Though my Mother never really planted or tended a garden, her mother (Grandma) always had a beautiful patch. She had a garden for every season, and it escapes my memory what veggies grew in which season, but seems like every day of the year, she went to the garden to fetch something for dinner. And my most fun thing to do, especially in the summer, was to spend a week at Grandmother's house. Whenever she started toward the garden, with basket in hand, my stomach started laughing, because it knew that it wouldn't be long before it would be filling up with something more than delicious that Miss Maud would send its way.

Now, I must admit, I never helped her tend her garden, and she never asked me to. Because I did so much other field work, I never really liked digging in the dirt and hoeing and pulling up grass. Then again, it could have been laziness that made me sit on the porch in the swing while she worked. I would wash the dishes and clean the kitchen, but garden work just wasn't my "thing." And to this day, I still don't like growing anything, not even a potted plant. So, so much for my "green" thumb.

I grew up eating all the vegetables that my Grandmother grew. We seldom ate anything from a can except sardines, mackerel, and occasionallyVienna sausage. The majority of our food was grown or came from what we raised. Actually, to this day, I don't really like anything canned, but living in the city, there aren't that many options for garden-grown produce (except the grocery store or Farmer's Market).

At any rate, Not only did my Grandmother grow some mean vegetables, but she was one heck of a cook. I can still taste her yellow summer squash, fried with what we call "country cow butter" stirred in with garden fresh onions. Now, that's just good, down-home eating and you can't get much better than that.

Let's see if I can remember what all grew in her garden. Okra, butter bean, summer squash, collard, mustard, and turnip greens, turnip roots, cabbage, onion, corn, peppers, beets, tomatoes, cucumbers, green beans, field peas, snap (string) beans, sweet potatoes, and of course, most of our fruits, we bought from surrounding farmers or from grocery stores.

I spent most of the day yesterday putting in my potatoes. Well... half of my taters. I planted two boxes in Yukon Gold as my early crop. Next month I will plant another two boxes in Russets as my main crop.  But before planting them I had to get the boxes ready.

To hold taters I need a double-depth box (2 2x8’s stacked) that I fill half-way with soil. To do this I have bottomless boxes that are used as the second level and are held in place on top of a regular box with pocket hole screws.  These screws can be backed out and the second level moved from box to box as I rotate crops each year.  I mixed 1½ pounds of composted chicken manure into the soil of each box to enrich the soil.

 
Then I used a modified Stout method of planting. The Stout method sows the potatoes on top of the soil then covers them with a thick layer of straw mulch. Regular planting puts them down about 3” then mounds dirt up around the stalks as they grow to keep the tubers covered. I plant my taters an inch or so deep, then 1½" of mulch on top -- as a start. As I plant them, I mark the locations with a craft stick just behind the seed-spud – careful not to stab it!

I planted the box in a checker-board fashion with 8 cells as potato and 8 cells as bush style green beans. I put 1½” of mulch over the potato cells – leaving a dimple over the potato for the shoot to rise through.  No mulch on the beans yet; there are 9 bean seeds per cell, I’ll wait for them to sprout and get a little size to them before mulching to discourage weeds and retain moisture - I don't want to discourage my beans.  As the potato plants get tall (12" or so) , I’ll mound up more mulch around the stalks to keep the tubers that will grow from them covered.  Sunlight makes the taters turn green and toxic. The mulch makes it easy to reach in and pull out young taters as they get to be golf ball sized. The deeper spuds will get large and be harvested later.   

The white grid-like thing is one of two planting guides that I made from PVC pipe fittings; this one helps me plant things 1 or 9 plants to a cell, the other is made to plant 4 or 16 plants per cell (it’s made as 4 quarters, 16 get 4 plants in each quarter – I just eyeball them).  These take care of all the common planting schemes in the square foot gardening method.

My late crop potatoes will be co-planted with black beans. The late crop will be allowed to grow undisturbed for larger spuds, but I’ll use the same planting method.

