Tag: Organic Gardening

Chilled Dairy Free Broccoli Soup

It’s been a hot and steamy Independence Day weekend so far. When we entertained family last night I wanted to prepare something light and garden-fresh to transition into dinner. With the first crop of our Brassica oleracea var. italica succession crop ready to eat, we opted for a chilled dairy free broccoli soup.

Chilled Dairy Free Broccoli Soup (Photo: Geo Davis)

Let’s begin at the beginning. We grow several varieties of broccoli (Brassica oleracea var. italica) under row covers in 2-3 succession plantings (and/or transplanting) to ensure vibrant, pest free, flavor and nutrient rich abundance. So. Much. Green.

Broccoli in the Garden (Photo: Geo Davis)

For steaming and eating hot, chopping into crudités and enjoying cold with hummus or dip, juicing into ultra-green magic potion, and puréeing into a refreshing summer soup, broccoli is one of our vegetable garden all stars.

Harvesting Homegrown Broccoli (Photo: Geo Davis)

Green perfection! The massive organic broccoli florets in the photo above overshadow the diminutive cluster of hammocks in the distance. I enjoy the contrast (and the rightful reign of this nutrition superhero!)

Broccoli, Radishes, and Summer Squash (Photo: Geo Davis)

In the photo above a pair of colorful companions (radishes for crudités and yellow summer squash to be thinly sliced on the mandolin and mixed into a green bean salad with vinaigrette), harvested during the same veggie garden excursion, are washed and standing by. Technicolor flavor bombs ready for action!

Garlic Scapes, and Spring Onions, and Broccoli (Photo: Geo Davis)

And speaking of flavor, there are a pair of hidden-but-not-secret ingredients with which I complemented this chilled dairy free broccoli soup. Garlic scapes and spring onions from our Full and By Farm share, sautéed in olive oil to soften the fibers and release the savory deliciousness were then tossed into a blender and puréed. Liquified, really, to ensure it mixes with the steamed and puréed broccoli and the boiled and puréed potatoes.

Sautéing Garlic Scapes and Spring Onions (Photo: Geo Davis)

What do I miss. Ah, right, the dairy free twist. Obviously sautéing in olive oil rather than butter is the first step, and then thinning the blended soup with a non-dairy alternative. My go-to would be unsweetened (and no vanilla) macadamia milk, which would’ve worked perfectly in the soup. But we had none, so I substituted an unsweetened, vanilla-free almond milk. And it worked out pretty well!

A fair amount of chilling is key to develop and meld the flavors, so I moved the pot into the fridge for a little R&R. Once chilled, I whisked and seasoned the chilled dairy free broccoli soup with some lemon juice, celery, salt, and white pepper. Tada! So refreshing.

July 2, 2023
First Poppies of Summer
Yesterday’s nod to Hemerocallis Fulva, notwithstanding, my floral fondness for Papavers is an open secret. Who am I kidding? It’s no secret at all! So I brimmed with jubilation when Pam surprised me today, with our first poppies of summer. I was euphoric!

Pam Offering the First Poppies of Summer (Photo: Geo Davis)

And so a spontaneous haiku was born…

Summer’s First Poppies
```
Summer’s first poppies:
petite preemies, delicate,
fuzzy, threadlike stems. 
```
Perfection at quarter scale. Stems almost too slight to support the floppy blooms. Vulnerable. Durable. Both.

First Poppies of Summer (Photo: Geo Davis)

I remember a previous pensé on poppies and haiku. It perfectly applies to these first poppies of summer.

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… (Source: Poppy Poems)

Poppies. Haiku. Perhaps they’re cousins?
June 28, 2023
Hemerocallis Fulva

Hallelujah! The daylilies (Hemerocallis fulva) are blooming. That, THAT is the color and exuberance of early summer. Sometimes known as Fourth of July Daylilies because their bloom time (in the northeast) roughly corresponds to Independence Day, Hemerocallis fulva have begun to erupt into spectacular fireworks-esque blossoms about a week ahead of schedule. Must be the intermittent but persistent rain.

