SUMMER'S LAST BREATH

It will be 90 degrees again or I'll eat my laptop. And then it will snow here...but until then I'm remembering a shot I made with my phone when I was rushing off to an open house. Of all the summer pictures, this one says it all.

Maximum Joy for a Minimum Investment




Big Max is currently 40 inches in circumference
 

Around these parts I like to use something called the "Work to Fun" ratio as a yardstick for spending our family's precious free time. Let me give a random example.

A man buys a boat for several thousand dollars, and then spends several hundred more for insurance and licensing. The boat needs some work before it can be "enjoyed," and it is located four hours away. The man's wife (who uses a bathroom that hasn't been remodeled since 1938) works on weekends selling real estate and cannot get away often. She has begun receiving bills for the boat's storage, however.
 
The maiden voyage of this craft on a 108 degree day resulted in a lost ski tube, whining offspring, and a van which ran out of gas on the launch ramp. The Work on a scale of 1-10 was a 10, and the resultant Fun was a 2. You do the math: 10/2=5. Anytime that ratio exceeds 1, it's not worth it for me. For the sake of balance, the man claims he did all the work and that the ratio is a subjective measure. Point taken.

Back to Big Max. After throwing several seeds in a raised bed during June, there is now a pumpkin the size of a VW in my yard. Note the weeds--I've been busy. This is Missouri, and the drought continues. We can only wonder how big Max would be if it had rained! Big Max Pumpkins have a Work to Fun ratio of just 10% and are highly recommended.

My Garden's Goodness

The time many Midwestern gardeners dread is upon us; while some welcome the respite of winter and plan for the coming season, others keep growing with row covers and buckets until the last lettuce leaf and pea pod have been harvested. I place myself firmly in the camp of the latter. Every day that a bowl of spinach can be harvested is a cause of joy for me.

The garden, yea my entire yard, has become a canvas on which I work with various plant mediums. Scent, shape, color, texture, and digestibility are all considerations. I have come to desire a seamless flow of vegetation which serve various purposes ranging from delectibility to mere frivolity; in other words, from raspberries to shaggy hybrid tulips.

The back of my property is bordered by a large stone wall. I'm pondering the relocation of my entire berry bramble to the east property line, and planting some espaliered trees in their stead. Trees are marked down in the fall, although varieties may be limited. Gardening has always fueled my sense of frugality. Getting a red maple or apple tree for $4 does wonders for your landscape as well as your budget.

My garden is a landscape puzzle of interchangeable pieces requiring only vision and effort to accomplish the changes. Right now there is a wheelbarrow loaded with ditch lilies (the removal of which was a rare demand on the part of my spouse) needing a home for the winter. A bag of 100 tulip bulbs waits on the porch. Hundreds of rose hips need to be clipped and dried. Tarragon, chives, oregano, and thyme crowd the drying space in my kitchen. Gardening for me never ends and that is why I love it. 

$1 Roses and Other Bargains

Ah, the frost is almost on the pumpkin, a surer sign than the harvest moon that garden bargains are ripe for the picking. This fragrant little bush rose was snapped up at Home Depot last year for one dollar. She suffered a minor attack from Japanese beetles in June, but since then she has bloomed profusely: abundant fuschia-colored buds opening fully to a tye-dyed, white-streaked pink. Installed right outside the back door, this was my daily reminder to focus on what was truly important in life. I always tried to stop and smell the gorgeous perfumed flowers no matter how hurried I was, and offer a prayer for all who needed one.

Right about now the lawn and garden departments are unloading their straggly stock. There may not be a picture or tag specifying the variety, but in the risk vs. reward trade-off, you usually make out ahead. For a small investment, a mystery daylily or rosebush will grace your garden, providing a colorful surprise come spring. Don't forget to peruse the packaged seed display. As a seed saver, I can confirm that year old (sometimes even decade old) seed will sprout if stored properly. Don't be afraid to spend pennies on the dollar for bargain seed. 

All this for a dollar, or two.

It's Not Over...Until It's Over

• Technically the fall season has begun. The Cardinals' Wild Card victory fever is high here, and I'm living among the faithful. Like baseball, fall is not over until it's over. There's still time for lettuces, spinach, and depending on how far south you reside, peas and cabbages, too. The quickest plants to get in before frost are the lettuces and spinach. And if a hard freeze is predicted, covering your crops (while sun and 45+ degree temps return in the daytime) will further extend your growing season.



Butter Crunch or Bibb (left) and Leaf Lettuce (right)

Spinach will give you the advantage of salads today and Spinach Artichoke Dip from your freezer tomorrow. The same is true of the pea pods. Fresh edible pea pods can be harvested sooner than the fully mature pods. Eating the entire pod when it's young and tender cannot be surpassed; it's that good. While having a variety of lettuces is wonderful, having produce which you can both eat today and freeze for later is ideal.

