Last fall Susan and I were roaming Old Montreal when we discovered several artichokes plants alive and thriving. I couldn’t believe it. So I did a little research.
Lo and behold, I discovered that the Imperial Star hybrid is able to grow and produce as an annual even this far north. So, in addition to the Cuore Di Bue tomatoes, Imperial Star artichoke are on my “Must Plant” list for summer 2011.
Burpee offers the seeds, so I’ve just placed the order. Here’s how they describe Imperial star artichokes:
“Grow your own artichokes and enjoy the large, edible flower buds at their prime. Attractive plants with grey-green foliage grow 4′ tall with a similar spread.Grows best in full sun. Produces buds the first year. High yields of sweet, mild tasting flower buds, 4-1/2″ in diameter, which are very slow to open when mature.”
Starting next month I’ll be germinating my first ever homegrown artichokes to be propagated this summer in Rosslyn’s vegetable garden. Optimism abounds!
I’ve started ordering seeds for my vegetable garden this summer, and Cuore di Bue Tomato (aka Coeur de Boeuf or Oxheart) is new to me. I tasted these tomatoes grown in a friend’s garden and decided to add Cuore di Bue to my “Must Plant” list.
“This curious and striking tomato is guaranteed to turn heads as well as satisfy appetites. Its name is simply Italian for oxheart, although this selection (Riviera) is an exotic twist on the oxheart tomato type. These big tomatoes have a bottom-heavy shape reminiscent of a pouch with a gathered top. They measure 3 1/2 inches wide and 4 inches long and weigh in just under 1/2 pound each. Cuore di Bue is one of the tastiest saucing types with dense flesh and lustrous, orangey-red skin.”
Can’t wait to plant, harvest and eat, eat, eat these Cuore di Bue tomatoes!
Why are my cucumbers orange? They’re turning yellow-orange, to be precise…
This summer we have enjoyed more productive cucumber plants than ever before, but recently the enormous fruit are discoloring from green to yellow to orange before we can eat them. Here’s the reason why.
Cucumbers turn orange when they grow excessively ripe before harvesting, explains Veggie Gardener. The cucumbers first turn yellow, and if left on the vine, they quickly develop a vibrant orange hue. This happens because chlorophyll levels decrease past the point of peak ripeness… [They become] very bitter and unsuitable for human consumption. (Source: Ask.com)
Bitter. It’s true. I taste tested just to make sure they were no longer suitable for human consumption. They aren’t, though our caretaker assured us that his wife can still turn them into pickles. I encouraged him to take all he could haul!
Our yellow and/or orange cucumbers are an unfortunate result of the extended heat wave and drought we’ve been enduring. It’s true we may have overplanted. But our beautiful cukes growing, greening, and spoiling before our eyes is heartbreaking. What to do?
The only way to prevent cucumbers from turning yellow and orange is to harvest them at the proper time. Ripe cucumbers have firm flesh with a medium-green rind and feel heavy for their size. Most varieties ripen between 50 and 70 days after planting. Size is also an important indicator of ripeness. Each cucumber variety has a different optimal size and quickly develops a bitter flavor if allowed to grow larger. Some cucumbers, such as those used for pickling, are naturally smaller than other varieties. Consequently, gardeners must know what type of cucumber they have planted and the target size for ripe specimens in that category. The most common cause of orange and yellow cucumbers is over-ripening, but the discoloration is sometimes a symptom of the Cucumber Mosaic Virus. According to Gardening Know How, the Mosaic Virus produces soft, mushy cucumbers with mottled patches and curled, withered leaves. This incurable virus also affects peppers. When a cucumber displays symptoms of the Mosaic Virus, the best course of action is to remove it from the garden. (Source: Ask.com)
The good news is that we don’t have Cucumber Mosaic Virus. But the bad news is that our compost is becoming overwhelmed with yellow and orange cucumbers. Perhaps we should redistribute these technicolor cukes to our wild neighbors for their enjoyment? (See Woodchucks & Cucumbers!)
