After two days disappeared in a feverish NyQuil haze, I work up this morning to sunlight seeping through the blinds and thought: what better way to prove to myself that I’m no longer sick than by playing in the dirt? It was, I declare, a success. Soil was quite workable, in spite of the recent dusting of snow and the temperature hovering in the low 30s. I read in my Organic Gardening magazine that there are microbes of some sort in soil that, when in contact with human hands, provoke a chemical release of dopamine—that’s right, getting your hands dirty really does make you feel better! Well, in this case, the cold is just about kicked, and it always feels good to look at a finished, planted garden bed.
Snap Peas, Carrots, Spinach, Swiss Chard, and Broccoli Raab
The first experiment of the year is really the first experiment of last year… Between work and night classes and everything else, I never got around to harvesting my 2010 leeks. I was less excited about them than the previous year, as I had sown them directly in the garden (in 2009 I started indoors in early March), and they were noticeably thinner. “Oh well, I’ll just turn them over in the Spring” I thought. Would you believe these hardy allia overwintered under 3.5 feet of snow and ice! I wonder, if I just acted like they were supposed to be there, would they keep growing? So I top-dressed them with some compost, trimmed the stalks, and will proceed as if everything were going according to plan.
Behind the freshly sprouted garlic, last year's leeks endeavor to keep on growing. How will they taste? I'll let you know in another 7 months!
Biggest lessons learned from last year:
1. Deer are evil, except when they’re dinner. Otherwise, they’re probably eating your vegetables. I’m installing a deer fence this year—something I’ve fought largely on aesthetic grounds, but I hated not having any beans, and the stunted squash harvest was enough to make me consider investing in a hunting bow.
2. Mulch makes the difference. Less weeding. Less watering. Less worry. I laid up two extra bales of mulching hay in my secret evergreen hiding place, where the hay slowly rots into a moist, mucky matting that will soothe the shallow roots of my nightshades, and just about everything else I’m planting this year.
3. The right interplantings make for happy (garden)bed-mates. Carrots love peas and tomatoes. Dill and Yarrow attract beneficial insects. Catmint and Catnip frighten bad bugs. Hey, I didn’t invent the short-cuts, I’m just taking them.
4. Plant more flowers. (this one really needs no explanation: to paraphrase Mother Teresa, there’s no such thing as too many flowers!)
5. Cover crops. I first experimented with Annual Rye Grass last March, and it did a great job keeping the weeds down until I was ready to plant my veggies. In November (probably a month or two later than I could have), I planted Winter Rye, which survived the snow and is growing still (but not as thickly as I would have liked). Scheduled for this year: Red Clover and White Dutch Clover, which both add Nitrogen to the soil and have the added benefit of attracting bees (and other beneficials).
There’s probably more; I’m always learning. Which is yet another reason (if you can call them that) why gardening is, in my view, the ultimate expression of passion for life.