Hemerocallis Fulva (Photo: Geo Davis)

Daylilies Abloom

Although my floral polyamory (flower zealotry?) is wide ranging and broadly inclusive, summertime vibes are captured in a quasi Norman Rockwell way when Hemerocallis fulva joins the fête. What?!?!

No, that wasn’t a challenge — can you work, polyamory, zealotry, inclusivity, and Norman Rockwell into the same sentence? — but I concede a slightly self indulgent surrogate *MAY* have hijacked the keyboard. But I’m back at the helm. Back to basics…

Hemerocallis fulva, the orange day-lily,^[3]tawny daylily, corn lily, tiger daylily, fulvous daylily, ditch lily or Fourth of July lily (also railroad daylily, roadside daylily, outhouse lily, and wash-house lily),^{[citation needed]} is a species of daylily…
(Source: Wikipedia)

A daylily by any other name. Hemerocallis fulva by rights (but least applied name.)

Just beginning to bloom in the last couple of days. Should be a tiger orange riot by Indepence Day. And then a chance to gather the expired blooms for a meal or two.

What?!?!

Hemerocallis Fulva (Photo: Geo Davis)

Daylilies are not only edible, they are spectacular…

Let me start by saying that edible daylilies are the common daylily, Hemerocallis fulva, as well as its various Hemerocallis friends and relatives…
(Source: Hank Shaw, Hunt Gather Cook)

Perfect. Hemerocallis fulva is exactly what we have in abundance at Rosslyn, so I declare a feast. But how?

According to Shaw, the best way to dine on Hemerocallis fulva is to sauté the unopened flower buds in butter and salt.

Delicious. Briefly cooked, the buds have a bit of knacken, a German expression meaning a “pop.” Yet the insides reminded me of squash blossoms. The taste? Green, with a whiff of radish and a dash of green bean. Honestly, I’d eat this as a side dish any day, any place. It needs nothing else.
(Source: Hank Shaw, Hunt Gather Cook)

That’ll be clarified butter (aka ghee) for me in order to juggle my lamentably dairy free diet. I’ve also read that the post-bloom flowers are tasty, especially when dried and added to soups and stews. Time for a little experimentation…

https://www.instagram.com/reel/Ct_wlDGgwi6/

A harvesting I go…

June 27, 2023
Heaven Can Wait

“Heaven can wait…” while we enjoy the inimitable crunch of June: French breakfast radishes!

French breakfast radishes: Heaven can wait! (Photo: Geo Davis)

Remember when I asked if you were ready for radish time? Well, it’s upon us. Lots. Of. Radishes. French breakfast radishes, my favorite, to be precise. That slightly spicy, slightly sweet crunch is sooo satisfying. For breakfast. For lunch. For dinner. For snacks all day long.

French Breakfast Radishes

For the uninitiated, I’m a bit of a garden geek. And radishes, in all their punchy, hyper saturated color, flavor, and ASMR glory are one of my early season favorites.

The French Breakfast Radish (Raphanus sativus) is red-skinned root vegetable… with a white splash at the root end… [that] is distinguished by its oblong shape… [and mild flavor] if harvested and eaten early. Widely considered a spring radish, the French Breakfast Radish is ideally grown and harvested when temperatures are still cool. Hotter temperatures increase the “spiciness” (peppery bitterness common to most radishes) and often result in a pithy interior.
(Source: French Breakfast Radish)

So the increasingly hot weather (and the week of rain in the forecast) threaten to abbreviate prime time for radishes. So, we’re enjoying them without restraint!

And not just the tasty red and white roots. We added radish greens to the succulent homegrown spinach we wok-sautéed with garlic and olive oil last night. Sublime.

As with standard radish varieties, the “radish greens” of the French Breakfast Radish can also be eaten. Washed and tossed into a saucepan of olive oil (or avocado oil), garlic, and onion, this wilted green is a delicious accompaniment to just about any meal!
(Source: French Breakfast Radish)

And, have I mentioned that they are remarkably easy to grow?

