Almost 24 hours after the California Sierra trout opener, the fog has lifted enough for me to notice that at long last my big green beefsteak tomatoes in my upper garden were gently becoming diffused with pink. Elsewhere in my garden my yellow corn has thrown silk, the zucchini needs to be harvested and I have a large crop of bell, Anaheim and Pablano peppers hanging high up on their short stalks.
After a serious attack of the May grays, I had almost given up on getting any produce for my table. But then, two days ago, we started getting 7 hours of direct sunlight beginning round about 10 a.m. and the vegetables began to take off.
Hallelujah! My 2007 garden has been vindicated. The most surprising thing in the plot this year is my burgeoning potato mound, which is beginning to show cracks on its side as its Yukon Gold ripen within. I’ve added about 20 inches of screened lose soil to the mound already, and it’s just 22-inches tall by 32 inches wide and four feet long at the end of May. I feed the monster mound weekly with a 10 percent nitrogen organic feed weekly. I treated the mound with five ounces of bone meal before my first mounding in the hoped that the bone meal’s high p numbers would promote a strong central root—the secret to successful potatoes. Although I’ve chased away raccoons from the garden on two nights, it doesn’t look like they ‘ve disturbed the mounds by rooting around for the source of the amino acids carried on the wind but released by the bone meal.
I only have only one potato mound going now. The other tuber patch fell victim to blight, which I have kept contained in the lower garden. Blight can and will wipe out not only potatoes, but virtually all members of the nightshade families—including most legumes and some strains of heirloom tomatoes. I’ve covered the blighted patch with a plastic tarp staked deep in the ground now. Because blight is a fungus carried by the wind, I make sure rthe tarp is secure everyday. When growing season is over. I’ll fire up my tractor and excavate the dirt from that section of the garden and haul it away to a nearby development. Then I’ll blend up some mushroom compost and native dirt, test it for ph and nitrogen levels and then make sure a healthy blend of valuable micronutrients gets added before the dirt is put into the garden. Good gardens come from good soils and husbanding good soil is a key to sustainable organic gardening. It also keeps you out in the sun; playing in the dirt and getting a little more tan as you listen to your favorite gardening music (this week’s choice is a combination of early Little Feat and a wide selection of Jimmy Buffett) played loudly on outside speakers.
I’m extremely pleased with two things in my upper garden: first the alligator lizards I introduced to my patch in late February are feasting royally on the usual predatory bugs that plague my gardens. The ‘zards are now up to about 10-inches in length and no longer flee when I’m working in the garden near their territories, I haven’t seen any evidence of horned worm, cricket or grass hopper damage since I introduced the ‘zards so I’ll try to make sure I have at least one pair roaming my plants every year I garden. Next up, I have a new plant food I really like—Maxi Calc, which is a foliar feed that has 10 percent calcium on top of 10 percent organic nitrogen. The calcium blocks end rot in the plant and in tomatoes and is also quite beneficial for most cabbages and (when applied in a strong solution directly to leaves) most stone fruits. I’ve only sprayed the garden twice but the effect has been quite stunning. The beefsteak I thought would never get taller than 30 inches is now overflowing its 42-inch cage.
The new crop I’m learning about this year is how to grow Brussels sprouts. I’m patiently waiting for the pea-sized sprouts popping out of the joints between leaves and the talk to grow into full sized vegetables. What I’ve learned so far is that I should have removed the bottom layer of leaves sooner. If I had I would have forced the plants to grow taller, thus increasing the size of my crop. I’ve also learned to pay close attention to keeping weeds out of this part of my garden. The Brussels sprouts are sucking up all the feed I put on their leaves and into the ground and seem to grow best while the mornings are still gray and cold. I happen to like this member of the cabbage family, so I’m anxious to cook up my first batch of home grown.
Watermelons? Forget about it. I’m a complete failure when it comes to this species and I’m ashamed because of it.
Some people spend their time out golfing. Me, I spend two hours a day in my gardens, husbanding the nutrients in my dirt, pulling weeds and looking hopefully at ever swelling tomatoes, thinking of the day when they’ll finally ripen and appear freshly washed in my salads, sauces and stews.
Gardening. It keeps me tan, busy and forces me to exercise and use my stroke-damaged left hand. It’s fun watching the ‘zards watching me, and observing a plump little kangaroo rat wipe the strawberry goo from his muzzle. Jim Forbes, on his second bottle of sunscreen in the middle of the 2007 gardening season on 06/26/2007 from a little mountain top in rural northern San Diego County.
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