We Made it Through the Rain
The entire month of June was a wash, but the rain has finally cleared. We have had two sunny days in a row! The lack of sun left things looking a little short.
finally, some sun!
Now, a week later, things are really taking off. I noticed that my corn is only a little bit shorter than the what the farmer down the road has (sweet!), and there are tomato fruits forming. All is not lost–except for all my June flowers.
Beans!
Morning dew on broccoli
This is my favorite time of year: this is when the garden is self-sufficient. I don’t have to weed, the roots are deep enough that they don’t need constant watering, and only occasionally I have to train a vine or tie a stem. Yay!
Rain, rain, rain…
It’s been raining for what seems like forever. Day after day, it’s rain, clouds, and mild temperatures. Certainly nothing that’s helping anything but the lettuce.
Today I found a moment to get the watermelons in the ground.
Baby watermelons, waiting to grow
I also took time to risk translplanting the renegade pumpkin that sprouted earlier than planned. Last year I learned a lot about how much room pumpkins really take. Very quickly this one plant has reached across and covered the beans (I had hoped it would go the other way).
Last year's pumpkins, sprawling everywhere
Dry Your Grass Clippings!
The sign had to come down; five to eight bags of clippings per week was proving to be too much for me to handle.
I thought I could just dump the bags and spread the clippings as mulch, letting nature take its course. However, I’ve learned that you have to let the clippings dry before you can use them as mulch. Quite quickly I’ve developed a wet, matted mold problem. So this afternoon I forked the clippings across my yard to let the sun dry them. When I get a moment this week I’ll run the mower over them, mulching them into tiny pieces that will dry up even faster. Without proper air flow, the bacteria can’t do their work to compost the clippings. An frankly, wet, moldy clippings stink.
There’s still lots and lots of clippings that need drying; I’ve really got my work cut out for me. Eventually I’ll get this down to a science. In a year or two I’ll know the exact volume I need to mulch everything, and I’ll get it dried quickly. Until then, live and learn.
Images from Around the Farm
I finally remembered to bring my camera home from work. At varying points throughout the season I like to photographically record the progress of what’s growing. Beyond a physical record of what’s happening, I find plants simply beautiful to photograph. Here’s what I saw today.
Teeny red Romaine lettuce
Baby corns
New bean
Peony
Heirloom Seeds at Etsy
Check out Etsy for reasonably priced heirloom seeds and plants. And of course for other great artisan items.
More on Grass Clippings as Mulch
The sign still stands: Wanted, Grass Clippings [drop off here!]
Since the last batch of deliveries, I’ve had a few friendly neighbors stop by with small deliveries of their fresh clippings. This afternoon I came home to five bags full of the sweet stuff. My hope is that I can meet some of these nice folks, and strike up a partnership that will net me their clippings, and give them some fresh veggies.
I don’t want to take down the sign, for fear my supply will dry up, even though I already have more clippings than I can use. This afternoon I took the whole pile of new deliveries and spread it out on the grass to the left of the Suburban Farm. My intent is to create an addition to the bed over the course of the season by suffocating the grass below. Hopefully next spring I can turn it under and have a fresh bed to grow more goodies. As I continue to receive deliveries–I may have to pull the sign by July or early August–I’ll pile them next to the shed as a second compost heap.
I felt like a farmer, using my pitchfork to tear and fluff those piles of grass. It smelled like sweet, wet hay, and I really dug and struggled to spread everything out. For a moment I thought, “what have I gotten myself into?” I have committed to a huge swath of grass clippings just lying on my lawn. Not the typical thing you’ll find in most well-manicured suburban yards. But, as I reiterated today to my grass-loving neighbor, I don’t care very much about the yard. I’d rather use the space to grow good things to eat.
More to come as I see what happens to this self-composting bed of clippings.
Progress!
Things have been slow around the Suburban Farm, but finally, there’s progress. On a comp. day, I managed to plant the entire farm: carrots, peppers, broccoli, onions, corn, beans and lettuce. The lettuce, generously donated by a coworker, is growing in containers in the back of the house.
The Suburban Farm, May 2009
Cucumbers, tomatoes, pumpkins and watermelons will be along shortly.