French breakfast radishes (Illustration: Geo Davis)

Heaven Can Wait

Cue Dean Martin’s “Heaven Can Wait”.

Heaven can wait, heaven can wait.
This is just paradise being here with you.
“Heaven Can Wait”, Dean Martin

A little piece of paradise, French breakfast radishes, just being here with you…

June 24, 2023
Preterprecocious Peonies
Sooo close to arriving at Rosslyn, but these peony blooms (Paeonia lactiflora) have exploded into exuberant bloom before I made it back. A false start. Preterprecocious peonies, at least from my present perspective.

Fortunately Pam documented these peony season precursors. (Thanks, Pam!) Beautiful debutants, welcoming Rosslyn arrivals. Our arrival. Shortly. But, inevitably rain will arrive, as if on cue, once the peonies bloom…

Preterprecocious Peonies (Photo: R.P. Murphy)

Preterprecocious Peonies Haiku
```
Pink plumage, printemps’
preterprecocious coquet,
flouncy peonies.
```
Perhaps micropoetry might capture a petal or three. And offering it up to the universe just might invite a rain free reprieve?

Preterprecocious Peonies (Photo: R.P. Murphy)

Bursting with color and perfume, peonies might seem an unlikely culinary accessory. But the roots and petals are, in fact, edible. Of course anybody who’s cultivated propones (preterprecocious or otherwise) would resist disinterring peony roots for eating. But the petals?

Peony… petals taste lovely fresh in salads, or lightly cooked and sweetened. (Source: Edible Flowers Guide, Thompson & Morgan)

While I’m hoping to catch these beauties in person shortly, at least I can rest assured that foraged flower petals will be an option.
June 15, 2023
West Elevation Doorway Installed

I’m thrilled to showcase the icehouse’s west facade with new double doors flanked with full-height side lites. What a transformation. With the west elevation doorway installed we’re approaching the point where reality resembles Tiho’s renderings.

Rendering for Icehouse Rehabilitation, West Elevation (Source: Tiho Dimitrov)

Remember that west elevation drawing Tiho created to help the team visualize where we were headed? The image below captures the same view, the partially fenestrated west facade, just prior to the day the west elevation doorway was installed.

Partially Fenestrated West Facade (Photo: R.P. Murphy)

I jumped the gun, announcing fenestration progress when we were still short of completion.

Aside from window and door trim, three out of four elevations — east (above), south, and north — are now exhibiting their close-to-final appearance. (Source: Fenestrated Facades)

One of the many workflow challenges we’ve navigated was delaying installation of the glass doors.

Only the west elevation (below) is still waiting on installation of the 1st floor double doors and flanking windows. And that’s on hold until flooring is complete. So, hopefully soon! (Source: Fenestrated Facades)

Fortunately the flooring installation was completed, and we were able to proceed with the doors.

Once the double doors, flanked with windows, four glass apertures balancing the gable window above, are installed, this west-facing elevation will allow for a seamless interplay of interior and exterior living area. So long anticipated, these fenestrated facades are beginning to bridge the envisioned and the actual. (Source: Fenestrated Facades)

And here it is! West wall opening, doors being installed.

Installing West Elevation Doorway (Photo: R.P. Murphy)

With Peter overseeing, Matt (green shirt) and Supi (red shirt) secured and fine tuned the Marvin double door unit. In the photo below they appear to be celebrating their success. Actually, rather than a victory lap I think they’re troubleshooting to ensure the install was perfectly executed.

Installing West Elevation Doorway (Photo: R.P. Murphy)

And then came the glass slabs flanking the doors.

West Elevation Doorway (Photo: R.P. Murphy)

Once trimmed, these four glass apertures will be mulled into a contiguous element that looks as handsome from without as within. Soon I promise to share the inside-out perspective!

June 9, 2023
Ready for Radish Time?

