weeds

Flowers, Cats & Weeds

June 23, 2015

Bouquets in my house are cyclical: snowball viburnums (my favorite), followed by lilacs (my favorite), then peonies (my favorite)… and then there is a lull. I’m in the lull. I cobble together whatever I can make look good. I’ve got a couple borage blossoms with some immature hydrangeas (my favorite), Lady’s Mantle (my favorite) and two stems of peonies that — if you bump — will fall apart because they are pretty much almost dead. After this, I’ll hope for lots of sunflowers (my favorite). But, as summer progresses, I’m less good about cutting flowers. Not sure why. I always regret it when they are gone.

Anyway, on to another subject: I’m done picking the asparagus. It was a good run. I was toying with the idea of replanting some new crowns, since mine are almost 20 years old now and seem to be slowing down. But seriously. I give 7/8ths of it away. My asparagus could get a whole lot worse than it is now and I’d still have enough to force on the UPS man. So that items gets ~~crossed off the list~~.

I love crossing things off the list.

I think I might have mentioned weeding the asparagus in the last post. Something to the effect that I would weed after the next significant rain. Since it has rain significantly just about every other day in the past month, I really have no excuse.

I began the process this weekend.

This is not weeding for the faint-of-heart. It requires digging and lifting and shaking and swearing. Lots of swearing. Cuz that’s what you do when the weed breaks off instead of: slowly… slowly… giving way as you pull… pull… it’s coming… uhhhhh…. slowly… YES!

[That’s what successful weeding should sound like in your head.]

When it sounds like this: slowly… slowly… giving way… it’s coming… SNAP. Then you yell, “SHIT.” And wipe your dripping face off with a muddy glove (so it looks like you are reeeeally working hard when your Dave comes out to see what you are doing).

I didn’t finish all the beds because we had a grad party in another time zone to blast off to.

I don't know if it makes any difference, but I don't throw weeds in the compost. I let it rain into the wheelbarrow, then wait for them to start to decompose, then wheel them into the woods. Why don't I do it right away? — I don’t know if it makes any difference, but I don’t throw weeds in the compost. I let it rain into the wheelbarrow, then wait for them to start to decompose. When the whole mess gets really, really stinky, I dump the now 3x heavier load into the woods.

Leaving weeding unfinished is always a bit of a gamble. Will it ever get done? I’m going to try to finish it up today because, well… it rained another inch this morning. So I have no excuse.

This is where I left my tools on Saturday. Today, they are muddy and wet from another inch of rain. Why don't I ever put my toys away? — This is where I left my tools on Saturday. Today, they are muddy and wet from another inch of rain. Why don’t I ever put my toys away?

But here’s the thing about weeding — any weeding, really. It is so supremely SATISFYING. Who among us has not spent an afternoon weeding who didn’t then go way, way out of their way to walk past the weeded area and stand there and simply admire it? In my case it goes on for several days.

I tend to stop doing that about the time the weeds show up again.

Actually. This whole process pretty much sums up the definition of insanity, now that I think about it.

Mooshie comes in for some hot and humid fur-to-skin transfer

In an effort to appeal to a wider audience, here are some more cat pictures.

Ollie helps me fold the blanket — Ollie helps me unfold the blanket

Ollie helps me put new sheets on the bed — Ollie helps me put ‘clean’ sheets on the bed.

It’s Never Too Late To Start A Garden

July 3, 2010

Take it from one who knows.

Due to a serious lack of character, I never got around to planting my squash, melons and pumpkins in their dedicated patch. You may remember part of the reason why from the pictures I posted when writing about Strawberries back on June 4th. For your convenience, here is what the patch looked like on planting day:

So, it goes without saying that it got stuck on the back burner for a while. As soon as Charlie was out of school and bored (his sister was not yet out), we went to town weeding:

It looked marvy.

Well, maybe not marvy, but then we got all that old fabric off of there (the best we could, read below) and took apart my old cold frame and then it looked marvy:

But then the rains started.

It rained all June. Buckets and buckets.

That square patch turned into a slimy, gooey, clay-ish, nightmare. While I waited for it to dry out a bit, I started the seeds in pots to get a “head start”.

I was also battling with Dave, who insisted I put down more landscape fabric to keep down the weeds. He had bought some, which — I admit — was really nice and thoughtful of him. (Have I told you that he has started being nice and thoughtful lately and it is really starting to worry me?)

