RABBITS AND CHICKENS AND MULCH

Last year, we had two major issues with our garden: weeds and those disgustingly enormous tomato worms. So, we decided to get a head start on those issues this year. We have loaded up with organic pesticide, and we are buying untreated mulch and hay to spread around the plants and down the aisles. I know that mulch will not completely stop weeds from growing, but we are hoping to retard the growth enough to make the weeds manageable.

However, we have been accosted by a new enemy. Our garden is being decimated by a humongous rabbit. Yes, one gigantic rabbit is singlehandedly destroying our fledgling plants. We've lost half of our tomatoes and broccoli, and we've lost all of our lettuce and beans. So, when I went to the local co-op to purchase my hay and untreated mulch (along with some seed corn to bolster our currently pathetic corn crop), I asked the co-opers for some advice on dealing with the pesky ... um ... is a rabbit a rodent? The co-op staff gave me three suggestions.

The first suggestion was to spread human hair around the perimeter of the garden. I figured we could get some hair clippings from the local salon. However, Grampy nixed that idea. He was a little grossed out, and declared that he could not eat vegetables that had been nourished by other people's rotting hair. Fair enough.

The second suggestion was to sprinkle Cayenne pepper around the perimeter of the garden. The smell will temporarily keep the rabbits out. Of course, it must be reapplied after every rain or watering, and the rabbit will eventually get used to the smell and invade the garden again.

So, the third suggestion was to follow the second suggestion. Once the rabbit gets used to the smell of Cayenne pepper, we need to sprinkly shavings of Irish Spring soap around the garden. Again, this is only a temporary solution, as the rabbit will eventually get used to that smell, too; but, the hope is that the above methods will deter the rabbit long enough to allow the plants to grow a little. Once the plants get too big, the rabbit won't want to eat them anymore, and will be forced to seek tender young shoots elsewhere.

While I was receiving these pearls of wisdom from the co-opers, my cherubs were happily occupied with this:

Yes, a big trough of chicks. Fortunately, the chickens were covered with netting. Although my cherubs found them to be adorable in the trough, I think there would have been mass hysteria if the chicks had been able to make actual contact with them.

VEGGIES, VEGGIES, VEGGIES!

We harvest more vegetables every day. The girls love picking them. Check out the size of this zucchini!

And they love eating them. This corn is raw and unwashed, freshly shucked by the hands of Big Daddy and neighbor Doug. The girls couldn't be bothered with waiting for them to be cleaned and cooked.

THEY WERE HUGE!!!!

Ah, gardens. They are both amazing and terrifying, home to tasty veggies and fearsome beasts.

So, I mosied out to the garden today with the cherubs to pick a green pepper (we're making homemade, turkey-burger sloppy joes tonight). As I was out there, I surveyed my mostly weed-free garden and checked up on the status of my many veggies. It was raining, so I didn't want to pick anything other than the requisite green pepper (even though there were quite a few zucchini, yellow squash, and cucumbers that were ready to harvest).

I wandered over to our thriving tomato plants and, to my dismay, noticed that there were bites taken out of several green, German Queen tomatoes. Now, I've heard from neighbor Doug and Tanya that possums and/or racoons like to sample tomatoes when they're getting close to ripe, so I leaned forward to pluck the sampled tomatoes off (thinking all the while that I would try neighbor Doug's trick of hanging metal pans from the twine on which our tomatoes were ... uh, vining ... in an attempt to scare away the little thieves). I recoiled in horror when I saw this ...

Thanks, by the way, to one of the most helpful websites ever, What's That Bug, for the photo. As you may have noticed from previous posts like this and this, I'm not a big fan of critters. I wasn't about to get close enough to this thing to take a picture. The monstrosity was, like, 3 1/2 inches long and thicker than my thumb!!!!

Anyway, I ran to the shed for our organic pesticide, and emptied the entire container on our five tomato plants. It was then that I noticed that there was not one, but two of the hideous creatures lurking on my poor German Queen plant. Well, they should be gone tomorrow, because I pesticided the heck out of 'em!

THE MOWING OF THE LAWN

It's quite a production, what with our lawn being 7.02 acres. Usually, Big Daddy mows in sections, and it takes him about three days. This last time, however, Big Daddy enlisted the help of his twin sister's husband, Uncle Matt.

Since it was a Saturday, and Saturday is family day, we turned the mowing into a family activity. I manned the camera (and weeded the garden, of course - no spiders this time). Big Daddy hitched up the manure cart to the back of the mower.

The girls and Aunt Tracy were carted about behind him.

Uncle Matt raced around behind them on the small mower.



After the mowing, neighbor Sandy took everyone for a ride on her cart.

Then, we had a barbecue by the pool to close out the day.

And, no barbecue can be complete without Aunt Tracy pointing at the meat like a mental patient.

