Gone are the days of barn raisings and community grain harvests, which is unfortunate. But that doesn’t mean you have to do all your garden work by yourself.
Let’s face it - gardening is work. It’s work that we enjoy, certainly, but sometimes we need a little help. Knowing where to look and how to ask for help doesn’t come naturally to everyone. This should help.
For the big jobs, like irrigation systems and tree work, you are better off calling in the professionals. Tree work can be very dangerous. It requires special training and equipment. As a bonus, after an arborist works on your trees, be sure to ask them for a free load of wood chips. Arborist chips make an excellent mulch that retains moisture, reduces weeds, stabilizes soil temperatures, and ultimately feeds the soil and improves soil structure. Installing irrigation systems, ponds, and similar big projects require skills that many of us do not have. Ask friends and neighbors for local referrals.
If all you need is information, the Internet and your local library can be very helpful. Librarians are trained professionals who are very good at finding information and they can help you track down the books you need to become a better gardener. Most libraries currently offer drive-by book exchanges.
When conducting an online search for gardening assistance, it helps to be as specific as possible. “What’s wrong with my tomatoes” is too generic. Instead, try typing “tomato leaf black spots” and you are sure to get helpful information about the fungal disease, Septoria leaf spot, and its prevention: remove infected leaves, provide good air flow, and avoid overhead watering. Just be sure to avoid the sensationalists and track down science-based information.
Master Gardeners are another excellent resource. Many chapters offer helplines, by phone or online, to answer gardening questions. Master Gardeners are familiar with and knowledgeable about local plant pests, diseases, and other issues. Contact your local County Extension Office for more information.
When you need more than information and less than a project manager, don’t be afraid to reach out to family, friends, and neighbors for help. All too often, we convince ourselves that no one wants to help us when, in fact, no one knows we need help. Simply by asking for a hand moving a heavy stone, digging a hole for a bare root tree, or figuring out a better way to trellis a grape vine, we might discover that that casual [masked] neighbor has shared interests and provides good conversation, along with help in the garden. Scouts, 4H, and other organizations may be able to help, as well. It doesn’t hurt to ask.
Finally, there are literally billions of helpers just waiting to be invited to your garden. They are ready, willing, and able to eat aphids, parasitize hornworms, and pollinate your crops. They are the insects. And you generally do not have to buy anything to coax these autonomous helpers to your garden.
Planting flowers, leaving wild spaces, and minimizing garden clean-up is all it takes. If your landscape provides pollen, nectar, prey, water, and shelter, beneficial insects will find your yard and get right to work, without any future effort on your part.
Who are you inviting to be part of your garden?
If a global pandemic and a worrisome election weren’t problems enough, Colorado and many of the western states have been on fire for weeks, creating ominous yellow skies and a sense of foreboding.
While there isn’t much we can do about any of it, besides wearing masks, maintaining social distance, voting intelligently, and practicing fire safe gardening, knowing more about how our plants are being affected can help us take better care of them.
Many of us grew up with the old adage: Red sky at night, sailors delight. Red sky at morning, sailors take warning. Truth is, that quote comes to us from the Bible in a slightly different form, but for the same reasons: Red sky at night, shepherd’s delight. Red sky in morning, shepherd’s warning.
In both cases, the redness of the sky is caused by particles in the atmosphere. Yellow, orange, red, and brown are longer wavelengths and they are able to pass through particles in the air. Blues and greens have a more difficult time. This is called Rayleigh scattering and it explains why sunsets are so colorful - the light has to pass through more of the Earth’s atmosphere, hitting more particles, so we get pinks and purples. But I digress.
According to the old saying, if there are a lot of particles floating around in the evening, clear weather is likely the next day. If the sky is red in the morning, it may mean a storm is on its way. But we don’t need old sayings or Spare the Air alerts to tell us something is wrong. Spending time outside this summer causes itchy, burning eyes, a raspy voice, and general ill ease, both physically and emotionally.
But what do these wildfire conditions do to your garden and landscape plants? Is it harmful or helpful? You might be surprised to learn that it can be both.