Spring-into-summer is a celebratory parade of gastronomic gateways. Nettles, ramps, fiddleheads, asparagus, rhubarb,… So many seasonal ingredients and tastes. And now it’s radish time!

Ready for Radish Time? (Photo: R.P. Murphy)

These early French Breakfast Radishes are almost impossibly delicious. Crisp and spicy. Uniquely refreshing.

The French Breakfast Radish (Raphanus sativus) is [an] early summer classic — and perennial staple of Rosslyn’s vegetable garden — [that]… tends to be mild (less “spicy” than other standard radishes) if harvested and eaten early… (Source: French Breakfast Radish)

Ready for French Breakfast Radish time? (Illustration: Geo Davis)

Perhaps four years living in Paris account for my preference, but these early season benisons — as enticing to the eyes as to the tongue — beguile me year after year.

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. (Source: Radishes and Radish Greens)

Such sweet springtime seduction. Love at first crunch. New and invigorating each year despite familiarity and anticipation.

And that’s just the red and white taproot. To be sure, the tuberous vegetable is what we envision when radishes are on the menu. But they’re only part of the radish time rewards.

Radishes aren’t just crunchy eye candy for crudités. Radishes are nutritious. Especially the radish greens! (Source: Radishes and Radish Greens)

That’s right. The lush greens you snatch to lift a ripe radish from the soil are a delight themselves.

As with standard radish varieties, the “radish greens” of the French Breakfast Radish can also be eaten. Washed and tossed into a saucepan of olive oil (or avocado oil), garlic, and onion, this wilted green is a delicious accompaniment… (Source: French Breakfast Radish)

Whether wilted alone or mixed with spinach and shredded Swiss chard, these nutrient rich greens will improve your plate. And radish greens sautéed then puréed with cream (or nondairy alternative such as Macadamia milk) make a delicate soup as pretty as it is piquant.

These are the delights of radish time…

June 6, 2023
High Tunnel Tomato Plants, Take Two

High Tunnel Tomato Plants, Take One: Frost Damaged Tomato Plants, May 18, 2023 (Photo: R.P. Murphy)

Sometimes, when I’m trying to explain the many merits of gardening, I describe the cultivation of plants as a quasi-religious force in my life. Sincerely. Hyperbole? Perhaps, but there’s much in the practice of planting and sowing, cultivating and composting, even weeding and pruning and grafting that underpins my worldview, informs my optimism, and provides a circular and self sustaining system of belief and practice. What constitutes a religion is a debate for another blog. But tossing this into the mix may help contextualize the significant ache I was veiling in my recent High Tunnel Hubris post.

I tried to remain matter-of-fact, sidestepping the debilitating discouragement that sidelined me for a day or two after a severe frost shocked dozens of the plants that I’d helped transplant.

High Tunnel Tomato Plants, Take Two: Suckering Back to Life? (Photo: R.P. Murphy)

So… when we jumpstarted our spring starts in the high tunnel, I was fueled with fervor and faith. We’d have tomatoes by the end of June!

But a severe frost reminded us that BLTs and gazpacho aren’t a matter of pipe dreaming alone. Yes, nature humbles.

High Tunnel Tomato Plants, Take Two: Suckering Back to Life? (Photo: R.P. Murphy)

No blame, except my own optimism. I understood the stakes. I understood the risks. And I understood the consequences. Although the perspective is pretty bleak, at this point, I’m tentatively hopeful that some of the tomatoes may recover. If the soil was warm enough, the roots may remain vital. If a sucker shoots in, we can cultivate it into a new plant. The prospect, of course, for tomatillos is less good. But I’m not prepared to give up yet. The possibility of new growth might yet eclipse the discouraging dieback we’re now witnessing. After all, I’m not aware of anyone who has ever died of optimism! (Source: High Tunnel Hubris)

And so I fell back on optimism. Pollyanna optimism. We left the cold-shocked tomato plants in the ground. And little by little *some* regrowth has occurred. A minority, but an inspiring minority of our zapped tomato plants have rebounded, sending up new growth as “suckers” that we’re endeavoring to cultivate into new stems, new productive tomato plants.