This is the second year I’ve had this plot, and what’s so fantastic about the second time around is that it doesn’t take as much work to prepare the soil. No tilling, just a hearty does of digging and turning. Last year I mulched heavily with grass clippings donated by my neighbors. It’s like having a self-contained compost heap. As I turned the soil this year, not only did I notice how quickly my shovel sank into the earth, but I saw more worms, a sure sign of soil health.
Again, I’ve put out the call for grass clippings. It’s risky business, but something I think is worth it. Who knows what you’ll get, and there’s rarely a chance you’ll get anything chemical-free. However, I think the risk is worth it; there are too many benefits to using grass, or any other organic matter–to mulch your garden.
For the five days the farm went without grass clipping mulch, I fretted about the seeds drying out, and crab grass taking over.
Putting out the call
There seems to be two donors of grass clippings: the person with the rancid bags of moldy grass, and the guy with the amazing, succulent, emerald grass. The former bags their clippings, ties off the ends, and leaves them sitting around. When I open the bags I’m greeted by a rancid odor of wet, clumpy grass, matted and moldy. It’s really gross. But what am I going to do, add an addendum to the sign? Instead, I fork it across the ground, fluffing and fighting the matted moldy areas. The smell of yesterday’s donation is abating; it’s turned from rancid to a pleasant farm odor. In a day or two I expect it to be odorless.
I could spend my days rolling in the clippings given by the second donor, and I wasted no time scooping the sweet grass into my arms and sprinkling it about the rows. I mulched heavily around the established plants, and sifted lightly over the soon-to-emerge seeds. I don’t know if the seeds have the power to blast through three inches of mulch, so why chance it?
If I see that man again, the one with the amazing grass, I’m hoping to strike a deal: leave me your clippings. All of them, every week. I’ll take down the sign, and I’ll give you some vegetables. I just can’t get enough of that sweet, perfect grass.
Life Gets in the Way
If I’ve learned anything in the past five years of owning gardens, it’s that life has a way of encroaching on your best intentions.
Case in point: I haven’t posted in a month. And the most work I have done outside is to turn my compost and two rows of the Suburban Farm. But isn’t that the point of the Suburban Farm? I’m not a farmer; I’m simply trying to incorporate “farming” into my middle-class suburban life.
However, we are still barely into spring. Anything can happen in this fickle New England climate. Though I’m behind with starting my seeds in their trays, Mother’s Day is really the time to put things in the ground. Until then, here is a short list of what I’m thinking of growing this year:
Tomatoes (back by popular demand!)
Peppers (new)
Corn (new)
Wheat (new, and bold!)
Garlic (new)
Pumpkins (encore performance)
Acorn squash (new)
Eggplant (new, but we aren’t sure who will eat it)
Kale (new)
Lettuce (new)
Herbs–basil, cilantro (hoping for better success)
Asparagus (new)
Carrots (new, and hopefully improved)
A Little Dibble’l Do Ya
My new wooden garden dibble arrived this week, and I’m very excited to get out there and make proper holes for my seeds and plants.
WoodElements.etsy.com
I’m especially excited about the measurement notches. As a notoriously bad guesstimator of measurements, I’m hoping this little tool will prevent unintentional seed entombment.
I’ve nearly completed my list of this year’s crops, and this year I’m considering wheat. Wheat is an exciting development in my plan, and I can’t wait to finish my research and get my hands on some spring wheat for planting. There are some nice spaces on the back of the house that would do very well with a sea of wheat, rather than some dry gravel beds. Given the dramatic rise in food prices, the demand for wheat is at an all-time high. Proof that it helps to subsidize your own food consumption.
Serendipity
One of the most rewarding things about working on my suburban farm is when I come across the unexpected. You can plan everything to the best of your abilities, but fun surprises make for some pretty awesome rewards.
For example, this afternoon I found a whole crop of carrots hiding out in the little spot where I planted them last summer.
Carrots, discovered after the snow and frost abated, March 2009
I swore these carrots were a resounding failure. Back in late August, well after their 75 days had ticked away, I plucked one green, fluffy top from the soil, only to discover the most pathetic, anemic root I’d ever seen. So I tossed it, and considered the rest of the crop a failure.
Today I decided to pluck one of the old carrots, and discovered a fat orange root. Wow! So I pulled the rest, and came away with four edible carrots.
Now I’m rethinking carrots in the farm this year. I hadn’t planned on growing them, but now I’m excited about making a better go of it.
The Suburban Farm 