Three Things We Won't Do In The Garden Next Year

Beets. Soon to be prepared as 'roasted beets.'

This is my first garden (Mr. UpCountry's had a couple before this season). So there's a huge learning curve going on here for me. It's something I enjoy: our banter back and forth about what we're going to change next year.

Don't get me wrong - the garden's doing well. This past week we've been harvesting beets, carrots, bush beans, peas, kohlrabi, and a couple tomatoes. The broccoli's coming up nicely and the jalapenos are finally  making an appearance.

But there are a few things that we're going to change next year. Namely, three.

1. Spearmint and chocolate mint will no longer be planted with the vegetables in the raised beds. Why? Because these plants are such aggressive runners they might as well just be competing in the Olympics this week. We've found little spearmint runners poking up all over the place, leaps and bounds beyond the original planting. It's quite impressive, actually, if it wasn't such a joykill (or growth-kill) to the surrounding plants. We've had some cabbages and beets that didn't get up to size because they had to compete for soil with those minty overachievers.

We originally planted spearmint and chocolate mint as a natural deterrent against pests. Next year, we will likely plant the mints into containers or straight into the ground around the raised bed perimeter.

2. We will space out the broccoli. They are not kidding around when they say to give these guys some space. Our broccoli is so tall!  It's enjoying itself right now, but it's quite obvious that there's too much going on in that one space. With their height, their canopy is high above the spearmint planted in its center. You would think that would weaken those mint runners. Dead wrong.

3. Lastly, we will plant all the tomatoes together on one side of the bed, rather than planting them spaced apart with peppers and basil in the middle. 

This area of the garden is our "Tropics." We planted this way in an attempt to create as much humidity as possible, by squeezing in plants that like humidity (peppers) in between taller plants that 'eek' out a lot of moisture.

This didn't happen. Instead it seems like the tomatoes are overshadowing the peppers. We have seen limited growth in our banana and jalapeno pepper plants and some serious weakness in the basil as well. Mr. UpCountry has been fertilizing and composting regularly in this bed and it seems to have improved (sorry about that previously-low nitrogen content, Tropics). The need for nitrogen is probably the greatest factor in the peppers' "laziness," but since the "Tropics" layout we designed this year didn't really work out to our standard, we're chucking it for next year and coming up with something else.

Have you identified any changes that your going to make in your garden next year? If so, share your acquired knowledge - we'd love to hear about your own gardens!

{I'm link up to Frugally Sustainable's Blog Hop today to share my new knowledge with other folks interested in gardening!}

Who Doesn't Love Basil? I love Basil.

Mmm... Basil. I love to caress (I tried to come up with a different word - couldn't) the leaves and smell my fingers. Sounds so gross when you write "smell my fingers," but what are you supposed to say when that's exactly what you're doing?

Over the weekend, my basil plants were suffering. They're still in two-inch plastic pots and will likely have to stay there awhile, as I'm too nervous to plant them in my raised beds so early. I bought them at a local greenhouse called Northern Breezes; when I brought them home, they looked great.

Well, towards the end of last week, they started drooping. Major drooping. Like, looked-like-they-were-giving-up-on-life-drooping. Mr. UpCountry suggested they weren't getting enough direct sunlight, so during our really nice weather over the weekend, I put them out on my sunny back porch.

They continued to droop. We couldn't get them to perk up, so we decided to stake them.

They're standing upright now (thanks, stakes) and seem to be a little happier, but I'm not sure just how satisfied they are with their hardening process. 

Anyway, while this mini-crisis with the basil was in full bloom, I thought it wise to do a bit of research. 

Did you know?

According to Wikipedia:

...Basil does not like cold at all. [In our area, it should only be grown in the summer or under intense lighting.]

...it likes well drained soil.

...you can save seeds for next year if you let them flower [letting them flower will reduce the leaves available for consumption, though. the plant only has so much energy to give and it's going to disperse it as you direct it.]

...if you want to keep leaf production going, you have to pinch off the flowers. Without pinching, the basil stems become woody and the essential oil production is stopped. Pinching tells the basil to keep producing vegetative leaves, which are what we eat.

...medical value: its oil is a potent antioxidant, anti-viral and anti-microbial and has a potential for use in treating cancer.

Case in point: I'm keeping my basil warm now. I'm so sorry, little green girls, that I ever let you get cold.

I decided to get old school with the rest of my research and actually look 'basil' up in books. For shame!

I first referenced Back To Eden, a book that's circulated in my family for years. This is what they have to say about our fragrant friend:

Medicinal properties: Stimulant, condiment [?], nervine, aromatic.

Description and uses: The tea taken hot is good in suppressed menses [what does that even mean?]

It helps to stop vomiting and eases stomach cramps. It is effective when applied to snake bites [or snack bites, which I originally wrote in my notebook] and insect stings. 

Use two teaspoonfuls steeped in a cup of hot water. Take one cup per day.

Now, I don't know if I'd actually be able to get in the habit of drinking a cup of basil tea per day, but I do want to try it sooner than later. Maybe when I'm afflicted by my next snack bite. [typo SO intended.]

And, perhaps I'd get in the habit if I had this much fun to look forward to. According to Nourishing Traditions:

Many cultures have valued basil as a sacred plant. In India, a species of basil called tulasi is an object of veneration, cultivated in temples and garden shrines. [Note to me-self: build a garden shrine.] Tulasi is said to kill mosquitoes and demons [aren't those one and the same?], to cure disease and cleanse the air.

