I gave another “how to” talk on veggie gardening last night at the church of one of my friends, but I wasn’t the only speaker for the evening. The guy who followed me is a widower whose mother-in-law just celebrated her 101st birthday. My talk was pretty much about the nuts-&-bolts of gardening here in Georgia, so his talk was a great choice to follow mine.
He told about his own garden and about why he gardens: he just loves it!
He plants a very large garden and gives most of what he grows away. His green beans are State half-runners; he plants an eighty-foot row and has them climb up wire fencing. He cans many, many quarts of those beans every year.
He plants sixty tomato plants each year (all Park’s Whopper), but has never canned a single tomato. What he and his family don’t eat fresh, he gives away. He doesn’t even eat cucumbers, but he grows them, and he gives those away, too.
He told a couple of stories about gardening, and one story was from his childhood. Apparently, his father had a big garden, and the sons did a lot of the work in it when they were big enough. One hot, sunny day, the boys were sent out with hoes to clear out the weeds. They were told that their father would come get them in about an hour and a half.
The boys took off their shirts to work, but it was still a hot day, and the work was hard. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. After a while, a bird flew by and dropped a load down the back of one of the brothers. That brother dropped his hoe and said, “it’s raining. Time to get back to the house.”
That last bit made me chuckle, but there was more. It turns out that that particular brother has never planted a garden of his own in all his life.
It is interesting that people have such different reactions to childhood gardening. The one brother, the man giving the talk, developed a real love of gardening, and has kept on planting, tending, and harvesting his whole life. Another brother hated it, and never wanted to have anything to do with gardening ever again.
When I was growing up, my family didn’t have a garden. Sometimes when I talk with gardeners who remember working alongside parents or grandparents out in the garden, I feel a little twinge of envy. That history seems so wonderful, and I don’t have that. But after hearing the story, I’m not sure that the lack of childhood garden memories is such a loss.
Friday, March 26, 2010
Thursday, March 25, 2010
My Friend Susan's Upcoming Talk
My friend Susan, the leader of the Plant-a-Row-for-the-Hungry project for which I am a volunteer, is giving a Vegetable Gardening talk Saturday, starting at 10:00 a.m., at McFarlane Nature Park (280 Farm Road, Marietta, GA---off Paper Mill Road, near Johnson Ferry Rd).
Anyone in the area who is new to growing food or who has questions about growing food would probably enjoy Susan's talk. She loves growing food and knows a lot about gardening in this area!
Anyone in the area who is new to growing food or who has questions about growing food would probably enjoy Susan's talk. She loves growing food and knows a lot about gardening in this area!
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Broccoli, beets, and boron
(An updated version of this post about the micronutrient boron is on my new website, Small Garden News. The update was made in 2019.)
In this area, when a garden’s soil test results come back from UGA, near the end of the report, in tiny print, is a note about adding boron to the soil for broccoli and beets. The recommendation is for 1 tablespoon of boron per 100 feet of row, or per 100 square feet.
Boron, an essential micronutrient for plant growth, tends to leach out of soils that receive a lot of rainfall, and the metro-Atlanta area usually (drought years excepted) gets at least 50 inches of rain each year. That counts as a lot.
The good news is that organic matter helps hold boron -- and other nutrients -- in the soil. This means that gardens to which organic matter has been added routinely are less likely to be deficient.
However, some plants need more Boron than others. Broccoli and beets are two that need more, but the Boron page of the Agronomic Library for Spectrum Analytics has a longer list of high-boron users, referred to as "high response crops," and the list includes other root vegetables in addition to home-garden staples like lettuce and corn. The page also includes a table of deficiency symptoms that might help a gardener figure out whether low boron is a problem in his or her garden.
I’m thinking about this now because I planted the carrot and beet seeds yesterday. Both are on the “high response crops” list, so I will be adding some to their space tomorrow (it is raining today).
Boron isn’t present in the usual NPK fertilizer formulations (which I will not be using again anyway), but it is available in the laundry-soap aisles of many grocery stores, as 20 Mule Team Borax. I never plant as much as 100 square feet of any one crop, so I adjust the amount of borax to match the approximate square footage that I’ve planted.
I usually add the borax to a full watering can and try to move the can smoothly over the planted area for even dispersal. It is also possible to just sprinkle the dry powder over the area, but any wind makes even distribution less likely.
