War on Weeds

Desperate times take desperate measures…

With the especially wet spring we’re having, the weeds have gone bonkers. And right in the middle of dandelion season, John came down with a bug. So he wasn’t able to get to weed-eating until this week, just as those bad boys were 2 feet high and had already gone to seed. 

And here I was with freshly weeded beds, all ready for seed-sowing. As John filled the weed-eater with gas, all I could imagine was those dandelion seeds flying through the air, and settling into my seed-ready soil!

The thing is, homestead-style food-growing is focused on aiming for maximum productivity, with minimal effort. The result can be less-than-aesthetically pleasing gardening spaces…or downright ugly!

Which is what’s happening this spring. Preparing for John’s first weed-eating this season, I had to move fast. Rather than leave my beds open, to fill with wall-to-wall weed seedlings—and face an entire summer fighting weeds—I chose practicality over good looks. 

I hauled out every tarp around our place, no matter how old and cruddy, and tracked down every single piece of cardboard and just covered everything up! I’ve used rocks and small chunks of lumber to weigh things down, which as you can see, only makes the yard look worse.

Some of the path areas are filled with horsetail, and I’ve used steel roof scraps as a killing mulch. I even employed used chicken feed sacks to cover up horsetail…they have like four layers of thick paper, and actually take several years to break down. 

Covering up weeds, whatever it takes!

Yep, it looks terrible. But I’ll be pulling off much of the cardboard to sow seeds in a few days. And after the solid warms up, uncovering more beds. 

And hopefully, the cardboard and tarps will save me hours of weeding this summer!

Left a little spot open for volunteer cilantro

Little Britches Gone

Miss Broody’s ruffled feathers say, “keep away!”

Our hen Little Britches had been staying in the coop all day for the last week or so—I’m sure the bobcat had been sniffing around again. Each time I came out to feed our two remaining girls, she would emerge to greet me, but wasn’t quite herself.

Our smallest and feistiest girl, she was normally a good eater. But all week, she had only half-heartedly picked at the feeder.  She wasn’t sick or anything, since she was still laying eggs.  

The other hen has been broody—staying on an empty nest 24/7, and no amount of coaxing will get her off. I’ve had to pull Miss Broody (our generic name for whatever hen is broody) off the nest, and place her in front of the waterer to get her to drink anything. And put food on the ground, again, right in front of her, to get her to eat.

Anyway, Little Britches has had no one to hang out with—she was probably a bit lonesome.

But her behavior at the waterer told the full story: she’d take a quick drink, then stop, stretch up her neck, and look around, before taking another sip. It was exactly the same way the girls acted after the hawk attack in March.

Since then, we haven’t allowed the girls out of their caged pen unless we’re right there with them. It’s a shame they haven’t had much opportunity to scratch in the orchards, enjoy the new shoots of grass and all the springtime bugs. But in the cage, John and I knew they would at least be completely safe.

Of course, Little Britches didn’t know that—not since weeks ago, when I caught the neighborhood bobcat on top of the girls’ cage trying to get at her. No wonder she retreated into the coop.

So playing it safe inside, Little Britches was also doing her customary scratching on the coop’s dirt floor. Instead of the previously packed-down floor covered with wood chips, she’d created piles here, divots there, and nice little hollow for dust-bathing.

It’s amazing how one small animal can move around such large quantities of dirt.

So yesterday, I went to the coop to yard Miss Broody off the nest. As usual, there was no sign of Little Britches in the caged pen, so I opened the coop door to lure her out with some feed.

Sighing at the state of the floor—even more dirt piles than the day before—I looked around. There was no other hen in the coop. Only Broody, sitting placidly on the nest box.

I stepped out of the coop and glanced hurriedly around the caged pen. No hen.

How could this be? I had locked the girls into the cage last night. Yet there was no sign of an intrusion. The only openings, if you could call them that, was the 2” x 4” steer wire. There were no feathers strewn around indicating a struggle, no clutch of feathers adjacent to the fence, where the cat could have tried to pull her out.

No blood anywhere.

Clearly, the bobcat had returned and killed Little Britches. But how?

Sick at heart, I hurried to the house and called to John, “The bobcat got another hen!”

We returned to the pen and coop, and searched the perimeter. In the orchard next to the chicken yard was a swathe of gold feathers. She really was gone.

That made 4 of our 5 hens killed since January. Our little flock, decimated.

Hearts heavy, John and I returned to examine the pen and coop. Back in 2017, before our 2^nd flock, he had rebuilt the pen/cage very tightly. Double poultry wire around the bottom of the cage, every tiny gap between the fence and building was reinforced, and the same for the fence around the maple stump. Steer wire covered the enclosure, firmly stapled to the fence frame.

 There was no way the bobcat could have gotten into the cage. But he’d killed our girl nevertheless. For the life of us, we could not see any way Little Britches could have escaped either.

I was haunted by an image of our terrified little hen running and flying around the cage frantically while the bobcat menaced her from above, crawling on top of the steer wire. Going around the cage I checked the wire on one corner at the top of the cage, not far from the feathers.