In ancient Greece and Persia, sweet basil was associated with mourning and planted on graves [this is not the fun part. obviously.] In ancient Rome, basil was associated with fertility, love, and sexual stimulation [oh my!].

In China, basil traditionally provided a base for perfume and was planted in gardens to mask the bad odor of fertilizer.

The French call it l'herbe royale (the royal plant) for good reason. Tests have shown that the smell of basil has a salutary effect on people's outlook and disposition. It is valued for its ability to relieve intestinal gas and inhibit dysentery. The leaves may be brewed into a tea for these complaints. A relative of mint, basil is easy to grow. [oh...whoops!]

What a dynamic plant. So dynamic, I'm pretty much flat-out jealous of its talent. I hope that my basil plants survive, because I have a craving for bruschetta that will be gigantic by the time my tomatoes have grown (and word's still out on whether those seedlings are going to make it. yup. awesome. [points to self]).

So, tell me: do you have basil growing in your garden? How's it doing?

How To Thin Seedlings

How's about a garden update? Yeeeehawww! :COUGH:COUGH: Man. I have to stop trying to be cool...

In the last week, Mr. UpCountry and I have done quite a lot!

We finished our raised beds. By "finished," I mean: we added organic compost, some other super-awesome amendments (think FoxFarm and HappyFrog), earthroom castings, ProMix (etc.), and perlite. I got the best upper body workout of my life, moving and mixing all that soil and stuff around. 

Now the raised beds are ready to rock. Or, actually (and more preferably), grow.

We thinned out our kohlrabi and mini-cabbage seedlings. Each cell had two, three, or four seedlings in them and we pared it down to one in each. We sterilized the finest-tipped scissors we could find and cut out all those seedlings that were, well, voted off the island. 

That vote was decided based on the strength of the seedling (does it have a nice, sturdy stalk?) and its stage of growth. Some seedlings have a nice hearty pair of true leaves. Those are the ones we kept.

We snipped the seedling's stem right above the soil line. Now our seedlings won't have to compete with their brothers/sisters for nutrients, light and warmth. It's a green light for supergrowth for those left behind (hint, hint, seedlings. You better be awesome. Those sanitized scissors aren't too far away...)

We also started the rest of our seedlings: carrots, bush beans, peas, spinach, beets, and lettuce. They ran out of those handy little coco-pots I used a few weeks ago, so I had to use a seed-starting kit. I definitely don't feel as good about pouring warm water over little dry pellets and waiting for them to expand. It somehow doesn't seem as fool-proof as pulling a handful of soil out of a bag, but it must be. It seems to be marketed that way, anyway.

We discovered a new greenhouse in the area, about 8 miles from home. Northern Breezes, in St. David, has some beautiful greenhouses filled with healthy veggies, flowers and herbs. They also had a surprise supply of ProMix BX! (Trust me, up here, that's up there with the big discoveries. Y'know, lightbulb; wheel; ice cream). 

In addition to a hefty purchase of ProMix to fill in the remainder of our raised beds, we bought some strong, stocky jalapeno plants. Basil and strawberry too!

That's basil. Here are the strawberries!

We had to travel over 20 miles to find perlite (which had to be ordered in larger bags). Corriveau's in Wallagrass was able to get us some; we also bought some banana pepper plants from them (first place we found them and I've looked). 

Finally, we transplanted my tomato seedlings from the flat trays into individual cells. Those flat trays really didn't work that well for me. Moving them was an issue, as the soil tended to crack whenever they shifted. Also, since I didn't add any drainage holes to the bottom (because I have my dumb moments), I wasn't able to water them properly. I was afraid to ever water them with confidence, because I didn't want them to stand in it. Thus, I under-watered them. Oh, you finicky soil, you. They aren't growing very well. Hopefully transplanting them will help them along.

All in all, my entryway/sun-room is starting to fill up quite nicely will little green seedlings. As much as the world outside seems to be balking at growth, my seedlings are being true to the nature of spring (something has to. sheesh.).

The weather around here has been in the 60s. Humid. On my short walk to the raised beds this afternoon, my face got wet and it wasn't raining. :smirk

Over the past weekend, the buds started popping out on the trees. It's beyond-wonderful to drive around and see the hills smudged with light color. 

I spotted my first bees (let the "running in terror" begin). At night, the treefrogs' peeps are louder than the hum of the refrigerator, which is (of course) a good thing.

At this point, Mr. UpCountry and I have to settle down for some planning. We're going to graph out "what goes where" in the raised beds and brainstorm some new plants to bring in that'll help our existing veggies defend themselves against pests (think cilantro and rosemary). It's called companion planting and we both have our noses in books (or, in his case, eyes on screen) researching it lately.

And, with all that research, comes note-taking. Good thing I love my handwriting.

Tomorrow the weather's supposed to clear up and I'll be able to get my hands dirty again. I'm letting the soil in the raised beds sit for at least a week; that way, it'll develop a nice, friendly, local little ecosystem (as in, make friends with compost and other amendments). 

On a scale of 1 to 10, how cliche is it to hum "Here Comes The Sun" right about now?

You might also enjoy:

Earthworm Castings

How To Start Those Seeds