I only add boron to the areas that are planted with “high response crops" each year, rather than the entire garden, because I don’t want to add too much. The problem with micronutrients is right in their category name, the prefix “micro.” They are useful only when present in very small amounts. Too much is as big a problem as too little, and getting rid of what’s already been added is much harder than adding more.
In this area, when a garden’s soil test results come back from UGA, near the end of the report, in tiny print, is a note about adding boron to the soil for broccoli and beets. The recommendation is for 1 tablespoon of boron per 100 feet of row, or per 100 square feet.
Boron, an essential micronutrient for plant growth, tends to leach out of soils that receive a lot of rainfall, and the metro-Atlanta area usually (drought years excepted) gets at least 50 inches of rain each year. That counts as a lot.
The good news is that organic matter helps hold boron -- and other nutrients -- in the soil. This means that gardens to which organic matter has been added routinely are less likely to be deficient.
However, some plants need more Boron than others. Broccoli and beets are two that need more, but the Boron page of the Agronomic Library for Spectrum Analytics has a longer list of high-boron users, referred to as "high response crops," and the list includes other root vegetables in addition to home-garden staples like lettuce and corn. The page also includes a table of deficiency symptoms that might help a gardener figure out whether low boron is a problem in his or her garden.
I’m thinking about this now because I planted the carrot and beet seeds yesterday. Both are on the “high response crops” list, so I will be adding some to their space tomorrow (it is raining today).
Boron isn’t present in the usual NPK fertilizer formulations (which I will not be using again anyway), but it is available in the laundry-soap aisles of many grocery stores, as 20 Mule Team Borax. I never plant as much as 100 square feet of any one crop, so I adjust the amount of borax to match the approximate square footage that I’ve planted.
I usually add the borax to a full watering can and try to move the can smoothly over the planted area for even dispersal. It is also possible to just sprinkle the dry powder over the area, but any wind makes even distribution less likely.
I only add boron to the areas that are planted with “high response crops" each year, rather than the entire garden, because I don’t want to add too much. The problem with micronutrients is right in their category name, the prefix “micro.” They are useful only when present in very small amounts. Too much is as big a problem as too little, and getting rid of what’s already been added is much harder than adding more.
Friday, March 19, 2010
Compost is fleeting...
...but produce stickers are forever. I was scooping compost into my wheelbarrow, to use in the lettuce and spinach bed that I was getting ready to plant, when I saw (yet another) produce sticker.
I find these in my garden, too. Someday in the far-off future, an archeologist is going to stumble across the site of my garden and find this record of my family's produce-purchases. It will be quite a find, I'm sure.
The good news is that, while I was out working in the garden, I noticed that some of the peas managed to survive their too-early planting. There are spaces I will need to fill in with more peas, but I won't have to replant every last one.
The weather is beautiful today--67 degrees F and sunny. More of the same is forecast for tomorrow!
I find these in my garden, too. Someday in the far-off future, an archeologist is going to stumble across the site of my garden and find this record of my family's produce-purchases. It will be quite a find, I'm sure.
The good news is that, while I was out working in the garden, I noticed that some of the peas managed to survive their too-early planting. There are spaces I will need to fill in with more peas, but I won't have to replant every last one.
The weather is beautiful today--67 degrees F and sunny. More of the same is forecast for tomorrow!
Sunday, March 7, 2010
A Gardening Friend
This afternoon I stopped by the house of the Tomato Man in Kennesaw with a bag of potting soil. He had given me some Amish tomato plants last year, and I wanted to make sure I was on his list for this year, too. He seemed surprised that I brought potting soil, but I think he appreciated it.
He and his wife invited me in for a visit, and while he was looking for an article about growing tomatoes that he wanted to show me, his wife told me a story from her childhood. She was born in Kansas, but her father was in the military and they were moved to California when she was small. The aunt that she lived with when he got assigned out of the country (after Pearl Harbor) grew and canned peaches and apricots.
When Mrs. Tomato Man was a girl, she always pulled apricots apart into halves before eating them, and one day a friend asked why she did that. She said that it was because that's what her aunt did. One day when she and her friend were eating apricots, her friend bit into a whole one that turned out to be full of ants.
When the Tomato Man got back with his article, he handed it to me but then started to tell me his favorite part: Tomatoes were at one time (a very long time ago) thought to be poisonous; they are, after all, in the same family as the deadly nightshade, which can actually kill people if they eat it. But back in about 1830, a guy named Colonel Robert Gibbon Johnson, who according to the article is kind of the Cool Hand Luke of tomatoes, took a dare to eat a whole basket of tomatoes. Everybody figured he'd be dead at the first one, but he lived.