Not too long ago, forestry experts learned that controlled fires are an important part of forest ecosystem health. Some trees need fire to release their seeds. Fires kill pests and pathogens. They clear out dead and dying materials. Surprisingly, there are other benefits.
Smokey shade and photosynthesis
We all know that shade protects plants from sunscald. The smoke and other particles currently flying around in the air is providing similar protection for your plants. Of course, too much shade interferes with photosynthesis. Unless the smoke is really thick, rather than blocking sunlight, the particles diffuse sunlight, bouncing it around in more directions. This provides sunlight for photosynthesis to plant parts that don’t usually get enough sunlight to do much good.
Carbon and carbon dioxide
Many of the particles found in wildfire smoke are carbon-based. There’s more carbon dioxide in the air. Plants use carbon for food and carbon dioxide in photosynthesis. To that degree, the fires and smoke are good for plants, but that’s probably where the benefits end.
Since more than trees and grasses are burning in all these fires, we have to assume that pollutants are also coating our plants (and us). These pollutants come from burning furniture, vehicles, plastics, and other man-made substances.
Also, research has shown that many of the normal substances found in wildfire smoke can cause several problems for plants:
Fires and smoke can also result in atmospheric pressure changes and other conditions that cause plants to close their stomata. Stomata are, in essence, breathing holes. Fires also increase ground level ozone. Ozone is very bad for plants. Basically, once ozone enters a plant through the stomata, it is transformed into a reactive oxygen that breaks down cell membranes and damages the contents of cells. Symptoms of exposure to high concentrations of ozone include:
Further exposure can lead to chlorosis, early senescence, and necrosis. Put another way, many plants are holding their breath, suffering ulcers, and their cell phones have died. It’s tough being a plant right now.
If all that weren’t bad enough, stressed plants are more susceptible to pest infestations and infections. My perfectly healthy young lemon tree was inundated with leaf miners in just two days. I can’t help thinking it must have something to do with all the particulates in the air. I could be wrong, but it makes sense to me.
After the fires are gone
What about after everything gets back to normal? It’s all too easy to think that everything is okay once blue skies return, but that may be premature. Most of the pollutants and other particles that were floating around end up on the ground and on your plants. Rain and irrigation water washes those chemicals into the soil.
It’s a good idea to have your soil tested after a major fire episode to check for contaminants. It’s also a good idea to wash your produce even more thoroughly than normal. Just in case.
As for us mammals, just like our plants, we need to stay clean, hydrated, and protected.
Too many plants? How can that be?
There’s always room for that new variety of an old favorite, a gift plant from a fellow gardener, and all those seeds that beg to touch soil. How can a gardener say no? Is there such a thing as too many plants?
Many gardening enthusiasts (myself included) seem to collect more and more plants until it starts getting difficult to find a place with enough sunlight and soil. But there is more to the idea of too many plants than simply real estate.
A matter of time
We may enjoy tending our plants, but there are only so many hours in a day. For people who work and have children, those hours are severely limited. Personally, I’m a housewife under quarantine. I have all the time in the world - you might think. But there are household chores, meals, dogs, chickens, converting this blog into a book, ZOOMing with chorus and friends, and playing video games online with my out of state son. All of these things take time. And this week, some of my plants paid the ultimate price for my limited attention.
Seedlings I had just put in the ground didn’t make it. It was one of those I-thought-he-watered, he-thought-I-watered situations. After just one day of scorching heat, there were casualties. That’s a shame, too, because of the time, soil, and water put into getting them started. Of course, by the time July rolls around, I’ll be so busy canning and freezing zucchinis and other summer squashes, tomatoes, beans, and apricots, that I probably won’t even notice the loss. But time lost is never regained and that’s the whole point of this post. Having too many plants, or the wrong sort of plants, can take its toll on gardeners of any skill level.
