Archives for posts with tag: Murphy’s Law

Over breakfast this morning, we discussed a few ideas for the next growing season. It’ll be here sooner than we think.

First, we’ll move the peas and beans to the fence. We have two trellises now and rather than let one lie fallow (as we did this past season), we’ll plant one trellis with cucumbers and the other with legumes. We sow the peas and beans directly into the ground (as opposed to starting them inside, as we do the cucumbers) and I am pretty sure that there will be enough sun to germinate the seeds.

Second, we’ll plant the tomatoes in the ground only, not in a raised bed. I’m a bit surprised that we came to this conclusion because I was sure that the tomatoes in the planter would do better than those in the ground, mainly due to the soil being older and more conditioned in the planters (see June 8, 2014, part 2). Perhaps it was Murphy’s Law or maybe our tomatoes were contrarian by nature, but the vines in the ground grew fuller and produced more fruit. Go figure.

Planting only in the ground will mean fewer tomato plants—and, possibly, fewer tomatoes—but each plant will have more space. And because there will be no tomato plants in the raised beds, we’ll also have more room there to plant other things.

Which leads me to the third idea for next season: garlic. And now is not too soon to be thinking about it.

Because it turns out that garlic wants to vernalize—to spend a winter in the ground before sprouting in the spring. That means it needs to be planted now. Back in November, we purchased two heads of seed garlic (one hard stem, one soft) from one of our favorite market farmers, Jay. (By the way, seed garlic is no different from the garlic we eat as long as it has not been grown with any chemicals to prevent it from sprouting.)

Jay mentioned that he always waits until it is cold enough to make his fingers hurt to plant the garlic (and his garlic is always beautiful so he must be on to something). Today fits the bill, weather-wise, and I went out to plant. I first had to prepare a spot for it in the southwest corner of the west planter. I cleaned up the old mulch and fallen leaves, pulled a few weeds, added a topping of fresh compost, and raked it smooth.

I broke up the heads of garlic and picked the best cloves of each type. Perhaps we waited a bit too long; some of the cloves were starting to dry out. Still, I was able to get eight soft neck and four hard neck cloves and dropped them in one-inch-deep holes (root end down, pointy end up).

I covered the area with fresh mulch and gave it a good watering. If all goes well, we should see sprouts (also called scapes) in early spring.

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It seems that you can not use too much deer repellent.  Like voting, I started spraying early and often and was prepared to protect the lilies, lilac and hostas before they had sent out their new spring growth.  I had hoped to deprive the deer of any of our delicious baby greens this year.

But the deer would not be denied.  Instead of going elsewhere for their daily salad, they started nibbling on the Siberian irises.  No matter that they’ve never eaten them before and that irises are not usually attractive to them.  Because there was nothing better available, they settled for the irises.  I guess I can’t blame them.  This is a case of the deer deciding that the irises were good enough which is keeping in the spirit of this blog.

I’m not happy about it but it has led me to a theory that I will call the Conservation of Munching.  Regardless of the steps that one might take to prevent deer from making lunch of a prized flower or vegetable, another equally precious plant will present itself to the deer to be eaten.  If there are no particularly valuable plants available, the deer will move on the more mundane or common things in the garden.  It might not be their first choice or even their second, but they will settle on something.

It’s not unlike the Second Law of Thermodynamics, the one that states that entropy never decreases.  In fact, it might be a corollary.  After all, a nibbled plant exists in a lower state of order than an unnibbled one.  It’s just a part of the overall theory of life on this planet as hypothesized by Murphy.  Or, put another way, if something can be munched by deer, it will be.

Independently, Rachel and I both came to the conclusion that we should collect and use our rainwater.  She got the idea reading through a gardening book (the very useful and practical Week-by-Week Vegetable Gardener’s Handbook by Ron Kujawski and Jennifer Kujawski).  I came to thinking about it after flipping through a garden supply catalog (I don’t remember which one).

We often get a lot of rain here, especially in the summer when passing thunderstorms can dump several inches of rain in a very short time period.  Sustained rains are great for gardens (assuming they do not cause flooding or damage anything with the force of the falling rain) and keep the plants’ thirst quenched for several days.  Theoretically, a garden that receives an inch or rain per week (on average) does not need any other irrigation.

But during the heavy storms, most of the rain goes down the drain, soaks into the lawn or washes into the ravine.  (Or, sometimes, fills the pool with roadway material.)  Three inches of rain, delivered all at once, does not keep the garden moist for three weeks.  If we can capture some of the excess rain and use it to supply the garden’s irrigation system, we can reduce the amount of water that we draw from our well.

We could buy a turn-key kit but, fortuitously, we have two old plastic garbage cans—don’t worry; they are very clean—that would be fine as reservoirs.  To convert them, we will need some sort of adapter to connect the downspout (from a roof gutter) to the cans.  We will also need to buy pipe and fittings to connect them to each other and to the garden hose.  Our house is located uphill of the garden so it would be a gravity-fed system.  We’ll be moving the adjunct herb garden from the stoop (see February 8, 2013, part 2) and if we locate the rainwater storage there, we will get an additional eight feet of pressure head.

Now, we must consider (optimistically) that some of the time, rainwater will accumulate faster than we can use it.  This means that there should be an overflow mechanism to allow excess water to spill out when the cans get full.  It might be as simple as a hose tapped from the top of the cans to direct the water to the lawn (where it now goes all of the time).  Or, we might make it fancy and attach a sprinkler head or fountain fixture.  Either way, the trick will be to keep the water under control.

And giving due respect to Murphy (and his law), we must also consider that we will not get enough rain for it to be useful.  This means that we should be able to easily connect the garden hose to the house’s hose bib to keep the vegetables watered during dry spells (or worse, a drought).  Convenience is a key factor here because if we fail to revert to the well supply, the garden could dry out.  I will look into ways to automate this but diligence will still be required.

Collecting our rainwater is something that we ought to do, like maintaining a compost bin.  I’ll add it to my list of projects…