The Tomato Man made sure that I knew all the basics about tomatoes before I left, which was very sweet. I am incredibly fortunate to have struck up that conversation with him at the local Home Depot last year when we were both perusing the seed racks. If I hadn't, I would have missed making two friends.
And, I am extra-glad I stopped by early because it turns out that this year his garden is going to be much smaller. He has been retired for a long time. He was in the aerospace industry, designing parts for fighter jets. One jet in particular was for the Korean War, which is a clue to his age. Last year, his usual garden was just too much work.
This really firms up my commitment to save seeds from the garden this year. If I don't, this particular strain that has been grown locally for a couple of decades might be lost.
I asked where he got the seeds for his Amish tomatoes originally, and he said that he ordered them from a catalog. He didn't remember which one, but he did remember that the description said they were the only tomato grown by the Amish families in one particular area. The description also said that the Amish saved seeds for it every year, which is how he got the idea that he could save the seeds, too.
The plants produce tomatoes that are large, meaty, tasty, and multicolored. One plant can produce some tomatoes that are all pink, some that are all yellow, and some that are striped or swirled (both pink and yellow). Like many heirloom tomatoes, they aren't prolific producers (think Brandywine), but they are well worth my effort.
He and his wife invited me in for a visit, and while he was looking for an article about growing tomatoes that he wanted to show me, his wife told me a story from her childhood. She was born in Kansas, but her father was in the military and they were moved to California when she was small. The aunt that she lived with when he got assigned out of the country (after Pearl Harbor) grew and canned peaches and apricots.
When Mrs. Tomato Man was a girl, she always pulled apricots apart into halves before eating them, and one day a friend asked why she did that. She said that it was because that's what her aunt did. One day when she and her friend were eating apricots, her friend bit into a whole one that turned out to be full of ants.
When the Tomato Man got back with his article, he handed it to me but then started to tell me his favorite part: Tomatoes were at one time (a very long time ago) thought to be poisonous; they are, after all, in the same family as the deadly nightshade, which can actually kill people if they eat it. But back in about 1830, a guy named Colonel Robert Gibbon Johnson, who according to the article is kind of the Cool Hand Luke of tomatoes, took a dare to eat a whole basket of tomatoes. Everybody figured he'd be dead at the first one, but he lived.
The Tomato Man made sure that I knew all the basics about tomatoes before I left, which was very sweet. I am incredibly fortunate to have struck up that conversation with him at the local Home Depot last year when we were both perusing the seed racks. If I hadn't, I would have missed making two friends.
And, I am extra-glad I stopped by early because it turns out that this year his garden is going to be much smaller. He has been retired for a long time. He was in the aerospace industry, designing parts for fighter jets. One jet in particular was for the Korean War, which is a clue to his age. Last year, his usual garden was just too much work.
This really firms up my commitment to save seeds from the garden this year. If I don't, this particular strain that has been grown locally for a couple of decades might be lost.
I asked where he got the seeds for his Amish tomatoes originally, and he said that he ordered them from a catalog. He didn't remember which one, but he did remember that the description said they were the only tomato grown by the Amish families in one particular area. The description also said that the Amish saved seeds for it every year, which is how he got the idea that he could save the seeds, too.
The plants produce tomatoes that are large, meaty, tasty, and multicolored. One plant can produce some tomatoes that are all pink, some that are all yellow, and some that are striped or swirled (both pink and yellow). Like many heirloom tomatoes, they aren't prolific producers (think Brandywine), but they are well worth my effort.
Friday, March 5, 2010
Planting Schedule Update
My Louisiana sister sent a link to an Old Farmers Almanac web-page that can create a planting calendar by zipcode. The page linked above is for the planting calendar for Marietta (not my town, but the one that the Almanac found). I was happy to see that, for the most part, the OFA agrees with my own standard schedule for most garden plants.
One big exception is potatoes; the OFA lists an April (!) planting date. I use an early-to-mid-March (depending on the weather) planting date for potatoes, and I am not alone in this.
One late February when I was up at Ladd's Farm Supply, I was talking with an old guy, one of the guys who has been growing food for decades in a huge enough garden that it needs a small tractor, who had already prepared rows for his potatoes and was planning to plant them when he got home that day. I remember feeling like a lazy-bones in comparison!