Early bedtime, anyone? No? Of course not.

CRITTERS

Big Daddy took the girls swimming yesterday. I used this delightful opportunity to go commune with nature (i.e., weed the garden) without the "help" of the cherubs.

So, there I was, merrily getting covered in nature, pulling out handfuls of weeds, responding to the repeated calls of "Hi, Mom!" and "Whatcha doin', Mom?" from my girls in the pool. I pulled a clump of weeds adjacent to an onion plant, and saw in the resulting hole in the dirt what looked like the carcass of a beetle or something. I was curious, so I poked it. To my horror, the "beetle carcass" flipped over, spread out its legs, and revealed itself to be an enormous spider (note, I'm not a big fan of being surprised by unexpected critters, and I am not a big fan of spiders, especially big, hairy ones like the one that was now poised to strike if I moved a muscle).

Fortunately for you, my readers, Big Daddy was in reach of a camera to document my dilemma. Here I am, after first recoiling in terror from the vicious beast.

My first course of action was to try to get the spider out of the garden so I could continue weeding. Now, there was no way in creation that I was going to go near that thing with any part of my body, so I began grabbing gardening tools and tossing them at the spider. But, Spidey the Fearless didn't budge. After availing myself of all nearby gardening implements and several small rocks, I started to wonder if spraying it with Deep Woods Off from a safe distance would be effective. Then, the most unnerving thing of all happened ...

The spider began burrowing into the ground, right next to a yellow onion plant!!! I am mortified to think that there could be more of those big, hairy, creepy critters living right below the surface of my garden's soil, waiting to attack me when I pull out a weed. Yikes!

Needless to say, that little clump of weeds near the yellow onion plant is staying right where God put it. And I'll be wearing my gardening gloves from now on. And I'll be gardening standing up, despite the obvious opportunities that gives Big Daddy to take pictures of my back side sticking up in the air. Which he will.

ANATOMY OF A TANTRUM

It was close to naptime for Cakes. She had been playing in the front yard with Aunt Tracy and Bean, but she got irritated with them and ambled over to the garden where I was picking weeds. She insisted on sitting in my lap in the 90 degree weather, and then started getting annoyed when I reached around her to pull the weeds. That led to stomping on the carrots, which brought about a "don't do that," from me, and the screaming began.

Big Daddy, upon hearing the ruckus in the back yard, came out with a camera to document my increasing frustration, and finally the trip back to the house for a bath and a nap.

IT'S NOT THAT HOT 'N' HUMID ...

... So, here are some more pictures of our humble gardens. There's Big Daddy, surveying the watering of the corn garden with his enormous, industrial-strength, tripod sprinkler. Big Daddy used to water our little, suburban, .2-acre lawn with this. "If a little bit's good, a whole lot more's better."



And, neighbor Doug saunters over to assist Big Daddy in the watering surveillance.



Check out the size of our squash and cucumber plants! They're doing the best out of all the veggies, I think.



Here is one of several yellow squashes (or, is "squash" one of those words that is both plural and singular - like "deer" and "fish"?).




And look at the size of this zucchini! Can you believe I didn't even notice it until today?



I will have to show you our tomatoes and beans when I'm finished weeding them. It's a bit embarrassing to show you how woefully neglectful I've been of the weeds.


Oh, and that Ichiban eggplant? Grilled with balsamic vinegar and EVOO - thanks Mama Changa!

OUR FIRST CROP!

Okay, so it's just one Ichiban eggplant, and it's about the size of a banana.


But the rest of the plants are coming along wonderfully! When it's not so stinkin' hot 'n' humid outside, I'll take some more photos. (Lots of apostrophes ...)

And so, the question of the day: What do I prepare for my family with my lone Ichiban?

OUR ALMOST WEED-FREE GARDEN

After hours of nature-filled laboring, I present to you our latest garden update.


But first, I would like everyone to take note of Cakes' delightful and creative ensemble. As a base, we have a red-checked capri set, adorned with embroidered ladybugs. Layered on top is a turquoise-checked button up shirt with embroidered flowers. And yes, who can forget the big girl panties worn on the outside of the pants?



Now, on to the veggies. First, we have cucumber blossoms.


Next, we have two tiny Roma tomatoes.

Then, our very first (and hopefully not only) Ichiban eggplant.

And finally, our semi-pitiful corn garden (the one that nearly swallowed me whole while I was thinning).

Fresh veggies by the 4th of July, maybe? I hope so!

OH, MY BLISTERED FINGERS!

Have I mentioned I'm from the suburbs? This doesn't mean that I'm anti-nature or anything. I like to look at nature. Sometimes I even like to sit outside and surround myself with nature. But, I'm not a big fan of actually getting nature on me. That, coupled with the fact that gardening is a near-impossible task with two very "helpful" toddlers uprooting corn stalks and eating peppermint leaves that are covered in dirt and bugs, has made for quite the weedy garden.

