one more charge

I try hard every year to grow as much of my own organic vegetable supply as possible. It is literally a hard row to hoe, and my success rate is never going to result in Piper's picture on the cover of a magazine, sitting proudly beside a picturesque basket of vegetables. But good food is important, and growing it is important to me, and I try.

This year, every gardener I know is in the same situation: say the word "garden" and we sigh and shake our heads. The more demonstrative among us throw our hands into the air while sighing and shaking our heads.

It's been driving me a little bit batty that between May and June's rainy days, only one planting of pole beans had gone in. Nothing more. Even the beans aren't growing well, but have been hanging on.

Meanwhile, here's the rest of the garden:

This riotous jungle obscured even the rows that my Occasional Helper had rough-dug back in May. I knew that if I couldn't reclaim at least those rows and take the stones out and get something planted right away, I might be buying all my vegetables for the next year. So on my task list this past week - when the forecast included three days in a row with a less than 50% chance of rain - was this:

Item 1: Veg Garden. One more charge. Rescue or surrender.

As we surveyed the situation while standing knee-deep in a sea of green, my Occasional Helper said, "Well, a weed-whacker could do it." This had not occurred to me. I know nothing about motorized weed-whacking. And as I was pondering this exciting news, he added, "I have a weed-whacker."

We quickly identified exclusion zones:

the pole beans, a large patch of violets and a small clump of milkweed.

Let the whacking commence!

I began raking up the greenery while it was still fresh, and carrying it up to the herd, although it seemed unlikely they would eat such a mixed slaw. Goats, as long-time Comptonia readers know, are very particular about their food.

And sure enough, although all the goats investigated their salads, not one just reached in for mouthfuls, as a horse or cow might. They nosed it all carefully, then pulled out individual stems or leaves. Much was left uneaten and quickly wilting, so after lugging a couple of big totes up from the garden to the barn paddocks, I decided to leave the rest in place as mulch. I moved on to another task while the whacking continued.

And then, all was quiet.

I walked back down the slope and saw this:

Readers, if I work hard and stick to short-season vegetables, I might just have a garden this year. In with a chance, I call it. And while I was in the garden musing about how rarely in life we have the chance to press the Reset button, my Occasional Helper was up by the house, weed-whacking the Very Raised Bed. And then a little path by the goat barn where I get soaked first thing every morning, walking through wet vegetation. Weed whackers! Who knew? My Occasional Helper, that's who.

So, that was Thursday afternoon.

By Friday morning I had planted:

Suyo cucumbers.

Okra.

Egyptian onions.

Candy roaster squash.

It has already rained twice in less than two days since those seeds were planted. In fact, it's raining right now. But hopefully enough to help seeds germinate; not enough to wash them away or rot them.

And the forecast looks fair for Sunday and Monday,

so I will try to get more seeds in the ground.

Here's hoping!

~~~~~

bye july

Intermittent light rain today!
I am so grateful. Heat and humidity have been almost relentless since May, and it's been dry, dry, dry.
So dry that in the week before July 4th, I called the police four times to report that thoughtless people (a bit of serious editing there, readers) were repeatedly setting off illegal fireworks near my place. Curmudgeon? Maybe. But the forest didn't burn and my barns are intact.

Speaking of barns, a couple of weeks ago I went out before dawn - the best time to do "extra" chores in this weather - to set up a big fan in the goat barn. The fan is part of a large haul of goodies bought at a farm sale last Autumn. It had been stored safely out of goats' reach in the little stilt barn, hanging from two nails in a rafter. Retrieving it meant teetering on a stepstool while keeping one eye on LeShodu, Betula and Acer - the three biggest goats in the herd - who had been sleeping in the stilt barn til I showed up to entertain them. Each was capable of bumping me off that stool with a gentle "whatcha doin'?" nose-nudge.

Do you find it a bit unnerving when you need all your strength to wrestle with something that's over your head? That big box in the loft, that suitcase jammed onto a closet shelf? It's like a dog chasing a car: when you finally get hold of that thing, will you really be able to control it?

I managed to hang onto the fan and get off the stool without mishap, mostly because even in the relative "cool" before sun-up, the goats were too lethargic to help. This endlessly muggy weather makes the goats either lethargic or cranky. Same here, goats, same here. I move even more slowly than usual, if you can imagine it. And there's been a lot more swearing when things don't go smoothly. (Please don't imagine that second part.)

In the big barn, I attached a piece of stock panel at an angle across one stall to keep the goats away from the fan, then opened the west door of the barn. Campion was the first to investigate:

Followed by Dara and Vinca. By the way, these are both goatcam shots. I kept an eye on things from the house, to be sure my barrier was working. As soon as I was out of the barn, Campion tried to tear the stock panel down, but was unsuccessful. This was a big victory for me; sometimes it takes two or three tries to Campion-proof something. He is tenacious!

The fan isn't on all the time, but when the air is hot and thick and humid, it certainly helps to keep a little air moving through the barn. And I hope it's helping keep the biting flies out as well.

