Seeds Are Here

Like most gardeners, I have a surplus of seed from years past. So I went easy in my ordering this time around. I only purchased from one company, my favorite, Baker Creek, and chose a small handful of things I have been eager to try. Here's this year's highlights.

Streamline and Scarlet Runner Beans - I've never had too much luck with beans around here. The summers are never hot enough to get really strong plants before the pests come in. Runners like cooler weather so we'll see if that does the trick.

Pepino Melon  - There's a lot of debate about how well this eggplant relative, native-to-the-Andes plant can grow in the Northern Hemisphere. It requires a long growing season, but tolerates cooler weather. I'm figuring since chayote, another Andean native, grows like a weed here, the pepino should do about the same. I'm also curious about the taste, which is said to be melon-like. I'll let you know. And btw, the chayotes that I put in last year grew phenomenally well.

Chinese Lantern Gigantea - Similar to ground cherries and tomatillos, this plant produces a husked fruit that can only be eaten when fully ripe. The husks are bright orange, which I think will be a gorgeous addition to the foliage on the farm. I've had great luck with ground cherries in the greenhouse and am not sure how these will fair in our cool summer.

Cucumber Dragon's Egg  - Yeah, I bought these because of the name. I'm a sucker for anything with the word "dragon" in it, like the Dragon Tongue bean from Baker that is oh so groovy colored and tasty. This variety of cuke, developed in Croatia, is said to be bitter-free. I have found that most varieties that produce well in Russian-ish areas, do well in San Francisco.

Mexican Sour Gherkin - These guys look like tiny watermelons and have a lemony flavor. I thought they might make interesting pickles. Also they have a 70 day growing season, which is just the right amount of time to fruit in our short summers.

Little Green Eggplant - Usually eggplants require a tremendous amount of heat to produce well. This is another Russian variety that might work in cooler summer areas. Fingers crossed. I would love to get an eggplant to fruit here.

Lemon Basil  - Well this one just sounds amazing, doesn't it? Who wouldn't want a hint of lemon in their pesto? This variety received rave reviews on the Baker Creek site. I can't wait to see how it does and what it actually tastes like.

Are you growing anything interesting or new this year?




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An Itty Bitty Melon

Well it certainly wasn't big, but since it was starting to get a little soft on the vine, I thought I better harvest it. Actually, it may have been the smallest melon ever grown. It must have come from some random honeydew seed that I saved last summer from a melon that a farm sitter left at my house. It was sweet and delicious and we savored it like a devout Catholic would with the Sunday sacrament (I love religion solely for the awesome metaphors).

I don't know if I will attempt melons again next year. You never know. The first time I tried my hand at  tomatoes, I came up empty handed and now I can grow them like weeds. Maybe, just maybe, that will happen with melons. Fingers crossed.


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Averting a Total Tomato Take-down

You know those times when you just want to say "fuck it", throw in the towel, and call it a day? I'm in that space as we speak. After a grueling 10 days of battling one nasty virus in which I did not get out of my pajamas, brush my hair, do the dishes, or stay awake for longer than three hours at a time, I have emerged from the other side with a "to do" list that would make Martha Stewart cry. Aside from my home looking like what hurricane Rina had been predicted to do to the Mexican coastline, the farm is at an all-time low. The fall/winter garden hasn't been planted, the compost pile needs to be spread over the beds, the hives need to be harvested and put to bed for the winter, the animal pen needs to be mucked, the goats need their shots, Ethel needs to get pregnant but can't seem to get that done, the animal pen needs to be sprayed to control the urine odors, the rats and mice need to be evicted, the lice on the goats have to go, the plants in the hoop house should be disposed of and composted, loads of crap needs to go to the dump, every inch of everything needs to be cleaned.... Should I go on?

It's moments like these when I wonder "What the fuck am I doing?". What possessed me to think that spending all this time raising animals, growing food, mucking crap, and in general, adding about 101 additional chores to my list of things to do was even remotely a good idea when there is a grocery store right across the street from my home? Clearly, I am a little bit insane.

