Category Archives: Varieties

Harvests!

The first real harvests of the year have come in!

We got maybe four pounds of soleil beans this year so far. I thought about calling my grandmother to learn about freezing them. I didn’t end up needing to – we ate them all!

The squash have started suffering already…the heat, the fire ant infestation, the cucumber beetles spreading diseases, the powdery mildew from all of this (wonderful, unexpected, appreciated) rain. Still, they are managing to make squash. Say hello to my first ever, real-sized, on-purpose squash – the Summer Yellow Crookneck!

I’ve yet to pick these cute little guys, but they’re hanging in the heat better (they don’t have the fire ant issue either, which helps.)

This is my fourth or fifth year attempting squash, and the first time they’ve grown larger than my finger (we won’t talk about the years they didn’t set at all…)

Other first year successes after multi-year attempts?

Onions!

Every year previously I’ve either over-watered, or under-watered. Over-fertilized? Did that, too. Under-fertilized? Yep. Had a dog (not ours) dig through the bed, killing them all? Mhmm. Onions and I have not had an easy time, and considering I don’t even like eating them…I was kind of ok with this. However, DH eats them almost every day, so it made sense to keep trying. He was ever so excited to have this sweet one in his breakfast! What was the trick to my first success? Probably a few things all at once.

  • Don’t plant deep. Really. If you think you planted too shallowly, you probably need to plant a little less deep still. (If you’re me, anyway.)
  • Don’t fertilize the onions. Fertilize the soil about six inches down, four inches away from the onion row.
  • Water. Don’t keep soaked. But do soak when you water.
  • Let the caterpillar eat the tips of the greens, at least it’s not eating your chard again!

Another veggie that I’ve grown many times without success yet?

I could not believe how big this got! I sowed it just a few short months ago, as one of five carrot varieties. I tried carrots a few times over the last couple years as well. I lost an entire batch to a caterpillar invasion. Another time I lost them all to the shade of a ginormous squash canopy. Another time, as soon as I spread the seeds a thunderstorm hit and washed away all of the seeds.

Things I learned about growing carrots:

  • Don’t cover them with 1/8″ soil like it says to. Just sprinkle them on top of the loosened soil.
  • Keep track of where you planted the varieties, preferably by planting different veggies between varieties. I have no idea which type this one is, and would like to grow it again.
  • Water! Those wee little carrot stalks that sprout don’t have much of a chance if a hot spell hits.
  • Water some more.
  • The one thing I learned lately about carrots, that I kind of agree with, kind of don’t, is “unimpeded growth.” This carrot was surrounded by squash, other carrots, and volunteer lettuce. What it didn’t have was compacted soil, sticks, or rocks, to compete with underground.

And, all of this new knowledge with carrots and onions, lead to my first attempt being a success with my newest favorite (to eat) veggie – beets!

I think aside from green beans, these were the easiest thing I’ve ever grown.

With all of this abundance, I surely had to make something tasty to celebrate.

Most mornings, I make some concoction in the form of a saute that starts with bacon, ends with egg yolks, and has any number of veggies added in between. I’ve yet to get chickens (DH doesn’t want to be “those neighbors” and with our small space, we would be), evaporate salt, or raise hogs, but the rest was grown by yours truly less than fifty feet from the pan that cooked it. There really isn’t much better than that for breakfast.

Tomatoes gone wild!

I meant to stake these tomatoes ages ago…I meant to plant them about two weeks before I had a chance to do so, and then to stake them I was about…oh, six weeks later.

Life getting in the way of gardening.

Better late than never! Stakes in the ground, thanks to DH and a post-driving-contraption of his father’s.

Things I learned are good to have for this process:

  • Ear plugs! Driving metal T-posts in with a metal T-post contraption is loud.
  • T-posts > U-posts. U posts are broader and have troublesome hooks on them that have to be hammered down before the post can fit in the contraption.
  • T-post drivers are handy. Much easier (and safer) than giant hammers, and much faster than regular-sized hammers.

Stakes need string! I had intended to trellis these posts akin to a vineyard, and use stretchy green tomato tape to attach the tomatoes to the trellising…perhaps next year. So this year – more string it is.

These tomatoes are fairly well behaved, considering that they’re overgrown as they are.

These other tomatoes…well, they can’t all behave can they?