It rained last night, so I’m off to a good start – as long as the frosts are over with; that would hurt the bean seeds.  Since it is early April now the frosts should be done (here in Tennessee) but… ya just never know these days!

9:00 on Christmas Eve morning. The temperature keeps fluctuating between 30 and 31 degrees, and the sky is overcast with solid grey clouds. I am sitting by the woodstove, surrounded by two contented cats and a mournful looking Golden Retriever. These cold morning outdoor excursions never last quite long enough for energetic pup. He doesn’t seem to understand that his heavy, golden coat can hold a lot more heat than my human skin.

We took a quick stroll out to the garden. The back forty is in full winter dress now, brown and spikey with only a few brave herbs showing any signs of green. Winter is the favorite season of theoretical farmers. We feel absolutely no pressure from the outside world to stop talking and get on with planting. Nobody except the hardcore, year-round gardener is out on bleak mid-winter mornings tilling the soil and planting seeds. The rest of the world joins our contemplative state and is somewhat content to muse over seed catalogues, planting charts and garden journals. For once, we theorists are among the inactive majority. 

The flurry of shopping, baking and wrapping is over for the season. Soon, a different buzz of activity will take over: delivering presents, greeting family and exchanging overflowing plates of sweets with the neighbors. Our little town savors its peaceful state while suffering alongside our northern neighbors as they mourn the irrational loss of a classroom full of children. And yet, we received our own alarms on the last day before break. Our own schoolhouse was watchfully guarded by a collection of uniformed officers. We all seem to hover on the edge of uncertainty while fervently praying for peace on earth. 

The house is quiet with only an occasional mournful sigh circling the air. The pup is not content to simply enjoy the fireside warmth. Perhaps someone with more energy than I will wake up soon and let the poor doggie run outside awhile.  In the meantime, I will avoid his doleful countenance and move a little closer to the heat.

Fall has come to the Shenandoah Valley in full force. We seem to have bypassed any type of Indian Summer and temperatures have settled in at around 45 degrees by day and down to 30 at night. Delicate plants such as basil and green peppers have turned black and limp from frost while the more hearty herbs like rosemary and thyme are still thriving. I think the Last Rose of Summer fell apart into brown-edged petals yesterday. It was still clinging bravely to the vine when I left to go grocery shopping. By the time I returned home, the wind had dislodged it and all that was left on the vine was the center of the flower, looking frail and rather pathetic in the watery su

I love the change of seasons, and it suits me just fine that summer chose to exit without lingering goodbyes. Still, I still feel the need to play in the dirt a bit. I’m not quite ready to give up gardening yet. I talked to a seasoned farmer at church this morning and asked him if I could grow anything now. He was rather cryptic in his answer. “Yeah, there are lots of things you can grow now.” I waited for him to continue but he had stopped talking and was obviously not going to enlighten me on the bounty of late fall growing. I prodded a bit further and asked if I could plant onions. “No,” he said, shaking his head solemnly, “you don’t want to plant onions now. They will freeze in the ground.” What about carrots, I continued. “Not so sure. Maybe.” Such was the extent of my interview. Perhaps I shall just resort to Google.

Or more likely I will create a lush winter garden inside my head. After all, I am a theoretical farmer still and there is no pressure to  have anything to show for my intensive labors of the mind!

Hello and greetings to all Grit readers--I'm a relatively new gardener--this is my second year--and I'll be writing each week or so about my experiences, education, and ongoing projects in the gardening field. I've always been a DIY type and I decided to pursue a vegetable garden due to the quality of vegetables available in the supermarket. Additionally, I have no faith in the USDA to protect the food supply, and I wanted organic food.

Last year, I began by buying organic seeds--cucumbers--and using large clay pots to grow them in. I also made a box from wood and grew parsley. Tomatoes were grown in five gallon plastic buckets. My fertilizer was obtained from an ag student I know who has been of considerable help. Considering that this was my first effort, I had some good fortune. The tomatoes, which were of a plum variety, produced relatively well, although I did have some blossom end rot due to a lack of calcium. I learned this later after researching it online. But I had a good enough harvest to can seven quarts.