So, I took advantage of Big Daddy's twin being here today, and I left the cherubs in the house to go weed. I get most of my gardening advice from Plantea, and that wonderful website told me that the most efficient and effective weeding strategy is to slowly pull all weeds out by hand. This means that the dormant weeds underground aren't brought to the surface of the soil to sprout, and it also means that my fingers are covered in blisters and poo-dirt.

Eventually, the cherubs noticed that I wasn't in the house, and they wandered out in search of me. My cherubs are not suburban chicks, so they have no objection to coating themselves in nature from head to foot, and ingesting handfuls of nature (such as dirt, sweet basil leaves, peppermint leaves, and onion grass). It's too bad I didn't have my camera handy when Cakes was enthusiastically licking poo-dirt off of the handheld rake thingy (no idea what it's called, but you probably can figure out what I'm talking about).

So, here I sit, with nature under my fingernails, blisters on my fingers, and a semi-weedy garden.

THE THINNING OF THE CORN

First a little explanation for those of you who, like me, did not know this chore existed: When you plant corn, you put two kernels in each hole. Once the plants reach a certain height, you pluck out the corn plant that is the smaller and weaker of the two. I guess it's just a little assurance that you'll get at least one corn stalk from each place you plant. I do the thinning for Big Daddy, because he finds it extremely painful to pluck up plants that he has loved and nurtured.

Corn grows best in clay (says the all-knowing Internet). Since clay is abundant here in the South, we picked a particularly clay-y area to plant our corn. Thinking it would be easier to thin the corn if the ground were wet and soft (as opposed to hard and dry), I put the sprinklers on for 20 minutes before beginning the thinning process.

That was a mistake.

Here are my footprints in the clay:

Here are the flip-flops (yes, I garden in flip-flops; I do everything in flip-flops) that were wrenched from my feet by the suction of the clay (apparently clay is a distant relative of quicksand):

And here are my feet after I finished the thinning barefoot and digging out my dismal flip-flops (I even got married in flip-flops):

It's like Bigfoot! I had to peel the clay off with the help of a strong-spraying hose.

By the way, those little feet next to mine belong to Cakes. Note the shoes are on the wrong feet. She was very proud of putting on her own shoes. What you don't see in the picture is Bean, very proud of putting on her own pants, which were backwards. And yes, I let them in public like that. Like I said before, I like to encourage creativity and freedom of expression. I also like to encourage self-reliance and pride in accomplishments.

But back to the point of this whole post ... I will be thinning the remainder of the corn pre-sprinkler.

SUBURBAN FARMERS

My husband and I are both suburbanites. Our agricultural/ horticultural experience is limited to keeping our lawn green. So, now that we are actually trying to plant a garden, we are constantly amazed with how much we don't know about gardening, dirt (I mean, soil), and all those pesky critters that are out to destroy all of our hard work.

In a way, the lack of gardening experience is a good thing, because it's so amazing to us when we go outside and see, for instance, big ol' bean sprouts where there was nothing the day before. We love checking out each row for any new growth, and we feel like kids at Christmas.





But, the lack of know-how definitely has its downside. We spend a lot of time on the internet trying to figure out how to grow things, how much to water things, where to plant things so they don't cross-pollinate and taste like something else (did anyone else from the suburbs even know that could happen?!), etc. Today, we had Mr. David (remember him from My Little Doctor?) over to do up some contracts, and he helped us water our garden. Big Daddy ("If a little bit's good, a whole lot more's better") was concerned that I wasn't putting enough water on the plants. I replied, "Well, the internet said that I should water it until it until it takes three seconds for the water to absorb into the ground." This caused David to shake his head and mutter, "Yankee internet farmers ..."

Yeah, maybe, but our plants are growing!

A SERIES OF RANDOM THOUGHTS AND OCCURRENCES

It's been a few days since I last blogged. This was mostly due to the screaming, fighting cherubs who, for some reason, have been especially annoyed with each other lately. In an attempt to quell the racket, I've been spending a lot of time outside with the girls. This means that I've been gardening, weeding, vacuuming the pool, running errands - pretty much anything to keep the girls distracted and busy.

I started watching a movie on IFC the other day called "A Love Song for Bobby Long." Critics gave it three out of four stars, but didn't grab my attention right away, and I ended up falling asleep towards the beginning of it. But the point of this verbal vignette is not the movie. The point is that Scarlett Johansson played a girl who was (for lack of a better word) a "trailer trash" character. Not everyone that lives in a trailer is trashy; there were subtle visual clues that gave one the "trashy" impression, such as a filthy mess of leftover food and beer cans littering her trailer while she sat on the couch in a tube top watching soap operas and smoking, occasionally running her hand through her "femme-mullett." What struck me is that my hair looked exactly the same as Scarlett's when they were trying to make her look trailer trashy. Not the look I was going for (not that I actually go for a look - I'm happy when I get time to bathe daily, but I certainly don't want a femme-mullett, even if they are supposed to be coming back in style), and I began leaving desperate voicemails for my hairdresser friend. Sensing the urgency of my hair situation, she obligingly cut my hair in her kitchen, and I feel much better about life.