High Tunnel Tomato Plants, Take Two: Suckering Back to Life? (Photo: R.P. Murphy)

It’s still early, as you can see in today’s photographs. They may endure. They may thrive. They may produce a robust tomato crop. Or, they may not. But we’re tending them. Loving them. Believing in them. We’re fertilizing these resilient tomato plants with optimism. If fortune so chooses, we’ll have learned from our hubris *AND* we’ll be able to celebrate our wisening with the sweet tangy sacrament of Black Krim and Green Zebra tomatoes!

June 4, 2023
Holistic Orcharding: Fruitful and Deer-full

Holistic Orcharding: June pears (Source: Geo Davis)

I’m excited to report that we may finally be able to enjoy Rosslyn peaches, nectarines, and even a few pears and apples this summer. For the first time since we began planting an orchard, several trees have matured enough to set fruit.

Fruitful Orchard

Holistic Orcharding: Mulberry fruit ripening in June (Source: Geo Davis)

Holistic Orcharding: Mulberry fruit ripening in June (Source: Geo Davis)

Those bright red mulberry will darken as they soak up sun and begin to sweeten. They’re still pretty mealy (though the birds don’t seem to mind at all!)

The photograph at the top of this post shows a couple of small pears. A couple of pear trees set a pear or two last summer, but they dropped (or were eaten by critters) before I ever tasted them. Most of the pear tress are still fruitless, but a couple small green and red fruit are looking promising.

Holistic Orcharding: Young peaches in June (Source: Geo Davis)

For the first, our peach trees are setting fruit. Heavy winds and rains have resulted in steady fruit drop, but I’m guardedly optimistic that we may actually be able to sink out teeth into a few fuzzy, nectar-sweet peaches soon.

The peaches are the most fruitful of all the trees at this point. In fact, a couple of trees are so laden that I’ll probably begin thinning fruit as they grow larger, culling the runts and least healthy fruit and leaving the best.

The photo below on the left offers a wider perspective on a fruitful peach, and the photo on the right shows a young and almost equally fruitful nectarine tree.

Holistic Orcharding: Young peaches in June (Source: Geo Davis)

Holistic Orcharding: Young nectarines in June (Source: Geo Davis)

The three nectarine trees are 3-4 years younger than the peaches, so I’m curious why two of them are already setting fruit. The third nectarine tree has never been very healthy. Dwarfish and sparsely branched, leafed, I’ll try for one more summer to help it along. If it doesn’t begin to catch up, I’ll consider replacing it next year.

Like the apricot that I replaced this year…

Holistic Orcharding: Transplanted apricot tree (Source: Geo Davis)

We’ve struggled with apricots. Few of our apricot trees are thriving, and one died last year. We replaced it this spring with the Goldicot Apricot above, the only variety that seems to be adapting well. I can report good new growth so far on the transplant, but another apricot has died. Both are lowest (and wettest) on the hill, so I plan to address the drainage this fall. Perhaps the heavy clay soil and high spring water table is simply to much for the apricots to withstand.

Deer-full Orchard

Unfortunately it’s not all good news in the orchard. We remain committed to our 100% holistic orcharding (thanks, Michael Phillips!) mission, but we’re still playing defense with Cedar Apple Rust and other pesky challenges. I’ll update on that soon enough, but there’s another frustrating pest that provoked my frustration yesterday.

Holistic Orcharding: Apple tree browsed by deer (Source: Geo Davis)

Can you see the munched leaves and branches?

Holistic Orcharding: Apple tree browsed by deer (Source: Geo Davis)

Another munched branch (and early signs of Cedar Apple Rust).

Holistic Orcharding: Apple tree browsed by deer (Source: Geo Davis)

Ive you look just below center of this photograph you’ll see where a large branch has been snapped right off. It was laying on the ground below. Also plenty of smaller branches and leaves chewed.