But here’s the thing:

I am not convinced at all that landscape fabric keeps the weeds down in my pumpkin patch. I’ve had that patch for about 10 years now and I always have weeds. Here are my observations of fabric/plastic mulch:

It flaps around in the wind and rips. Because nothing is placed on top of the fabric and it takes a long time for the plants to grow big, wind (we have a lot of wind) catches the seams and rips it. Weeds take over where there are rips. So I have tried burying the seams with soil. Weeds grow there, too.
It disintegrates over time. I have tried both cheap and expensive fabrics and plastics. Given that they are exposed to the sunlight, they all fall apart after a while. The plastic rips to shreds and the fabric becomes a disconcerting mass of fibers that can’t be extracted from the soil underneath it. It’s like it’s part of the soil. It freaks me out.
I wonder about the contents of the fabrics and plastics and what they might be transferring to the soil, plants and ultimately, our food. Now, I know that sounds a little insane and over the top, but there are days that black surface gets hot enough to fry an egg on. We’ve all heard about BPA’s and the bad stuff in our food plastics. I can only imagine what is in the stuff that isn’t food grade? And how much of it is melting into the “organic” soil of my garden?

I tell all this to Dave, who just shakes his head in dismay. (I truly drive him crazy.) I will roll over to Dave if he pushes it, but we run out of time on that particular day and the topic is shelved for the following weekend. –Which passes in a blur of a pool day on Saturday with a friend and Charlie’s birthday the next.

So, as luck would have it, I finally planted the anemic and sad, waterlogged plants last Monday while I was alone and abandoned; Dave had taken the kids and some friends to the brand new outdoor Twins Stadium — with Champions Club tickets, no less (fodder for another post). For those of you keeping track, that was June 28th. In an area with only about 150 growing days in the best of times. And when you plant pumpkins and melons later than other plants, because they only tolerate warm soil (subtract 30 days), that usually puts me at a planting date of June 1 for those plants.

Nope. I’m almost 30 days past that. And pumpkins and squash take at least 100 days to reach maturity. I’m cutting it close. Oh well.

It looks pretty weird to have this gigantor area of dirt that isn’t all black and crumbly and beautiful. I guess that just shows what my dirt looks like after being covered up with landscape fabric for years, Dave!

Actually, it’s because we have clay soil and this area hasn’t been amended like the regular garden has. I don’t have enough compost to put over the entire patch, plus, it really was mostly covered by fabric for years. I usually only amend the individual planting holes. Which is what I did this year:

And, hopefully after being in some real dirt, instead of a rain-soggy pot, these sad yellow plants will perk up and take off.

It’s Never too late, I tell you. You’ll see.

Your Daily Lesson: Mint is Invasive

May 25, 2010

…Lest there is anyone else as gullible as I.

We are surrounded by things that should illegal: Motorcycles without mufflers, Barbie commercials that make them look like they can walk by themselves, food labeling that want you to believe a fruit snack is as good for you as the real thing, and

…plant descriptions that say, New! Clumping, non-invasive spearmint.

Wow, thought I. Non-invasive mint! Buy, buy, buy, buy. (That means I bought four of them). So excited! Plant, plant, plant, plant. And now…

Dig, dig, dig, dig.

Every. Single. Year.

I will never be rid of that mint.

You gotta admire the tenacity. It’s in the same league as my admiration for raccoons. I can’t deny they should be complimented on their tenacity. I’ve got an idea for a new breed of raccoon: hybridize them to eat mint and not chickens.

Anyway. Please, if you learn anything today, learn this:

What you order at McDonalds will not look like it does on TV, and
All mint is invasive, no matter what the label says.

In other gardening news:

Itty bitty apples have formed. While I can’t see the whole tree, it appears that I will have at least some apples, despite the frost. Yee ha. That means more apple jelly this fall!

Volunteer borage and sunflowers have been relocated to their rightful homes

For those of you with keen eyes, yes, this is the bed I just dug the mint out of, pictured above. Gardening for me is often this way. I go out to do something specific and find I have to complete three other tasks before I do the one thing I intended. In the case of the borage, I went out to plant the corn. But found I couldn’t plant the corn because in the bed I planned to plant it, were several borage and sunflower seedling volunteers from last year that needed to be moved.

You see, rather than start seeds or buy new plants, I just move around the ones that self sow and come up on their own. And this year, instead of putting the borage in with the herbs like I usually do:

(which always gets to be too crowed and chaotic, but you can see a borage volunteer right up against the chives, which I should have pulled but didn’t have the heart to. Oh dear…), I decided to put them in the center area where I usually have zinnias. I do love zinnias. I’m going to miss them this year. But:

I didn’t start zinnia seeds yet
I’m sick of buying them and don’t plan to go back to the garden store, and
They always look crappy by the end of the summer. I don’t know why. Maybe I don’t deadhead them enough?

