptly. And this is what he said...

Inconsistent watering causes cracking and splitting at the surface of root vegetables. The flesh around those cracks becomes unhealthy, and Mother Nature sends in her “recyclers” to clean up the problem, in much the way that maggots can be used for wound care. This problem becomes even more likely the larger the roots grow or if the roots are grown in conditions that do not allow wounds to heal (i.e. high clay content in the soil that promotes anaerobic bacterial growth). Healthy plants don’t attract maggots, any more than healthy mammals do. So the take away points are:

1. Keep the soil consistently moist around root vegetables.
2. Don’t let root vegetables get too large.
3. Make sure the clay content in your soil is not too high.

See? I told you he was a font of insight and information. So, now what? Can I save my radishes? The answer is maybe. Dave also sent me a link to a page on root maggots: Planet Natural's root maggot page

I read through that page, and saw that they recommended floating row covers to prevent the fly infestation in the first place... closing the barn door after the horse is gone in my case. But then... then I started to read about beneficial nematodes.

Now. Full disclosure here. I used to be a veterinarian. Heretofore my job has been to kill these suckers. (And boy are they good at sucking.) When I think of nematodes, my head fills with images of Ascaris suum, the disgusting 15+ inch-long roundworm of pigs. Or the even grodier Dirofilaria immitis, commonly known as Heartworm, which causes untold misery and death to cute fat soft yummy puppies the world over. Up until now, I’ve been a total nematode jihadist.

But I’m going to have to change my tune. Steinernema feltiae is a mensch among nematodes. Dude, you wouldn’t BELIEVE the things these roundworms eat! Fleas! Fungus gnats! Black vine weevils! White grubs! Root maggots! Slugs! And over 230 other garden pests! And you know what? They leave dogs, pigs and people alone! Reading this made me want to burst out into song.

Which is exactly what I did, after placing the order for 7 million little nematodes to come to my house.

Guru Dave

Doesn’t the moniker “Guru Dave” conjure up a Hollywood image of a serene swami with a creme jeweled turban with a red plume jutting out of the front, like a slightly loopy quail? Now that I’ve thought that up, I’m almost sad it has no relation to reality.

But a guru Dave is. He is the guy who installed our AV system and did a masterful job of it, and left the house in cleaner and better condition than when he found it. We got his name from our neighbor where Guru Dave also did a masterful AV job. So if you want an AV guy in the SF Bay Area, you want Dave.

While Dave was working in my house he discovered my seedlings. Maybe it was the entrancing aroma of moldy seedlings that got his attention. Or maybe it was their spindly stretching for greater amounts of sun that flagged him down. Or maybe it was that I had them all lined up against the sliding glass door and it was impossible not to trip over them. Anyway, he saw my seedlings and he took pity.

It turns out that Dave has an enormous garden in a microclimate not that different than my own. He has decades of gardening experience, AND he has a greenhouse. (I wonder if he has a garden gnome?) Anyway, he took a tour of my garden and told me what he thought would do well and what he thought would “laugh at me”. Evidently most of my garden finds me hilarious. Small comfort to know I amuse plants.

After Dave stopped laughing, he generously gave me 10 seedlings for plants that should do well where I live. 2 broccoli, 2 spinach, 2 zucchini, 2 lettuce and 2 of his prized personal line of tomatoes that he has tested in our less-than-tomato-friendly environment and found to be prolific. I planted out most of those on April 25th. As far as I can tell, his plants seem to be doing quite well despite my care. He also gave me some tips which I wrote down, including the grand idea of growing greenbeans along the back fence and the merits of greenhouses. I can’t act on all of them at the moment, but the seeds are sown.

Anyway, so that’s Guru Dave. And I think I’m going to email him a photo of my maggoty radishes and ask if it’s time to cry yet. I cut a radish open and it wasn’t nearly the horrifying spectacle that I was anticipating. It looked relatively civilized, although there were a few bug holes around the edges.

Hmm. No, you're probably not ok.

After speaking to Mr. Yak and getting Ro’s comment, I decided that the odds of those white wiggly things being ‘friends’ were rather slim. So I went back outside and pulled up another radish. This time, I had my camera at the ready, turned on and set to manual focus so that I could easily get the documentation I wanted while I was still on my first scream.

And there you have it.

That can’t be good. If I have the nerve (or I talk Mr. Yak into it) I will cut one open, camera again at the ready, and show the world what is inside those radishes. And now I must wonder... are my other root vegetables... beets and carrots... going to have these things, too? I do not like them, Sam I am.

Regardless, I think it’s time I put in a call to Guru Dave. Which means I probably ought to introduce him in the blog.

OMG are you ok???

So, the last 3 days have been unseasonably weird, weather-wise. We had rain and lots of it. Yes rain, people! In May? Not supposed to happen in California. And even MORE not supposed to happen? Hail. Yes, you read that right, HAIL. How?!? Why?!? Is it global warming?!? No, I say it is not. It is not global warming, because I firmly believe that THEY’RE OUT TO GET ME AND IT ONLY HAILED IN MAY BECAUSE *THEY* DON’T WANT ME TO HAVE A GARDEN. Clearly I need a garden gnome for protection. I’m going to look into that.

Phew. Now that I got that off my chest, I feel better. Sort of.