But, they’re all behaving well in the fruit-setting realm!

I expect these guys to come out yellow/orange in the end. I saved them from a farmer’s market “candy basket” last  year that I’m hoping to recreate. It had mini purple tomatoes the size of fat peas or small grapes, pear-shaped yellow-orange tomatoes, cherry-sized green stripies, and red-orange little gum drops. When they ripen, I’ll share photos in case anyone knows their names!

And my now trusty standby: Cherry Chadwicks!

Plodding along.

Things are plodding along in the garden beds here. We’re getting close to the “too hot to work outside” season. This is part of what motivates me to stay as busy as I can from Christmas through March around here, so that now, when the heat turns up, I mostly water, watch, and pull a weed or four.

Which takes beans on March 23rd…

To beans on April 4th

To beans that are now three feet tall.

It also takes us from orange-yet-shy squash blossoms…

To mystery squash!

And yellow crookneck

Unfortunately, my largest squash plants so far, the lemons (in the middle bed below)…

Are currently wilting due to a re-invasion (or perhaps never-left-asion) of fire ants. I sifted diatomaceous earth on them, as that had seemed to work on the ones by the walk-up at home, but apparently instead of causing them to relocate like the ones at home did – they simply burrowed deeper. I’m afraid boiling water might kill the squash along with the ants though. Before I try and scheme a plot to get boiling water two miles from my stove, I’ll dig the diatomaceous earth down where they live and see if that doesn’t agitate them enough to leave. Any other ideas on ousting fire ants? If only I had some phorid flies handy…

(A quick side note: Someone was asking about growth rates for melons. This is my second attempt at melons, but feel it safe to say they are slower growers. The picture above is of three squash varieties, all direct sown on the same day as three melon varieties.) The melon varieties?

A fair bit smaller than two of the squash types. Yet a mere three days later and we have a new surprise!

Melon blossoms!

Things I learned:

  • Fire ants aren’t gone just because you think they are.
  • Melons will take their time, but may surprise you in fits and bursts.
  • It’s ok to not be super busy in the garden all the time. Keeping it watered will keep it patient for your return.

And a hush fell…

I apologize for the quiet as of late. I am currently out of town, travelling for seven days on business. I took pictures in preparation for the trip, thinking I would have time in the evenings to draft posts.

Silly me.

I forgot the camera at home, with the photos still on it. I have not had evening time like I expected, but for good enough reason. I was able to spend a precious three hours with a dear cousin catching up. I was able to catch up on sleep and beat off a bug of my own before it took hold. I was able to get lost in Houston traffic for an hour trying to find socks, only to find instead a travelling carnival, a helipad, a parking lot full of grass-filled cracks in the middle of pristine shiny glass and steel, and then finally – when I’d given up on the search and resigned myself to gladly wander: socks.

Tonight was a run. A glorious, much needed, too-long-put-off-for-no-good-enough-reason, run. Little did I realize I had picked just the park that housed the Houston Garden Center. Even littler did I realize I did such a thing until driving out of the park in need of a shower. Perhaps tomorrow when the work is finished but the Rockets game has yet to begin, I’ll have time to go for another glad wandering.

While I’m gone, DH is caring for the gardens for me. They’re almost to the Water and Wait Til Harvest Stage, but not quite yet. On Tuesday, he planted the last of the tomatoes and peppers. I lost two Cherry Chadwicks in the final transplanting process, and so picked up two transplants from Johnson’s Backyard at the Farmer’s Market last Saturday. A Green Zebra and a Cherokee Purple. I needed three peppers as well – having mis-planned my space for two, and lost just one in the transplanting process (it was a itty bitty wee one I would have been shocked to see survive.) Green and Growing set me up with two Purple Beauties and one Orange Bell (all bell peppers.)

And! He took pictures! Don’t those beans look promising?

I am blown away at how happy the squash look (and how big the leaves are already!)

I’ve been carefully checking the undersides of the leaves on each visit in an effort to find any Squash Bug eggs before they hatch. Last year I lost every squash plant to Squash Bugs (not knowing yet what they were.) This year I hope to lose less. I’ve also been warned by my neighboring gardener that the plots are susceptible to Squash Vine Borers, which are new to me. I’m keeping an eye out for any vine anomalies, but am not sure exactly what I’m looking for. I’ll have to read up a bit. I did find one squash leaf coated on the underside with aphids, and it was quickly pinched off and ushered to the trash bin.

