Grow Your Own – The Rise Of The Horicultural Sneaker
by John Weckerle
Today’s gardening adventure started relatively early – before the remains of yesterday’s impotent clouds had entirely cleared from the sky. The sounds of Rice Krispies rose in the surrounding woods. That’s right…Rice Krispies. I am one of those people lucky enough to have enough hearing left to actually hear the tentative tune-ups of recently emerged cicadas testing out their instruments before bursting into symphonic harmony, and the sound (as I hear it; nobody else here at NM-Central.com headquarters can) closely approximates that audibly entertaining breakfast cereal that we enjoyed so many years ago, and many still do today.
Today’s objective was to prepare and begin planting the north bed. Having learned my lesson last year, and having seen the benefits of temporary enclosures, the first step was to begin construction of a wind-protection setup that could be quickly converted to a full-blown mini-greenhouse should the temperature pull the sort of fast one it did last May. I set out to create something that would be easy to water and inspect – and ended up with a running shoe.
Before beginning the soil preparation, I created the first part of the enclosure. I simply took a roll of plastic sheeting (width of 10 feet, folded accordion-style into a 2.5 foot wide roll), wrapped it around the base of the bed, and marked it off, leaving a little overlap for good measure (and good thing, as it turned out). I then took it into the shop, cut it off, and added grommets a few inches from each end. The grommets passed through only two of the four layers, which would become the outermost layers, holding the remaining two (an additional five feet wide – or tall, actually) against the frame, and the whole thing is fastened by twine tying the grommets on each end together. This extra material is there so that I may, should frost threaten, pull it out, stretch it up, and tie the whole thing up like a big Hershey’s kiss. Here’s a cross-section of the grommeting effort.
I began stirring up the soil and was delighted to find that it was not only friable, but smelled delicious – nearly edible, one might think, and I understood why we’ve all seen so many toddlers standing in a vegetable garden with a mouthful of soil. I added some of this year’s crop of compost, as shown in our next photo (whose probable sole purpose is to show off how well it came out; the composter that produced it has been in operation at its current location for ten years, and it has never let us down).
Once stirred in, the combination of the compost and the existing soil produced a strikingly colored soil:
Well, perhaps not, but it was a good lead-in to one of this year’s experiments. The red plastic horticultural mulch was a birthday gift from my good friend and fellow garden enthusiast, Gerry Campisi of Albuquerque, who is also experimenting with raised bed gardening this year. This material is reputed to enhance growth and increase productivity, especially with respect to fruiting varieties such as tomatoes and peppers – which is a big part of what this bed is intended to hold.
Next, I added plants. Into the bed went tomatoes – cherries, beefsteaks, and a roma – green bell peppers, basil, dill, and mexi-bell peppers (these, and the romas, were also courtesy of Gerry). A few currently unoccupied squares will be home to additional lettuce and other plants to be added next week. The basil is there because a) we love basil, and b) we’ve heard from too many people that growing tomatoes with basil enhances the taste of the tomatoes. The dill is there because tomato hornworms love dill even more than tomatoes. Because the dill has an airy growth habit, the hornworms are easily spotted, and can be easily plucked and sent packing. The dill, of course, remains behind to enhance everything from fish to potato salad – a good deal for everyone except, perhaps, the hornworms, who find themselves foraging for something less rewarding.
Finally, shade cloth was added – simply fastened at the corners and at one point on each side – to protect the plants as they harden off. The entire thing, as previously noted, has the look of a giant, stubby sneaker, thanks to the trellis at the north end.
As for the adjacent bed, perhaps it is time to take a peak inside:
Visible here are sage, oregano, thyme, lettuce, chard, kale, and recently-emerged string beans. Not visible are the cilantro and basil. The spinach has not yet sprouted. Looks like salad and cooked greens are on the menu soon, and I’ve got an artichoke and garbonzo stew recipe that’s got some of that sage’s name written all over it.
After all that, we were off to Parker’s to pick up the next round – but that’s a story for another day!
One Response “Grow Your Own – The Rise Of The Horicultural Sneaker”
I’m jealous.