Posts Tagged ‘gardening’
Ruthless Trimmer
I suspect gardeners with more skill and knowledge would cringe to witness my barbaric technique when wielding the ferocious blades of my hedge trimmer. I don’t so much as prune the ornamental growth and surrounding woods in and around the labyrinth as ruthlessly hack it back from impeding the pathway opening.
It had been too long since I last shaped the variety of plantings that decorate the walk through the labyrinth, and they showed it. I wasn’t going to get away with leaving a few odd trimmings on the ground as mulch because there was just too much of it.
Out came the rake and, eventually, even a pruning saw to remove some real branches before I could get around to pushing the mower along between the rock borders. The thick grass and dampness of humidity made the cut less than ideal as the mulched cuttings became a sticky mess, but the bottom line is, it has been mowed, which it wasn’t at the start of the day.
There still remain plenty of unsightly weeds and some tall grass in the nooks and corners around the rocks that the mower can’t reach. That will require some focused weed pulling or deft application of a string trimmer to bring down, but that will need to wait until I finish clearing the rest of the hay field and back pasture fence lines.
I am just as ruthless with the STIHL trimmer with the small gas engine when it comes to growth around the fences. It’s a great way to burn off any aggression if a person is so inclined. But that’s not me. I may trim ruthlessly, but I do it with love. Tough love, you could say!
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Gardening Again
The starters have had a few weeks to sprout and grow so it is time to get the garden planted for the season. I gave Cyndie a hand turning soil and hauling compost, she has done all the rest.
There were a few hours when it wasn’t raining on Wednesday, so we did as much as possible in the time allowed.
Cyndie accomplished pretty much everything except moving the starters outside into the dirt. When we woke up yesterday morning, steady rain was falling and our drainage ditches were flowing near their maximum rate. It was too wet to do anything outside.
Of course, that doesn’t mean we don’t still need to tend to the horses and walk the dog. Manure management is barely discernible from mud management. Walking reached the difficulty where an attempt to pick up one foot might leave behind your boot if you do it wrong.
You can’t try to lift your foot straight up or the suction holds the boot. You need to roll your step, heel to toe.
Our land is as wet as ever which I didn’t anticipate would happen coming out of a winter with almost no snow. That’s not all bad when it comes to growing a garden. Plants are much happier growing in wet soil compared to parched dry dirt.
I read somewhere that the British documentary series, “Clarkson’s Farm” about Jeremy Clarkson and his farm in the Cotswolds was releasing a 3rd season this month. Last week, I discovered Cyndie and I had only watched the first season. To prep for watching the new release, we binge-watched all the episodes of the Season 2 on Prime.
Even though it is very different from the experiences Cyndie and I have had for the last 11 years in our move from suburban life to 20 acres in the country, there are enough parallels to make the events of the show feel very familiar to us.
Since we haven’t had a professional television production crew following along every moment, my narration by blog posts will have to suffice for our “reality show” presentation. In my estimation, the stories of Wintervale Ranch and Clarkson’s Diddly Squat Farm would likely appeal to a similar audience.
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Already Planting
No time like the present to put sprouting garden plants into the ground I guess. Cyndie didn’t have much choice but to plant, given the way her pea and bean sprouts were frequently doubling their height inside our sunroom.
These little green creatures were in a hurry to reach for the sky, so Cyndie put them out in the dirt yesterday where they have room to get as big as they want.
They will be under a protective shroud to shield them from any direct poundings that our frequent heavy downpours dish up (Tuesday night’s outburst blew a downspout extender clear off the elbow). The covering will also serve them well should the overnight temperatures return to that fatal freeze point in one of nature’s harsher versions of a practical joke.
It pains me greatly whenever I have to witness wilted budding tree leaves after a final unwelcome hard freeze pays a visit in late April or May.
After the bumpy thunderstorms overnight Monday and Tuesday, the new plantings will have the benefit of plenty of fresh ozone and nitrogen oxides thanks to the frequent lightning strikes.
With the rapidly intensifying chorus of frog chirps filling the now humid evening air, one gets the impression summer is trying to encroach on the days formerly associated with spring.
Not that anyone around here is complaining about that this year.
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Garden Growth
I should never doubt Cyndie just because she does things differently than I would. Her all-encompassing dive into big-time produce gardening has been nothing short of incredible to witness. Where I would have considered planting just a few things to find out what works and what doesn’t, she planted more things than I can count.
Cyndie just counted them for me: 23.
Countable, maybe, but more than I can keep track of. I don’t know how she does it.
I have been eating fresh pea pods in meals for the last five days in a row.
Meanwhile, the wild black raspberry bushes finally sprouted fruit and Cyndie has been picking berries in addition to tending her gardens.
The growth of produce around here this year has been a wonder to behold. We’ve gone from zero to plenty!