To add to my tale of woe, in the midst of my sickness something was eating my tomatoes. I'm thinking mice or rats. But then there was also a serious fruit fly infestation. Even the green tomatoes were being affected. And this is where the pity party had to end. There was no way that I was going to lose my crop of tomatoes that I had doted on for six months to insect or vermin. Fuck that! Virus or no virus, something had to be done.

Somewhere on the interwebz, I had seen a nifty trick that some folks do in Italy. They harvest the tomatoes green, but keep a good section of the vine to get them to ripen up off the plant. I harvested 17 pounds of greenies and set them out on the front porch to redden. They are doing fantastic. A few got mushy, but not many. The rest will be put into the crockpot for tomato jam, one of my favorite preserves.

I am slowly recovering, but am still not 100% and we are at day 17. This bug really likes to loiter. In the meantime, I am trying to prevent myself from relapsing by not overdoing it. So I am off to chug some elderberry juice and get ready for Halloween festivities.

Anyone out there overwhelmed by their decision to "do it all"? What do you do in these moments to push through and salvage your efforts?







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I Did It! Where's My Prize?

Holy cluckin' crap, I did it! I freakin' grew a melon! Sure, it's only one melon and it hasn't made it to harvest yet, but I'm sure as hell going to crow about it. For those of you who do not live in San Francisco, you may not fully comprehend the magnitude of this feat. Our summers are cold and foggy, creating abysmal conditions for the heat seeking melon.

How did I do it? With my ultra fabu hoop house, of course. That little tunnel of polypropylene genius has added enough heat factor to eke out what would otherwise only grow in more torrid environments. Like this delicata squash:

I only got one of these too, but could have grown more, I'm sure, if that damn powdery mildew hadn't been so prolific this year. Here is a glimpse of the aftermath on that blight.

The tomatoes are another matter. They are growing like weeds, having planted them in straight compost and given them a warm, windless area to thrive in. This plump beast is called Rose De Berne (I grew this as a shout out to my Swiss heritage), which I purchased from Baker Creek Heirloom Seeds. Never before have I grown a handful sized tomato. Cluckin' amazing!

And the tomato plants are still thriving. I can barely move around in the hoop house it is so thick with vines. The pungent scent of tomato foliage makes my heart swell every time I enter.




I was also able to get some summer squash, though it, too, was crippled by the mildew. Eh, next year.



Right now, I am babying my prized melon. Not sure what variety it is - in my exuberance I forgot to label things. I made a cheesecloth hammock in hopes that "my precious" will make it to the table.



One thing I realized about my hoop house was that once the plants began to reach maturity, overcrowding and damp conditions had become a serious problem. A few of the tomatoes have molded from being squished within the deep recesses of stalks and leaves. Sometimes less is more. I must remember that more often.

Any special growing techniques that you had to use this year to accommodate your unique climate?


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I Grew This

In San Francisco. In one of the windiest neighborhoods in the city. Cucumbers are notorious for despising the wind. This is nothing short of miraculous.




My secret? That kick ass hoop house I built. San Franciscans and all you other folks enduring cold, windy summers, you gotta get one.

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Itty Bitty Beets

I have had many gardening failures. Usually I can figure out what has gone wrong: poor placement, planted too early or too late, not enough water, too much water, soil issues, etc. I learn from my mistakes and go on to produce the crop successfully, adjusting whatever needs to be adjusted. Occasionally, I will give up on a particularly problematic crop, especially if it is not well suited to our cool Bay Area climate. However, I am stumped by my lack of success with beets.

For some reason, my beets do not want to produce nice large bulbs. The seedlings languish in the ground for months, producing a few leaves but no round root. Eventually, the roots will begin to bulb up, but by that time, they are woody and still small. Btw, woody beets are nasty.

I've read that beets like consistent watering. Check. I've got my drip system in place and this year produced an amazing spring crop of carrots, whom also love consistent water, grown right next to the the Goldens, Chioggas, and Ruby Queens.