On this technicolor Tuesday I present to you one of our flashiest May garden treats, French Breakfast Radishes.
French Breakfast Radishes: The peppery-but-sweet taste of spring.
Field and forrest foraged veggies — like stinging nettles, wild ramps, and fiddleheads — are nature’s charitable reminder that winter has once again yielded to spring. Then our vegetable gardens begin to awaken with asparagus and spinach that spoil our palates with succulent, vitamin packed hints of warmer days.
Radishes (my favorite are French Breakfast Radishes) celebrate precocious summer’s spicy return with vibrant, bye-bye-mud-season colors, a super satisfying crunch, and tastebud reviving explosions of peppery sweetness.
French Breakfast Radishes: The peppery-but-sweet taste of spring.
And radishes aren’t just crunchy eye candy for the crudités. Radishes are nutritious. Especially the radish greens!
My ever-curious, ever-creative, ever experimenting mother introduced me to cooked radish greens a year or two ago, and I’ve been a fan ever since.
French Breakfast Radish Greens: Don’t compost this nutritious spring green!
Radish Greens Recipe
This evening’s sautéed radish greens were prepared by my bride, a far more gifted cook than she willingly admits. I pulled about nine large French Breakfast radishes from the garden, scrubbed them up and separated the bulbs from the best greens. The second and third photographs above show you what my wife inherited.
Preparing sautéed radish greens is quick, easy, and delicious. I’ll offer you the steps I offered my bride, but duplicating the perfectly peppery and garlicky side dish she served is up to you.
Clean radish greens and soak in cold water
Lightly chop greens and remove any “woody” stems
Heat olive oil in a sauté pan
Crush 1-2 garlic cloves; add to olive oil
Brown the garlic and add radish greens
Stir gently with a splash of white wine
Add balsamic vinegar and/or soy sauce
Salt and pepper to taste
My bride chopped and sautéed a yellow bell pepper with the radish greens which added a subtly caramelized nuance (and intriguing texture variety) to the radish greens. It was delicious!
Radishes (and Radish Greens) are Nutritious
[Note: I won’t pretend to be an expert in matters nutritional, especially when it comes to Raphanus sativus. But I’ve stumbled upon an inspiring article from Full Circle that helps fills in some gaps. I’ve excerpted some of the best below.]
As a cruciferous vegetable like broccoli, radishes have a host of health benefits but are typically under-appreciated… However, for both their health benefits and amazing array of flavors radishes top our list of foods to start paying more attention to and eating on a daily basis… here are nine reasons to “eat your radishes!”
Naturally cooling Radishes are… highly regarded in eastern medicine for the ability to decrease excess heat in the body…
Sooth sore throats [Radishes] can help eliminate excess mucus in the body and… help clear the sinuses and soothe soar throats too.
Aids digestion Radishes are a natural cleansing agent for the digestive system…
Prevents viral infections … regular consumption of radishes can help prevent viral infections.
Eliminates toxins [Radishes] break down and eliminate toxins and cancer-causing free radicals in the body.
Protects against cancer … radishes contain phytonutrients, fiber, vitamins and minerals that are cancer protecting.
Relieves indigestion Radishes… can help relieve bloating and indigestion.
Low in calories, high in nutrients [At] less than 20 calories in an entire cup, radishes are a great way to add nutrients, fiber and tons of flavor to your meals…
Keeps you hydrated With a high water content and lots of vitamin C as well as phosphorus and zinc, radishes… can help keep your body hydrated… (Source: Full Circle)
Cooked Radishes
I’ve been hearing more and more about cooked radishes. Not radish greens. Radishes. So far I haven’t tried grilling or roasting radishes. Have you? I’m looking for advice…
It’s time for a follow-up to my Organic Orcharding post, specifically a detailed look at how to use Tanglefoot for non-toxic pest control in a holistic fruit tree orchard. For readers wondering about zone compatibility and looking for a regional reference to help you evaluate the relevance of this post to your individual growing conditions, our orchard is located in Essex, New York along the Adirondack Coast of the Champlain Valley. We are purists when it comes to holistic orcharding and gardening (despite challenges unique to growing fruits and vegetables in the North Country) and we have come to rely on Tanglefoot summer after summer. (You may also want to check out my post, “How to Apply Tanglefoot to Trees“ for a simple, straightforward how-to video. Your holistic orchard will thank you in abundance!)