The wire was slightly loose. Had poor little Miss Britches flown wildly around, desperate to get away, until she hit that loose corner? And being smaller and quicker than the other hens, she’d managed to slip through—to what she thought was safety?

Instead, all signs pointed to the bobcat just leaping down as soon as she was on the ground, and seizing her barely 10 feet from the cage.

You might ask, why don’t we just go hunt down the bobcat and solve the problem?

But this bobcat is just doing what they do—eating to survive. To kill predators upsets the whole wildlife balance—without the larger ones, what will keep the rabbit and rodent populations down?

It’s not the bobcat’s fault either, the changes around our area. We've seen numerous clearcuts the last few years—huge swathes of forests have been cut down just a few miles away. Other woodlands nearby have been cleared for development—all that wildlife habitat reduced. Or eliminated.

Since big cats range over many dozens of square miles, it makes sense that they could be shifting their ranging toward more wild areas. Our property is approximately 8 ½ acres of untouched woodlands, with forested tracts on two sides. Bobcats have likely found a good spot to settle in around here. And with our hens, a food source.

Now Miss Broody is our last hen.

John and I haven’t decided what to do next. Our hens’ cage, which we were so sure was completely safe, turns out not to be. There’s not much more we can do to secure our chicken compound.

And part of me wonders…is it wrong to bring more hens to our place? 

Tips for your Spring Food Garden--Crop Cultivation

Asparagus tip just emerging

If you live in a cool, maritime climate like ours--the Foothills of the Cascade Mountains in the Pacific Northwest--spring gardening season is just getting into gear! 

I mentioned last week that the students in my homestead-style gardening class had lots interesting questions and comments. As promised, here's the second installment of class FAQ's about spring gardening.

It’s a temptation to buy veggie starts as soon as they show up at the garden center or local nursery and put them in the ground as soon as possible. Keep in mind that retailers often keep their starts in a protected area that’s usually warmer than the conditions in your garden.

As a result, your newly planted babies can have difficulties thriving in their new home. The lesson is, when your area is experiencing a very chilly, wet spring, try not to be in too big a hurry to plant!

Here at our house, it's showery and 45 degrees. So I'm in no rush to get more sensitive crops in the ground! Happily, crops like asparagus will grow even in cool weather--just more slowly than warmer years.

More on asparagus, specifically newly planted asparagus crowns: one student was concerned that none of her asparagus had broken ground yet. We planted 10 asparagus crowns last spring, and I noted that the stalks were much slower to show up than the established asparagus.

This second year, the tips of our new crowns didn’t appear until about 10 days after the established crowns showed up. However, the location of the new bed is probably slightly cooler—a little bit further away from the gravel paths that likely bring a bit more heat to nearby garden areas. Which could account for the slower start.

I also suggested that she watch for slugs: we had 4 or 5 new crowns that died the first season, because slugs were eating the tiny stalk heads as soon as they emerged.

Strawberries: It’s a bit late to plant new strawberry crowns—in early spring is more optimal. If you want to have a steady strawberry crop, you might consider planting a bed every year or two. I’ve found that new crowns do better in a fresh bed—not one where you’ve already been growing the berries.

The first summer of the new crowns, remove the flowers as they appear. This way, the plant can put more energy into root growth, rather than fruit production.

Also, keep in mind strawberry plants will bear high quality fruit for only about 3-5 years. They are susceptible to viruses that will deplete the plant over time—after several years, the foliage becomes sparse, and the berries shrink. At our place, our strawberries bear for only 3 years, tops.

Garlic: I’ve found it’s super easy to grow. I plant the cloves (what’s called seed garlic) in November, top dress with lots of leaves and compost, and the tops will emerge in mid-March the following spring.

Garlic in May--it likes lots of mulch!

In early summer, hardneck garlic will send up seed heads, called “scapes,” which can be harvested and eaten. If you don’t eat the scapes, cut them out anyway. They are taking energy away from the garlic heads below ground.

Keep in mind there’s a wait for the heads to fully develop before harvesting. Keep an eye on your garlic early to mid-summer as the lower leaves begin to die back. When 5 leaves are pretty much withered, your crop is probably ready to pick—at our place, that’s the 3^rd week in July.

Onions: You can plant sets, starts or seeds. I am not experienced with growing onions from seed, so I can’t speak to that. But if onion seeds take as long to sprout and get established as tomatoes, I’m guessing you’d need to start your onion seeds indoors, in late winter.

Years ago, John and I began growing onions from “sets.” Sets are small onions that are slightly larger than pearl onions, and are a little more resilient than starts. But a number of years ago, when I started buying my veggie starts locally, I found sets harder to source.

So I began buying onion starts—they’re slender little stalks with very little root mass, so they need cool, very damp soil to survive. Mulch them well, to keep the soil as moist as possible.

I used to plant my onion starts in May, when I sowed my other root crops. But despite deep mulching, these little starts really struggled in the warmer, drier soil of mid-spring. I would end up losing about ¼ of my crop. I changed my planting time to early-mid April, and have had much better success.