Here are the peppers and tomatoes. The tomatoes are already needing more pruning than I’ve had time to keep up with. Next week when I’m home, I really need to get them staked before they completely go wild on me. There was a flower bud on one Sunday before I left, so perhaps when I make it home this Sunday I’ll have some flowers to tickle until the bees find their new buffet.

I planted some strawberries and sweet potatoes last weekend as well, but that will have to wait for me to be reunited with my camera.

Right Bed, say hello to your new inhabitants.

As I’m sure many of you do, I have a particular way I like to do things. Oddly enough, I think that defaults into a particular way things should be done.

Years ago, I encountered someone who had decided in their marriage, that “should” was a dirty word. I rolled this thought around in my brainpan for awhile, and over the years, have done my best to remove “should” from as many aspects of my life as possible.

Enter gardening. Gardening, in our household, is my realm. It’s what I love. It’s what I read about. It’s what I decide. It’s what I do. But the more gardening has grown for me, the more space, and the more work, the more I’ve needed to ask for help. DH is happy to help. DH is not happy to necessarily do things “my way.” Oh, right. Sharing.

I remember just over nine years ago, talking with DH, and worried that with how much we talked about every little thing, that someday we would run out of things to talk about. DH assured me that day wouldn’t come.

So here we are, still finding new conversations to navigate. We made it through, like we always do, by donning our work boots, and wading through the muck together. Amusingly, with gardening, that’s as literal as it is metaphorical.

And look what we accomplished!

All of the henbit, all of the dandelions, all of the thistle, and all of the creeping, crawling, t-bar-rooting grass dug, discovered, and carried to the rubbish bin.

A quick dusting of sulfur, and we called it a day.

Then, on Sunday, I headed out late in the afternoon to finally let my tomatoes loose from their Sonic cups, and into the soil.

And then two days later, we had the biggest thunderstorm I’ve ever witnessed. The sky glowed lavender in the middle of the night. Thunder that lasted for nearly a minute at a time. Water literally pouring from the sky in solid sheets. The flash flood warnings had been up all day. The next day, the creeks raced one another to the sea.  It’s amazing what a terrible drought will do to your perspective. I don’t mind the rainy days this spring. I revel in them. I still don’t do well with two cloudy days in a row, and miss my sunshine when it happens, but will take every drop of water the sky wishes to give us, but look how happy the pond is these days…

So what happens when it dumps buckets on the freshly turned soil?

Beaten down baby tom-toms, and a cracked surface.

Thankfully, the community garden gods that be, delivered a new truckload of mulch sometime in the past three days!

That catches us up to…Wednesday.

Saturday, it was time to prep more of the bed to get ready for peppers. DH was responsibly studying at home, so it was up to me to get as much done as I could. In the three or so hours I was there, I managed to not get sunburned, water the squash, the melons, the beans, and the tomatoes again – and dig another 60 sq ft or so. My hamstrings (go figure) are still sore. But! The weeds are out, the earth is crumbly, and the worms were found. (Not that they were lost.)

That was it for Saturday, so when my borrowed shovel returned to me, I packed up the dog, my dusty self, and headed home.

Sunday was much less labor intensive, but I must say the heat is already pushing me to restructure my day to avoid the late afternoon. Sunday was transplanting my pepper starts from their Sonic cups (happy hour at Sonic, if you don’t have a Sonic near you, is dangerous) into most of the rest of the Right Bed.

DH and I had stopped by Green and Growing for some diatomaceous earth and mycorrhiza. The mycorrhiza made an appearance in each hole before laying the pepper roots in the ground. I just learned about mycorrhiza on an episode of Central Texas Gardener – apparently it is a beneficial fungus that creates a happy relationship with the roots of most plants. It enjoys the carbs the plant roots offer, and in exchange delivers minerals and other nutrients to the roots of the plant. It also is purported to help with water absorption which is always appreciated in this area.

The diatomaceous earth was purchased for a few reasons:

  1. Fire ants have invaded the crack between the sidewalk and the lawn, and also like to travel on the Right Bed’s border board. I’m allergic and have yet to boil enough water to kill them off or make them relocate.
  2. Supposedly it can help with other pests (caterpillars, I’m eyeing my chard since I can’t find you myself) so I thought I’d give it a try for that.
  3. And since I did remember to get some, and forgot to pick up more rock salt or bring a beer to the gardens, my nearly-demolished Soleil beans (and their neighbors) got a border sprinkle.