Pre-Goo & Post-Goo
Here’s a glimpse at the first two phases of Tanglefoot installation, documented in Rosslyn’s 100% organic orchard. This first photo was taken just before the sticky goo was lathered onto the corrugated paper.
Tanglefoot Installation: wrap trunk with corrugated paper (Source: Geo Davis)
So tidy, right? Not for long! Here’s what it looks like after the sticky Tanglefoot is installed.
Tanglefoot Installation: lather ultra gooey Tanglefoot on the corrugated paper wrapped around tree trunk. (Source: Geo Davis)
Yuck! Hopefully the noisome critters that like to climb up the trunks of fruit trees agree.
It’s a messy installation process, but it seems to work pretty well.
How to Use Tanglefoot
I’ll prologue the most important part of this post by saying two things:
Applying Tanglefoot to fruit trees a messy but relatively straightforward task.
Better instructors have already explained application, so I’ll defer to their able guidance rather than overlook something important.
One of the best step-by-step Tanglefoot installation videos was made by San Diego master gardeners Carol Graham (unfortunately no longer available online). Similarly thorough written instructions are provided by the products’s manufacturer, Contech-Inc:
We recommend using 4” wide wrap of waterproof paper or tape on the trunk of the tree and applying Tree Tanglefoot over the wrap. Tree Tanglefoot is oil-based and the oils will soak into the bark. Banding material eliminates staining of the tree and offers quick, complete removal of the sticky material. In addition, Tree Tanglefoot will remain sticky longer when applied on top of a surface resistant to oil. For rough bark trees it may be necessary to plug the gaps between the tree trunk and the banding, this can be done by using insulation or other materials.
Apply Tree Tanglefoot Insect barrier in a uniform fashion. It can be applied in a heavy or light coat. Heavy coats are approximately 3” wide and 3/32” thick. A heavy coat is used when the insects to kept from the tree foliage are large or numerous, or when there is little time available to maintain the band. Light coats are 3” wide and 1/16” thick. A light coat is good as a general barrier against smaller or less numerous insects, or when the band can be maintained regularly.
Generally, Tree Tanglefoot will remain sticky and effective until it is covered with insects, dust or other debris. A build-up of debris or insects will create a bridge for other insect to cross. This debris requires removal and possible re-application in spots. If an area is unusually dusty or the surface of the barrier is stiffened, Tree Tanglefoot can be rubbed around to expose a new sticky layer beneath. Remove bands at end of season. (Source: Tree Tanglefoot Insect Barrier Products – Contech Inc)
Still a little uncertain? (Or just procrastinating to avoid making a gooey-sticky mess?) Here’s another resource I’ve also relied upon for amazing step-by-step Tanglefoot guide with photographs. Here are the simple, straightforward instructions.
Using a putty knife or a cake decorating spatula. If you choose a putty knife be very careful with the edges and corners as they are very sharp and can easily damage the bark of the tree. I recommend using a cake decorating spatula because they have rounded edges at the tip.
1. Wrap your tree in plastic film
2. Soften up a glob of Tanglefoot with the spatula
3. Work it into a smooth lump without strings back to the bucket
4. Apply the product in a thin 1″ wide band a few inches from the top of the plastic all the way around the tree creating a complete circle
5. Drag your spatula in the same direction that you wrapped the tree with the plastic. If you go the other way you’ll just pull the plastic right off
6.Make another band of Tanglefoot a few inches down from the first band. This creates 2 barriers that work together to stop the pests from walking up your tree (Source: How to Use Tanglefoot – Backyard Food Growing)
I use the paper “tape” version and have not yet tried the plastic film, but I’m intrigued. However this post made me wary.
