Root of the problem
Tough spring weather compounds gardening plans and plantings
Sometimes, when I get a few minutes to spare ... I live a little.
Now, of course, my definition of living might be somewhat different from those of a lot of people.
Because I like to get my hands dirty.
After growing up on a farm, I certainly have no hesitation about immersing my hands into the soil in my garden.
Some people flinch at getting their hands dirty ... I guess that is all right. I try not to judge other people.
Probably they are a little squeamish about putting their fingers in the dirt. After all, there are a lot of organisms lurking. Some bad ones, even.
But again, since I spent my early days in a rural environment, digging and working in the dirt seemed natural to me. You get the soil ready ... you plant ... you water ... you weed ... you nourish ... and hopefully, you get a good payoff.
So far, the spring of 2009 has been anything but a fond memory as far as gardening goes.
Other than the fact it never warmed up, it rained just about every other day and the wind seemed chillier than a former wife; the task of getting my garden ready for planting proceeded smoothly.
I did my usual fall preparation, spading up most of the ground with a little leftover scrub to latch onto and hold the snow that blows across the adjacent meadow.
My garden is about 25 by 20 (feet), so the effort and labor to get the ground ready is no laughing matter.
It is work ... plain and simple ... but done at a leisurely pace ... doable.
Then, once the snow melts and the ground settles, you try to level and get it ready to go.
If I was a rich man, I would probably have a garden tiller.
I know it would save a lot of grunt work.
But I am old fashioned.
Areas of my garden which will harbor my glad bulbs get a little more meticulous preparation. I try to go down about eight inches, loosening the soil so the roots will not be impeded in their downward growth.
Zinnias and other smaller seeds do not need the ground to be worked that deep but the tinier the seed, the better the soil should be prepared.
I usually try to map out the garden scheme in my mind, trying to not have any plants in the same space two successive years. It cuts down on disease problems, at least that’s my thought. Especially something like glads, the critters that bug the bulbs would certainly welcome you not moving their hosts too often.
Everything is wonderful until I actually start putting the bulbs and seeds in the ground. For the last couple of years, I have tried to outline the width and depth of my garden with zinnias. It is a type of flower that supposedly keeps garden pests away. Although the Japanese beetles that have infested my garden the last couple of years have not been too deterred by that fact.
I always try to put in a different kind of zinnias every year or move the couple of different kinds that I plant to different sides of the garden. Again, the field rotation concept.
My earliest planting this year took place right after May 1.
Which turned out ... in a way ... to be a big mistake.
I will explain more about that later.
The north end and east side of my garden was outlined with zinnias. I started at the north end and planted a couple of rows of popcorn. I planned on putting in four rows of popcorn overall, but I decided I wanted to plant a couple of rows at a time.
I also paced off the space for the eventual four rows of popcorn and then start working on my glads. This work depends on how many and how large the bulb population I have left from my cleaning sessions over the winter (I usually try to work on the majority of my bulb preparation on the final day of the year ... if work permits).
This year, my bulb total was down. Last summer was not exactly condusive for glad bulb cultivation. And even with my rotation, I had more than a few problems with disease and insect infestation. I try to error on the side of caution when saving bulbs. If there is more than a smidgen of disease, the bulb usually winds up in the pitch pile.
This year, I came up with a little change for my glad planting. The soil in my garden is excellent clay ... with a tendency to remain damp. On a trip home to the farm in Whiteside County, I brought a five-gallon bucket of sand back with me. I tried to incorporate a little sand into where I planted the glads to help with soil maintenance.
I planted a couple of different times the opening dozen days of May ... before we got deluged with four to five inches of rain on May 15, a Friday. It rained so much that my garden became much more valuable. It became a garden with a lake view. Or a pond view. The low spots in the meadow had so much water in them that I could not get to my garden. The water actually rose up and swirled into the south end of my garden.
It took about two days for the water to subside and another couple of days for the soil to dry out. I lost most of what I had planted at the south end.
I have planted rows of peas and beans in addition to several different plantings of glad bulbs.
Right about now, everything is looking good.
Now, I just need to figure out a way to keep the rabbits and deer from enjoying the fruits of my labor.