The cucumbers also had positives and negatives. The harvest was good--I had lots to give away and to eat, but some of the plants died due to the wilt caused by cucumber beetles. I noticed a beetle one day but did not realize what it was. Shortly thereafter, some of the plants became sick and died. Again, I researched the matter online and learned about wilt--most of my help has come from the Ohio State and Penn State extensions, and from Colorado State as well.

Last fall I decided to make a garden using raised beds and terraces. Wood frames formed the boundaries of my 300 square foot garden and I also made a terrace as the ground slopes sharply away from the southern sun. A good deal of excavating, leveling, and filling in was required. The soil was made from store-bought topsoil, sand, peat moss, and clay. Mixing these elements was done by hand and using a rototiller.

One of my last zucchinis  

This year after studying both online and in The Vegetable Gardener's Bible, by Edward C. Smith, I planted cucumbers, zucchinis, mizuna, lettuce, pole beans, broccoli, beets, peppers, tomatoes, parsley, basil, and cilantro. My seeds were ordered from High Mowing--the tomatoes and peppers were started for me. Fertilizer was made by mixing lime, potash, and phosphorus, available organically at ag and garden supply stores. I also had some fish emulsion.

The tomatoes, which were of the Rutgers variety, were doing will and had been producing fruit, when at one point I noticed that the individual tomatoes had orange spots in a circular, mosaic-like pattern. The leaves had lost their rich green color, and had numerous small black spots. Research at the Colorado State extension indicated that my plants were infected with spotted leaf wilt, caused by a virus vectored to the plant by the thrip, a tiny insect barely visible to the naked eye. Something else I'd never known about! There is no treatment once infection has taken hold. I had to pull up and discard all eight plants.

On the positive side, I had researched cucumber wilt and learned that radishes, planted with cucumbers, can deter cucumber beetles. Planting numerous radishes resulted in no infestation and a substantial harvest.

My other plants produced well. Above, peppers are still growing at the end of the season. I had a large number of zucchinis, a good number of beets, and my pole beans are still producing as well. My broccoli harvest was quite small--I'll research this. All in all, I believe I had a good season--I've learned how little I know, but I do know that:

Soil and amendments are crucial.
Examine the garden daily, and look for pests and signs of disease. Weed regularly.
Water regularly and carefully, and keep aware of rainfall and weather patterns.
Know each plant's needs.
Use a notebook to keep records of all you do, and use a camera.
Study and ask for advice.
Plan ahead.

When I first got into Mulefoot pigs a friend recommended that I ring their snouts or risk ruining my pastures. I decided to forego the ringing and use the pigs to plow up new growing spaces. Take a look at a pig and watch it root -- you'll no doubt agree that their snouts look and act very much like chisel plow shanks as they tear up vegetation, turn the soil and eat all the grass roots, weed roots and grubs they can find. One day, while watching them root, it occurred to me that using pigs as plows would be a great way to break a little sod, get rid of the pesky grass and fertilize the ground in preparation for planting gardens, small fields of small grains and even mangle beets -- that the pigs would happily harvest themselves come fall.

So when I laid out the pigs' wooded pen, I fenced in a dogleg of fine Kansas sod that would one day make a great place to grow corn, wheat and forages that would support the pigs themselves, such as the giant mangle beets whose tops are every bit as palatable as their 20-pound roots. My ancestors used pig-harvested corn and mangles to help make the bacon, so I figured why not try it for myself. Last weekend I fenced the pigs out of the dogleg and planted some crops that will soon support my efforts in the kitchen and that the pigs will also enjoy.

Mulefoot pigs are most definitely not the other white meat. They are a heritage breed and they prefer to live outdoors -- which is where they thrive -- not in confinement. They have loins that are too short and far too much body fat for the modern hog industry. But these animals know how to look after themselves and are awesome when used to plow up ground for planting.