Last year I began a pea crop in March and it was finished by the 4th of July. Peas wilt in the heat and prefer a cool growing season during spring or fall. Replace them with a row of scallions or heat-resistant spinach until August wanes and you are ready to plant another crop.


There are several types of peas, or pea pods. While 'Sugar Snap' are quite good, you don't have to cultivate a Chinese type. Any pea may be picked while immature, i.e., the pod is flat and tender. The pea pods blend in well with the foliage; there will always be those which slip past you making it to full maturity. Harvest them for next year's seed, doing the same with beans in your garden which have been "missed."



Pea Pods

I'm Home

After a long, hot summer in a cold office basement, I am back to the place I love best. When my children were younger, they'd come in, slam the door, drop their books, and get a snack: in that exact order. And they'd call out, "I'm home." Now that half of them are gone, and drive a distance to return, "I'm home" means so much more. After spending the entire growing season in an office, I'm home. The garden was a wreck, but laboring to restore the vegetable and flower beds is the most meaningful thing I've done all season.

The water spigot here represents the font of life for my little acre. One hundred-plus degree days took their toll, reducing cantaloupes and pole beans alike to wilting masses. Cucumber beetles reigned the day. Not spending time in the garden every day allowed huge swaths of weeds to annex my strawberry and raspberry patches.


A couple breezy days of work have mended the garden; several rows of lettuce--Bibb, Iceberg, and Black Seeded Simpson--are coming along fine. The sugar pea pods are a few inches high, and the spinach has passed the cotyledon stage just in time for the rabbits to arrive. Yes, I am home.

Spring Serenity

Never ending garden maintenance is eased by vistas of lush green and paintbox flowers. Don't you wish every day in the garden was as beautiful as this one? More foxgloves to see...I am so proud of these gorgeous stalks that one picture is not enough.

Rudbeckia - Masses of Color This Summer and Next

Growing Perennials from seed is a money-saving venture. Many will not bloom the first year, and perseverance is a prerequisite for not only growing the plants from seed but wintering them over in your garden until next spring. Then, perhaps you'll get to enjoy the flowers you've worked so hard to see.

Rudbeckia, the Latin family of the Black Eyed Susan, has both perennial and annual varieties. Both will flower the first year from seed. This perennial will scatter enough seed from its giant, bushy bouquet to keep you in Black Eyed Susans from now 'til eternity. Finches love the seed, and you'll be entertained just watching them flock to the bare stalks in winter.


This spring my garden had hundreds of "volunteer Susans," and being the frugal type I potted a dozen or so to give away.

Foxgloves From Seed

Fresh, Organic Sweets Are Right Out Back

Last summer I walked into a grocery and the only item on my list from the produce section was a lemon. It was a stunning revelation. The garden at home was full of strawberries, blueberries, raspberries, and a melon patch which included watermelon and cantaloupe. Not to mention that everyday items such as onions, carrots, potatoes, eggplant, lettuce, spinach,tomatoes, peppers, corn....I'm losing track...abounded. Growing food is work; hot, arduous, dirty labor. But the rewards are sweet and sometimes spicy. And preserving food will extend those rewards into the cold winter months.

My strawberry patch is overflowing with ruby red Sequoia berries. This type was chosen over the Quinalt ever bearing variety, a decision I do not regret. Despite the claim that they produce all season long, the Quinalt plants which I have located throughout my garden haven't produced well. They do flower, but the yield is measly. I wholeheartedly recommend Sequoia protected by fencing. The 18" netting which surrounds our Sequoia patch has kept out rabbits, increasing our yield.

The Dwarf Elberta Peach Tree is loaded with over 100 little peaches; it's a dwarf, but the fruit will reach full size. Practicality tells me that some of the fruit may have to be removed early or supports made for the smaller branches. It will reach 8-10 ft. in height and needs no pollinator, although adding a Red Haven Peach in the yard is said to increase fruit on both trees.

Reaping What We've Sown

On many a hot day working in the garden, my thoughts turned to just what our labor would yield. Now, December and 30 degrees, a couple of my smaller butternut squashes will be roasted and cooked into a spicy soup. Here's the recipe:


Spicy Butternut Squash Soup
2-1/2 - 3 cups pureed butternut squash*
2 TBSP oil
2 tsp Cajun spice (or 1 tsp cayenne pepper)
1 cup diced raw parsnip (or potato)
1/3 cup minced scallions
3 cups chicken (or vegetable) broth
1 medium jalapeno pepper, seeded and quartered
Salt and pepper to taste


Prepare the squash: slice 1 medium butternut lengthwise and seed. Bake for 30 min at 325 degrees OR microwave until tender. Scoop out pulp and freeze any extra.
While the squash is being cooked, sautee the scallion in oil. Add broth, parsnip, and squash; simmer until tender, about 50 minutes. Remove pepper strips and puree the soup.


This soup is great when topped with a scoop of steamed brown rice. Substituting vegetable broth easily makes this a hearty vegan meal.

