Digging towards spring

Yes, I'm ready to start gardening! The weather was warm enough last week to start turning over the soil in the new bed along the fence, and to begin to expand the edges of the shrub and perennial bed off the right side of the stone patio.  I plan to plant winter squash in the couple of feet of new curve beyond the arching cotoneaster. I 'm looking forward to vines wandering among the flowers.
The fence bed needs to be especially well dug because it is going to be planted with asparagus, a perennial crop. I was worried that it would be full of rock and roots (this is New England!), but  I only found a few, including this one I dispatched with my saw. Tree roots lack the flexible fibers of stems, and break easily, so the best technique for most smaller roots is just to snap them of with a sharp upward pull.

I also dug a hole and planted a ten foot high walnut branch ( a hurricane remnant) in the bed made from trex decking, then anchored it further by tying it to a metal post I pounded in next to it.  Walnut is a hard wood, and this pole for beans or morning glories (but not both together, because the morning glories will win)  should last several years.







I worked on the shape of the flower bed curves for quite a while, with Sol supervising.

Here's the curve at the end of the day. It was getting cold and very windy. I will look at the shape for a couple of weeks before I dig up the rest of the grass.  Although my raised beds are efficient and geometric,  I enjoy the whimsy and freedom of curves in the rest of the garden, and the art of getting them right for my eye.

Under construction-- A cold frame and a cedar raised bed

The weather is still mild.  I built a frame out of an old 12" plank and a piece of 6" cedar between two existing raised beds, laid a salvaged vinyl-coated window over it and made a coldframe.  I'm going to mix some manure into the soil and start spinach under it on March 1.

The gap on the right will keep it from overheating, and I can lay an old towel over it on cold nights.
I also learned that cedar splits easily, and so used coated deck screws, gently driven, to build my next project, a 16' by 4' by 12" cedar bed strengthened by 12" high  chunks of 4 by 4 pressure treated lumber.

It was almost dark by the time I attached the lower tier of cedar, which is the most precise part of the
job.  I'll finish the top soon, and then put sand under the 4 by 4's and level it before filling it with compost and topsoil.  This year I'm going to plant  this new bed  with tomatoes or potatoes, and next year I'll extend the fence to enclose it so I can grow the tastier crops (to rabbits, I mean)  like lettuce and peas.
I used three extension cords to get my old corded drill to the spot, but it did the job. Why replace it? It still works fine, even if cordless drills are all the rage-- god, I sound like a crotchety old lady!   -"Those young folks with their fancy drills"- but I'm just trying to spend mindfully.
Here are all the tools I needed: The screws even came with a drill bit.

Fun with a Bastard File

No, I'm not swearing! I finally bought some files to sharpen my tools, and the roughest one is a 'bastard' file.
I used it to sharpen the edges of my hedge trimmers and loppers, and it worked.  Just a few passes with the file over the edge made them cut much more cleanly, with less force.

I went to town on my bed of giant Miscanthus grasses, and gave them all haircuts:

Then I spread the resulting straw on the garden paths.

It was a good afternoon's work.  The only question is, why did I take so long to buy a file and sharpen my tools ?  I've read about the process many times over the years, but never before tried to sharpen my tools.  I suspect I  thought it would be like sharpening kitchen knives, which I've never been very good at,  despite many attempts.  But sharpening my shears was different-- even a rough edge made a big difference.  It must be because the scissor action doesn't need as precise an edge.   It's good to learn something new in my old age.

And as a bonus, I found several praying mantis egg cases in the straw, which I  stuck into beds around the yard.  Egg cases laid close together don't result in many adults, because they eat each other.   Spread out across the yard, perhaps more will live to do good eating bad bugs!

Tidying and planning

A warm day in January, especially after a run of sharp cold, seems like midsummer.  I was out in the garden in the afternoon, acting on some plans I'd been fomenting during the cold snap.  

First I laid some scraps of wood on the ground by the buddleia next to the path.  I'm using them to mark the edge of an expansion of the bed I'm planning this spring.  Here's a picture:

This new edge will create a spot for a patch of pepper plants.  I have a tough time with rotation of members of the nightshade family (tomatoes, peppers, potatoes) because I grow so many of them. That's why most new beds get planted with one of the three the first year.  I'll also put peppers and tomatoes in the new bed by the fence, a spot that now gets plenty of sun since the hurricane knocked down an overhanging tree. I t's full of leaves right now, and is Sol's favorite hangout on sunny winter days.

And I moved the  eight foot by four foot recycled plastic railroad tie bed from next to the grapes (they need more room) to alongside the old sixteen by four foot bed, paired up with the trex bed (just in the frame on the right).  I like having three beds made of different materials next to each so I can compare their durability. 

All three of these new beds need soil. I plan on bringing in a couple of pickups of compost from a local nursery and combining it with the horse manure that's aging under a tarp in the front garden.  I ordered blue potatoes this winter, and they'll go in the moved railroad tie bed.  

Finally, I cut back the raspberries. They'll need some manure too.... maybe on the next warm day I should visit the horse farm.