Mulefoot pigs don't like getting shocked so they learn to respect smooth wire electric fencing in a heartbeat. Mothers teach their youngsters -- and most pigs only get zapped once. In spite of that, since the pigs formerly had direct access to this planting area, I fenced it off from the main woodland pen with two strands of electric (perimeter shown in foreground has 3 strands) wire -- one at 6 inches and the other 15 inches from the ground.

I used my favorite cultivating tool, the Hoss Tools  wheel hoe to loosen the soil and make the growing patch more or less fit for planting. I took this opportunity to remove the few large chunks of limestone the pigs unearthed. To the east of me (in the background) the farm falls off in what can be described as a grass-covered limestone scree slope as it transitions to the 110 Mile Creek drainage.

My relatively new Cole Planet Jr. plate planter is one of my favorite walk-behind planters. I used two different plates last weekend. One for the mangel beets and one for the Mandan Bride flour corn.

We've used pigs to plow up smaller planting patches and plan to use them for a future small-grain field. I'll let you know how the experiment works out this year. Stay Tuned.

Photos Courtesy Karen Keb.

Well, I am now dug up. Not that I personally have been buried -- except under mountains of paperwork and random stuff undone. But that patch of lawn in my backyard that I've been glaring at for a year -- OK, nearly two years -- wishing without action that it would become a flower garden, has now been tilled. As you can see, something was needed: 
 

My plan isn't for a lot of edibles this year, except for herbs. I don't have time or energy for much maintenance, so I am going to broadcast  flower seeds madly and hope for much color -- though I'll broadcast in a somewhat orderly fashion, now that I've learned the pollinators are better served by groupings of color. This weekend the weather took a turn to the warm, Barney the Lawn Guy had a few hours to dedicate to my list, and off we went.

Because I live in a fairly new residential area where the soil has been scraped and rearranged to suit the builders rather than the green, growing things, I needed to add some amendments. So I went out and bought bags of top soil -- I know, I know: People GIVE that stuff away. This was easy, and remember, this is to be the lazy person's garden -- and I wanted to get it started. A few bags of Miracle Gro for Vegetables went in the mix, along with three bags of Moonure. I'm certain you can guess the active ingredient on that one.

After Barney had tilled the 4-foot strip around the fence and worked in the topsoil and compost, it didn't take my little pup long at all to notice that something had changed in the backyard.  

And from that realization, it didn't take but another three seconds for him to drop down and start rolling in it. Although he looks like a Teddy bear, in significant ways, CP is all-dog, all the time. One of these ways is his deep affection for getting up close and personal with the stinky and the icky.

 So now, there's a new game at my house, called Let CP Out Long Enough to Do His Business But Not Long Enough to Start Rolling. So far CP is winning large.

 Here's me with serious hat-hair, having perspired and dog-wrangled for a couple of hours. My plan is to fill that gnarly space behind me with lots of sunflowers, coneflowers, rudebekia and varoius balms -- plus, of course, a couple of tomato plants, basil and other culinary herbs just because one must. I hope the bees and butterflies like it because this season, it's all about the pollinators. And I hope I don't end up strangling my Cutie Patootie puppy before the summer is over.

Stay tuned ...

Our Tiny House will sit on the unofficially named Tiny Lane. There we will raise Tiny Goats and this year, have a Tiny Farm.

Unlike last year, we simply aren't ready to have multiple gardens full of organic produce and fruits. We will have to exchange the size of our 'salad bowl,' if you will, for something a bit more fitting for where we are in the move from Georgia to North Carolina. This minor setback (and I use the term setback very loosely) didn't mean we couldn't still have as much fun perusing through seed catalogues, mildly discussing exotic produce, and dreaming about the organic edibles we would one day enjoy from our own land.

So last week - at separate times, unfortunately - Crystal and I both spent time flipping page after page, comparing items from last in regards to growth success, growth potential, overall energy consumed to grow, and overall taste. With a wonderful cup of rasberry-peach tea on my desk in front of me I saw down and began with perhaps my favorite catalogue; Baker Creek Heirloom Seeds.