And so, the bugs were battled and the peppers were planted.

In planting the peppers and accounting for how many of each variety had survived my neglectful sowing process this year, I realized that in twelve pepper plants, I had zero bell peppers. Did I mention that I don’t eat tomatoes? Or hot peppers? So so far, the Right Bed is all for DH. I’m ok with that. It’s just kind of funny that I didn’t realize it until now.

Pepper Plants Planted

  • Anaheim (two)
  • Cayenne (two)
  • Chinese Five
  • Czechoslovakian Black (sadly, only one)
  • Fish
  • Jalapeno (three)
  • Poblano (two)

With twelve in the ground, I have room for at least three more in that area, and have yet to decide what’s going in to the bean spots when they’re finished, so perhaps that means I do get to go plant shopping after all!

And while I’m on the topic of seedlings I’ve killed so far this year, I’m fairly certain all of my ground cherry sprouts kicked the bucket in their secondary pots. If the tomatoes were happy, and the peppers were mostly happy, I’m not sure what went wrong, but shall try and try again.

Stringing string beans with string.

There are a lot of ways to grow green beans. Bush beans are the compact varieties that purport to not need supports. Pole beans need a decently tall support system.

I’ve seen people use beautiful trellises. I’ve seen 1″x1″ sticks whipped into a teepee. I’ve seen wire cages and a myriad of other contraptions. When I first started growing beans in 2007, they were in a pot on a balcony.

That pot wasn’t going to hold a trellis. I didn’t have the budget for a wire cage either. I thought about using the balcony railing itself, but with afternoon sun hitting this balcony straight on, I wanted it mobile in case my learning curve required movement. I looked around my small space, and found a bamboo stick. I had some string left from a tied quilt. A longtime fan of building forts with what’s on hand, I thought to build a climbing “fort” for my beans.

Things I learned from this project:

  • Bamboo stakes, in a pot, will lean.
  • Bamboo stakes, in the earth, will rot, break down, and snap off.
  • Beans want to grow UP, not around. In this arrangement, I ended up with multiple stalks climbing up the bamboo stakes themselves, not around the string as I’d hoped.

And so adjustments were made. For the last four years, and again this year, I’ve used the same simple system. I ditched the bamboo stakes all together. I kept using the same string, and from last year to this one – I’m actually using the exact same pieces of string.

See? I did mow and edge! But really, last year DH helped edge this bed in planks, and also helped dig in six posts and screw in cross beams to create a top structure that mimicked the rectangular shape of the bed. From there, he screwed in anchor screws every 3″ for me where the beans would be, and strung wire across the width of the bed. From those wires, I tied off falls of string, which met with the beans on the earth.

At the end of the season, I carefully saved the strings so as to not let them knot, and here they are again! In my crop rotation, the beans are under sections that lack the cross-wires. Because I wanted to get this done in the snatch of evening light I had available, I didn’t ask DH to add more wires. Instead, I ran a cross-string from one wire to another, and tied my drop lines from it.

Now the beans are set. When each one buds its climbing vine, the string is ready. I learned (and finally remembered!) to string the beans before the climbing vine appears. Once it does, it will grab onto whatever it can…other beans, tomatoes, onions, weeds… and getting it to gracefully retreat to take to the string as you want can damage it, or whatever it’s attached to.

But what about bush beans? Don’t those stay compact and not need a structure?

Yes, and no.

Bush beans definitely won’t grow 10 feet tall, it’s not in them to do so. They will on occasion, depending on variety and environment, grow tall enough to fall over. When that happens, the beans you were hoping to nurse onto your plate, or into your saved-seeds, will be devoured by the hungry critters on the ground. Or mold. Or mildew. Or otherwise allow diseases to enter into the plant more easily, creating an issue.

So, I give them a hand. They don’t necessarily get strung on strings (unless I have extra strings) but they may get some good mulching, or string, or a random trellis I acquired. Anything to give them just that little boost to stay off the soil can help.

