Cucumber Failure

Houston, we have a problem. Things are dieing. The cucumbers, the cabbage, and the majority of the tomatoes.

I'm learning an important lesson here. Heirloom seeds are heirloom seeds for a reason.

Since I've only lived in this area for two summers, I consulted several friends before undertaking this gardening venture. One of them told me the key was heirloom seeds. That the soil was so poor, regardless of how I amended it, the only thing I would have success with was heirloom seeds.

I didn't know how this was going to turn out, so I didn't spend the money on heirloom seeds. I got only one package of them, some tomatoes. They are the only plants of the warmer weather crops I've transplanted outside that are still living. The rest are dead, or heading for the light.

I'm blaming myself for planting them outside too early, but we had a much warmer spring last year, so how was I to know that we'd see one nice 80 degree weekend and then 50's and 60's into June. Ooops.

The one thing I'm having luck with right now is my Spinach. And to think how scared I was of it. Now I get the clippers out twice a week and buzz to my heart's content. I had another large bowlful today. Although they were not heirloom seeds, we are having perfect weather for them. And there is this: The back of the seed packet advised me to mulch them with a high nitrogen formula when they sprung up. So I made my way to the Home Depot and bought a 98cent bag of high nitrogen fertilizer (steer poop) and mulched to my hearts content. (It was not very content, but more appalled by the fragrance). So if nothing else, I will have spinach to show for this effort.

Tomorrow we are having company over and the party is in the back yard. I'm looking forward to explaining why my spinach looks so funny. Kind of sparse and decrepit after I trim it. Anorexic spinach, if you will. That and why the rest of the garden is dead. Except for the back flower bed. It's covered in something viney, which I'm really praying is peas, and not weeds I have mistaken for peas and let go. That could be embarrassing.

Flower Power

I think we have bugs.

To begin with, I planted a nearly apocalyptic amount of broccoli and cauliflower. What can I say, we eat a lot of it. Also, I was pretty sure at least half of my plants would either die, or be unproductive. I did not anticipate the remaining ones would be eaten by bugs, though.

Apparently broccoli and cauliflower make a great midnight snack. I should try that, I always go for the ice cream.

Since I'm going for organic here, I once again turned back to my friend in organic gardening to make me and expert: Google.

What I learned is this: There are a ton of crazy ideas out there, but the ones that make sense all involve the right kind of flowers. Specifically, bugs hate marigolds.

So I send my husband to the store for several seed packets of the tiny little marigolds that grow to be 8 inches high. He returns with a variety of marigolds which range in height from 8 inches to three feet. Seriously, a three foot marigold? Is that even possible?

I'll let you know in a few weeks.

So, I'm cramming marigold seeds in my veggie beds which are already overflowing with plants that are probably planted too close together. Here's hoping they come up, and that bugs really do hate them. If not for their smell, then for the horrible looking design I attempted to eek out with my 4 varieties of marigolds in varying heights.

The best part of all of this? In four days I'm having 20 people over to hang out in my backyard for my son's birthday party. I was already worried about how to keep the small children out of the beds due to veggies. Now I have to be worried about newly emerging floral borders that if trampled will end their short little five day old existences.

On the plus side, my spinach is thriving. I buzzed it again yesterday and after supplying enough for a dinner salad was able to blanche and freeze a pint of it. I feel like a super gardener already. Enough spinach for three salads and a pint and a half in the freezer. If everything else fails (and it probably will) at least I have something to show for my grand experiment.

Spinach Fright

I think some of the spinach is ready. And I'm not quite sure what to do about it. Last week I thinned the spinach, and had one awesome salad to show for it. But the thought of tackling an actual harvest, this I'm not so sure about.


My fears began as I noticed that some of the plants have pretty good sized leaves. I don't even know if spinach is a once and done harvest, or some kind of Energizer Bunny crop that just keeps on going and going...

So I decided that I'd become a Google Expert on Spinach harvesting. Since the majority of my knowledge of anything comes from Google, (sorry Mom and Dad, that $$$ college degree is not as useful) I thought I'd feel better after reading a few instructional sites. Here's what I came up with:

1. I can cut some leaves off in hopes that the plant will grow more, some do.
2. I can cut the whole plant off an inch or so above the ground in hopes that it will regrow a whole plant, or
3. I can pull the whole thing out by the roots, as I did while thinning.

So basically I know as much now after half an hour on Google as I did an hour before I started. While I could have watched an instructional spinach harvesting video on YouTube.com, I felt like that might have been a bit crazy. Or would it be, since I am now cowering at the sight of my partially or perhaps fully mature spinach plants. Why were there not more pictures?

This evening, with my fingers crossed, I will enter the spinach bed, shearers or fingernails in hand (both weapons recommended for harvesting), hold my breath and cut. I suppose I'll start with the two biggest plants, snipping a few outside leaves on one, and giving the other a pretty good hair cut. Then we will see what happens.

My other dilemma is this: This garden, in which I have begun the planting of a basically apocalyptic amount of vegetables is supposed to provide my family with summer produce, as well as plenty of leftovers to freeze or can for the winter. But if I don't have a pound of spinach leaves ready at a time, as the book clearly states I need, how am I supposed to freeze it? And how in world am I supposed to get all those leaves to stay on my kitchen scale to even know when it's a pound? My husband suggested the bathroom scale, but I'm not so into spinach that tastes like feet...

Wish me luck.