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Starting Big
In the beginning, I was asked to build a terrace wall for Cyndie to have a produce garden. Seemed like a good idea to me. We talked about creating two levels in the space she wanted to use, but decided to focus on just the upper level to start. We have never grown our own food before, so I suggested we start small and learn what works in that location.
Just a suggestion.
The other day I saw no less than 21 different names listed in a text where Cyndie described what she has planted.
So, that one terrace I started building has been dwarfed by subsequent construction Cyndie undertook on her own. Fencing and netting, all hers, three different locations.
Plants are in the ground and awaiting some mulch. Woodchips are something I can contribute to her new project. The rest has spun up so quick it makes me dizzy just thinking about it.
When Cyndie bursts headlong into her projects, I tend to get out of the way. I am inclined toward sequential thinking and prone to plotting each step in advance before taking action. Cyndie operates more randomly and takes action simultaneously to figuring out a plan.
I guess we serve as a classic example of the attraction of opposites.
Here’s hoping she meets with an incredible success that exceeds imagination come harvest time.
I’ll be watching to see if my terrace does its job. The rest will be gravy.
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Not Simple
We really didn’t plan for this. I picture gardening as digging up some dirt and dropping in some seeds. Cyndie mentioned wanting to grow some of our own food. I’m not one to quickly volunteer for a huge project that only grows more laborious with time, but I was willing to support Cyndie in having a garden.
She suggested the slope and I agreed to create terracing to facilitate. From there, things have slowly evolved to include our simultaneous lumberjacking project to remove marked trees from beneath our preferred mature oaks. There is no longer anything simple about this modest little produce garden.
Yesterday, I finally felled the last, most difficult, trees from beneath the two oaks nearest our house. Only about 27 left to go throughout the rest of our woods.
We are wrestling with placing tree trunks that are almost too heavy to manage in place of creosote-soaked fence posts as the wall in the first terrace. The fact that none of them are as straight as first glance implies throws a real complicating challenge into my attempts to make reality merge with our fantasy of perfect results.
For her part, Cyndie is keeping the pressure on to complete this first terrace with her early planning and execution of starting plants indoors and testing soils.
The first peek of a sprout was from one of her lettuce seeds. I’ve never seen what a lettuce plant looks like when it goes to seed.
We now have data on the nitrogen, phosphorous, potash, and acidity levels in the clay-dominant soil on the slope, as well as in three different locations where we have stores of composted manure. Our hope is to combine the best of each to build a premium growing environment in this first terrace.
Seeing how involved this has become is a classic revelation of why I am not quick to jump on board with every idea that pops up. Sure, I’d love to have fresh food from a garden of our own, but can we get there by just digging up some dirt and throwing in a few seeds?
I guess it’s not that simple.
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Feeling Summer
I like the simple designation of meteorological seasons by month, over the astrological solstice and equinox markers. My brain senses the longest day should mark the middle of summer and the shortest day, the middle of winter. By meteorological reference, summer happens in June, July, and August.
It sure felt like summer on the second day of June this year. Last night, as we tried to cool the house by opening windows to the evening air, the enticing sounds of heavy, distant rumbling thunder rolled slowly closer and closer. Eventually, we enjoyed an almost gentle thunderstorm that this morning has left barely a trace of its visit.
Except for the amazing response of growing things. Our landscape is under siege.
Just beyond our deck, the previous prominent low spruce is getting swallowed by ferns from behind and volunteer cedar trees from the front. The clematis on our trellis is being crowded out by a volunteer maple that decided to make itself at home there.
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I don’t understand why the scotch pine to the left of the trellis is so anemic. Everything around it is growing fast and furious. It is possibly being hindered by the same affliction taking down so many of our long needle pines.
The ornamental reeds in our little garden pond are spreading themselves well beyond the edges, giving the impression they will soon fill the space if left unhampered.
Meanwhile, the climbing vines are voraciously trying to blanket all of our trees, the unwanted grasses taking over our pastures, and poison ivy is thriving like you wouldn’t believe.
What’s a gardener to do? I tend to prefer a hands-off approach to the nature-scape, but we are finding the land inundated with invasives and trouble-makers that require decisive action. Desirables like maple trees are sprouting in places where they don’t belong, and though prized, will become problems if neglected.
I must overcome my reluctance and sharpen my skills of seek and destroy, or at least aggressively prune, prune, prune.
In the same way we wish broccoli tasted like chocolate, Cyndie and I are wishing the desired plants would simply crowd out weeds to the point all we needed to do would be a little cutting of the grass and lounging in the garden.
All you folks wanting to suggest we get some goats… it is increasingly weighing on my mind. Maybe I will try renting some for a trial run.
There just aren’t enough hours in a day for us to manage the explosion of growth summer brings.
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Relative Something 