Photo of simmer stage.

I use a hand mixer to puree the soup. Don't forget to top with a half cup of steamed brown rice. It's quite hearty.

Serranos

Planting Serrano chili peppers yielded a bumper crop for me; nine plants were about six too many...

Bugs don't bother them, nor do rabbits or possums.

I've strung them up to dry and wonder if our local Mexican eatery, the Hacienda, will trade chili pepper strands for a Margarita or two.

By the way, if you're crushing your own chili powder, start by removing the seeds and conduct a taste test. The seeds are the hottest part and you may want to go easy on them.

All Things Pumpkin

It's been a long summer of defending my pumpkin patch against squash bugs. At last count it produced 27 Sugar Pie pumpkins and 3 of the larger Jack O'Lantern variety. If you've ever made a pumpkin pie from scratch, you can attest to the work involved. But finding the canned type gritty and over-oxidized, I've grown to accept the chore in exchange for a year round supply of scrumptious pumpkin.

The Sugar Pie pumpkins-- smaller, darker, thicker--each make about two of the best pies you've ever eaten and are very much worth the work. There are endless uses for pumpkin puree: bread or muffins, biscotti, mousse, custard, and my favorite, the Pumpkin Torte with cinnamon whipped cream layers.

I usually process 3-4 pumpkins at a time. First, cut the pumpkins in sections, removing the seeds and scraping the inside smooth. Use a serrated knife and large cutting board for this task and proceed with care. The Sugar Pie has thick, meaty walls and is not very stringy. Bake the sections in a large covered pan for about an hour, or until soft. Scoop the soft meat from the skin and process the cooled pumpkin in a food processor 2-3 cups at a time, adding a small amount of water if the pulp is too thick. Then use or freeze. Don't forget to save the seeds; some for next year's patch and the rest to oven roast for snacks.

Note: If you've added water or thawed your puree to find it separated, just place it in a strainer, lined with a coffee filter, until it becomes the consistency of thick pudding. The USDA does not recommend canning pumpkin, and freezing works well.

How I Won the Battle Against Squash Bugs

In the fall of 2009, I had dozens of lovely orange pumpkins ready for harvest. While attempting to cut the stems, I noticed armies of squash bugs covering the tops. The vines and stems were rotted, and so were all but a few pumpkins.



The previous summer I'd grown all of my pumpkins on a fence with no problems. But the word must have gotten out: hoards of squash bugs were destroying my crop . So late in the season I was left with only a few pumpkins.



This summer I was ready. The first step in any battle is to know your enemy. The nearly 1" long brown squash bugs start small--a tiny, bowling pin formation of eggs on the undersides (and occasionally upper side) of the leaves. Pressing a piece of duct tape against the leaf will lift the eggs with little or no damage. A daily routine of search and destroy reduces their numbers greatly. If you find the small, grey nymphs on the underside of a leaf, simply smash them with the palm of your hand (they don't bite). Or you can give them the "duct tape" treatment. The nymphs generally huddle together while very small and are easy to target en masse. If you come upon a large leaf that is covered with squash bugs, clip the leaf and plunge it in a bucket of water. You may lose the leaf but you'll rid your garden of hundreds (and potentially thousands) of destructive pests.
I've never found an effective chemical to combat squash bugs. The main pumpkin I grow is the sugar pumpkin, you know: pumpkin pie, pumpkin bread, pumpkin biscotti, pumpkin cookies. I found it was possible to control the bugs without resorting to pesticides. Next year I'm going back to the fence: it saves room and keeps the fruit off the ground.

UPDATE (9/30/11): This year I worked during the summer months and spent an abbreviated amount of time in my garden. I never had time to erect a trellis. Despite this, squashes (including pumpkins) and melons were, for the most part, free of squash bugs. My garden once crawled with these devils. I firmly believe that eradicating hundreds of the pests, their eggs, and nymphs was the key. This morning I went through my pumpkin patch and while searching in earnest, I couldn't find a single one. The photo below was taken last summer while patrolling my squash patch.

Adult and nymph squash bugs, moments before their demise, staking out a butternut squash

Extending Your Garden Season

The garden clock is winding down all over the midwest, but out back pumpkins are still ripening; lettuces, spinach, peas, and green onions --my fall plantings-- are up and running. Brussels sprouts are ready to harvest, tomatoes just keep coming, and peppers of all sorts are turning various shades of red and yellow. One vine of butternut squash, a new venture for me, has over a dozen offerings. They can be left on the vine until the first frost.


Several large containers of spinach and bibb lettuce can be put in my three season porch or covered when the cold hits. This weekend I may sow more carrots, a Thanksgiving staple here.


Most state extension services recommend vegetables which can be grown during the fall. Many such as cole crops, spinach, and lettuce actually thrive during cool weather.


Fall is a good time to save seed from flower and vegetable plants for next year's garden.