We still have a few seeds left from last year that are still quite viable including some cabbage, a bit of Carrot Chantenay Red Core, Lettuce Val d'Orges, and Cauliflower. While I had originally thought of giving them away in a contest, I have decided to save them and use them as a great way to begin some leafy greens anywhere I can find dirt worth sowing in.

Because we are limited on ready space this year we have talked about doubling our efforts by growing potatoes at Crystal's mom's house and even trying some sweet corn in the back field of her grandmother's place. Last year we we tried corn and had really mixed results. We had a case of ear whigs and many of ears came in small and lacking kernels. We're willing to try again though as it was our first time and we're bound to do better in a corn hotbed like the sandy soils of North Carolina.

We're definitely looking forward to doubling the size of our onion beds this year. Last year we harvested just at 124 onions and while they lasted up until mid-November we would love to have a supply that would take us into late-February or so. While the desire is there we are still trying to figure where we would get that size space for such an onion supply. We may have to resort to a bit of gonzo gardening and just plant bulbs all around being careful to remember when we have things growing.

I think the main focus this year though is going to be our beans and cukes. We serve early peas, snap beans, and bush beans all year round and while our cucumbers have done really well each year we can't seem to get enough to both eat and pickle. Crystal loves a good dill pickle and so we look to raise up cuke plants in every available vertical spot we can muster.

So what about you? Have you begun planning and ordering yet? If so, what is your favorite company to order from? Are you growing anything new and original? What are your old standbys that get planted year after year? As always if you like this post be sure to share it on Facebook or send the link out on Twitter. We appreciate you also taking the time to read the r(E)volution and be a part of the conversation! 

I know going into winter the last thing you may be thinking about is compost, however, as you begin ordering seeds for the next season if you don't already compost you should consider doing so. You can create beautiful, rich soil right in your own backyard with little effort. Anyone can start a compost pile, regardless of the size of your property. I love the fact that I can recycle our table scraps, although the chickens get the first pick.

When we first purchased our 146 year old farmhouse it was in the month of June. The growing season was already well underway. I walked out to the plot the previous owner had obviously used for a garden. All I could smell was chicken poop. He also had chickens and I believe he simply added the manure to the dirt. My mom helped me with a few plantings, but not surprisingly they didn't do well at all.

By year two the dirt and manure had matured. I tilled it to improve the quality. Year three I added above ground planting boxes and purchased compost from a local farm to fill them. This was much better. I also decided to add my own compost bins enabling me to continue to top layer my beds.

While shopping at a local home improvement store we came across a great sale on their plastic compost bins and purchased two at my husband's urging (probably so he could cross an item off his "honey do" list without technically making it – a win-win for both of us).

I started out thinking that I would follow the layer system for compost. I quickly forgot about the layer system in the busy-ness of everyday life and just kept adding whatever I had on hand to the piles. Here's what I can tell you from my first year of compost: it will break down eventually, however it will break down much quicker if you layer properly. I had to wait just over a year to use that first year's beautiful soil and I still had to pick out items that hadn't yet composted.

First, you'll want to decide on a compost bin. Will it be an open or a closed-bin system? With a closed-bin (the system we have) you can keep the rodents out, however, if you layer properly this shouldn't be a large problem. I arrived home one day to see my neighbors enormous dog rooting around mine, attempting to get in. After shooing him away I decided that I need to add my brown layer immediately after adding any table scraps. Once I started doing that he never visited me, at least for that purpose, again.

Next, will you build it or buy it? If you find a great sale, as we did, it's worth the purchase. Otherwise, there are a number of materials you can use to build one – fencing, wood, bales of straw, etc. You could even use trash cans after punching holes in the sides and bottom for aeration and worms. Just remember to steer clear of pressure treated, especially the older pressure treated wood, so you aren't adding chemicals to your soil.