The two apple trees which were targeted by the deer were planted last spring. They’d both established relatively well, but they were short enough to offer an easy snack. We keep the trees caged during the fall-through-spring, but we had just recently removed the cages to begin pruning and spreading limbs (see red spreader in image above?), so the trees were easy targets.

And there’s worse news.

Holistic Orcharding: Young persimmon tree browsed by deer (Source: Geo Davis)

That’s a young persimmon tree that we just planted a couple of weeks ago. It was a replacement for a persimmon that arrived dead from the nursery last year (another drama for another day…)

Not only did the deer browse the persimmon, but it ate both leads, presenting a serious hurdle for this transplant. Not a good situation. I’ll pamper this youngster in the hopes that one of these blunted leads will send up another lead, or—more likely, but far from guaranteed—a fresh new lead will bud and head skyward. Fingers crossed.

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June 22, 2017
Organic Orcharding
Apple Blossom, Spring 2016

For the last few years I’ve made brazen claims about holistic, organic gardening and orcharding. No pesticides. No way; no how.

Period.

No exceptions.

I’ve refused to spray our fruit trees to inoculate them against all of the baddies that lurk in an orchard’s tender places. I’ve refuted the discouraging oracles who assure me that I will fail; that a successful orchard requires, requires, pesticides and fungicides; that neighboring fruit tree growers will consider my bad judgment not only an ill-informed mistake but a dangerous threat to their own trees.

Apple Blossom, Spring 2016

I’ve soldiered on, resolved to make Rosslyn a toxin-free, organic, healthy environment. I’ve poured over alternative gardening, lawn maintenance and orcharding resources. And I’ve experimented. Sometimes successfully, sometimes unsuccessfully. The orchard alone has required about a 5-10% replant rate over the last 3+ years. Which is discouraging. And frustrating. But it’s also remarkable that most of the trees have survived and thrived!

But I am slightly evolving in my thinking. Less dogmatic. More informed. And my black and white “Pesticides: No Way, No How” line in the sand is yielding to alternative, non-toxic, but considerably more proactive approaches to fruit tree growing. (Much credit is due to Michael Phillips (Grow Organic Apples: Holistic Orchard Network) among other holistic orchard mentors. Thanks, Sir Phillips!)

Last summer I added three new “tools” to my orcharding, and I’m going to focus on each of the three in separate posts in order to keep the topics focused and useful to others exploring the realm of healthy, non-toxic fruit tree propagation. Here are the three:
- Tanglefoot: How to Use Tanglefoot
- Neem Oil
- Kaolin Clay
Organic Plum Trees in Bloom, Spring 2016
June 1, 2016
Holistic Orcharding: Michael Phillips

The Holistic Orchard: Tree Fruits and Berries the Biological Way, by Michael Phillips

For several years I’ve been absorbing holistic orcharding and gardening wisdom from Michael Phillips. I no longer recall how I came across the pied piper of organic, non-toxic fruit tree propagation, but it’s quite possible that my first introduction was an article in Mother Earth News titled, “Organic Apple Growing: Advice From Michael Phillips“.

If you’re uninitiated, Michael Phillips is the owner (along with his wife, Nancy, and their daughter, Gracie), steward, and chronicler of Lost Nation Orchard in New Hampshire. His book, The Holistic Orchard, is the bible for organic apple growers. Here’s a trailer for the companion DVD, Holistic Orcharding.

The book is outstanding. As is The Apple Grower: A Guide for the Organic Orchardist. And I’d also recommend this YouTube playlist of Michael Phillips’ organic orcharding videos.