Beets don't like the heat. Um, yeah... that's certainly not a problem around here.

Beets like acidic soil, around 6.5-7 pH. I'm not sure what the acidity of my soil is so this may be the culprit. However, beets are said to be "easy to grow" so I'm doubting that they are that picky.

I know I'm the one that is usually dispensing advice on this blog, but today I am putting the question out to you, dear readers. What do you think is going wrong with my beet crops? Do any of you have some fool-proof tips for the beetroot challenged? I'm trying to get a handle on this before I put in my fall crops this next week. (Thanks to Rachel over at Dog Island for reminding me that it's time. I don't know what I would do without you!)






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June Happenings

June has been a weird month as far as weather. We've had several days of rain and howling gales that are more common for early spring. The rain hasn't been too unwelcome as it has kept the greens producing without watering, but we are already seeing signs of powdery mildew on the peas and the apple trees have white fuzzy fungus growing on them. It's not a lot of damage. The wind, however, is driving me nuts. I've always had a strong aversion to wind. It makes me irritable. Highly irritable. And it's pulled my bean plants out by the roots, bent the chard plants that I am trying to save seed from, and nearly ripped off the corrugated roofing on the animal pen that had been glued on with Sikaflex. Damn, that's an angry wind. No wonder I feel like I'm being rubbed the wrong way.

Aside from annoying weather, the apple tree is bursting with fruit. The bees have certainly done their work and it looks as though we will be heavily laden with apple pies, applesauce, apple whatever, and hopefully cider and cider vinegar. The husband is planning to make an apple press, but I'm not sure if he will be able to get to it in time. We should be wading through barrels upon barrels in less than two weeks.




Ethel says I need to repair this fence as the chicks keep escaping through this hole.




Speaking of the chicks, they have graduated to the big girl coop though are not so happy to spend their days with the full grown ladies. Sweet Pea is showing her not-so-sweet side by giving each chick a bit of what for. So they have taken to wandering under the apple tree for some daytime peace and weed munching. Today five of the six made it back to the pen while one of the Dark Cornishes cowered behind a piece of plywood. I think her legs are too big for her to get airborne. Two of the chicks even made it into the coop. That's a first and a good sign that I will spend less time in the evenings chasing recalcitrant chooks around the yard trying to get them to bed.




I'm really proud of the hoop house I set up in my neighbor's yard. Using only rebar, 1/2 inch PVC pipe, 6 mil plastic sheeting, and rubber-tipped clamps, I built the thing for less than $100. The neighbors only use the space to dump trash so I struck a deal with them that if I could use it to grow vegetables, I would keep the area neat and tidy. Thus far it's been an ideal arrangement and I plan to give them a good portion of the harvest.




The plants are absolutely ecstatic to be out of the wind and in some heat. The temperature is usually at least 10 to 15 degrees warmer than anywhere else on our lots. I've even rigged up the drip irrigation in there.




Look at these tomatoes! I was concerned that I might have to buy transplants again this year as I had left the seedlings out in the wind a few too many times. But once I popped them in the poly tunnel, all changed their tune.




I'll keep you updated as to how it works out. I've got more than a dozen varieties of tomatoes, several types of squash, a few cucumbers, beans, and melons growing in there. To think, I might produce a melon in San Francisco! If I'm successful, I will have defied the bounds of growing in a cold, foggy summer micro-climate. Good luck to me, eh?

Baby Bird Update - I'm pretty sure he found his mother. He flew out the window and has not been heard from since. I wish him the best.
 


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A Baby

Artichoke that is.



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Today's Harvest

Looks like we are having kale chips tonight.

Location:Mission St,San Francisco,United States

Container Gardening Experiment

Last year I believe I mentioned here that it is impossible for me to grow any heat loving, wind sensitive plants in my backyard. Thus I rely solely on my front patio to grow things like tomatoes. While last summer I used standard pots, with great success, to grow my toms, my harvest was pretty small because of the size of the containers - I didn't use anything larger than five gallons - and I got really sick of watering all of those thirsty buggers every day at the right time - water too late at night and you attract pests or water in the middle of the day, the water evaporates and you have a greater chance of burning the plants, which leaves the early morning and that's just out of the question for a sleepyhead like me. So this season I decided to try something a little different: self-watering containers. These puppies are supposed to keep the bottom of the pot consistently moist, encouraging the plant to put down deep roots, which is universally accepted as good growing technique.