I got some Tanglefoot this year for my apple trees, had a lot of problems with ants last year. I tried attaching bands of saran wrap around the tree trunks and applying the Tanglefoot that way. That was a complete disaster/mess, so I called the Tanglefoot manufacturer and asked if it would harm my trees to apply their product directly to the bark. They said that other than a dark ring/stain around the tree, no, it should not harm the tree at all to be directly applied. So, that is what I did. Did it about a month ago. No signs of any tree trouble yet. (Source: Putting tanglefoot on trees directly – GardenWeb)
I decided to ask the author, Stacy, the about plastic wrap vs. paper banding.
Great post, and the photo play-by-play is the best resource I’ve found online! Thank you. This is my first foray into fruit tree pest tangling (wrangling?), and I’m curious about your preference for plastic wrap instead of the paper/cardboard option proposed by the manufacturer. I’m guessing you’ve tried both and decided that the plastic wrap works better? Would you be willing to explain the pros and cons of plastic instead of paper? Hoping to get this right the first time! Thanks.
Stacy answered my question the very same day (Wow! Thanks, Stacy.) as follows:
Thank you! I’m happy the pictures are helpful for you. You’ll do just fine, the hardest part is keeping it off of yourself and your clothes! I have a few reasons for the plastic.
The method that I show here (with the two stripes/plastic/cotton balls) was the way I was taught during my first experience with Tanglefoot, I didn’t even know about the cardboard at that point. It wasn’t until I started working in a retail nursery a few years later that I found out about the cardboard wrap.
I think the cardboard wrap could be good if your tree is perfectly smooth, as it leaves gaps that the bugs can walk under unobstructed. It might work ok if you put cotton balls under it and secure it tightly to close those gaps though.
Also, I don’t choose the cardboard because I live in a very rainy climate and the cardboard would disintegrate in no time at all. If your area is less rainy then it would probably be ok. I prefer the plastic too because it holds tight to the bark and stays put for the month or two that it’s on there.
I’ve just continued to use the plastic/cotton balls method because it was simple and used items I already had at home, there wasn’t an additional product that I needed to buy.
It’s just important to get the plastic off when the season is done or when the Tanglefoot becomes ineffective, the plastic allows no airflow for the bark. This would be a benefit to using the cardboard. (Source: backyardfoodgrowing.com)
Thanks again, Stacy.
Needless to say, I still haven’t tried the plastic film. Three years of installation with paper wraps, and the approach seems to be working. So, if it ain’t broke don’t fix it!
This morning I spied a Colorado Potato Beetle (Leptinotarsa decemlineata) or three in the vegetable garden. Here’s a fuzzy snapshot of one Colorado Potato Beetle contentedly munching away on young eggplant leaves.
Colorado Potato Beetle on Eggplant Leaf (Source: Geo Davis)
Do you see the yellow striped beetle? It’s approximately center frame.
Here’s a closeup of another Colorado Potato Beetle once I flicked him/her onto the ground.
Colorado Potato Beetle (Source: Geo Davis)
Despite the fact that these pests are aren’t questionably distractive to the vegetable garden, I find it difficult to kill such a beautiful creature. Somehow it’s easier to squish a slug that it is to crush this handsomely striped beetle.
Despite my aesthetic misgivings, I dispatched each Colorado Potato Beetle and made a mental note to doodle or perhaps watercolor one. Or two. (See above.)
This post, the latest installment in my friend or foe series, will endeavor to demystify Colorado Potato Beetle (Leptinotarsa decemlineata).
Description: The mature beetles are around 1/3″ long and their hard, rounded shell (think modern VW bug) is yellow with black stripes (body) and orange with black spots (head). Although I haven’t seen any yet, the Colorado Potato Beetle larvae “are plump orange grubs with two rows of black dots on each side of the body.” (Source: Great Garden Companions: A Companion Planting System for a Beautiful, Chemical-Free Vegetable Garden, Sally Jean Cunningham)
Damage: They defoliate potatoes, eggplant, tomatoes, peppers, etc.