Holistic Orcharding Tips

Whether or not “Organic Apple Growing: Advice From Michael Phillips“, the article in Mother Earth News, was my introduction to Michael Phillips’ ideas about holistic orcharding, there are some great takeaways that I’ll highlight here:

Q: How big of a hole do I need to dig for planting a tree?
A: The size of the tree hole needs to be large enough to accommodate the roots without bending them. A 3-foot diameter hole generally fits the bill. (Source: MOTHER EARTH NEWS)

Q: A friend told me I should buy a mycorrhizal product to boost the growth of my trees. Does such a product have any worth?
A: Plants have developed an incredible symbiotic relationship with certain fungi to help get nutrients from the soil, as well as to ward off pathogenic organisms. An apple tree has specific mycorrhizae that interact with its roots in the humus layer in these ways. You can inoculate your soil by finding a healthy wild tree and then bringing a few scoops of the soil beneath its branches back to your ground. Ecosystems adapt to the needs at hand without our necessarily having to buy a packaged product. (Source: MOTHER EARTH NEWS)

Q: Some bug is tunneling into a lot of my fruit when it’s just the size of a nickel. What’s up?
A: We deal with two “petal-fall pests” in the eastern half of the United States that easily could be your culprits. Plum curculio larvae get their start in a crescent-like scar the female weevil makes to prevent the growing fruitlet from crushing her egg; European apple sawfly larvae first scratch the surface of a pea-sized fruitlet, and then go on to eat the seeds in another three or four fruitlets. (Source: MOTHER EARTH NEWS)

Q: What’s up with the new kaolin clay spray?
A: Those petal-fall pests identified above can be held effectively in check with a nontoxic white clay covering applied over the entire surface of the tree. The kaolin clay panicles confuse the insect adults and prove incredibly irritating… Application begins as the blossoms start to fall and needs to be thorough. It takes two or three initial sprays to build up a thick enough base to repel these insects. Renew the clay weekly for the next month. (Source: MOTHER EARTH NEWS)

Q: Why did my grandparents hang open jugs of vinegar and molasses out in the orchard?
A: Such homegrown traps usually target adult fruit moths such as the codling moth. Unfortunately, all sons of bugs end up drowning in this brew, some of which might have been beneficial allies. I prefer to control codlings moths with well-timed sprays of Bacillus thuringiensis (Bt), a biological pesticide stomach-specific to caterpillars. Others have had some success wrapping corrugated cardboard around the trunk of the tree, where the larvae crawl to continue their development. Then at the end of the summer, the cardboard is removed and burned. (Source: MOTHER EARTH NEWS)

Q: When do I hang those red sticky ball traps?
A: Apple maggot flies (AMF) are the culprits drawn to these effective traps. The new generation emerges from the soil beginning in late June, with females seeking fruit in which to lay eggs throughout July and August. The sticky balls mimic the best apple to be found in the orchard. The female alights on the trap and stays put because of a layer of sticky goo called “Tangletrap” covering the red sphere… Two to four traps per tree generally suffice to keep AMF larvae from ruining a good harvest. I set out traps on early maturing varieties by the first of July, then scrape off the dead flies and renew the sticky material when moving the traps to later-maturing varieties in early August. (Source: MOTHER EARTH NEWS)

Books by Michael Phillips

The Holistic Orchard, by Michael Phillips

The Apple Grower by Michael Phillips

The Herbalist’s Way, by Nancy and Michael Phillips

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July 14, 2016
Artichoke Time Prequel

Just as there’s a time for asparagus (and tulips and dandelions and radishes and maple syrup and…) there’s a time for artichokes. As it’s only just beginning, today’s post is more of a prelude, an artichoke time prequel.

Artichokes Ready to Transplant (Photo: R.P. Murphy)

Look at those healthy artichoke starts ready to transplant into Rosslyn’s garden! We were actually ready a week ago, but the damaging cold snap tempered are enthusiasm. So we post plowing to our planting until we know that temperate weather is here to stay.

Artichokes Ready to Transplant (Photo: R.P. Murphy)

At this point, we’re probably safe, but if you more days of delay, can’t hurt. We’re still crossing our fingers and waiting to see if any of the frosted tomato plants recover, so at this point, we’re experiencing the gardener-equivalent of “gun shy”, I guess.

Once these beautiful thistles are thriving in the ground, I will post an update. And then, the next magical moment will be the formation of the chokes!

May 29, 2023