We decided on 2 bins, although many people go with 3. I add to one bin, layering and turning, and when that bin is fairly full I begin adding to the second. Also, if I have a surplus of one layer (green or brown) I can put it in the second bin so it doesn't go to waste. Once you've got your layering system down you'll turn from time-to-time, add a little water, a little soil here and there and before you know it you'll have wonderful, rich soil.

There are 2 types of layers: "green" and "brown".

• The "green" layer consists of things such as: coffee grounds, tea leaves, fruit and vegetable waste, seaweed, recent "live" things such as weeds, green leaves, grass, flowers and plants. Careful not to add diseased plants. I found it necessary to purchase a countertop compost bucket (photo below). You can make one out of just about anything or purchase one with a filter to keep it from smelling up the kitchen. I empty mine every 3 to 5 days. Additionally, if I have food waste and my compost bins are full I keep a gallon size freezer bag in the freezer to add to. Once I'm ready to add "greens" again I just dump them in. Freezing is also beneficial at starting the process of breaking the items down. It's kind of like a head start.

• The "brown" layer consists of things such as: straw, hay, shredded paper, wood chips, sawdust, wood ash, fall leaves and any dry or dead plant materials. This layer helps give the compost pile aeration, speeding up the decomposition. I add the wood chips from the chicken coop which have the manure mixed in for an activator. Bone meal can be used for activation if manure is not available to you.

Try to cut all materials down prior to adding. This will help speed up the process. I cut food waste up, crush my egg shells, etc.

Troubleshooting: If your compost pile is smelly or has been over watered, add browns for aeration. If it's not heating up at all it may be too dry. If you have materials that just won't break down you may need to add water and/or nitrogen-rich materials.

With a little trial and error you'll have beautiful soil to use in your beds. Happy composting!

The Kansas Forest Service brochure for tree and shrub seedlings arrived in the mail yesterday.  The form notes that the special pricing on these trees is available to anyone willing to plant them for conservation purposes … not for landscaping or nursery purposes. That seems fair to me, especially since I believe in hedgerows and shelterbelts. Last year I planted some 200 Forest Service tree and shrub seedlings  … this year I am tempted to put in another shelterbelt … using this program, I can plant 100 trees for less than $70.

 

Shelterbelts became popular in the Great Plains and Midwest as a result of several land rushes. My great grandfather, Oscar H. Will, and his son George, capitalized on the need to shelter fields and pastures from the wind, and to populate tree claims with timber by supplying millions of Cottonwood, Ash, Boxelder and other seedlings to homesteaders, farmers, the railroad and various municipalities. Those early shelterbelts were created with seedlings that sprouted freely along the banks, and on the sandbars, of the Missouri River north of Bismarck, North Dakota (Dakota Territory initially). Oscar, and later, George put together crews of young men to pull dormant seedlings, bundle them and float them down the Missouri River to Bismarck in flatboats. Some collecting crews ranged as far as the upper reaches of the Missouri, deep into Montana.

 

Shelterbelts save money by reducing convective heat loss from buildings and providing shade. They also filter dust from the breeze, which substantially lowers summertime home maintenance expenses. Shelterbelts reduce livestock feed costs in all seasons because they protect animals from exposure to extreme weather, and they protect tender crops and gardens from the ravages of hot dry winds.

 

When Kate and I built our first farm in South Dakota, we planted more than 2000 feet of 5-row shelterbelt to protect the building and garden sites from cold north and west winds. More than 90 percent of the seedlings survived the first season. The Soil Conservation Service (as it was called in the early1990s) required that we cultivate the ground bare between the tree rows for at least three years after planting. That we did, and today those Ash, Locust, Blue Spruce, Russian Olive, Manchurian Apricot, Nanking Cherry and Lilacs have achieved a height and density that gives the homestead’s current owners plenty of privacy and wind protection. The fact that the tree planting created a few acres of wildlife habitat is an added bonus.