Not being one to trust every newfangled fad, I thought I would experiment with a variety of types of self-watering containers: a homemade contraption similar to the EarthBox, a plastic bottle with teeny tiny holes buried in the pot, and an upside down plastic bottle with the bottom cut off and the top buried at the root of the plant so that water can be poured into the open bottom and delivered directly to the roots. At the end of the season I will assess which containers held water best and how well each plant grew and produced in it's environment. The latter will be more of a subjective analysis as there are too many variables that can affect production and growth.

With so much buzz these days about container gardening, I had been pretty excited to test out the EarthBox style. I basically used these designs that create a reservoir at the bottom of the container and use a wick system to pull the water up to the roots. This was by far the most labor intensive in terms of construction, requiring far too much sawing and drilling of PVC and plastics for my liking. I've heard that these guys will only last a couple of seasons, which better not be the case since it took me at least an hour to put together each one. Fortunately, I had a bunch of PVC pipe laying around so the containers weren't as costly to build as they could have been.

Another criticism of the homemade EarthBox type of container is that since they are recommended to be made with  Rubbermaid's Roughneck storage containers, they are rather unattractive, exuding more meth lab aura than Better Homes and Gardens magazine cover luster. Some folks like that look. I, however, am not a big fan, having grown up in the Midwest where there are as many meth labs are there are farms.

While aesthetics are an important consideration for me - these containers do sit in the entrance way to my home -, cost is also a concern. I wanted at least 13 pots and with the EarthBox's $30 price tag, they may look nice but my tomatoes this season would have cost me a pretty penny had I chosen that route. So I went with elbow grease and creative substituting of materials and came up with these:

I love the look, but quickly understood why the Roughnecks were recommended as the bottom of the purple container cracked under the weight of the soil rendering the water reservoir useless. The blue and green containers are holding up well, though.

I'm testing a few different types of reservoirs to see if any work better than others. With the help of my mini farmhand,

I put together three 5 gallon and four 20 gallon containers with this method. Here are a couple of the inserts that create the water reservoirs

I should have used a couple more of the four inch PVC pipe supports on these and will most definitely add them next year since one container has already imploded, leaving me with half a reservoir.

The other two types of self-watering containers are pretty self explanatory so I'll just show you pictures.

I also expanded beyond tomatoes this year with peppers, cucumbers, melons, and companion plantings of herbs and flowers. And I used straight compost rather than the pricey bags of potting soil that I went with last year. I'll report back at the end of the season with the results. If you have any questions about the construction process, drop me a line.

Pinching Plants

What? You don't pinch?

What do you mean "pinch"? I retort with a touch of haughtiness in my voice.

You know, pinch plants? If my grandmother were here she would already have her pockets full.

You mean take pieces off other people's plants? Isn't that like stealing?

No! That's called propagating. You can't call yourself a gardener if you don't pinch.

Won't people get mad? I'm shocked by my friend's directive and am a little perturbed that she is challenging my gardener street cred.

Well they shouldn't. Though there is nothing a botanical garden's groundskeeper fears more than a bus full of old ladies with sharp thumbnails. We'll get Nona to give you a little lesson in propagation.

My dear friend Kd, with whom I had the above conversation, was recently in town visiting from her homestead in New Zealand. I've mentioned her before on this blog. She's the granddaughter of the grandparents I adopted, Nona and Poppa. We had a swell time visiting and I got the added bonus of a garden lesson with Nona.

I'm embarrassed to admit that I didn't know about pinching. Of course, not all plants can be pinched and regrown, but succulents are excellent for this technique. And boy, does Nona have one incredible succulent garden. That lady has obviously been pinching for years. This is the boon I've been looking for as the DF is a huge fan of succulents and I had been planning to plant him a little garden.