Prevention: Straw mulch and row covers. Remove and crush larvae and adults.
Enemies: According to Cunningham, the Colorado Potato Beetle appeals to lots of predators including: “ground beetles, spined soldier bugs, and two-spotted stinkbugs, as well as birds and toads.” She offers plenty of additional options for gardeners interested in introducing/encouraging predators.
Companions: Bush beans ostensibly discourage Colorado Potato Beetle infestations, as do garlic, horseradish, “tansy, yarrow, and other Aster Family plants…”
I’ll start by hunting, doodling, and crushing. And then I’ll hustle up on installing our straw mulch (we’re WAY behind!) and adding some companion plants. Fingers crossed.
I wrap my digital arms around friend, neighbor, artist, and gardener extraordinaire Catherine Seidenberg for this memorable birthday gift. Thank you!
Catherine’s whimsical black and white watercolor of Rosslyn’s front facade offers a chance to reflect on the past decade Susan and I have spent reinvigorating this quirky property and an invitation to daydream about its future. The matched tree hydrangeas are a nod to a pair of similar (though far older varieties) hydrangeas that flaked the entrance columns before we excavated the front of the house. The older plants were transplanted with an excavator and now thrive astride a gate in the garden behind the carriage barn. The view to the right of the house, beyond the stone wall, reminds me of photographs of Rosslyn in the 1800s when the rolling hills beyond the carriage barn and ice house were far more open than today, a sea of apple orchards and green pastures dotted with grazing sheep.
[Sometimes a post is born, neglected, orphaned, left unpublished in blog purgatory. Sadly this is one such case, despite the fact that I’ve enjoyed this painting daily from its perch above the fireplace in my study. The following update reminded me that Catherine’s painting was never properly celebrated, so I conjoin the two newsworthy items here to showcase the multidisciplinary creativity of artist Catherine Seidenberg.]
After two years assisting with Rosslyn’s vegetable and flower gardens Catherine moved on to new challenges. She notified us this past spring that she was returning to ceramics, and would be spending much of this year in Keene, NY as the Craigardan artist-in-residence.
HARVEST PLATE RESIDENCY For ceramic artists who wish to participate in Craigardan’s delicious celebration of the farm, the food, and the plate. 9-month Winter residency. The 2017 Harvest Plate Resident: Catherine Seidenberg (Source: Craigardan)
If you’re in the Adirondacks (or near enough to swing through Keene, NY) I encourage you to meet Catherine in mid-September.
Slide Talk: a conversation with harvest plate resident, Catherine Seidenberg (Friday, September 15, 2017, 5:30 PM to 6:30 PM) Meet artist-in-residence Catherine Seidenberg, view her ceramic work and learn about her beautiful processes. Catherine is our summer Harvest Plate Resident, crafting all of the tableware for the fall benefit event, Dinner in the Field. (Source: Craigardan)
Susan and I are looking forward to the fall benefit!
It’s but a month and a day after Independence Day and we’re eating our first peaches of the season. Eureka!
So memorable a moment each summer when I savor the first bites of the first peaches of the season that I’ve begun to wonder if we might need to create a floating holiday. It’s hard to conceive of a better cause for celebration.
First Peaches, 2021 (Source: Geo Davis)
First Peaches Haiku
Summer’s first peaches, sunshine soaked and siren sweet, seduce all senses.
— Geo Davis
First Peach, 2021 (Source: Geo Davis)
Peach Plenitude
Growing up in the Adirondacks’ Champlain Valley, we grew fruit trees. Apples, pears, quince. But never peaches. I honestly think it was considered foolhardy in those days. Perhaps conditions pre/post climate change have shifted enough or the varietals have become hardy enough that we can account for the difference in perspective this way. Or maybe it was just unfamiliarity.
