Winter Peas and the Summation
Nov. 17th, 2008 10:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
There's a frost coming on tonight. I just ducked outside in my pajama pants, fuzzy sweater, and thick socks* to pull the last three peas off the plant before they died overnight.
I suspect this is the End of the 2008 Garden.
My harvest stands at 12 beans, 19 peas, 4 small spinaches, 2 tiny chilies, and 2 radishes. The carrots never really rooted, I left the green lettuce out a bit too late and it died, and we have already explored my deficiencies as a turkey baster for some otherwise lovely, lush, and green cucumber plants.
Things we learned working this summer's garden:
1) If I think I'm going to survive the apocalypse in some utopian rooftop-agrarian fashion off this, I perhaps have another thing coming. At high speed, and forcefully.
2) Things I grow taste better than things other people grow and sell to me in stores. I don't think this is just psychological. They really do. I didn't even cook with those peas; I ate every single one off the vine. They were too good.
3) My problems, I think, were generally issues of sunlight distribution and soil nitrogen; or to use smaller words, this is what happens when you just stick things in the dirt and water them without knowing shit. There were much greater yields and much bigger plants when I mixed a few in a container, ie beans, peas, cucumbers, peas and spinach (winner), or beans and radishes. There were much greater yields when I moved certain pots to better spots. I actually went and picked up a few how-to books for container gardening at the beginning of the fall, and hopefully with their magic purchasable knowledge I can stop busily rediscovering fire next year and actually grow enough to eat semi-regularly and maybe even put up.
4) It's not even worthwhile to start seeds indoors. Not enough light. They grow all spindly and then snap at the first strong wind. Just do 'em outside.
5) More windowboxes. And the ones that sit on the balcony railing. Snap those things up next spring. That idea about climbing the vining stuff up the pigeon screening totally worked, and maybe if I get better coverage and start sooner next year, I can achieve Leafy Bower.
6) The herbs don't actually benefit overmuch from being outside. May as well leave them in next time and use the space for something else.
7) Speaking of space, I need to work on some ideas re: levels next year. The things that are at a premium are space and sunlight, notably space with sunlight.
8) Despite not knowing my ass from a hole in the ground on this topic, I have good instincts. Be proud of that, monkey. You made this work. Trust them.
Gardening season being over, I declare it knitting season. And will be drawing up some actual plans for this garden for next April. Next year, we do this forewarned, forearmed, and with diagrams. :)
*Heating or not, my toes aren't going to be warm until March.
I suspect this is the End of the 2008 Garden.
My harvest stands at 12 beans, 19 peas, 4 small spinaches, 2 tiny chilies, and 2 radishes. The carrots never really rooted, I left the green lettuce out a bit too late and it died, and we have already explored my deficiencies as a turkey baster for some otherwise lovely, lush, and green cucumber plants.
Things we learned working this summer's garden:
1) If I think I'm going to survive the apocalypse in some utopian rooftop-agrarian fashion off this, I perhaps have another thing coming. At high speed, and forcefully.
2) Things I grow taste better than things other people grow and sell to me in stores. I don't think this is just psychological. They really do. I didn't even cook with those peas; I ate every single one off the vine. They were too good.
3) My problems, I think, were generally issues of sunlight distribution and soil nitrogen; or to use smaller words, this is what happens when you just stick things in the dirt and water them without knowing shit. There were much greater yields and much bigger plants when I mixed a few in a container, ie beans, peas, cucumbers, peas and spinach (winner), or beans and radishes. There were much greater yields when I moved certain pots to better spots. I actually went and picked up a few how-to books for container gardening at the beginning of the fall, and hopefully with their magic purchasable knowledge I can stop busily rediscovering fire next year and actually grow enough to eat semi-regularly and maybe even put up.
4) It's not even worthwhile to start seeds indoors. Not enough light. They grow all spindly and then snap at the first strong wind. Just do 'em outside.
5) More windowboxes. And the ones that sit on the balcony railing. Snap those things up next spring. That idea about climbing the vining stuff up the pigeon screening totally worked, and maybe if I get better coverage and start sooner next year, I can achieve Leafy Bower.
6) The herbs don't actually benefit overmuch from being outside. May as well leave them in next time and use the space for something else.
7) Speaking of space, I need to work on some ideas re: levels next year. The things that are at a premium are space and sunlight, notably space with sunlight.
8) Despite not knowing my ass from a hole in the ground on this topic, I have good instincts. Be proud of that, monkey. You made this work. Trust them.
Gardening season being over, I declare it knitting season. And will be drawing up some actual plans for this garden for next April. Next year, we do this forewarned, forearmed, and with diagrams. :)
*Heating or not, my toes aren't going to be warm until March.
no subject
Date: 2008-11-19 11:20 pm (UTC)