 

Unless you already live in the woods, you can save some money on your heating, cooling and snowplowing bill by planting a shelterbelt. Ideally, the shelterbelt should consist of a minimum of 5 rows of trees and shrubs situated around 150 feet from any buildings in the protected area. Check the USDA’s website for more information on designing a functional shelterbelt. And as Kate would say: “No time like today to get those trees in the ground.” Well, perhaps not today, but today is a good day to plan for your shelterbelt and to order the trees.
 

 The numbers are in for 2008 and they look good for the seed industry. They look even better for folks who want to grow vegetables from seed and save money in 2009.

By some estimates, garden seed, especially vegetable seed sales, were up by anywhere from 40 percent to well over 100 percent compared with recent years. In fact, some industry watchdog organizations suggest that seed companies in North America and much of Europe experienced their best year ever in 2008. We’re talking record seed sales … AND they project another record for 2009.

So, what is the fuss all about?

Easy, people are looking for a safer food supply, while adapting to a tighter economic outlook. If you have never grown a vegetable garden, or started your own garden plants, there’s still plenty of time to save money in 2009 by growing your vegetables from seed. If you are like me, you will be amazed, and thrilled, by all the different varieties of vegetable species from which to choose. If you are looking for that little early-maturing tomato called Bison from your youth, you can find seed and save money by growing your own in 2009.

 

Even the American government recognized the value that a garden-growing public could offer to a war-embroiled and slow economy. They no doubt also recognized the community building value in making it easy for folks to grow with one another in the garden patch. At those times, it was much more important to feed the folks at home and share the excess with others than to worry about E. coli-infested spinach … oh, that’s right, we hadn’t pushed our agricultural production models so far, back then, that E. coli and other fairly benign microbes had yet to figure out how to be pathogenic.

Our government called those programs War Gardens during World War I and Victory Gardens during World War II. I don’t know what to call the new wave of gardening frenzy, but I do know that it is exciting, and will, no doubt, play a role in healing our culture.

When you consider that a package of tomato seed might set you back a couple of bucks, and that you might get 50 viable seeds in that pack, it doesn’t take much math to figure out that you can grow hundreds of pounds of tomato fruit from that $2 pack of seeds. Even if you factor in the value of a little labor (it can be hand labor, mind you), a small piece of ground, a source of supplemental water and a few miscellaneous supplies, those tomatoes will be cheaper than cheap. But more importantly, the growing, nurturing, eating and processing will pay that elusive dividend of extreme satisfaction; no amount of store-bought or farm-stand-bought tomatoes CAN EVER bring that. Farm-stand tomatoes, when grown locally, do have added value in the dividend department, because at least you are supporting the local economy at its root level.

 

Add the pleasure you will receive from spending time AT HOME and WITH FRIENDS and LOVED ONES working in, marveling at, and generally enjoying your garden, and those tomatoes pay even more. And if you happen to have an extra-giant bounty, think of the joy those tomatoes will bring as you share them with others in need … or sell to pay for that tank of propane when winter arrives.

The way I see it, if the pleasure from that $2 pack of tomato seed replaced the pleasure of just one latte at the local coffee shop and the fuel needed to drive there and back, you are at least $10 ahead. That’s right, folks, vegetable gardens can pay big time if you only let them.

If you are skeptical of my analysis, check out Paul Gardener’s personal blog and follow his annual fresh food tally. He and his family produce a significant dollar-value of crops in minimal growing space. And they don’t factor the weight of family fun, joy, etc., into the formula to inflate those numbers.

Look for all kinds of gardening resources on this website and at Mother Earth News for everything you need to know about how to prepare for and plant a vegetable garden from seed that will save you money in 2009.

Early last week, while walking with the dogs through our various patches of woods, Kate noticed a large number of tree saplings and seedlings in the under story. She also noticed a number of small Eastern Red Cedar trees and a few isolated Osage orange saplings growing out in the meadows. Her question to me on New Year’s Day was whether we oughtn’t just save on our landscaping budget this year by transplanting the free trees that were provided all over the farm by Mother Nature.

