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Our 25th Garden Prologue I have plans to make a lasagna dinner for the farm girl I married after I finish this story. The Italian red sauce I’ll make it with was pulled out of the basement freezer last evening. I made it from tomatoes, basil, and green peppers we grew last summer. The date on the container reads 8/3/03. We both get a great deal of satisfaction growing food for ourselves. It’s a lot of work… a lot. But it’s not difficult really. If I can learn so can you. Yvonne grew up on a farm in Knox County, Ohio. And while I grew up on 5 acres… far from suburbia… the only gardens my working class parents ever attempted led to late August “watermelon safaris”. We would wallow into the weeds and when on of us kids fell over a melon… there it was.
Our very first garden was in back of our apartment. We shared a small plot with our neighbor. The thing was so tiny we worked the soil with a hoe. But I became amazed at the miracle of gardening. Anybody who has had a couple tomato plants on their patio knows how little space is necessary for a surprising bounty. Better… fresher food that you can buy at the local mega mart. Allis Still Lives Here
When we moved into our house… where we still reside… I would borrow my next-door neighbor’s roto-tiller in the spring. A couple years later he passed away and I bought Allis. Allis B Toklas… er… I mean… Allis Chalmers. This company made farm equipment for years and years… and if Allis is any example… they were a stalwart of American farming. http://www.allischalmers.com And Allis has been one of the most dependable relationships I have ever had with a… uh… machine… or a human being for that matter. It’s not as if I pay a lot of attention to her. She was probably 10 years old when I bought her… and that was around 1986. In that time I’ve had a tune up maybe twice. But every spring… when I pull the rope she starts up … belching a winter’s worth of sleep from her muffler. It’s that sound that signals the end of winter for me. If the weather is right … and I’m not being lazy … I’ll reprise my date with Allis in the fall to plow under the garden. But more times than not it’s just our annual “spring fling”. I’m hoping this tradition carries on for at least another decade. I don’t think I could buy parts for Allis if I needed to. And a brand new tiller… well… I don’t even want to think about that kind of betrayal . The Black Box
All year long we compost… food scraps… leaves in the fall… clippings… doggie doo doo (some recommend not using doggie poop. But Henri… well he’s a French Boy… and the French have marvelous poop.)… cuttings from the shrubs… ash from the fireplace. We even put empty clam and mussel shells in there. I have no idea whether that’s a good thing or not. I think it looks cool. (People will ask about this and I usually just say, “I dunno” and laugh… which is also pretty cool.) All of this, in time, turns into black gold… compost. At first we merely built a square pen with chicken wire and dumped everything into it. But more recently… especially after Henri had to defend his “yard authority” with the likes of a cantankerous possum a few times… we bought a composting bin. It is literally a black box with a lid. The thing works great too. Everything seems to break down that much faster. And it is somewhat of a critter deterrent… not foolproof… but animal confrontations have diminished immensely. Composting You can purchase composting bins that will produce new stuff every 6 weeks or so. And for someone with a lot of time to garden that’s fine. But neither Yvonne nor I really like to get too scientific about much of anything…especially things we enjoy. So about a week or two before planting…whenever the weather is pleasant and the ground dry…we shovel that winter’s gift onto the garden and I bring Allis out for our annual date of plowing under the compost. About 8 years ago the ground was wonderful. After all those years of composting it was beautiful, rich soil. But once we added a small room on the back of the house, that all changed. It was back to square one as they say (whoever “they” is). And where all that beautiful, black dirt went is anybody’s guess. Perhaps “they” took it. Or the contractors stole it. Who knows? Yet the ground this year is much better than a few summers ago. We’re well on our way back to quality dirt. And who wants to go through life living on anything but quality dirt? Not us. Not even Henri… and he always seems to find…despite the little fence around the area to keep him out… a delicious tid bit of garbage to scarf down.
Planting
Yvonne insists on planting the ENTIRE garden on or after May 15th. That’s her magical date and I have no reason to question it… although being a husband I have to every year (It’s in the manual!) and she’s right about it. So when it’s close to planting time I pick a dry day and go over the ground with Allis one more time. Once again, not having the time to begin with seeds, we buy plants at a reputable nursery and plant them in rows according to pest control and plant interaction guidelines. We never… ever… use pesticides or fertilizers. Although this year I did throw in some worm castings I bought at the food co-op down the street. Worm castings are… well… worm shit in a bag. So I threw that in there thinking, “what could it hurt? Plants gotta love worm shit right?" Sounds logical to me. Also, surrounding the entire garden with marigolds will help keep down insect pests. And it adds a nice look too.
Weeding This chore is by no means fun. But a couple of years ago I finally convinced Yvonne (farmers and their grand-daughters can be pretty pig headed!) we should get a small tiller for in between the rows. That way, at least you only have to weed close to the plants. So we bought a small machine from Sears… you can get one for as little as $200… and named it Baby Thor after a friend of ours, whose nickname was Thor. He died a few years back so it’s nice to think about a life affirming friendship while taking care of unsightly weeds. Believe it or not… stubborn Yvonne is now a true believer of the value of a small roto-tilling machine. This is one of the few arguments I’ve won through the years so I’m letting everybody know about it!
Watering Rain… as polluted as it can be at times… is always better than watering with city water… as long as there isn’t too much of it. There’s nothing you can do about an abundance of precipitation except hope for the best. When the earth gets dry make sure to hose your garden down for at least 10 or 15 minutes or until the ground is relatively saturated. Use a gentle but firm spray. Don’t get all macho about the spray or else you might be heading to the store for more plants. (Farmer’s daughters are unappreciative of such machismo outbursts in the garden.) This chore isn’t so bad really. It’s a lot easier to drink beer while watering as opposed to say… weeding… or roto-tilling!
Epilogue Our 25h garden is in it’s 7th week or so now. You can see the progress in the pictures. Before long things will be coming to fruition and we’ll be trying to keep up with the cherry tomatoes and I’ll be making red sauce to be enjoyed in the months to come. I’ll keep you posted as to the garden’s progress in the next issue of Naked Sunfish.
Until then… so long… Alli's “Same Time Next Year” Boyfriend |
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