First Peaches, 2021 (Source: Geo Davis)
For this reason, I’m abundantly grateful for our stone fruit harvests in general and our peaches in particular. It’s almost as if we’re cheating nature! And my tendency to romance the first peaches of the season is rooted in this enduring awe. We actually raised peaches! Almost too good to be true. Perhaps this peach plenitude will eventually become familiar enough that we’ll take it for granted. But it’s hard to imagine. Such a delicate ambrosial fruit prospering in our northern climes. Truly a bonanza!
First Peach, 2021 (Source: Geo Davis)
If you’re new to my blathering blog, welcome. And you might be curious what sort of peaches we’re growing. Our proximity to Lake Champlain creates a microclimate that favors us when it comes to stone fruit and other marginal crops for our northern growing zone. On the other hand our soil, especially west of the carriage barn where the orchard is located, has an extremely high clay content. This is not ideal for growing peaches. They do not favor wet feet.
That said, we’ve been fortunate growing Reliance Peach (2 trees) and Contender Peach (2 trees). I’d welcome a recommendation from growers who think we’d be wise to add another winter-hardy variety that responds well to holistic orcharding.
Poppy poems! At last I’m bundling a batch of verse celebrating my favorite blooms. Poppies. Papaveraceae. Coquelicots… Most of these poppy poems started out as Instagram posts inspired, at least in part, by daily snapshots of poppies blooming in Rosslyn’s gardens. For this reason I’ll include links at the end of the poem if you’re interested in seeing the original posts. Just click the link and a new window will open with the poem as it originally appeared with accompanying image(s).
Haiku Poppy Poems
Almost ephemeral brevity, stark minimalism, and — at best — a tingly eureka moment overlap haiku’s distinctive hallmark. Delicate. Vigorous. As unlikely a juxtaposition as poppies. Exuding a fragility and sparseness, but remarkably robust and resilient, the poppy is the haiku of flowers. And so I initiate this slowly evolving post with a collection of haiku poppy poems.
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Pink-Tinged Poppy (Source: @virtualdavis)
From velvety spokes a supernova outburst, ivory crushed silk. (@rosslynredux)
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Unfettered, unfazed by cloudburst or thunderclap, sensuous stalwart. (@rosslynredux)
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Papaver flashbacks bloom in frosted flowerbeds, daydream confections. (@rosslynredux)
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Come coquelicot, come crinkly crepe paper kin, come and laugh and lift. (@rosslynredux)
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Poppy blossoms pop into crepe paper fireworks and flamenco skirts. (@rosslynredux)
Longer Poppy Poems
While poppies and haikus strike me as cousins (or perhaps even as one and the same being at different stages of transmogrification), there are times when a poppy poem’s florescence exceeds the restraint of micropoetry. There are instances in which a poppy poem’s petals bloom into a lyrical sketch or rhapsody.
Amongst vegetables, fruits, herbs, and spices pop, pop, populate floral fireworks, flamenco skirts, and crepe’s crinkly kin, the coquelicots.
So sensuous, so beyond beguiling, so delicate yet robust, resilient, as exotic and mysterious as the whispering wind. (@rosslynredux)
Poppy Portraits (Visual Poetry!)
Sometimes a poem is crafted out of words, letters and spaces coalescing around a moment, an experience, a sentiment. Other times poetry is so visual that an image better conveys the poem. Please think of my “poppy portraits” as visual poems. Maybe you’ll agree that visual poems can sometimes eclipse the letter-tethered lot!
https://www.instagram.com/reel/CgSOV5-g-WL/
She short video in the post above essays to distill the grace of a poppy in motion, buffeted by the breeze, petals fluttering, stem swaying. I’m not 100% pleased with this series of moving images, but it’s a start. I’m still learning the nuances of video, especially phone video. I’ll get better. Hopefully soon!
I’m as smitten with the poppy pods as the blooms. Once the papery petals yield to the wind or gravity, a handsome hull plump with poppy seeds remains. Ample. Memorial. Geometric.
https://www.instagram.com/p/B0GlMkNAh-1/
There’s something profoundly compelling in that image, don’t you think? A mystery unraveling. Or re-raveling. Wonder is summoned, and it answers eagerly.