This year it has been so cold that the daffodils are almost a month late in blooming, so the April planting date might not be too far off for this year, but most years planting that late will leave potatoes trying to mature in the heat of July. That just doesn't seem right to me.
The OFA did have some other good news for me, though. It turns out that most of my already planned planting dates are also the ones recommended for people who are planting "by the moon." I know people for whom this is important--they say it really does make a difference, and I am ready to take all the help I can get.
One big exception is potatoes; the OFA lists an April (!) planting date. I use an early-to-mid-March (depending on the weather) planting date for potatoes, and I am not alone in this.
One late February when I was up at Ladd's Farm Supply, I was talking with an old guy, one of the guys who has been growing food for decades in a huge enough garden that it needs a small tractor, who had already prepared rows for his potatoes and was planning to plant them when he got home that day. I remember feeling like a lazy-bones in comparison!
This year it has been so cold that the daffodils are almost a month late in blooming, so the April planting date might not be too far off for this year, but most years planting that late will leave potatoes trying to mature in the heat of July. That just doesn't seem right to me.
The OFA did have some other good news for me, though. It turns out that most of my already planned planting dates are also the ones recommended for people who are planting "by the moon." I know people for whom this is important--they say it really does make a difference, and I am ready to take all the help I can get.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Fertilizer News
Last week a link to Tom Philpott’s article “New research: synthetic nitrogen destroys soil carbon, undermines soil health” showed up on Energy Bulletin, one of my favorite news sites. The article was originally published in Grist.
The article’s title pretty much says it all: a couple of recent (2007, 2009) studies by soil scientists working in Illinois (and a 2009 study by soil scientists in Iowa) support what some very old sources — published before WWII— had claimed, that use of synthetic fertilizers is bad for soil. What’s bad is that the readily available nitrogen speeds up growth of soil bacteria and fungi; as they grow, they do their usual job of decomposing organic matter more quickly, which results in soil with lower organic matter content.
It has been thought that agricultural soils on which plant debris had been left and then turned under would serve as storage for carbon, which could help mitigate climate change, but the new studies suggest that the industrial farms that rely on synthetic fertilizers are not going to be useful as carbon sinks.
In addition, soils that are lower in organic matter drain less well, hold less moisture, hold nutrients less well, and have lowered numbers of nitrogen-fixing bacteria. As the spaces normally held open by organic matter in the soil close because of the loss of that organic matter, the soil compacts and air is squeezed out. Roots need those air pockets, and so do many members of the community of micro- (and not so micro-) organisms that live in the soil.
I’m writing about this for a couple of reasons. The first is that not everyone who reads my blog reads the same websites that I do, so they might have missed this news. The other is that I had just about decided to save some money this year by using some synthetic fertilizer on my veggies. Obviously, I am going to have to change that plan (back to the cotton-seed meal, kelp meal, etc).
I would say that “Ignorance [was] bliss,” but I am glad to be able to avoid harming my garden’s soil. I may have to drive back out to that horse farm for another load of manure, though.
NOTE: The article discussed here is one in a series posted on Grist about soil nitrogen. Tom Philpott has written them all.
The article’s title pretty much says it all: a couple of recent (2007, 2009) studies by soil scientists working in Illinois (and a 2009 study by soil scientists in Iowa) support what some very old sources — published before WWII— had claimed, that use of synthetic fertilizers is bad for soil. What’s bad is that the readily available nitrogen speeds up growth of soil bacteria and fungi; as they grow, they do their usual job of decomposing organic matter more quickly, which results in soil with lower organic matter content.
It has been thought that agricultural soils on which plant debris had been left and then turned under would serve as storage for carbon, which could help mitigate climate change, but the new studies suggest that the industrial farms that rely on synthetic fertilizers are not going to be useful as carbon sinks.
In addition, soils that are lower in organic matter drain less well, hold less moisture, hold nutrients less well, and have lowered numbers of nitrogen-fixing bacteria. As the spaces normally held open by organic matter in the soil close because of the loss of that organic matter, the soil compacts and air is squeezed out. Roots need those air pockets, and so do many members of the community of micro- (and not so micro-) organisms that live in the soil.
I’m writing about this for a couple of reasons. The first is that not everyone who reads my blog reads the same websites that I do, so they might have missed this news. The other is that I had just about decided to save some money this year by using some synthetic fertilizer on my veggies. Obviously, I am going to have to change that plan (back to the cotton-seed meal, kelp meal, etc).