So anyway, I’ve been stuck inside for a bit. (Not that this affects me any.) And it’s finally drying out and sunny, so I went outside for a look-see. And you’ll never guess what I looked-saw. Ginormous radishes is what I saw. Ginormous radishes that are bolting. So I yanked two out of the ground and got out my camera, because they were covered with these white teeny tiny maggoty things, and I was all, “OMG are you ok???”

And that is my question for you, dear reader. Are they okay? I included a photo of my maggoty friends. Are those just grubs? I always think of grubs being bigger than that, which is why I’m thrown off. Once I rinsed off the dirt and the bugs, the radishes looked more reasonable. Except they’re the size of a racquetball and white. But I was kind of expecting that since that is what Burpee said they ought to be. I’m wondering if I left them in the ground too long. There are some cracks in the radishes, but not a ton. Any thoughts on that, too?

Peat pots are of the devil, and other findings

A few days ago I read online that peat pots are notorious for not decomposing rapidly enough. To make matters worse, the rims of the pots that stick out of the ground wick water up and out, giving more surface area for the water to evaporate. In other words, they rootbind plantings and desiccate them. Not nice! Of course I thought to myself, “Not myyyyyy peat pots.” Because, y’know, I don’t typically exhibit that behavior for my kids, and it wants to be let out somewhere. Despite this, the idea of dry rootbound plants bugged me. Especially since my peat potted plants seemed be the most wretched plants in my garden.

So two days ago I went outside after a long day, and in the dying light of a setting sun I was able to pull out every single peat-potted plant out of the ground without so much as a tug. Ooo was I annoyed! So I took a spade to those peat pots and smashed them up. And since I had my crankypants on, I left their smithereens all over the garden beds. And then I replanted all those plants. Harumph. So much for my feel goodisms in the garden store... peat pots look so much greener than plastic pots and it seems so much kinder to put plants in the ground without ripping them out of their pots first. And it turns out it isn’t true. Plastic pots can get reused year after year to start seedlings, they hold onto water so the seedlings don’t dry out, and as long as you don’t start your seeds too early which will make you wait too long (ahem) to plant outside, transplanting isn’t nearly as traumatic as being desiccated and rootbound.

Now, I’ve made newspaper pots, and those aren’t half bad. They do decompose in a timely manner.Their main problem is they decompose rather rapidly, so you might wind up planting out when the seedlings aren’t at their ideal planting-out size. Also, usually the paper pots are on the smaller side. If you make them much bigger than an 8 oz. tomato sauce can size, they don’t hold together all that well. I also seemed to get a lot more mold growth on the paper pots than I did on things grown in plastic. Since I’m fairly allergic to many molds, that kinda freaked me out. But I have to admit that the orange speckled mold looked kinda cool, especially next to the pale gray-green mold. If I could find a purple mold, I’d have the secondary color triangle. And any marketing major can tell you that the secondary color triad is the hipster cool “I’m so fresh and youthful and I think outside the box!” color triad. So I guess I’d be willing to give paper pots another try on the next round... but no more peat pots for me!

An unforeseen problem with paper mulch

Paper mulch doesn’t have much tensile strength, when push comes to shove, and to push, and to shove.

About 2 weeks ago I noticed some protuberances in the paper mulch in the eggplant bed. Turns out dear Audrey was just popping out to get a glimpse of Old Sol. In the southern half of the bed, nearest the fence are what I think are probably onions just on the verge of blooming. They were here when we moved in last October... quite alive and green and allium-looking, so I just left them alone. So when I realized that the bulges that were forming were spears of something shooting up from below I just assumed they were more of the same. But they’re not. It’s hard to see in the photos, but they have spade shaped leaves. I wonder what they are? Any ideas? And the $64,000 question, should I yank them up or see what they are first?

And for bonus points, you can tell me if those onions can be harvested after they bloom and die off, or if by letting them bloom at all, I’ve messed up entirely and should throw in the towel.

My Garden

After not much thought at all (why start now?) I’ve decided to blog about my garden. I’d been keeping track of what I’m doing in a running log in an MS Word file... why not inflict my idiocy on the rest of the universe with a blog? Everyone else does it.

I have a second reason, too. And that is that I heartily agree with the president of Seagate’s assessment of hard drives: “There are only two types of hard drives in the world: dead, and dying.” (At least I’ve been told he’s said that. And I like the quote too much to try and corroborate it and be disappointed.) I have no illusions that I will achieve fame, fortune or even street cred with my gardening blog. But at least I won’t have to sob into my beer over it when my hard drive crashes again. And yes, I do back up my computer. Remotely, even! But I am certain that if there is a way for that to go kaplooey simultaneously along with my hard drive, it will happen.

And finally, I’m a gardening idiot, and maaaaybe just maybe I will get some useful feedback when I do something profoundly stupid. Contrary to popular opinion, I am not the minor deity of DIY that people seem to think I am. No. I brachiate through the forest of life like the primate I am, spending large amounts of time airborne between branches with nothing between me and the big fat flat proverbial floor below but a bucketful of air, thinking, "Hunh. This could end badly."

So. I’m off to rewrite history. I’ll backdate some entries to reflect what I’ve done. Prepare to laugh and point.