The wrong sort of plants
Just as the wrong sort of friends can lead you down paths you wished you hadn't taken, trying to grow the wrong sort of plants means wasted time, money, and water. How much time do you invest in battling invasive weeds? Do you regularly prune shrubs that you don’t even like? Do you find yourself nursing along plants that never seem to thrive? And what about plants that are not suited to where you live? My blueberries know they really belong in Maine someplace, not in an open expanse of California heat. And when summer heat hits, how much time do you have to spend watering to keep everything alive and healthy?
Water, a limited resource
The water may come out of your tap or spigot easily enough, but we all know that it’s a valuable resource and that there are limits to what we can responsibly use. This is especially true in drought-prone areas, such as California. Installing plants that use a lot of water means spending time watering those plants. Do you have an hour every morning in summer to water your garden?
Limited real estate
Whether your garden consists of a strip of balcony or acres of farmland, there is a limit to the number of plants your space can handle. Cramming too many plants too closely together is an invitation to pests and diseases that will mean more work for you.
Stop fighting the same battles
If you find yourself fighting the same battles on a regular basis, try a new attack. If fungal disease is a problem in your garden, space plants more widely and water at ground level. If you can’t say no to that new plant, put some serious thought into where it will go while it is still in quarantine [not yours]. If specific pests arrive every year, make a plan of attack before they arrive.
If you regularly forget to water something that really needs it, create a routine. In our house, we use a bucket to capture shower water as it heats up. In summer, that water always goes to the raspberries. Making it a habit makes it easier to remember.
If you have too many plants, especially the wrong sort of plants, you may find yourself wondering why in the world you ever started gardening in the first place. Do yourself and your garden a favor and aim for just the right number and type of plants for you, your soil, and your garden with these actions:
Rather than feeling overwhelmed and exhausted because of too many plants, put your time, effort, and water into plants worth having.
People have been battling mosquitoes for a very long time and with good reason.
Mosquito bites are no fun. They itch like crazy, no matter how much you scratch (which you shouldn’t). Worse than that, mosquitoes carry diseases that can make you very, very sick, or even kill you.
Diseases carried by mosquitoes
Malaria and dengue fever certainly come to mind when you think of mosquito borne diseases, but they aren’t the only ones carried and transmitted by mosquitoes. Each year, nearly 700 million people around the world become infected with mosquito borne diseases and more than one million of those people die. In the US, over 3,000 people a year die from mosquito borne diseases, such as Zika and West Nile, as well as malaria, dengue, yellow fever, chikungunya, and St. Louis encephalitis.
I had never heard of the last two before, so I had to look them up. Chikungunya [chicken-goon-ya] showed up in the Americas in 2013. It causes joint pain, headache, and fever. If you get St. Louis encephalitis, you might feel nothing, or you may experience fever, headache, nausea, tiredness, and vomiting. In both cases, you might die. COVID-19 is not believed to be carried by mosquitoes, but canine heartworm is.
Different species of mosquito tend to carry different diseases, but I can’t tell them apart. I do know that if I get bitten, it’s by a female mosquito.
Male and female mosquitoes both eat nectar, but female mosquitoes need blood for their eggs. They get that blood from mammals, from us. When a female mosquito lands on you, she drools numbing, anti-coagulating spit on your arm before inserting her mouthparts. That’s why you often don’t feel the bite until it’s too late. And that saliva can contain deadly viruses. What’s a gardener to do?
Interrupting the mosquito cycle
Mosquitoes need standing water in which to lay their eggs. Unfortunately for us, mosquitoes can lay those eggs in as little as one tablespoon of water. That handful of water might be found in rain gutters, planter saucers, old tire swings, or a trowel that was left behind in the yard. Eliminating all of those potential egg-laying locations goes a long way toward reducing mosquitoes in the garden.
What about ponds, fountains, rain barrels, birdbaths, and pet water bowls?
These water sources can also be used by mosquitoes for egg-laying, but adding one simple ingredient eliminates the problem: mosquito dunks.