I would say that “Ignorance [was] bliss,” but I am glad to be able to avoid harming my garden’s soil. I may have to drive back out to that horse farm for another load of manure, though.
NOTE: The article discussed here is one in a series posted on Grist about soil nitrogen. Tom Philpott has written them all.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Sweet Potatoes
“Without the sweet potato,” said Robert Odeu, “there would be terrible hunger.” Odeu is a farmer in Uganda, and he is quoted in the first sentence of chapter 27 of James Lang’s book Notes of a Potato Watcher.
Most of the book is about “regular” potatoes, but the one section is about sweet potatoes. As a result, since I am reading the book, even though it is way too soon to be thinking about sweet potatoes, here I am, thinking about them.
The hunger-stopping capabilities of the sweet potato that Odeu was referring to are partly due to its hardiness and productivity, and partly to its keeping qualities.
In my yard, sweets also are productive and not prone to die from diseases, and they also keep through the winter just in a basket on my kitchen floor, so I am aware of those particular benefits.
What comes out in the book, though, is that in other, non-U.S. parts of the world, people prefer differently qualities in their sweets than we do. Varieties like Beauregard that are popular here are orange-fleshed, fairly moist, and very sweet. In other countries, sweets that are more dry, less orange, and less sweet are more popular.
Part of this is a problem, because people in some of those places would benefit from the beta-carotene in orange sweets, but the dryness is attractive because that helps in storage; in some places, sweets are dehydrated for extended storage. The sweets are pounded thin for drying, then ground into a flour that is used (in many ways) in cooking. It would take a lot longer to dehydrate a Beauregard than it would a drier Ugandan variety!
This is relevant to my garden because I grow not only Beauregard, but also a Puerto Rican sweet. I got slips for these Puerto Ricans last year from my friends Jack and Becky. Becky’s family has been growing this particular strain in this county for 103 years. They were a cash-crop for Becky’s father.
However, when I have spoken with Jack and Becky about cooking these sweets, they’ve both emphasized that these are not like standard grocery-store sweets. I had already noticed that they benefited from added liquid after cooking, but Becky also said that putting them in the microwave to cook, like some people do with other sweets, just turns them into hockey pucks. I believe her.
The Puerto Rican sweets have good flavor, but they are definitely dry. They would probably dehydrate well. What this means is that I will be spending some time next fall, looking into dehydrating sweets. I don’t think I’ll be pounding them thin with rocks, Uganda-style, but the general concept is worth considering. Right now, though, I don’t have enough left to experiment on—only enough for another meal or two and to start slips for this summer.
Most of the book is about “regular” potatoes, but the one section is about sweet potatoes. As a result, since I am reading the book, even though it is way too soon to be thinking about sweet potatoes, here I am, thinking about them.
The hunger-stopping capabilities of the sweet potato that Odeu was referring to are partly due to its hardiness and productivity, and partly to its keeping qualities.
In my yard, sweets also are productive and not prone to die from diseases, and they also keep through the winter just in a basket on my kitchen floor, so I am aware of those particular benefits.
What comes out in the book, though, is that in other, non-U.S. parts of the world, people prefer differently qualities in their sweets than we do. Varieties like Beauregard that are popular here are orange-fleshed, fairly moist, and very sweet. In other countries, sweets that are more dry, less orange, and less sweet are more popular.
Part of this is a problem, because people in some of those places would benefit from the beta-carotene in orange sweets, but the dryness is attractive because that helps in storage; in some places, sweets are dehydrated for extended storage. The sweets are pounded thin for drying, then ground into a flour that is used (in many ways) in cooking. It would take a lot longer to dehydrate a Beauregard than it would a drier Ugandan variety!
This is relevant to my garden because I grow not only Beauregard, but also a Puerto Rican sweet. I got slips for these Puerto Ricans last year from my friends Jack and Becky. Becky’s family has been growing this particular strain in this county for 103 years. They were a cash-crop for Becky’s father.
However, when I have spoken with Jack and Becky about cooking these sweets, they’ve both emphasized that these are not like standard grocery-store sweets. I had already noticed that they benefited from added liquid after cooking, but Becky also said that putting them in the microwave to cook, like some people do with other sweets, just turns them into hockey pucks. I believe her.
