Transplants love drab weather

Tomato transplanted, early days

Transplants, like these tomatoes, do well in mostly overcast, even rainy weather for the first two or three days. Funny the way things in life can turn in an instant. One minute it’s put them in the sun, the next, welcome some cloud cover. My transplants start out under fluorescent light, a weak imitation of the sun: putting them out for a few hours, for at least two or three days, and back in to weaker light of the grow rack every night, gets them used to the sunlight. Once transplanted, though, they’ve got more to adjust to than sun. Their roots have been exposed and jostled. The nights usually get pretty cool in May, 20°F below what they’ve been used to. Maybe they sense the general vastness they’ve suddenly found themselves in, with a plant version of, “Oh my.” Whatever all is going on, it’s an adaptation. Full days of hot sun add the stress of having to pump more water into their leaves to keep from wilting. Although they’ll generally survive that sort of thing—as I’ve observed firsthand…—it’s easy to see the difference when the first few days have a good amount of cloud cover, and they really get rolling, stems thickening, the leaves turning a deep green. There are all sorts of ways, often way closer to ideal, to start seedlings indoors. For my simple, low-tech, rough-and-ready approach, this is how it seems to work!

In the photo: The little golden brown blobs scattered around are alfalfa pellets, used as fertilizer. They start of as hard pill-like cylinders, and expand to crumbly little blobs after being wet, then continue to break down as they join the soil food web.

Boldly low-tech grass clearing method

Clearing tall grass

An experimental procedure, effectiveness so far unknown. In some spots, sections of tall grass are swallowing the single strand of electric fence that has so far protected the veggie patch from deer. To keep a nicely unpleasant jolt running smoothly, the grass must be cleared! I’ve used various methods in the past. There’s been the 48″ deck mower on the tiny tractor. Running over the strip under the fence line with the same tiny tractor. Or the handy string trimmer, aka weed whacker, that spits out microplastic particles as the nylon cutting line wears down. And the low tech large garden shears. This year, I’m doing things as manually as possible. If I had a scythe… Since I don’t, and the garden shears haven’t been at all as quick and efficient as I’d hoped, I had a new idea. Lay down a plank under the line—here it’s a 2x4x8—to bend the grass, slide it over a bit so the strip of bent bottoms under the plank is exposed, and slice through with a utility knife, using the plank like a ruler. It went pretty quickly, with only 60-70′ (18-21m) in total of sections to do. And the grass is gone! Whether this really works we’ll find out in how long it takes to grow back. Hopefully, the cut grass will dry into a mulch that helps block future growth. I’m modestly optimistic—the minimum expectation for me to try it at all. Stay tuned!

Best not to touch!

Meet the oil beetle! When I see new insects that I don’t immediately recognize, there’s an automatic, “Who goes there?!” challenge in my head. So many little critters can do so much veggie damage, one can’t help a “you’re either with me or against me” reaction to the unknown. In this case, I have to identify this fairly spectacular, sparkly beetle, sitting on a thistle that will soon be tilled under. (More to follow… Think powerful blistering agent, voracious beehive raider,… I doubt there’s a single insect species that doesn’t have it’s own odd and elaborate quirkiness )

Robin at the window

American robin at the window on a snowy day

Looked down at the patio door and what did I see? A robin on the outside, standing right up to the glass between us, kind of looking back at me. Or maybe (more likely) seeing its reflection as another robin. It’s a bit of a surprise. Robins are usually summer company in the field, darting around, searching for bugs as I weed or harvest, not hopping around in near zero weather, in snow and freezing rain. It’s like being let into another part of their life. In any case, this guy or gal looks pleasantly plump and unperturbed. I’m glad to see they are quite all-weather and doing fine in the off-season.

Zucchini…

Baby zucchini

Always reliable, and still a pleasure, with a sense of wonder and a little relief, to see the first zucchini of the year appear. Weird? Maybe. You’d think after growing veggies season after season, at some point, one would get used to it all. For me, at least, that hasn’t been the case! For whatever reason: cool!

Wheel hoe vs weeds

Wheel hoe in action

A tool in its element! Wheel hoes are great, and this particular one* is fantastic. Unchecked, you can see what weeds get up to given a week or two. This stretch of dirt was protected under the edge of the row cover that’s been protecting the zucchini to the right from cucumber beetles. Now there’s a dense mat of dandelion (weed or excellent salad green?: right now, weed), thistle, mallow, and lambs quarter. And there’s the steel blade that will run through them, gliding just under the soil, slicing them down. Brutal sounding, and all part of the garden balance. (The zucchini have powdery mildew, those white splotches on the leaves, which usually happens when there’s not that much sun. It can get really bad and ruin things, but usually, zucchini will outgrow it. It’s about sunny days…the weather. Another “we shall see…”)

*I got this wheel hoe well over a decade ago from Valley Oak Tool Company, one of the few companies that are a pleasure to recommend, purely out of appreciation for quality product that does its job!