They will be replaced with the borage which

Looks FABULOUS in a vase with sunflowers
The bees LOVE
Are nice enough to start themselves from seed for FREE

You can also eat borage and though I mean to look into this each year, I have never gotten around to it.

So anyway, I needed to move the borage OUT of the corn bed and IN to the spot planned for them. BUT I couldn’t do that because…

The MINT needed to be dug out first.

You getting all of this?

You starting to understand why I can’t get Jeanette’s brochure done for her?

Anyone want to call Jeanette for me and let her know all of this? If so, I would really appreciate it. Because I’m too embarrassed to call her.

So that’s it. I plan to go pick up my tomatoes, peppers and eggplants up today. I’m getting them from a FABIE local heirloom, organic grower. Total granola guy. He’s gonna change the world. Which is great, but all I really care about at this point are his plants. Which, if they are like last year’s, are stocky little healthy workhorses. Already hardened off. Amazing. It’s called Knightshade Gardens. If you live near me in Minnesota, you can reach them at 952-564-1714. They sell out in the western suburbs around Maple Plain.

Then, all I’ll have to do is plunk the tomatoes into the ground in their intended spot tomorrow:

GAK!

World’s Best Dandelion Digger

May 5, 2010

That is not an attention grabbing headline, guys. I’m serious. This thing is insane.

But, I suppose I should qualify that statement by telling you that my previous tool had been the same one my mom handed to me when I was 10 and sent me out the front door. You know the one — a 14″ long single handle fork. You had to bend over or sit on the ground, dig it into concrete-like clay soil, swear, curse and complain, only to have the dandelion break at the top of the stem? Yeah, that one.

So, when I say “World’s Best”, the competition wasn’t all that impressive.

Still. This is one amazing tool, if only for the fact that you can use it standing up. Many times, it gets the whole dang root. If that isn’t the most exciting, satisfying high, I don’t know what is.

And here is where I waiver a bit…

How important is it, really, to eradicate dandelions? Especially where I live, out in the country:

That field above is ‘prairie grass.’ Actually that field is weeds. I have no idea why the prairie grass didn’t take there, but we still treat it like prairie grass. And the weeds are definitely winning. So you’ve got this meadow of dandelions. And then you’ve got this manicured lawn butting up to it. And I waiver…

Cuz I’m a fairly organic kind of girl, and getting more so as I get older. I just don’t like the idea of rolling around in a sea of poison. But that’s what you’ve gotta do to keep the dandelions away unless you dig them out. And frankly, that seems down right impossible — though I’m going to try. Because Weed-B-Gone is about the worst of the worst when it comes to toxicity and longevity in the soil. I. Hate. Weed-B-Gone.

Now here’s where things really get hypocritical: I just fertilized the grass and the fertilizer had crab grass preventer. Dave bought it, not me, because he thinks my organic bend is silly and stupid. Yes, we probably need to keep the crab grass at bay. But has anyone read the bag? It’s SCAREY! That stuff sits on the surface of the soil, doing its thing for SIX WEEKS! So there I am with the dog, rolling around on little poison pellets. Isn’t that crazy? For a manicured lawn? Still, I’m the one who spread the stuff. I am surely a hypocrite or organic philosophy.

Now don’t be going all namby-pamby in the comment section. Yes, I have tried corn gluten meal, and other various organic weed control and fertilizer products. For years. And I don’t buy it. I think contractors use crappy soil, I think sod is crappy and thatch-ridden and you live with it and deal with it forever after. I have wild grass that has escaped the ‘lawn’ into the adjoining prairie, where the dirt is natural and isn’t part of the sod and it is so healthy! Too bad I don’t WANT the grass there…

Anyway. That’s my dilemma for the day. It is my debate for the duration. It is my anguish come August.

…And it is my life for the next week while I listen to The Seamstress on my iPhone and dig dandelions with the World’s Best Dandelion Digger.

Watch Out For This Garden Nuisance

April 21, 2010

And Harden Your Hearts.

Yes, I am talking about a flower: Violets. Johnny Jump-Ups. Small pansies. Whatever.

Do not be deterred. Do not be swayed by their innocent demeanor. These plants will ruin your garden.

Oh yes, they will charm you in the process, but be charmed and you have already lost the battle.

Trust me. This much, I know.

Here’s how it happens:

1) You walk into your garden on an early spring afternoon, shortly after the snow has melted and notice a single purple flower in a corner of a bed. It is breath-taking. Its tenacity stunning.

2) Each day that you are in your stark spring garden, poking around and getting the sterile gray dirt ready, or spreading the brown compost, you smile at the purple flower. It gives you hope. It is a look into the future of your garden. It makes you happy.