Last year, I gave the Tiger beans a little string, and left the Yin Yang and Soleil beans alone. The Yin Yang beans didn’t mind, but the Soleil were a little iffy. So this year, the Tiger will get their structure – perhaps a trellis akin to a vineyard? We’ll see. The Soleil, unfortunately, are being demolished by a mystery pest.

The near ones are the Yin Yang, the middle are the Tiger, and the back ones, that are small when they’re not eaten, are the Soleil.

Any ideas on the pests? All I’ve seen are rolly-pollies. The damage looks like caterpillars to me, but I haven’t seen a single one.

Trees turning itchy green.

Growing up in Oregon and Washington, spring comes as a full season. Winter leaves, and the world begins to both thaw and dry out. There’s a season up there where all of the new growth has yet to reach its expected greenness. At that stage, everything is a bright, glowing green – or as I like to call it “itchy green.” It’s so green, you think it will make you itch just to look at it. It’s so green, you can tell the plants were just itching to pop from their dormancy.

Occasionally things here turn itchy green, but usually not all at once, and not for very long.

But there are things coming forth from their hibernation. Like our new Mexican White Oak tree, which surprisingly to me (although it shouldn’t have been), puts out new growth in the form of frosted leaves.

We put in two trees last year as well, well, DH did. Two pecans. One is a Choctaw, and the other…I’ll have to check the tag. Here’s one budding out with fuzzy little tassles.

This is a bush that was in place when we moved in. I’ve never liked it. It’s pokey. I think it’s a Holly Bush. I have a hard time enjoying things that need hedging. It also makes the entrance to the garage feel a little boxed in.

So why not take it out? Put something else in? Because I have a soft spot for the bees. What you can’t see in this photo, is that this bush is currently putting out very fragrant, tiny little blossoms and is covered in dozens of bees.

And so the bush remains.

 

Boing! – goes the springy Spring.

Look at what’s waking up!

Last winter, my mother and I planted some nasturtium seeds in my front flower/herb bed. I’ve recently read about how nasturtiums don’t like close quarters, and go figure that they haven’t poked their heads up yet in this lovely, reseeded-on-its-own mess:

But never fear! The nasturtium seeds that didn’t appear last spring in the back bed found their roots and put forth this cheerful face:

But I’m not sure how much they really mind a crowd, because look at where this little smiling face is hanging out:

And did you happen to spot that blue spot down to the right of the Blanket Flowers? At the end of the spring last year, I swiped some roadside seeds. I tossed them in the back of this bed, and imagine one of my “oops! forgot the sprinkler was on!” moments floated the seeds to the forefront. I’m glad. Doesn’t she look happy?

It has honestly taken me years  to remember to call these Blue Bonnets. I would always initially say Blue Bells, and then quickly correct myself. They’re currently blanketing the roadsides here in Central Texas. Not in the breath-taking numbers they have in the past, but with such a mild winter I’m not surprised.

Let me fine a nice photo showing what they can do…

Other smiling faces are showing up around the house as well. These ones are from a seed packet from DH’s mother, and they remind me so much of Alice In Wonderland! Don’t they just put that song in your head? “You can learn a lot of things from the flowers…”

Growing like a bean!

At least, that’s what I expect the phrase means.

Here’s the Left Bed on March 7th.

A dreary day for us here in Texas. On the left we have Yin Yang beans. In the middle, my trusty Tiger Eye Beans, and in the back (or on the right in the photo) are Soleil green beans.

And here we are again, on the 10th.

See those four little legs in the top left? They belong to the Bean Guardian.

He’s doing a stand-up job keeping the birds away.

While down there, a new volunteer raised its hand. My best guess is that this tired ol’ bed actually housed an asparagus plant? And that said asparagus plant was the “Hmm, I wonder what this is?” that I saved during the turning under/root-removal process? Any confirmation of asparagus, or ideas of alternatives?

If it is asparagus, it will be my first. I know its a perennial, and that likely its rather upset with me for digging its bed all topsy-turvy. Other than that, I’ll have to read up on asparagus and see how to care for it. Hopefully it doesn’t mind too much the squash I sowed nearby.

Sown on the 11th were my melons and some of my squashes. These varieties are all new to me this year, which is both exciting and leaves me full of trepidation. Will they grow? Will they harvest? Will I like them? We’ll just have to wait and see.