Catalogs and choices

Here's a display of the  seed and plant catalogs I've been reading lately.  I read catalogs  to survive the cold gray days of winter.  As I flip the pages  and study the pictures and text,  I imagine my 2012 vegetable garden, which will be filled with carefully chosen vigorous, productive and delicious
cultivars .  Or so I dream in January.
 I make lists in my mind and on scraps of paper, comparing prices and shipping rates.  I  also compare the various offers from companies for ordering early.  Most offers are matches, as in 'Buy $50 of merchandise, get $25 worth free',  but one company lets you buy $25 worth of products (with the attached coupon) without having to purchase anything more.  I promptly wrote up an order totaling $24.79 including shipping, and mailed it off.
 If they were looking for my loyalty, they won't get it-- everything in the catalog was double the price of most others.  There must be a lot of suckers that spend enough over $25 to make the coupon worth while. I will be kind and not mention the name of this company since I  may (I 'll believe it when it comes) be getting free stuff from them, but I won't be a loyal customer at those prices.
Other companies give good value, but I can buy their seeds locally and avoid shipping.  A regional discount store carries Burpee seeds at 40% off, and after I read their catalog I visit the store and pick some of my choices off the rack.  The selection is limited, but I always find a few good varieties, and at just over a $1 a packet,  they are a great deal. Or at least I think so...
Because another trick of the seed trade that I'm sure has been going on forever, but which I've only noticed lately, is the lack of uniformity in volume descriptions.  Some companies list the packets contents in grams, some in number of seeds,  some just say 'packet' .  It's tough to compare value without a standard measurement.  Burpee puts grams on the store packets, but seed numbers in the catalog-- so I can't tell if the catalog packets hold more for the money.
 I actually prefer small packets.  I get enough seed for a season, and not much left. That's fine, because most seed only has a suggested shelf lie of a year of two.  That's one of the reasons I bought most of my seeds from Pinetree Garden Seeds in Maine this winter. They are a New England company, with experience in the region, sell small packets of seeds for home gardeners, and carried most of the seeds I wanted and could not find on the Burpee racks. I ordered a few seeds from them last year, and they did well, so this winter I've given them the rest of my modest order.  They are also a family owned company, and I hope this balances out my purchases from the Burpee empire.
What about the  many other wonderful catalogs with beautiful pictures and lots of info on growing? Don't I owe them some business for providing me with hours of dreaming?  Nope. They made their pitch, and it didn't work for me, so I owe them nothing.  I'm not going to feel guilty, even when they email me  helpful newsletters.... really. Sorry, Johnny's Seeds, maybe next year.

Three Seasons are enough for me... right now

I'm getting an inferiority complex about my garden. After too much reading of Organic Gardening, Mother Earth News, and the wealth of home farming blogs on the net, all  full of  gardens that feed families of 10 on a half acre lot,  couples that build stone garden sheds with rocks from their own property, and folks who keep chickens as housepets, I feel a failure.
Where's my green street cred? Sure,  I have solar power, but I paid someone to install, it , instead of making it from a kit. And some of my raised beds are made from pressure treated lumber!!!   Most of all, I have resisted the peer pressure towards four season gardening.  My job is much busier in the winter, and I like a break to think and plan about next year.  But the mags are all on about low hoop-houses and winter crops, and I feel a but of a lazy bum.  But at least all the  other gardens in my neighborhood are at rest now too... or so I thought.
Driving home from Target I saw it-- the little vegetable garden that could on the corner of Anthony Street, the one I always eyeball as I go by, the one with peas and onions every April and tomatoes in July, now has two plastic covered low hoop-houses.  The pressure is on, even here in my neighborhood.
Actually, with weather as mild as we've had,  I  almost wish I had put up some hoops too.  It's January 3rd and we've had no snow since October!  Here are a couple of pictures of my  current pitiful four season garden: a patch of parsley covered by a milk crate with reemay tucked around it, and a towel thrown over it on colder nights. It actually works when there isn't much snow.

The parsley outside the crate is pretty much gone, while the close-up shows the parsley inside, still plump and green.  Here's the crate tucked in for a forcast of  15 degrees tonight, the coldest night so far this winter.  

Despite the peer pressure up the street,  I'm not giving in to four seasons yet, except with parsley.  Instead I'm planning on building more raised beds and getting more production out of three.  That's enough for me right now.

Remembering June

Here's a picture from June 13, 2011. The garden is lush, green, and full of promise,  with potatoes, onions, garlic and fava beans burgeoning.
 Today is December 19th, and winter officially starts in a couple of days.  It was 15 degrees  at 7am this morning, and I wore my dpwn jacket  with the hood up when I walked Sol this morning (he has a jacket too).
  This picture reminds me of what makes winter bearable for northern gardeners-- anticipation! You can't miss what you always have (so I tell myself) and gardeners in more temperate climes never have to look out on dead and dingy winter landscapes, dreaming of spring. Thus the full bloom of summer is not as  wonderful for them, because there is less contrast.
But I don't just dream.  I plan, and  seeing the planning pay off as the garden unfolds over the season is the greatest joy.   And that's what i'm going to write about over these winter months.  I'm going to analyze what worked in my 2011 garden, and what didn't, and plan a better garden for 2012.