Ever wonder how cucumbers would taste for breakfast? One of the joys of vegetable (and fruit) gardening is the opportunity to try new things, dip into the abundance in unusual ways, and experiment with combinations of ingredients and unusual pairings. As it turns out, a handsome woodchuck — a North American marmot (Marmota monax), if I’m not mistaken — and I agree on the appeal of cucumbers for breakfast!
Don’t get me wrong, I’m a cucumbers-for-breakfast newbie, but I can confidently vouch for the refreshing crunch of peeled, sliced cucumber with your first mug of coffee, tea, or MUD|WTR. Especially when you lather it with honey roasted peanut butter. It’s practically a full, balanced meal.
From garden to table with anticipation.
A healthy dab or two of peanut butter.
Delicious! Turns out cakes (w/peanut butter) are a perfect breakfast food!
You convinced? Try it!
Woodchuck Chuck
Our hungry Rosslyn marmot, let’s call him Woodchuck Chuck (more of a nod to my juvenile enthusiasm than a gift for gabbing with varmints), turns out to love cucumbers for breakfast too. And his palette doesn’t even depend on peanut butter to tempt.
After a couple nights of excessive buffet-ing his way through the veggies, we decided it was time for relocation. He’d burrowed himself a cozy accommodation beneath a temporary rock pile adjacent to the garden, so that’s where we placed the live trap. A broken up cucumber proved irresistible, and we were able to assist with his relocation to a less populated area with plenty to eat and no pesky gardeners vying for harvest priority.
Woodchuck Chuck, sated on cukes
Will Woodchuck Chuck return? Perhaps. But if he’s anticipating a never ending smorgasbord, well, hhhmmm… Maybe peanut butter?
After sharing pics on our Instagram (@rosslynredux) and Facebook (@rosslynredux) feeds it seems that peanut butter *might* be the secret sauce.
Sara Star: Looks like you trapped the varmint. Did you use peanut butter? It’s great bait for critters. We have live trapped a few skunks with it, and relocated. That woodchuck looks big!
Geo Davis: Huge! We didn’t even need to resort to peanut butter, just chopped up cucumber bits. Next time we re-relocate him it might require peanut butter though…
Sara: Such are the challenges of growing good food. Everyone wants to eat your veggies.
Geo: Heheh. True enough. Cheers to good food (and enough to share!)
And another similar experience.
Lorraine Townsend Faherty: we re-homed one (very chubby fellow) a few years ago using PB as bait for the trap. He knew how to get pb out of trap without getting himself trapped. but we persevered and he was taken away.
You see? Peanut butter.
Marmots & Abundance
Whether or not I’ve inspired you to try cucumbers for breakfast — with or without peanut butter, with or without woodchucks — it’s worth concluding this post with some context. Gardens invite eaters. Human eaters. But also insects, mollusks (yes, slugs are actually gastropods), birds, animals, and all manner of hungry opportunists. So what’s an organic gardener to to?
I post often about our various creative solutions for gardening holistically, but I’ve never talked about marmots. And the reason is, until now, we’ve never felt with garden pressure from marmots. Deer, yes. Raccoon, yes. And plenty of others. But no marmots until Woodchuck Chuck. So this is a first foray but not likely a final foray. I’ll update if/when useful developments.
Until then, it’s worth reiterating my underlying assumption that garden–to–table lifestyle need not focus on scarcity. I’ve likely explained that my gardening philosophy (upon rereading this sounds decidedly stodgier than intended) is an abundance mindset. What?!?!
An abundance mindset refers to the paradigm that there is plenty out there for everybody. (Source: Forbes)
Wait… what? Gardening enough for everybody? Everybody?!?!
Actually, pretty much yes.
We overgrow in the hopes that there will be plenty for us to enjoy even when our wild neighbors help themselves. Within reason. But when a wild neighbor, Woodchuck Chuck for example, gorges to excess, then we try to get creative. If our first relocation attempt is unsuccessful, then we’ll brainstorm how to leverage the magic of peanut butter!