Plants that [supposedly] deter mosquitoes
You may have heard that there are plants you can add to your landscape to deter these pests. The lists and descriptions certainly are enticing and convincing. Sadly, research has not held up those claims in the field. It’s one thing to smear yourself with a concentrated mix of essential oils in a laboratory (assuming you aren’t allergic). It’s something else entirely to stand 30’ away from a patch of citronella grass or a rosemary shrub and expect significant results.
Will these plants deter mosquitoes? Probably not enough to make a difference. But maybe, if you plant enough of them, and you rub your hands through them every once in a while as you enjoy your garden, it might help. If nothing else, these plants look and smell lovely in a landscape, and many of them are edible:
Sorry for bursting any bubbles out there. I think that these plants do provide some help, just not as much as many sources claim. The only exception I could find was oil from the lemon eucalyptus (Eucalyptus citriodora syn. Corymbia citriodora) plant, but few of us are able or willing to grow this 60-foot tall Australian herb in our yards.
To safely repel mosquitoes while outside, the CDC recommends using EPA-approved repellents that contain at least one of these active ingredients: DEET, picaridin (known as KBR 3023 and icaridin outside the US), IR3535, oil of lemon eucalyptus (OLE), para-menthane-diol (PMD), or 2-undecanone. They also suggest applying permethrin to clothing.
And get rid of any standing water.
Happy May Day!
I decided to try something new today and give you a walking tour of my garden.
The video is 10 minutes long, so you might want to grab a cup of something before starting.
The chickens and other birds are making a bit of a racket in the background, with it being spring and all.
This is my first attempt at a walking tour, so bear with me. There were a couple of errors. I called my sago palm a saguaro and then I called the beans in my patio strip peas. The sound isn't always consistent, but I think you'll get the idea of what I'm doing.
I hope you enjoy this tour of my daily garden!
I got a peek at the baby doves this week. They are growing fast, but I still haven’t heard a peep out of them. Now that the babies have some feathers, mother and father doves are able to leave the nest and spend some time together. It’s clear they enjoy each other’s company.
This week, I saw another fascinating insect. At first, I thought it might be a blister beetle, but there were no stripes or spots on its wing cases. And, as far as I know, there aren’t any lightning bugs west of the Rockies. That’s when I realized it was a soldier beetle. One of the Good Guys. Soldier beetles eat aphids and the eggs and larvae of many moths, beetles, armyworms, and other pests. I was happy to let it go where I it, among the forest of borage plants that appear each spring.
Another insect has me baffled. I collect insects when I find them and try to identify them. Until I know what they are, I keep them in clear plastic containers. In this particular container, I had a piece of netting covered with what I thought were stink bug eggs, a butt-less honey bee I came across while collecting honey, and a cottony cushion scale egg sack. Early this week, a bunch of tiny black flies appeared in the container. I assumed they were male scale insects but then learned that those are much smaller than these flies. I still don’t know what the flies are, but I did get some photos of the male scale insects, so that was exciting.
My perennial beets have started to produce flowering stems. The first time it happened, it really surprised me. Beet stems get pretty tall and then they hang, willow-like. They are very pretty and I will collect seeds when they are mature.
Speaking of seeds, I’ve lost count of how many varieties of tomatoes, beans, and peppers I started this week, along with carrots, chard, and basil. There were arugula, cabbage, and sunflower seedlings to transplant and the lettuces and chicories are thriving.
Every year, my asparagus harvest gets better. The first year, nothing looked like it was going to grow. The second and third years, all I got were skinny, ferny growths. But now, I am getting some delicious, fat, juicy, purple asparagus shoots that never make it into the house.
Finally, I rigged some netting around my young pear and apricot trees. I have no intention of losing any of those crops to squirrels and birds!
I hope that you are staying safe and well and are able to spend more time in your garden.
Remember, you may have neighbors who could really use some of your extra produce during quarantine. Let’s keep shopping trips to a minimum.
Six weeks into quarantine and I still have plenty to keep me busy in the garden. In fact, April is usually pretty busy and this year is no exception.