Nona brought me out to her large raised bed crammed full of every kind of succulent and cactus you can imagine. She apologized for it's shabby appearance, but I thought it looked wonderful for a garden that she couldn't tend as often as she would like. Nona showed me how to get a bit of stem, if possible, under the leaf structure with a clean snap or cut.

She then instructed me to let them dry out for a few days so that the cut could scar over and not rot in the ground. I was told to pop the stem into damp soil, NOT WET. On this point Nona was adamant. If the dirt is too moist, the plants' roots will decay.

I walked away with over 20 different plump and juicy cuttings. Now I have to figure out where to put them. There is always that to consider.

Home

We've returned from "the happiest place on earth", which really should be called the most over-stimulating place on the planet, ready for the peace and routine of life on the urban homestead. If nothing else, we could all use a good cleanse in the culinary department after the all-you-can-eat junk food binge we've been on. I know I don't seem the type to make a pilgrimage to the Babylon ruled by a talking mouse, but my philosophy on life is much like the Zoroastrians: all things in moderation. Including hedonism.

I, myself, have extremely fond memories of Disneyland from when I was a child: the dizzying rides, the mountains of treats, the garish mechanical puppets. Though the sweltering heat and hoards of mouse eared devotees stewed in a landscape of over the top commercialism can feel much like a descent into hell, we had a thoroughly enjoyable time. To be sure there was unpleasantness to be tolerated. But I tell you, there is little that can top the expression on my child's face when after flinging pennies into every damned body of water on Disney property, wishing each time that she could fly, and then seeing her step off Space Mountain beaming "That was awesome! It was like we were flying through space!"

For all of you who only remember the Space Mountain of the 70s, let me assure you that it is nothing like that old rickety you-can-see-the-tracks-with-a-bunch-of-specks-that-kinda-look-like-stars roller coaster. The ride thrusts you into pitch black with a dappling of light flecks too dim to illuminate anything, as blaring video game-esque music pumps out of each car that twists and turns you through this simulated outer space at neck-breaking speed. We all gave it two thumbs up.

While we were away, my dear friend Julia kept the farm in tip top shape. We returned to find all living things happy, healthy, clucking, bleating, hopping, and growing. Here is an update on the various farm entities:

Goats

Lucy has become intensely "frisky" as her pregnancy progresses. I fully understand what those hormones can do to a lady, but poor Ethel has been taking a real beating, especially when it comes to food. At chow time, Lucy will do anything she possibly can to keep Ethel away from the grain, including headbutting with such force that it knocks Ethel clean off the deck. Lucy's high spirits aren't just reserved for her pal. She has given the chickens plenty of what for, but fortunately they are quick to scurry off. I, however, have not been as lucky. While attempting to get Lucy on her back for some hoof trimming, she gave me a blow to the noggin' using the side of her rock hard skull. I swear I felt my little mass of gray cells slam against the opposite side of my head. You won't be surprised to hear that I had a headache for the rest of the day. And to all you readers who may recall my pregnant hormonal episodes, just remember I never headbutted anyone... even if I did feel like it.

Chickens

Other than the a few scuffles with Lucy, the chickens are doing swell. I did hear that Eggo gave the farm sitter a hard time, refusing to go back into her coop at dusk. All the other hens were being good girls and going to bed on time, but Eggo just wanted to hang out with the goats to try and score some leftover feed.The goat food is like crack to the chickens.

Bunny Love

Julio is happy here on the farm, probably because I let him run around the yard eating all the dandelion greens he can stomach. His eye isn't getting any better so I think I'll have the vets do a tear duct flush when we have him neutered in a couple months. I can't wait to move him into the Green Bunny Playhouse, which will hopefully be done in the next couple weeks. Did I already tell you all about this project? I'll give a full debriefing when it's finished.