The Puerto Rican sweets have good flavor, but they are definitely dry. They would probably dehydrate well. What this means is that I will be spending some time next fall, looking into dehydrating sweets. I don’t think I’ll be pounding them thin with rocks, Uganda-style, but the general concept is worth considering. Right now, though, I don’t have enough left to experiment on—only enough for another meal or two and to start slips for this summer.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Migration
I was out walking one of the dogs this afternoon when a small flock of sandhill cranes flew by, heading north. It seems a bit early, but I was glad to see them. They flew in a classic, sharply-pointed V formation, calling out that amazing stuttering trill (our battered copy of Peterson's field guide to Eastern Birds says it's "a shrill rolling garooo-a-a-a repeated").
One more sign that spring is on its way.
One more sign that spring is on its way.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Plant a Row for the Hungry
One of my volunteer activities is working at a Plant a Row for the Hungry garden (PAR). We take our produce to a local food pantry, where it can be distributed to people who need food. This morning, the PAR gardeners had a planning meeting.
This was the meeting at which we catch up on everybody's news, drink coffee, and try to figure out what we should probably try to do differently in the garden.
One topic of discussion was the condition of our tomato cages. They are old enough that they have lost some of the legs that are supposed to poke into the ground; as a result, when the plants get big, the cages fall over. A couple of people are going to look into alternatives.
Another topic was that a couple of our trellises need repair. We think this won't be hard to take care of, but we are sometimes mistaken about how long/hard such work is going to be. We will see how that goes.
Our Fearless Leader also told us the soil test results for this year. Apparently, the soil is very depleted and needs more 10-10-10 than it has in the past. After two seasons of Big Rains, this should not be a surprise, but it kind of was. We do try to maintain soil fertility, but we didn't manage it as well as usual last year.
Another topic was weeds. Last year, someone tilled the garden for us in early spring, which was very kind (it is not a fun or easy job) but then it rained and rained and rained, so we didn't get the garden planted and mulched in time to stay ahead of the weeds. It felt as though we spent half our time trying to slice/chop/pull out the weeds. This year, we are thinking about not tilling.
We already have spread a thick layer of leaves over about half of the garden and will spread leaves on the other half soon. We are thinking that we might just pull back leaves from the spaces we intend to plant, on the actual planting day, and loosen, fertilize, and plant at that time, working on one section of garden at a time.
The garden is fairly large, maybe 4,500 square feet, and is a traditional row-type garden rather than raised beds, so we are not sure how this will work, but we really do not want to spend another whole summer weeding. We think this strategy of keeping the garden thickly mulched might help.
What we expect to grow:
Marketmore 76 cucumbers
White Mountain half runner beans
Sugar Nut hybrid melon
Clemson Spineless okra
Assorted tomatoes, as disease resistant as possible (these are started from seed by the same gardener who starts our peppers)
Assorted peppers (the gardener who starts these for us chooses, and she does a great job of providing a wide selection of delicious peppers.)
Beauregard sweet potatoes
Kennebec potatoes
Bush beans (I don't remember the variety name)
Seminole pumpkin squash
Trombocino squash
Yellow straight-neck squash
Carrots, variety unknown right now because we haven't grown them before in this garden
Our goal is to produce as much usable food as we can from our space. We don't plant a fall, winter, or spring (other than the potatoes) garden, so everything we grow needs to work in a traditional summer garden. The food we grow has to be familiar enough that the people who receive it can easily use it in meals, and the food pantry can't accept greens, because it doesn't have enough cool storage space to keep leafy veggies in good condition. These factors limit our choices of what to grow, but also help us choose wisely.
This was the meeting at which we catch up on everybody's news, drink coffee, and try to figure out what we should probably try to do differently in the garden.
One topic of discussion was the condition of our tomato cages. They are old enough that they have lost some of the legs that are supposed to poke into the ground; as a result, when the plants get big, the cages fall over. A couple of people are going to look into alternatives.
Another topic was that a couple of our trellises need repair. We think this won't be hard to take care of, but we are sometimes mistaken about how long/hard such work is going to be. We will see how that goes.
Our Fearless Leader also told us the soil test results for this year. Apparently, the soil is very depleted and needs more 10-10-10 than it has in the past. After two seasons of Big Rains, this should not be a surprise, but it kind of was. We do try to maintain soil fertility, but we didn't manage it as well as usual last year.
Another topic was weeds. Last year, someone tilled the garden for us in early spring, which was very kind (it is not a fun or easy job) but then it rained and rained and rained, so we didn't get the garden planted and mulched in time to stay ahead of the weeds. It felt as though we spent half our time trying to slice/chop/pull out the weeds. This year, we are thinking about not tilling.
