Garden Update | November 2020
It’s finals week at school. But let it not be said that I would let a trifle like final exams come between me and a monthly garden update. (I jest! Truthfully, I have only one more test left, and it’s open note so the pressure’s off.) Tomorrow is my very last day. I know myself better than to think this marks the end of my desire for more learning. Au contraire. I have what could be described as unquenchable academic hunger, the endless curiosity and drive to embark on new projects that is both the blessing and the curse of every Enneagram 7 I have met. But most of the learning I’m looking forward to in the immediate future is self-directed. I want to plant out an expanded trial garden, establish some turf plot tests, maybe test-sow a meadow. None of these can happen at our current property, and the land hunt continues. I’ve never had more ideas and less time than I do now, an unbalance which I find extraordinarily encouraging. There are few things worse than the opposite scenario: lots of time and few ideas. I feel as if I’ve had absolutely no time at all to work in the garden recently, but looking back it turns out that I have done (just a few) things this past month.
Bulbs | I finally replanted garlic cloves from the bulbs that I planted last year! My timing was later than ideal, but still, a rewarding experience to plant from the supply that I harvested over the summer. From garden, to garden, and the cycle of production could theoretically last forever as long as I don’t drop the ball. I also planted tulips and daffodils - there is no better delayed gratification than bulbs.
Leaves | At the end of last year, we began to look critically at the leaves that we hauled out to the street for the city to come take away. Why were we allowing such valuable organic matter to leave our property if there was any way to capture and recycle it onsite? Composted leaves, or leaf mold, is a treasure of the forest; just think of the fluffy black earth that makes up a mature forest’s floor. It was created over decades leaves falling to the ground and decaying in place, enriching the soil year upon year. Brian set up a curved fence enclosure in the shape of a “C.” We call it the leaf hug, and it holds all the fall leaves from our 3/4 acre and allows them to break down over the next year. It requires no ratios and no other ingredients. Time and benign neglect alone turn it into a valuable topdressing material. We used last year’s gatherings to mulch the garden this year instead of purchasing compost.
Seeds & Cover Crop | At the end of the summer, I purchased several varieties of hardy annual seeds, and I even managed to start them under lights. But I quickly found that in caring for a new human baby, I was able to care a lot less for baby plants, and the effort was mostly a bust. I planted a few things out, but mostly I threw various seeds directly in the bare spots left from autumn cleanup. I wish them well and hope to see some fun appearances in the next few months. If not, nothing lost. The failures teach just as much as the successes.
Bright Spots: New Perennials & Fall Color | At the end of last month, I helped install a new perennial garden for a friend. In researching and sourcing special plants for her, I knew I wanted to grow some of the varieties that were new to me right alongside her, so I bought a few extras to plant out at home. I planted them all either in the cutting garden or the path garden, depending on their light needs. I’m so eager to see how they all do next season, both at her house and mine. The fall color has been extraordinary this year. I’m not sure if it’s my imagination, but I don’t remember the show lasting as long in the past as it has this year. What started as blushes on the first eager red maples early October is still going strong with crepe myrtles, apple trees, and Japanese maples (on our property, at least) - now even into December.
Winter Project Planning: After September’s property disappointment, we have greatly retooled our winter plans - really, all of our plans. There are certain things we know we’ll never do here now, and anything we still decide to take on will fall into one of two categories: first, to get what’s already here into even better shape for new owners should we need to sell on a dime, and second, small-scale experimentation within the bounds of either food or flower growing. I’ll still sow seeds, try new perennials, and work in the garden. One thing that falls into this category is my desire to try growing vegetables in a raised bed. We’ve been thinking that we might build just one in the courtyard over the winter to give the method a try. I know that it will work splendidly, and my main question is just exactly how much better the results will be than growing in the ground among my flowers. I’ll be able to target the water, fertility, and light exactly to the needs of the veggies in a raised bed. For fruiting plants, that should be really helpful. I want to be able to talk about it as an option for small space kitchen gardens and give advice based on experience.
I hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving! Happy December. 2020 is almost over; may she RIP never to rise again.
