A vegetable garden, dug the old-fashioned way

After reading about all of the inspired methods for carving a garden bed out of your lawnscape, I sure regretted digging my garden the old-fashioned way. Here it is at left several weeks ago: just some herbs that basically wouldn't die. In the photo are chives, garlic chives, marjoram, tarragon, oregano, lemon balm, thyme, catnip, mint, chamomile, a rosemary that survived the mid-Atlantic winter, and a sage that didn't. I was sad about this until I realized the plant had left us a parting gift in the form of a volunteer descendant, growing right in the middle of the chamomile.

To dig the rest of the garden, I first stripped off the top three or four inches of grass. I stacked this sod along the edge of our yard, where it slopes down a little too much for our comfort - it might be ugly this year, but it will grow in eventually and we'll have a flatter edge.

Then I double-dug into the Maryland clay, breaking up the "soil" and adding organic matter (grass clippings, composted leaves,) fertilizer, and topsoil. It was hard, ugly work. If I had to do it all over again, I might just plant some of those radishes, sit back and wait for next summer. I'm sure that method is more sustainable and better for the soil, in addition to a lot less work! But now I have a plot that's roughly tripled in size, from 50 square feet to 144, and I have it right this very minute, along with a sore back and a sunburn.

I had laid out a rough plan of where everything would go, but alas, my seedlings are not doing so well. I think my well-meaning husband may have over-watered them in the basement, and one of the days when I left them outside ("hardening them off") we had a surprise downpour, which saturated them further.

The herbs were the best-faring of the bunch, so I put the basil, parsley and nasturtium seedlings into the ground as soon as it was ready. The complete failures were, surprise, the ones everyone tells you not to start indoors: beans and squash. A few of them were still alive, in a spindly and sad sort of way, so I put those in hoping for a miracle, and planted seeds nearby just in case the miracle didn't come through. The lettuce and onions sprouted briefly and then died (again, I suspect overwatering). And I'm still holding out hope for the tomatoes and peppers, which are still alive and green, but small.

Below, the (edible) garden in a recent photo. As you can see, the other members of my family were exceedingly helpful. Yes, that is the last sip of a Belgian beer in Rob's hand.

"Who will help me eat the stringbeans?" said the little red hen...

Basil and blackberries

Until about two hours ago, I thought I was going to have a dismal report on the basil seeds I mentioned last week. But I discovered that if I looked very closely (a magnifying glass would help) I can see the beginnings of green poking through the soil. Two little basil plants! My seeds are looking to be not a total failure as I had worried.

Then a little later I another surprise. As I did my almost daily rounds, assessing the status of my tomatoes (no red ones yet, but they're getting bigger!), I checked on our volunteer blackberries.

I had forgotten to mention the blackberries in earlier posts because we do nothing with them. They first sprouted up along the fence where we put the leftover lumber from building our house. We didn't plant them, we didn't tend them, and we forgot about them for a couple years. Last summer we remembered them just in time and enjoyed several handfuls of berries.

I suspect this year, all we will get again is a handful of berries. I have no idea what kind of blackberries they are and if they are truly wild. These are things I need to figure out. We have hopes of providing a better support for them to grow on and and would like to plant another couple of plants. In the limited reading we have done though, we learned that wild blackberry plants do not like cultivated blackberry plants and vice versa. So for the time being, we are doing nothing except picking the few blackberries we are blessed with. If anyone has any expertise or experience growing blackberries, we would love advice and suggestions!

Listen to your climate

Like I said last week, I am a transplant to Austin. I grew up in the Shenandoah Valley in Virginia, a fertile place with four distinct, but not too extreme seasons. When I started gardening here three years ago, I expected the same results here as in Virginia.

My mom and my daughter picking peas in Virginia.

I started with sugar snap peas. I planted earlier than I would have in Virginia, early-mid March. I asked my gardening neighbor and she said I'd planted way too late. I just couldn't believe it, I had helped with peas for years (in Virginia). This timing had to be just right.

Imagine that--my neighbor who had been selling produce from her organic garden for years at the Farmer's Market was right. I got a handful of peas, mostly small, pathetic looking things with half empty shells.

Next was green beans and lima beans. The harvest was dismal for the limas. The green beans probably would have been okay if I would have watered them every day. I didn't, so I picked squishy shelled green beans.

The next year was different. I gave up the traditional crops I longed for and opted for more of what is thriving in my garden now - tomatoes, squash, and peppers in the summer and broccoli, lettuce, and spinach in the winter. I've learned to listen to those who have been gardening in this extreme climate (at least summers are pretty extreme) instead of thinking that I knew what I was doing because I helped in a garden 1,500 miles Northeast of here.

I finally got my tomatoes in at a reasonable time this year, the end of February. I transplanted those, peppers and a basil plant. I am still hesitant about starting tomatoes from seed. This year, I did take a little risk. Yesterday my daughter and planted a bunch of Genovese Basil plants from seed. In places North, I may be worried about cutting the growing season too short by planting seeds now. Here, I am not worried. I transplanted a small basil plant last August and it produced until our first freeze in November or December last year.

I am counting on my former skill with seeds to hold true; I don't know what we'll do with 10 basil plants otherwise. Hostess gifts? We went to Home Depot and bought peat moss seed flats and organic potting soil. My daughter had a great time filling the flat with dirt, poking little holes for the seed, and then very carefully putting a couple of seeds in each hole. We covered them up and she proceeded to flood the poor little seeds.

My daughter carefully filling the flat with potting soil.

I am not sure if they will come up. I thought I'd try though. Transplants are good, but sometimes I need something I've started (and learned) myself instead of something started by someone else. I am aiming for one or two basil plants. It's a learning experience and my daughter thought it was great to help plant something a little differently than we usually do. After her nap today she asked if we could garden again. I need to find some more seeds to start!