Who needs sides when you have ratchet tie-downs?! A load of harvested garlic, stacked on a trusty hand wagon that has been trundling around all sorts of things for many, many years. They’re off to be stacked on a wire table in the barn to dry out!
Harvest
As the leaves die back
The rule of thumb for garlic harvest, as far as I’ve gathered, is they’re ready to come out when the bottom third of the leaves, or 2-3 leaves, start dying back. I’ve always sort of followed that, but mainly checked by harvesting two or three from different spots every couple of days, starting when the first leaves begin to yellow, how often depending on the weather. This year, because they’d been under row cover the whole time—the anti-leek moth strategy—getting 15% less sun according to the cover specs, I decided to wait longer. They were uncovered into full sun about 10 days ago, and I decided to let them do all the clove growing they could do.
There may be a more scientific, measured way of timing the harvest on big commercial garlic farms. Sensors could be involved! On this smaller scale, an educated guess and harvesting samples has been my approach. If the last month was very wet, an earlier harvest is a good idea. One extraordinarily wet June, rainy and always overcast, left the garlic sitting in pretty damp soil all the time. Even harvested early, at least half had swollen and split the skins at the bottom, making them not great for through-the-winter storage.
Garlic apparently does most of its clove growth as the leaves start to die off—a change of focus. This continues till about half the leaves have started dying back, which makes sense of the rule of thumb. Once the yellowing starts, it goes pretty fast. The idea of not letting them yellow too far is that every leaf blade is a layer of the papery skin that holds the bulb together. The leaves extend right down around the cloves, and once they’re dead on top, they could rot underground. But, if it’s not real damp down there, the buried leaf just starts to dry out. So if it looks alarmingly dead up top, it shouldn’t be a problem, more like the bulbs have started curing—drying out—in the ground. I’ve been checking.Doesn’t sound very precise, in this precisely measured digital world. And these field guesses can be wrong. Overall, though, going by simple experience, topped up by reading and chatting, continues to work out just fine!
Mud on the leaves
[From yesterday] Unless someone went wild with a hose, mud on the leaves is a sure sign of heavy, pelting rain. It came down this afternoon while I was on a supply run to town, hidden away in a giant box store, completely disconnected from big weather events (that is, until the power went out, which was its own little adventure in a dimly lit cavern). Back in the field, taking stock, the veggie plot was nicely watered in, the rain gauge read a decent half inch (1.25 cm), and no plant problems, just mud-splatter.
These potato plants do a good job of illustrating the ability of pounding rain to throw up a startling amount of dirt. Still, it’s really only of particular veg garden interest if you have to harvest in quantity. Grabbing some salad greens for dinner, a quick mud rinse and into the salad spinner, no problem. On the other hand, harvesting quantities of lettuce, baby salad greens, beets, radish, and carrots with tops, anything with leaves low to the ground right after a deluge becomes instant extra rinsing work. Which adds up! Of course, rain is manna from heaven for growing stuff. We can’t ever wish rain away, at least not around here (well, not most years). Harvest mud is just one of those things to take in stride…
Small potatoes
At the end of a brutally dry and hot summer, late planted potatoes manage to come through, tasty though overall quite tiny. Intended for personal use, a little winter stash that won’t last long!
Curing garlic
The invasion of the leek moths a few weeks back left the garlic somewhat ravaged but unbeaten. The moth larvae seem to have been stopped up top, snipped and pinched and dug out before they had a chance to tunnel their way down through the stems, reaching the bulbs, and eating into them as well. Instead of that, the harvest has turned out just fine. The bulbs overall are a bit on the smaller side, but the cloves are nicely filled out, so…all’s well. A few weeks of air drying till everything’s woody and brown, then done!
Early mini-harvest
A small harvest of spinach and bok choi for dinner! It’s always a pleasant little shock to taste the first of the season’s garden-fresh veggies. After the winter months when the only fresh produce is grown in faraway lands, it’s a treat. In recent years, I used to buy a limited amount of veggies in winter. Onions if I ran out of my own. Green onions. Sometimes cauliflower and broccoli. Salad mix. Nowadays, I freeze spinach, kale and cauliflower. That, along with stored beets, carrots, and winter squash, covers most of the winter. So, for food satisfaction, the first new harvests every year are a big deal! :)
Bonus onions!
Leftovers from the previous season can turn into a delicious spring surprise! These onions grew from ones that were overlooked during fall harvest, and in a spot that hasn’t yet been tilled. There’s an official name for this: volunteering. Strictly speaking, I think a volunteer plant means it comes from seed dropped by a previous crop, or carried in by wind, birds or otherwise. These onions are new growth this year, from mature onions left in the ground over winter, kind of like leaves coming back on a tree. In any case, I think of them as volunteers, but mostly as a tasty treat.