We already have spread a thick layer of leaves over about half of the garden and will spread leaves on the other half soon. We are thinking that we might just pull back leaves from the spaces we intend to plant, on the actual planting day, and loosen, fertilize, and plant at that time, working on one section of garden at a time.
The garden is fairly large, maybe 4,500 square feet, and is a traditional row-type garden rather than raised beds, so we are not sure how this will work, but we really do not want to spend another whole summer weeding. We think this strategy of keeping the garden thickly mulched might help.
What we expect to grow:
Marketmore 76 cucumbers
White Mountain half runner beans
Sugar Nut hybrid melon
Clemson Spineless okra
Assorted tomatoes, as disease resistant as possible (these are started from seed by the same gardener who starts our peppers)
Assorted peppers (the gardener who starts these for us chooses, and she does a great job of providing a wide selection of delicious peppers.)
Beauregard sweet potatoes
Kennebec potatoes
Bush beans (I don't remember the variety name)
Seminole pumpkin squash
Trombocino squash
Yellow straight-neck squash
Carrots, variety unknown right now because we haven't grown them before in this garden
Our goal is to produce as much usable food as we can from our space. We don't plant a fall, winter, or spring (other than the potatoes) garden, so everything we grow needs to work in a traditional summer garden. The food we grow has to be familiar enough that the people who receive it can easily use it in meals, and the food pantry can't accept greens, because it doesn't have enough cool storage space to keep leafy veggies in good condition. These factors limit our choices of what to grow, but also help us choose wisely.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Potato Thoughts
I have been thinking a lot about potatoes lately, partly because I am growing some from seeds I saved (back in 2007) when a couple of potato plants in my yard flowered and actually set seed.
So far, my potato plants from seeds look just fine; they appear to be a lot less sturdy than the shoots that come up from seed-potatoes, but that is to be expected. The tiny true seeds contain a lot less in reserves.
I have no idea how this potato experiment is going to work out, but Carol Deppe, in her book Breed Your Own Vegetable Varieties, tells about a guy who breeds potatoes by growing the seeds. It really is the only way (besides random mutations) to get new varieties. The seeds grow for him, and the resulting plants produce potatoes. When he digs up the potatoes and discovers a new kind that he likes, he saves the actual potatoes to replant (the usual way) to increase the numbers of potatoes in that line, until he has enough to sell or share.
James Lang, in his book Notes of a Potato Watcher, tells about a different potato breeding effort, this one by the CIP (International Potato Council), to produce disease free starts, both cleaner seed potatoes and actual seeds, for farmers in developing countries.
CIP was working on this because plants that are infected by many diseases are less productive than uninfected plants. It turns out that the true seeds are much more free of disease than seed potatoes saved from an infected field. (Not a huge surprise.)
One way farmers in the Andes traditionally addressed this disease problem was that seed potatoes were typically produced at higher altitudes, where it was colder and the disease pressure was less. Farmers at lower (warmer) altitudes bought fresh seed potatoes every few years to get cleaner stock, when their potato production dropped.
CIP’s initial effort to grow potatoes from true seeds (as a way to cut back on the disease problems) was somewhat successful, but when the little plants were set directly into the field they did not produce well. What worked better was to let the little plants develop a tiny potato each while they were in the seedbed, then to plant the tiny potatoes in the field.
In the end, the CIP did finally develop a hybrid seed that worked well without having to wait long enough that a tiny potato had formed and could be transplanted to the field.
When I saw that bit in the book about diseases in warmer areas, I thought right away about my yard here in Georgia. Saving seed potatoes would probably not be a good idea for me, even if I could manage to actually save some from each year’s crop (we eat them all). The disease pressure here is intense for many kinds of vegetables. If my growing-potato-plants-from-true-seeds experiment actually works, I will be able to avoid the expense of buying seed potatoes every year AND avoid having to worry about whether what I’ve saved from last year is ok to replant.
So far, my potato plants from seeds look just fine; they appear to be a lot less sturdy than the shoots that come up from seed-potatoes, but that is to be expected. The tiny true seeds contain a lot less in reserves.
I have no idea how this potato experiment is going to work out, but Carol Deppe, in her book Breed Your Own Vegetable Varieties, tells about a guy who breeds potatoes by growing the seeds. It really is the only way (besides random mutations) to get new varieties. The seeds grow for him, and the resulting plants produce potatoes. When he digs up the potatoes and discovers a new kind that he likes, he saves the actual potatoes to replant (the usual way) to increase the numbers of potatoes in that line, until he has enough to sell or share.