Temperatures are slowly rising and I have started more beans, a batch of tomatoes and peppers, and even some melon seeds. I’ve discovered a new pest, there’s something odd happening in my corn patch, and my nectarine tree isn’t doing well. The big news this week was my first honey harvest.
While many beekeepers are struggling to keep their hives healthy and productive, mine came through the winter healthy enough to swarm a second time. My friend, John, came over to collect the swarm and he helped me swap out heavily laden frames from one super and I added a new super on top. The bees were pretty calm about the whole procedure. Some of the honey had crystalized, but I ended up with 27 pounds of honey and 6 pounds of beeswax. I guess I’ll have to try my hand at candle-making.
Corn crop quandary
After caging one of my raised beds and planting corn, lentils, and yellow watermelon, I noticed one half of the corn is coming up beautifully and the other half doesn’t seem to be doing anything at all. It may be that they are different varieties, but, more likely, it has to do with the fact that the corn planted on the right was from last year’s seed. It may make it and it may not, but the corn on the left is doing well. If you look closely at the photo, you can see peas growing along the back, which I had thought failed, and, in the middle, you can see new growth on a broccoli stalk I had cut back to soil level. These plants never cease to amaze me.
Potato crop rotation
I decided to move my potato crop from a raised bed close to my patio to the bed farthest away. Once potatoes get established, they don’t need a whole lot of attention or protection. They had been growing in the same bed since 2015 and crop rotation is a good way to disrupt potential pest or disease problems.
Digging up all the potatoes and potato plants, I discovered dried fruit beetle grubs and wireworms. Wireworms are the larval stage of click beetles. They are bright yellow and a little more than one inch long. They have hard bodies and they burrow into root crops and stems of peas, beans, and melons, so I’m glad I decided to move my potatoes. My chickens were happy about it, too, but for different reasons.
Something bothering my beets
Speaking of soil-dwelling pests and being bothered, I discovered a new one in my beet patch. Harvesting a couple of beets for dinner, I discovered that the roots were significantly smaller than they should have been and that some very tiny, white centipede-like creatures were crawling around on the surface. Dang it. My beets have symphylans. Also known as garden centipedes, these tiny, fast-moving pseudocentipedes are not really related to centipedes at all. They are their own thing and they are a pain in the garden. Their presence explains why nearby kale seedlings never thrived. The only thing I can do is remove vulnerable plants, till the area a few times, and hope the symphylans don’t migrate into other areas of this 25’ long raised bed. Since these pests frequently burrow down 3-feet into the soil, chemical treatments are rarely helpful. I’ve read that beans aren’t as vulnerable, so I’ll plant beans there and see what happens.
Warty leaves on my nectarine tree
Once again, my nectarine tree has been infected with peach leaf curl. Our recent heavy rains made applying fixed copper ineffective and provided the perfect medium for fungal growth. Hopefully it won't lead to other problems, and I still have plenty of nectarine preserves from last year.
I’m not sure, but I think the Barbary dove eggs have hatched. There was much cooing back and forth between the parents a couple of days ago, though I haven’t seen any frequent feeding trips yet.
I hope you are all staying home and well, and enjoying time in your garden!
Still sheltering in place and with no real idea of how long this will last, many gardeners are looking ahead to what they can grow, how they can care for what they have, and where they might find new places to grow edible plants. This gardener is no exception.
In past years, spring was always a lighthearted look at what I might like to try my hand at in the coming summer months. This year, planning has taken on new meaning. I’m not a Prepper or a Doomsayer, but we’re not through this pandemic yet and some groceries might become harder to come by. I am finding myself wondering where I might add new edibles, which harvests can be canned or dried, and which Regulars are not worth the real estate. For me, tomatoes, beans, salad greens, cabbages, potatoes, squashes, melons, teas and herbs, and my fruit and nut trees will be getting the most attention and space. And protecting my crops has become more important, as well.
Even though I knew it was too early/cold/wet to start beans last week, I did it anyway. Most of the seeds have rotted in the ground or been tossed around by foraging birds. The few that germinated have been gnawed to nubs by sowbugs, with only a couple of exceptions. This week, I will be starting bean seeds again, but in small containers that I can protect and keep warmer. As they grow and temperatures rise, I will place them where I want them.