Permanent Plantings:

If you’re bringing new perennials, shrubs and trees into your garden, consider waiting to buy them until early fall. Given the extra watering new plants require, it’s harder to establish them in summertime. Plus, if you’re a city dweller, water can be expensive!

We lost 2 new elderberry shrubs that John planted just weeks before our region’s record-breaking heat wave. If waiting until fall to plant doesn't work, the next best option is early spring.

Rocks! If you’re digging garden beds for the first time, depending on your soil, you may also be forced to harvest an unwanted crop: rocks!

One couple in class was frustrated with the quantities of rocks they had to pull from their new planting beds. They already had piles and piles of rocks, and asked, “What do we do with them all?”

Our acreage is located in an area with very rocky, gravelly soil, so I totally sympathize. When we dug our new garden, we too unearthed vast numbers of rocks. I am lucky to have wild areas nearby: I tossed many wheelbarrow loads down the steep slope bordering our yard; I also piled many behind a huge log (a souvenir of the clear-cut) just outside our fence.

And true confessions: While digging new ground our first year, I also piled a single layer of rocks on the south side of our yard, because I didn’t have the energy to cart them off—and they are still there!

I suggested to the couple that if they had room in their yard, they could construct a dry stream bed as kind of landscape feature. Another possible remedy: if nothing else, you can leave the piles for wildlife habitat!

This was the silver lining behind the unsightly pile of rocks I created years ago. Good garden friends--like toads and salamanders that eat bugs--will enjoy the heat. Garter snakes will also live under the rocks and eat mice and voles that would otherwise devour your crops!

 

Easy, Organic Ways to Improve Your Soil!

“Grow a Homestead-Style Food Garden,” the workshop I teach at the local community college, was back in session this week! I had a number of interesting questions and tips from students—particularly on topics that have come up in previous classes.

So I figured there are lots of gardeners out there who might be interested in the same issues as these passionate gardening students!  

We had lots of discussions about how to amend your soil and increase its fertility:

Many folks were planting a garden for the first time at a new home, or their food planting areas were being newly cultivated. One student had plants that hadn’t done well last season, so she had her soil tested. The test indicated it was deficient in a number of essential minerals and nutrients.

To me, homestead-style gardening means generally avoiding chemical fertilizers and soil amendments. So to improve your soil, you can’t go wrong adding organic matter to your planting beds! You might try:

*Leaves or leaf mulch (partially decomposed leaves) 

I use materials that are abundant on our place: bracken fern from the woods, and leaves from our Japanese maple trees. The maples have very small leaves, so they break down more quickly than larger ones. I've found that top dressing with dried bracken fern has improved fertility in all my beds. 

*Grass clippings (from grass not treated with Weed ‘n Feed or moss killer)

*Crop debris like the tops of carrots, parsnips, onion, beet greens, beans and peas, etc. After harvesting, you can put the tops on your planting beds. You can even top dress with weeds you’ve pulled, but make sure there are no seed heads attached!

*Plant peas (shelling, sugar snap or snow peas) or beans. Peas and beans are “nitrogen fixers”—that is, the plants’ roots add nitrogen to the soil.

One student’s food garden consisted of a large container on her deck, filled with store-bought potting dirt. Her small yard and that of her neighbors had no trees or grass, only shrubs and beauty bark. (I’m guessing her HOA didn’t allow compost piles.) As a result, she didn’t have any organic material readily available to add to her soil.

An idea: sow a small crop of peas, which will be ready to harvest in just a couple of months. After harvesting, you can cut up the tops and add to the soil.

*Vitamins from the sea: A newly-retired student moved to an island out in the bay. His property right on the shoreline, so he’s using seaweed to build his soil. You can also buy kelp products.

*Compost: Amend your soil with home-grown compost, or commercial products like “mushroom compost,” which is actually decomposed chicken manure. If you do use store-bought/imported compost, research the product carefully to ensure it doesn’t contain any compounds you don’t want in your garden.

If the compost does contain any manure, which is generally alkaline, keep in mind not all crops thrive with manure-based amendments. One easy rule of thumb: avoid using it for crops like blueberries (which require acidic soil), potatoes (prefer slightly acidic soils) and carrots (which doesn’t grow well in soil amended with manure).

According to “Mini-Farming: Self-Sufficiency on ¼ Acre,” which I featured here last month, if you add compost to your planting beds for 3 years in a row, the soil will develop the minerals and vitamins necessary for food gardening—thus outside inputs won't be necessary.

Also, the author recommended that if your soil is iron-deficient, add nettles to your compost pile as they are high in iron! 

Mulches: one student asked about using straw for weed control on the paths between crop rows. The first few years on our place, I used lots of straw for paths. Then I discovered from the local nursery that straw is not the best option: almost all straw comes from grain crops applied with herbicides.

Also, straw has been dried in a kiln, so it's basically sterile (though some weed seeds do survive—that’s weeds for you!). So as the straw decomposes, it won’t add much organic matter to your soil.

Unless you can source your straw from sustainably grown crops, you might try materials like wood chips (ground-up wood, not beauty bark).

Wood chips in the blueberry patch

Next Week, FAQ’s on Crop Cultivation!