James Lang, in his book Notes of a Potato Watcher, tells about a different potato breeding effort, this one by the CIP (International Potato Council), to produce disease free starts, both cleaner seed potatoes and actual seeds, for farmers in developing countries.
CIP was working on this because plants that are infected by many diseases are less productive than uninfected plants. It turns out that the true seeds are much more free of disease than seed potatoes saved from an infected field. (Not a huge surprise.)
One way farmers in the Andes traditionally addressed this disease problem was that seed potatoes were typically produced at higher altitudes, where it was colder and the disease pressure was less. Farmers at lower (warmer) altitudes bought fresh seed potatoes every few years to get cleaner stock, when their potato production dropped.
CIP’s initial effort to grow potatoes from true seeds (as a way to cut back on the disease problems) was somewhat successful, but when the little plants were set directly into the field they did not produce well. What worked better was to let the little plants develop a tiny potato each while they were in the seedbed, then to plant the tiny potatoes in the field.
In the end, the CIP did finally develop a hybrid seed that worked well without having to wait long enough that a tiny potato had formed and could be transplanted to the field.
When I saw that bit in the book about diseases in warmer areas, I thought right away about my yard here in Georgia. Saving seed potatoes would probably not be a good idea for me, even if I could manage to actually save some from each year’s crop (we eat them all). The disease pressure here is intense for many kinds of vegetables. If my growing-potato-plants-from-true-seeds experiment actually works, I will be able to avoid the expense of buying seed potatoes every year AND avoid having to worry about whether what I’ve saved from last year is ok to replant.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Surprise!
The good people at Sand Hill Preservation sent a couple of free packets of seeds with my order. Even though they have included a freebie every time I've ordered from them so far, I still was surprised. Then I read what the seeds were, and I laughed. More tomatoes!
The people up there in the office must know me pretty well and be chuckling mightily (is that possible?) over my imagined reaction, because I had my tomato areas planned out very carefully. Nothing more is going to fit. And yet, as a true gardener, I cannot just not try these seeds.
Luckily, I have time to rework the plan before 20 April (or there-abouts) when the tomatoes go into the ground in my yard.
The seeds are for Olivette Jaune cherry tomato and a red Chinese tomato. According to the catalogue description, Olivette Jaune is an indeterminate midseason producer of "large olive shaped yellow cherry tomatoes. From France." The Chinese is a midseason producer of "4 to 6 oz. red fruits, huge yields." We will learn, soon enough, how disease resistant the two varieties are.
The Wuhib paste tomatoes that were such great producers for me last year came from Sand Hill Preservation (purchased), as did the Yellow Marble cherry tomato (freebie)that produced so much earlier than all the other tomatoes in my yard.
Last year, the Yellow Marble tomatoes were very tart, but I was growing the plant in a container and I have since learned that sometimes the container can affect flavor, so I will be starting a couple of those to plant in the ground, to see if that makes a difference. If they survive (my yard is ground zero for Verticillium and Fusarium tomato wilts), even that will be something to celebrate.
The people up there in the office must know me pretty well and be chuckling mightily (is that possible?) over my imagined reaction, because I had my tomato areas planned out very carefully. Nothing more is going to fit. And yet, as a true gardener, I cannot just not try these seeds.
Luckily, I have time to rework the plan before 20 April (or there-abouts) when the tomatoes go into the ground in my yard.
The seeds are for Olivette Jaune cherry tomato and a red Chinese tomato. According to the catalogue description, Olivette Jaune is an indeterminate midseason producer of "large olive shaped yellow cherry tomatoes. From France." The Chinese is a midseason producer of "4 to 6 oz. red fruits, huge yields." We will learn, soon enough, how disease resistant the two varieties are.
The Wuhib paste tomatoes that were such great producers for me last year came from Sand Hill Preservation (purchased), as did the Yellow Marble cherry tomato (freebie)that produced so much earlier than all the other tomatoes in my yard.
Last year, the Yellow Marble tomatoes were very tart, but I was growing the plant in a container and I have since learned that sometimes the container can affect flavor, so I will be starting a couple of those to plant in the ground, to see if that makes a difference. If they survive (my yard is ground zero for Verticillium and Fusarium tomato wilts), even that will be something to celebrate.
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