Melons

  • Edisto 47
  • Kansas
  • Tigger
Inter-planted with Sunflowers!
Squash (so far)
  • Early Golden Crookneck
  • Lemon
  • Kamo Kamo

Also, I did a simple soil test kit (I buy the little ones for $4 that do pH, Nitrogen, Potassium, and Potash) on the Right Bed. As expected, the pH is high. So far each soil test I’ve done in a new area has been in the “dark green” or “8+” range. Thankfully, I have some sulfur on hand to mix in. Surprisingly (and thankfully) the Potassium and Potash are both at reasonable levels! This is a first, since usually when I build a garden bed I’m starting with undernourished turf-just-removed soil. The Nitrogen is low, but that’s easily fixed with some Blood Meal.

Planned for the left bed are two more squash varieties, the tomatoes, the peppers, and if they ever arrive in the mail – the sweet potatoes and strawberries.

 

(Thanks to DH for the pictures! We walked to the gardens this time, and in remembering my Hori Hori, seeds, graph paper plans, and gloves, I forgot a camera. Hooray for phones!)

It’s dark out.

I find myself with enough energy and time in the evenings to put in some good garden time, but by this time it’s already dark out. DH is studying, and if I don’t find something else to do, I’ll end up logging some more hours with work.

So tonight, I think I’ll do a little history.

Once upon a time, there was a girl in an apartment. The apartment had a little balcony, maybe 5’x10′, that was south-facing. It was a second floor balcony, with an upstairs neighbor of the bamboo mat/wind chime variety, and a downstairs neighbor that rotated through from friendly drug dealer that kept to himself, to unfortunate alcoholic couple that started out loving us and ended up leaving us with a few sad stories, to a couple of newly weds who fought a fair bit (although less often and less vocally than the previous neighbors.)

Below the balcony was a small plot of land that used to house some grass and a tree. The grass had long since been shaded into packed dirt, and the tree left only a stump for some interesting fungus to feed upon. Across the strip of bare earth was a fence, and behind the fence – wilderness. Well, as wild of a wilderness as you can find in a suburb. Enough wilderness to get birds in the trees, squirrels digging around for acorns, and the occasional raccoon. Our first spring there revealed a lovely surprise – blub, burgle, bubble, gush.

There was a waterfall through the trees, just outside our bedroom window! When it rained, the water would rush over the small fall and make the most beautiful serenade to the spring days. We could walk out of our building, through the fence, and be at the waterfall in less than a minute. Sometimes you could even hear children laughing as they made their way to the pool at the bottom to wade.

This unexpected gift gave the girl a longing for nature like she hadn’t known in years. She and her DH would wander down the creek path and take pictures, hold hands, and talk of the future. The future that would hopefully include a home-home, as they called it, on land, with a large kitchen garden and an orchard surrounded by a low-slung stone wall with a gate.

Over the years, she’d carted along on her many moves a few green things. There was the cactus, Napoleon. There was Heidi, the Hydrangea, too.

Heidi had been in the “family” for nearly five years at this point. Never having blossomed, she earned her keep on hope alone.

She tried her hand at some edible plants for the first time as well. Rarely one to take the easy route as first choice, she started with seeds.

Tomatoes!

Who were split and transplanted into a strawberry pot…

Where they HATED it…and so were moved again larger pots…

Where they got a little busy with the bees…

And then the sun worked its magic…

And that, dear readers, is the story of DH’s first balcony tomato! And just part of the beginning of the story that has gotten us here. This is also my first experience with Cherry Chadwick tomatoes. Just wait to read about what these tomatoes ended up accomplishing in their short lives.

Oh, and all I could find so far for a picture of Napoleon, has him in the bottom of this frame, poking up.

You can also see, on the right, that Heidi finally bloomed! She left the world after that bloom, but it got rather pink and lovely before she went.

Things I learned in those days: 

  • I honestly don’t know what would like to grow in a Strawberry Pot. The tomatoes hated it. Herbs hated it. Maybe strawberries would actually like it? Although I doubt it for how much water they seem to want.
  • Peat pots, are not my favorite. The roots struggle to bust out, and no matter what the label said, I never witnessed the netting composting naturally in the transplanted pot.
  • Balconies never yielded enough food to replace any store shopping, but there still isn’t any comparison to be made between a tomato still ripe from the sun.