I have fought a losing battle with my youngest over weaning. Yes, she's almost two and still nurses. I keep reminding myself that breastmilk is good for my child. I keep reminding myself that in other cultures (New Zealand, for example), women nurse their children until they are four or five years old. I keep reminding myself that she will not graduate high school unweaned. I keep reminding myself of this when we are in public and she thrusts her hand down my shirt, starts squeezing my ... um, my "breastfeeding equipment" and chanting in her not-so-quiet toddler voice, "Boobies, Mom! Boobies, Mom!" Any suggestions from successful weaners are welcome. Anyway, this morning, the girls were playing on my bed while I tried to catch a few more minutes of sleep. I heard Bean say, "Cakes, I have boobies." I cracked open my eyes to see Bean trying to nurse Cakes. Later, as I changed Cakes' diaper, she tried to nurse Bean. I guess my girls have a future in lactation consultation?

We planted a second garden. All together now, what is my husband's motto? "If a little bit's good, a whole lot more's better!" Hence, garden number two, full of corn, watermelons, and Big Max pumpkins. Burnie wanted to plant pumpkins for the sole purpose of making Jack-o'-Lanterns with the children in the fall. He saw the name "Big Max" on the pumpkin seed packet, and the motto kicked in. Now, we can look forward to Jack-o'-Lanterns that are six feet in diameter and weigh 100+ pounds. Maybe we'll climb into the hollowed out pumpkin and carve it from the inside out. Anyway, we planted a virtual plethra of corn and watermelons. While I was getting my "femme-mullett" removed, I wondered aloud to my hairdresser friend what we are going to do with approximately fifty, 25-35 pound watermelons and a couple hundred ears of corn. She wisely suggested piling all excess melons in the back of Burnie's pick-up truck and parking on the side of a busy road with a sign. Sounds like a plan!

Thus concludes my random thoughts and occurrences since Saturday.

OUR GARDEN

I have learned that gardening, like pretty much everything else in life, is easier without two "helpful" toddlers. I spent hours thinking of activities that would distract my children while Big Daddy and I planted; but, as far as the cherubs were concerned, none of those well-thought-out activities could compare with the joy of digging up freshly planted seeds and plants. Or with the joy of moving all of my carefully placed plant labels so that I was unsure what was planted where. Or with the joy of stripping all the leaves off of a tomato plant to see if they tasted as good as the basil and peppermint plants' leaves.


Or with the joy of dumping spadefuls of poo-dirt on each other's heads.

And, since we spent so much time in the dirt, we got to start and end the day with a bath. Fortunately, the evening bath was happily received by the kiddos, who were covered in the afore-mentioned poo-dirt, plus soaking wet from playing with the hose (another well-thought-out activity planned to divert their attention away from the garden).

So, we're waiting with baited breath for the first signs of life from our seeds, and for the first fruits (well ... veggies) of our labor to appear. In all, it was a productive (albeit lengthier than necessary) undertaking, and we're thrilled to have our garden.





Happy belated Mother's Day to me!

HORSE ... ER ... POO

We live in the country now. This means Big Daddy has some big plans for our little 7.03 acres. Most of these plans involve livestock of some sort, but that's not going to happen any time soon (or ever, if I have anything to say about it). However, one plan of his that will soon be a reality is a vegetable garden.

Those of you who know Big Daddy, know his motto - "If a little bit's good, a whole lot more's better." He applies that to, well, pretty much to every area of his life. The vegetable garden is no exception. He was ready to have half of our property plowed up. I talked him into a garden the size of our neighbor's (about 20' X 40'). We'll have plenty of room for corn (which has become somewhat of an obsession with him for some reason), and all the other peppers, tomatoes, beans, etc. that he wants to plant. We may even have room for some daisies and black-eyed susans.

So, the plants are sitting in little pots on our back porch, awaiting the tilling of the ground. Our neighbor is going to get a roto-tiller today or tomorrow for Burnie to borrow. In the meantime, Big Daddy has been gathering manure. For a while, he insisted that we travel an hour away to ride around his business partner's neighbor's pasture picking up cow pies. But, he eventually reconciled himself to going to the woods behind our house and picking up the manure our neighbor's horses have left on the trails. He has spent almost every free moment yesterday and today collecting horse poo and making a big pile behind our house.

And, of course, if a little bit of poo is good, a whole lot more poo is better.

Did you know that horses "produce" 50 pounds of manure a day? I believe it.