The Garden

I think the plants grew nearly five inches while we were on vacation, which is good because that's what is keeping them ahead of the rats. Those pesky little varmints are about to send my blood pressure into the stratosphere. They've figured out how to hop over the electric fence and have started in on the peas again. I've made some adjustments and that seems to be keeping them at bay for the moment. I'm not going to sit on my laurels too long as I've heard from my hubby that those assholes can chew through concrete. Some old fashioned snap trap reinforcements are going in at the weakest points of our electric barricade and around the chicken coop (sometimes when I'm out closing the coop door, I spot a couple pairs of beady eyes tucked under the lip of the nesting boxes).

Most of the veggies I've attempted to grow have done well, if they haven't succumbed to the rat invasion. However, there are a few exceptions like the chard which is getting wilty and brown and then being eaten by ants, the watermelon radishes which I've found some kind of creepy crawly on the bulb that looks like maggots (since these are growing fairly close to the chicken house, they may well be maggots), and the spinach which has a touch of powdery mildew (at least I think that's what it is). But damn, can I grow me some kale. I've got that stuff coming out of my ass. Even the bunny is getting sick of it.

The worst gardening blunder has been with my tomato and pepper starts this year. The seeds all sprouted nicely and then suddenly their growth was stunted like a malnourished child's, except the StupiceAnnie's Annuals and Perennials (an awesome nursery and definitely worth the trip, though I recommend going with a friend). I felt a bit ashamed at my botched job of seed starting, but as my friend Kd says "The only shame is not having any tomatoes at the end of the season." I kept those words close to my heart as I handed over a good chunk of change for some quality heirloom varieties. This year I'm growing Stupice, Thessaloniki, AAA Sweet Solano, Snow White, Black Cherry, Spike, Spain, Principe Borghese, Michael Pollan, Jimmy Nardello’s Sweet Italian Frying pepper, Gypsy Pepper, Rocoto, and Mulato Isleno. They're all on my front patio in a variety of types of self-watering containers. Keep your eyes peeled for a future post on the construction of these bad boys.

(P.S. I promise to keep up with posts this summer as there is a lot happening around here that I want to share with you all.)

A Lesson in Hardening Off

Sounds like a class aimed at porn set Fluffers, but alas this kind of hardening off is not that racy.

Sometimes I am amazed at how far I will go to cut corners. The truth is, I'm kind of a crappy gardener that way. I blame it on being a fire sign and elementally in opposition to growing things. I can say that because I live in California, where talking about your astrological chart in general conversation is as requisite as submitting a C.V. to a prospective employer. Fire signs have a tendency to burn things. You should see me in the kitchen. I'm notorious for burning food and/or myself. I also have a lot of air in my chart. And wouldn't you know it, this past week I burned up all my transplants with wind. You'd think that a year in private astrology lessons would have at least enhanced my self knowledge. Nope.

So here's the really dumb ass thing that I did. After diligently caring for trays of seedlings over the course of several weeks, I was eager to get them into the ground as they were clambering for more nutrition and root space. In my over excitement, I skipped that oh so crucial step of slowly transitioning the plants to the outdoors by giving them increasing levels of outside time over the course of a week or so, i.e., hardening off. The transplants might have been okay in a moderate weather setting, but when you've got a gale that could shame the north wind on the Gitche Gumee, you'd be a poor sailor to set your transplants adrift in that gusty blow. I am, sadly, such a woeful sailor, casting my defenseless sprouts upwind, like Captain E.H. Smith giving his final orders to leave the ship. This is the wreckage:

I would estimate that at least 50% did not make it and would be surprised if there were any survivors in the end. Fortunately, most transplants were peas and as I've said before, we live in a year round pea growing climate.

Postcards from Spring

Backyard Eats

OROAR is officially a success. I am pleased to report that we are now harvesting Red Russian and Nero Toscana kale, broccoli raab, and cilantro at least three to four times a week. Celery, parsley, carrots, and beets are looking good and it shouldn't be much longer until we begin to harvest these as well. The peas have a ways to go, but fortunately we live in a year round pea growing climate. Cheers to greens!