~~~

So far this summer, there have been only three days when the gardens have not needed watering. There are hoses set up to reach the big gardens but every evening after regular chores I've been carrying buckets of water to a few small garden areas beyond reach of the hoses. A couple of days ago I broke down and bought one more hundred-foot section. (After extensive research last year, I invested in several sections of 100% rubber hose. And I do mean "invested;" these hoses will be specifically mentioned in my Will.) Money well spent. What a thrill to have that hose carrying the water for me! Simple tools often provide miraculous results.

Here's another miraculous thing: the vegetable plants are beginning to produce. 

French filet pole beans

In the past ten days I have appreciated the first pole beans, summer squash, and cucumber. The winter squash plants are now climbing to the top of the six-foot fence, and at the other end of the spectrum, the tiny okra plants are putting out new leaves. I may not have the abundant harvest I had hoped to put by for Winter, but I am very grateful to have fresh, organic vegetables right now.

Ronde de Nice squash

And tonight I think I can skip watering the gardens.

~~~

Piper visited the doggy spa last week, where she is very popular and always has a swell time. Usually she has a professional bath in the Spring and Autumn, but this was an extra trip; the equivalent of buying new jimjams for a hospital stay.

Piper's doctor felt a couple of molars were giving her trouble and should probably be removed. To be honest, I was hesitant; Piper wasn't off her grub at all and showed no signs of discomfort. And as boisterous as Piper is  - and as much as I am in total denial about this - she is not a youngster. Anesthesia always carries a risk.

But I did the responsible thing: trusted my vet and scheduled dental surgery this past Wednesday. It was two hours of surgery in the morning, and poor Pip was feeling peculiar and a bit wobbly when I brought her home late that afternoon. She is feeling much more herself now, but we're still taking things more quietly than usual. I'm hoping we'll be back out for little strolls in the woods this week.

typical provisions for Adventures with Piper

~~~

What are you planning for the coming week?

Can you believe it will be August?

~~~~~

lightness

It's been raining and raining. The paddocks are turning into deep, slippery mud, and yesterday I had to turn on lamps at 2PM, the house was so dark. Rain is predicted for three of the next four days.

BUT.

We have turned the corner, if "corner" really applies to something as roundish as the Earth (not quite round but slightly bulging, isn't it?) and it's orbit (not round at all; elliptical). Well gosh, this analogy is certainly getting away from me. Okay, forget "turning the corner." We have somehow - wonderfully, miraculously - moved past the longest night of the year and are now growing "lighter" by the day.

What better way to celebrate than by planning the garden?

This week I received an order from one of my favorite companies, Sow True Seed. They even included a little surprise: pretty envelopes for saving my own seed next year. Nice!

Traditionally, I have waited til the long depths of February to start perusing the seed catalogs. But it felt so right to hold seeds in my hand at the Winter Solstice. I think December is going to be the new tradition.

~~~~~

wordless wednesday

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wordless wednesday

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charming companions

This pattypan squash plant has two companions close by,

a marigold and a calendula, 

to help deter destructive insects.

This cauliflower plant has a similar team of associates.

~~~

I am going all out this year.

Fingers crossed.

~~~~~