In the meantime, I should probably make sowbug and earwig traps. The traps are super easy to make. You just take rolled up wet newspaper, held together with rubber bands, and place them in areas where sowbugs and earwigs have been a problem. Those pests will use the newspaper rolls as shelter. In the morning, just throw them in the trash. It won’t get them all, but it puts a dent in the pest population.
The compost was finally ready, so I spread it in most of my raised beds and around my fruit and nut trees. I know the compost improves conditions for the sowbugs that seem to be causing so many problems already, so I followed the compost with a light sprinkling of slug bait.
For the third time, I am going to try growing corn. The first year I did it, not a single seed survived the birds and squirrels. The second time I tried, I actually got a few measly, scrawny looking ears. Unfortunately, it was a traditional Indian blue corn variety that was probably great for grinding into cornmeal, but it was practically inedible. This year, I am planting two sweet corn varieties in the same raised bed and I have fenced the bed in, to protect against the normal marauders. If everything goes as planned, I should have a decent harvest for this year’s 4th of July picnic. [Fingers crossed]
The rhubarb is coming in, as well, but you can see damage from sowbugs and slugs already. These reliable perennials have been coming in for 7 or 8 years now.
My giant container of purple sweet potatoes has also begun showing signs of life. I love the deep purple color of the new growth, pushing its way through its winter bed of straw. By mid summer, this planter will be a lush, draping plant with attractive green leaves. All you have to do is burrow your hand into the soil and fish around for a couple of purple sweet potatoes for supper. I think I have been growing this vine for 5 or 6 years now.
Like legumes, sweet potatoes can fix atmospheric nitrogen, but they still need to be fed other nutrients, so it is time for me to top dress my sweet potato container with some of that aged compost. I might need to add a little bit of acidifier. I’ll have to check the pH first. It needs adjusting every once in a while, even in containers, because our water supply is very alkaline and sweet potatoes prefer acidic soil.
At a time when I have no desire to go to a store (or anywhere else), I am so glad to have a garden at home! Our salads are abundant and diverse, with red leaf lettuce, radicchio, baby beet greens, butter leaf lettuce, kale, arugula, chicory, spinach, and curly endive free for the picking. They are all coming up nicely in raised beds and containers. Having let the endive and lettuces go to seed in previous years, I am also finding these plants growing on their own, wherever it happens to suit them. I should probably plant more this week.
Speaking of planting more, I spent yesterday afternoon filling flats with potting soil and seeds, enjoying the sunshine and the promise of future harvests. I ended up planting peas, sugarloaf chicory, more beets, arugula, Swiss chard, and some sunflowers. I also transplanted several cabbages and some early cucumbers. I think I'll start some tomatoes and eggplants this weekend. And those beans.
I gave the Barbary doves a reason to ignore me and my dogs by tying a nesting basket in the corner of the pergola where they have been hanging out. They still fly away when I walk by, but I keep seeing their lovely grey heads peeking out over the rim of the basket. I love the way they sound!
All this new growth and bird courtship reminds me that everything will continue. Life goes on. Hopefully, we will get through this quarantine with a greater respect for getting by with less stuff, staying home more with family and friends, and recognizing that we are all in this together. Globally.
Wow. What a surreal time it is.
Today is the first full day of spring, but I just learned that day and night are not actually equal on the equinox, that the sun we see each sunset has already dropped below the horizon. The more I learn, the less I know…
The rain has come and we are grateful, but the streets are often empty. The sky is cleaner than it has been in decades. Neighbors I have never seen in the 8 years I've lived here are out walking and chatting (from a distance). No stores. No errands. A friend texts and asks if I have any eggs available. I am happy I can tell her I do.
Suddenly, my hens and my garden have taken on greater meaning. Being older and immunocompromised, going to a store is too risky. My husband is willing, but we both know he might just as easily bring COVID-19 in with the groceries.