I was all for Kate’s idea, I mean who doesn’t want to save money in 2009.

Years ago, in South Dakota, when we were just starting out we had very little in the way of discretionary funds. We also had a bare piece of ground to build our homestead on … it was a lovely piece, with a creek running through it, but it was treeless, except for the massive Cottonwoods that populated the low end of the pasture and one lone Green Ash that grew up through the old windmill tower, its roots reaching clear down to the water level in the old dug well.

Closer inspection of that piece of ground revealed a Cottonwood tree seedling nursery at the confluence of one of our waterways and the creek. With a strong need to get some large trees going quickly and to stabilize the creek bank to the west of the house, Kate and I spent many early spring days over the course of a few years digging cottonwood seedlings and saplings from our natural nursery (some about 10 feet tall) and transplanting them about a half mile away by the house. Those free trees are more than 50 feet tall today … they help protect the house from wind and they stabilized the creek bank.

Last Saturday, Kate and I identified a few small oak and Osage orange saplings to transplant. These free trees all had substantial taproots (which got shortened considerably) so the digging wasn’t as easy as if they were year old seedlings. Transplanting the free trees was really easy once they were dug, however. And since they are perfectly dormant, and will remain so for the next few months, they should have plenty of time to establish sufficient root mass to support themselves (with some nurturing) in 2009.

The trick to transplanting free trees is to dig them while they are dormant. A little extra effort with the digging to get as much root as possible will pay a large dividend. Keep the roots moist until you get the trees planted in their new location. Water the trees as you backfill the planting hole and be prepared to give them plenty of water as they come back to life in the spring.

Transplanting free trees isn’t the only way to save money in 2009. We plan to make and root cuttings of the lone Cottonwood on our place … and our corkscrew Willow too. We also plan to collect a few bucketfuls of Osage orange fruit and plant the seeds.

I will report on these Save Money in 2009 topics and plenty of others right here. Stay tuned.

Somewhere around six weeks ago, Kate called me at work to let me know she had purchased five large Black Hills Spruce trees at a local nursery. She noted that they were too big to fit into her Subaru Outback. I was assigned the duty of picking them up on my way home from work … oh joy, I thought.

Since we had already planted a couple hundred trees and shrubs early in the spring, I wasn’t thrilled to have a bunch of big container trees to plant, but I dutifully picked them up … each weighed about 250 pounds. It wasn’t that easy to get them into the bed of the old IH pickup, but I managed. The thought of digging those five big holes made me weary.

I dropped the spruce trees next to the corral by the stock tank so I wouldn’t forget to keep them watered. I finally found the motivation to put them in the ground yesterday.

As with virtually any chore around the farm, the tree planting went much easier than I expected. Since the root balls were relatively large, I chose the shovel with the Dig Rig attachment on it to make the holes. The Dig Rig is an affordable attachment that increases the shovel’s capacity while providing a comfortable step … it reduces stress on your feet, knee, leg and back. I had used the Dig Rig equipped shovel to dig potatoes and plant a few perennials over the summer, but it really made a difference with digging the five large holes for the spruce trees. I didn’t make the holes as large as the arborists typically recommend, but our soil was mellow and moist, so I figured the trees would settle in with no problem.

After planting the end trees, which I am pretty sure are Norway spruces not Black Hills, I paced off the total distance, did some quick math and determined that the other trees (two Black Hills spruce and one Colorado blue spruce) needed to be planted at 6-pace intervals. One by one, the trees went into the ground (along with a 5-gallon bucket of water) like clockwork.

Years ago at our place in South Dakota, Kate and I planted about 50 Colorado blue spruce of similar size, along with about 1,000 seedlings. The seedlings are now about 8 feet tall … the 50 big ones are closer to 15 feet tall. We will be pushing 70 years of age by the time these trees get that large, but as Kate always says, “You plant trees for the next generation.” Hopefully the next generation will enjoy these spruces as much as we do.