If I’m going to be feeding the wildlife, then I think it’s only fair that I get to eat it. But nay, the ODNR has restricted when and where I can hunt these voracious little creatures which chew through my garden like a clever simile. And when have rabbits ever been in danger of extinction?
To be fair, I wasn’t planning on eating that kale. Yuck. But it was big and green and happy, and they didn’t have to eat the entire plant. Rabbits just don’t respect sustainable resources.
Down to the nubs
In other news, the thyme plant I grew from seed years ago, having lived in a pot and being the only source of fresh thyme to an apartment-dweller, bloomed. I had never seem thyme bloom before. It would seem that the plant had gotten old enough that it finally had the energy reserves needed to procreate.
All it needed was a little thyme
I wonder if thyme can stand up to foot traffic. The stuff seems to endure through the worst environmental conditions that Ohio can throw at it. It sure would make a nice-smelling replacement for grass.
Like any gardener, I consult the frost dates when deciding to plant. April 19 was our average last frost, so a 50% probability that after this date, there will be no more freezes. 50% is not a good bet with my tomatoes, and I’ve been burned by this in the past (or rather frostbitten), so I go off the later date: the guaranteed last frost date, or whatever they call it. It seems to go by more than one name, but it’s basically the almost certain guaranteed date after which there will be no more frost. Ours was May 3. The weekend after, I planted my tomatoes.
What could go wrong?
That weekend, Sunday night–last night, May 7, the weather report predicted a low of 34. But, there was no frost advisory. It would be cutting it close, but ultimately after an exhausting weekend, I lacked the energy to consider going out and covering my tomatoes. I trusted to fate.
This morning, as I rolled the trash to the curb, I noticed with dismay that there was frost upon the grass. I quickly inspected my tomatoes. One appeared frostbitten, but the others did not. I noted that the line of frost only just barely touched the edge of my garden.
The coldest period of the night was 6-7AM. This was the time during which I was reviewing my garden, so it is possible that I was seeing the worst of things. The garden is against the garage, so maybe enough residual heat leached from the house to keep the garden thawed.
The Farmer’s Almanac had this to say about the date:
‘You are almost guaranteed that you will not get frost’
Apparently “almost” is the key word. After work, I go home to determine the damage. And I hope that one night has not destroyed 6 weeks of indoor growing preparation for my first garden at the new house.
I think I shortened my lifespan this weekend. There were certainly moments when I wanted to lay down and expire. But rather than make individual posts and cloud the feed, I’ll make a multi-purpose single post instead to feed the cloud (heh, nerd jokes):
You Say Tomato
Yes, I removed more sod. And I think I’ve finally had it with that. There will be no more garden installation this year. Seriously, I hate removing sod.
Grass is kind of just wasted space
Note that old cable box from a defunct cable company. I’m going to have to rip that off the wall one day. Anyway, when the house’s seller (the son of the former owner) haphazardly threw down mulch to gain a +10 curb appeal, for some reason he made this side organically-shaped. It’s the only “garden” that wasn’t rectangular. Maybe he got creative. Maybe he ran out of mulch. Who knows? But, this is the SW side of the house, and the ideal location for a vegetable garden. So I had to widen it anyway.
A more efficient design
We argued over the tomato-securing system. I wanted to use trellis netting and just have a row of tomatoes. Apparently Liz had experienced that before with her parents and the results were not as expected. But the peculiarities of any garden are unique to their specific circumstances, so this will be an experiment anyway. This year, we’ll try the bamboo poles. Planting to come this weekend.
Mobile Foodies
I admit–food is not my drug. Therefore, the many joys of food novelty are lost on me. Among these is the influx of food trucks. It isn’t really much cheaper, I have to yell over the sound of generators to place my order, and as the customer I’m tasked with finding my own improvised seating arrangements.
It’s hard to smile with a mouth full of hotdog
But, it is an opportunity to quickly try a variety of food options. And those spicy Caribbean tacos I had were pretty darn good. And it was a fun new experience for the kid, so win.
…Comes Tumblin’ Down
Look at this pine tree:
It appears unimportant to me, priority-wise. It isn’t dying, nor is it leaning dangerously. But my neighbor hated it, and my wife hated it. As I spent my childhood on the Great Plains, it’s still fascinating to me that trees can grow naturally, and not have to be attended to constantly. I like trees, but native Ohioans seem to revel in deforestation for some reason. Ultimately, I conceded to having this one tree removed, were we to need to remove a tree to satisfy the boiling desire of my Ohioan wife to kill a tree.
My neighbor, in his excitement upon hearing word of my concession, and apparently having recently gotten his chainsaw in working order, ran over to greet us with said chainsaw, and expressed his willingness to cut the tree down at that moment–to which my wife readily agreed.
It may be just a tree, but I still have trouble with needlessly extinguishing a life
I also have many a memory of the trees in Lubbock dying, and needing to be chopped down. And while my youthful memory likely exaggerates the negatives, I recall dad borrowing a chainsaw to fell the trees, followed by me spending hours with the pruners and bow saw, chopping and cutting, chopping and cutting…
This tree was no exception. 3-4 hours later, and we had grown the firewood supply. And for whatever reason, the women of the neighborhood found it hilarious that I was butchering the tree with a reciprocating saw. I guess, compared to the chainsaw, there was a penis joke in there somewhere.
What the Duck?
Ending on a happy note, a duck and her ducklings wandered down the gutter.
I wonder where she was leading them. I’m not aware of any nearby ponds. But last year I almost hit a duck with the mower in my front yard, so apparently we’re good duck territory despite the lack of ponds…and mechanical chopping machines.
A lot of plants have migrated out of the indoor garden. Some, though, remain. Remember the Evil Morning Glories, or as I had named them: Ipomea Diaboli (fuck you, botanists everywhere–I can do it too!)? Well, it seems they feed upon light–same as other plants, and not upon the negative energy wrought by souls of the damned as I had originally suspected. I came to this conclusion by observing the size of the plant I had unceremoniously thrown into a pot under the growlight because I wanted something green down there:
A lesser demon
It’s a cute little demon anyway.
Also, that bean plant I attempted that managed to produce a pod? The pod dried and I harvested it, figuring it wasn’t worth the effort to eat a single bean, but rather to harvest the seed:
A single seed within. All the work and the plant only has a single viable offspring. Seems like a zero net gain. Sort of like Liz and I, except that’s a generational net loss. Still, I think neither beans nor humans are in any immediate danger of extinction.