Luckily, I was very poor when I was young. I learned the importance of shopping wisely, buying storable things on sale, and always making sure you had beans, rice, lentils, flour, sugar, and canned vegetables on hand. We are, for the time being, self-sufficient in San Jose.
None of us know how long this will last. A month, two months, a year, forever. We simply do not know. My guess is that we will have this under control before summer. In case I am wrong, I am shifting my garden design to be more in line with a survival garden than just a fun thing to do.
But gardening is fun and that’s where a goodness equal to the food I harvest comes in. Gardening in these uncertain times provides me with a grounding, a centering, a wider perspective. Summer and autumn will come. The trees will produce sweet juicy nectarines, crisp apples, and delicious almonds. I will plant seeds, pull weeds, and repair a patch of netting. I will clean and sharpen my garden tools, toss my compost pile around, craft the shape of ornamental and edible trees and shrubs, and collect eggs.
I will, as I always do, can tomatoes and green beans, and make marmalade, fig jam, and nectarine preserves, regardless of whether or not it’s safe to go or be anywhere else. The plants don’t know or care about COVID-19. Either do the bees and other pollinators.
It is spring and the cycle of life is continuing as it always has out in the garden. The artichokes have started to come in. My almond tree is covered with baby almonds. The lettuces, chicories, kale, and chard are gearing up for heavy production. The compost pile is cooking itself into an excellent top dressing for my raised beds. A pair of Barbary doves are considering building a nest under my pergola. Everything is going to be alright.
Stay home. Be well.
If you have even the tiniest space that gets a few hours of sunlight, plant a seed. Watch it grow. Care for it. You’ll both be better off.
Daylight saving time messes me up. I don’t like it and I’m not even on a clock. Each time it changes, it feels as though the world is off kilter for a couple of weeks. The plants and chickens don’t seem to notice, so I should probably just follow their lead, and leading they are!
Despite the concerns of several visitors, bees and other pollinators seem to have no problem getting through the tree cage netting. Of course, that also means codling moths can get through, as well. But the birds can’t and the rats and squirrels haven’t yet tried. I guess we have to pick our battles, eh?
My apple and fig trees are just about at budbreak and there are even some tiny figs starting to form! Did you know that the only way a fig can form is if a little wasp gets trapped inside? The fruit of a fig is actually a cluster of flowers that form on the inside. How weird is that?
Anyway, the almond tree is in full leaf and our daily salads have been full of delicious variety with sugarloaf chicory, radicchio, Swiss chard, beet and kale leaves, and red leaf lettuce, along with baby purple broccoli shoots. We have even gotten our first taste of this year’s purple asparagus. [Can you tell we like purple food around here? Wait until it’s time to harvest the purple sweet potatoes!]
The compost pile is coming along nicely. Following the USDA’s guidelines for safely using manure in compost, I am checking the temperature every day and flipping the pile most days. If you look closely at the image below, you can see that the center line of the pile, which has had its top removed, is nearly white, while the rest is yellowish-brown. That white is made up of fungal filaments that are decomposing the bigger bits into smaller molecules that can be used by plants as food. The steam that comes out in the morning when I flip the pile is a pretty impressive sign that chemistry is actively taking place in my simple pile of chicken bedding and yard waste!
A couple of weeks ago, I posted concerns I had for my California poppies. I have been diligently removing stems that show signs of fungal disease and have been brutally thinning plants to provide better airflow and it seems to be helping.
My biggest pest this week seems to be sowbugs. I decided to give this little Gerbera daisy a manicure because it was looking chewed upon and congested. What I discovered was that it was thoroughly infested with sowbugs! Check out this little bugger, tucked comfortably into a new leaf, munching away to its hearts’ content.
Needless to say, I cut out most of the damaged leaves, pulled the mulch away from the whole thing and thinned out the center a fair bit. Let’s see if I can get more blossoms and less bugs.
I hope you are all able to spend some time in your garden this weekend. What’s keeping you busiest or bringing a smile to your face out there?