3) Weeks later, it is still blooming. It is sort of in the way as you plant seeds, but you have come to love this flower. Pulling it out would be wrong. It would feel like ripping your own heart out. So, you plant around it.

4) You eventually forget about your purple flower. It gets taken over by the lettuce, or the swiss chard or the beans. It disappears.

5) Or does it?

6) Fast forward 10 months. It is another first of many strolls through the garden on a warm-ish March morning: a purple flower! Where did it come from? So pretty!

7) They are more! Oh so fun! In the paths, in the dirt, in the grass!

8 ) Wait a minute… They. Are. Everywhere.

9) And you realize that something must be done. You need to take them out.

10) They are so pretty, so you dig them out and give them as gifts for birthdays of friends…

11) For your coffee table…

12) For your screen porch…

13) And maybe…. maybe…. you can leave just one to make you smile in the garden…

Sick of Hearing About Compost Yet?

April 18, 2009

I know, we’re all sick to death of hearing about compost. Even I, a dedicated composter, am beyond tired of the subject. But let me share a secret with you. It couldn’t be easier. At least the way I do it. Yes, of course when I STARTED composting, I did it like I do everything: with a gusto. I researched ad nauseum. Bought the “starter,” “activator,” “WHATEVER you call it.” I had a thermometer and a special composting bin! Oh baby, I was gonna make some mean compost.

And I did, but what a Pain In The ASS!

Now, as in so much of my life, I have streamlined. My current system, shown above, is a two-bin system, big enough to hold real garden and household refuse. Let me repeat that: BIG ENOUGH to hold REAL garden & household refuse. I see ads for those stupid little boxes or balls that you roll around and laugh. What a joke. Please, do yourself a favor and save your money. (Unless, of course, you are a 74 year old widow and only generate about 2 bags of garbage a month and live in an apartment-then that size should be fine). For anyone who actually has a yard and cooks, those little 3 x 3 jobs are way too small.

compost_closeup After figuring that out, I upgraded to a ComposTumbler that promised finished compost in a dramatically short amount of time. So EXCITING! And it was HUGE! Plenty big for real life. (And also expensive! But who cared! Think of the money I would save on fertilizer! Or so I told my husband…) The ComposTumbler actually did work. The only problem was, it required work on my part. In order to get that compost quick, I was required to crank the damn thing every single damn day. That worked for about 2 months. Then, as always, I got lazy. (For crying out loud, it’s compost! Do I really need the stress of laying in bed at 11pm and suddenly sitting bolt upright and exclaiming, “I forgot to crank the compost!” I’ll save that level of excitement for forgetting to lock up the chickens.)

So the two bin system it became. Over time I have perfected my approach, which I helpfully lay out for you here.

1) Fill it up

2) Forget it

3) Empty in the Spring

compost_ready That is simplified of course, but actually quite accurate. Assuming you are just starting a two bin system, you fill up one side over the course of the season and that winter. Stop adding in the Spring and begin using the empty side until next spring. You do nothing to the first side after it is full. If it is exceptionally dry, I might water it now and then. I might crawl on top of the heap and occasionally jump up and down to flatten it out. I don’t turn it, I don’t add anything else. Honestly. I just let nature take its course.

In the spring, the first bin that had been overflowing it’s boundaries and spilling over the top is reduced to an impossibly small amount. I fill up my garden cart — usually two times — spread it over my garden beds, eventually emptying the first bin completely.

Because my system is not a “hot” one, I do not add weeds that have gone to seed because the bins do not reach an internal temperature high enough to kill the seeds. This is the one thing I am fairly fanatic about. Given the amount of weeds that I battle day in and day out, year in and year out, I think you can cut me some slack on that one. I just keep a big pail with weeds and when it’s full, I either throw them into the garbage, or lob them into the marsh (where they probably take root, bloom and blow seeds into my garden anyway. So really, what’s the point?)

Where was I?

Compost Spread onto Garden Beds

Also, because I never turn the pile or do anything to it, and because I never chop the compost additions into small pieces that rot quicker (because that, too, is a giant pain in the ass), As I fill the garden cart with the finished compost, I hand-pull any sticks, gourd skins and occasional egg shells that have not completely decayed. These items I toss on top of the other bin. When I am done emptying the side I am working on, I will place those partially decayed sticks and twigs and refuse on the bottom of the just emptied bin, allowing much-needed air circulation at the bottom of the pile.

Then, I spread the compost all over my garden. It is the only fertilizer I ever use. Over time I have watched as my heavy clay soil has become practically perfect.

Except for the weeds and bugs, of course.