We’re grateful to our Amish community for assistance nurturing Rosslyn’s organic vegetable, fruit, and flower gardens; our holistic orchard and vineyard; and sixty acres of landscape. While there’s much to admire about the dedicated women who have planted and weeded, pruned and suckered, nurtured and harvested for us, I’m especially grateful for their petroleum-free, exhaust free locomotion!
You suspect I jest? I do. Often. But not in this case. I’m actually quite fascinated with their efficiency of 21st century horse-and-buggy travelers.
And not only when our dedicated Amish gardeners arrive and depart, but on most every morning’s bike ride between the Adirondack foothills and Lake Champlain. I often share quiet, winding backroads with these courteous drivers. And last night, returning from Westport at an advanced hour, we witnessed three buggies moving along at a startlingly quick clip despite having no headlights. Only a single, diminutive lantern bounced within each buggy scarcely illuminating the driver, so certainly offering no navigational assistance.
Amish Assistance Arrives (Source: Rosslyn Redux)
As muscly pickup trucks and stealthy EVs wind through our rural communities, the Amish manage admirably to accomplish whatever locomotion they need without combustion engines or power grid tethers. There’s plenty to be learned from them, and not only for their dedicated industry.
This is a new opportunity for us. One nearby Amish family has been trafficking between our properties, learning quickly what each garden, each plant, each property needs. Since early spring the two to three sisters will arrive in the morning via ultra quiet conveyance. Although it took Carley a little while to become accustomed to the horse-drawn buggy, she’s no longer startled when the staccato sound of horse hooves and the curious crunching noise of carriage wheels on crushed stone awaken her from her postprandial snooze. She perks up, saunters into the screen porch, and observes. The bonneted young women wave, and I return their greeting. Carley watches until the horse and buggy disappear from view.
I’ll close with a short video I shot early in the morning last summer as another Amish buggy for a moment rolled in front of the rising sun.
Peaches This Year, August 2022 (Source: Geo Davis)
Glorious indeed it is to report that our peaches this year are the tastiest I’ve ever grown. Also the biggest, juiciest, sweetest, and IMHO the prettiest.
I’m chortling in my joy. Imagine, if you dare, the decadence of lifting a sun warmed peach, freshly plucked from the branch, up to your mouth, lips parting against the fuzzy flesh, teeth sinking effortlessly into the sweet meat, juice dribbling down your chin,…
It’s truly sensational! Peach perfection. Almost.
Sadly our perfect peaches this year belie a bittersweet backstory. But let’s micropoetry-pause a moment before sharing the slightly sadder side of this decadent moment.
Peaches This Year, August 2022 (Source: Geo Davis)
Peaches This Year: A Haiku
Few peaches this year but plump, nectar swollen with best flavor ever.
— Geo Davis
Bittersweet Backstory
That haiku actually tells the whole story, backstory and all. Our peaches this year are startlingly few after the bumper crops we’ve enjoyed over the last few years. It’s fair to say that 2020 and 2021 provided enough peaches to satisfy our most gluttonous appetites and to share with all who desired, from friends to wildlife. But 2022 has been a been a poignant recalibration.
We lost our two Reliance Peach trees this season. All of four peach trees budded on time this spring, and all four began to push out tiny little leaves. But then the two Reliance trees stalled. No apparent weather shock or fungus or predation. Just withering. And then suddenly the Reliance trees were dead. The other two trees, both Contender Peach variety, struggled as well. But they gradually overcame whatever was afflicting them (despite never really recovering 100%). Both Contender Peach trees experienced some die-back, and both set an unusually light load of fruit.
We will be replacing the dead Reliance trees and likely adding in a third new peach tree as well. Any suggestions? (Reliance vs. Contender Peach) I’m definitely open to recommendations for hardy, tasty peach tree recommendations that respond well to holistic orcharding (i.e. don’t rely on pesticide.) I’ll enjoy researching replacements, so that’s a silver lining, I suppose. But the best upside to the paucity of peaches this year has been is that the few we’ve enjoyed are quite miraculously the tastiest we’ve ever grown!
