Just Let a Few Weeds Grow

[Note the above pic is from the 2008 garden] The garden is already bursting with life. The mild Utah winter didn't force many perennials into dormancy, and a few tenders and annuals actually pulled through. If you read my entry, "January Broccolli" you have a general idea how alive our garden was all through the winter. To get you up to speed, allow me to offer a brief (potentially boring) synopsis of where the 2009 garden stands to date. Officially, Rainbow chard, sorrel, Chinese cabbage, and dandelions (one man's weed - another man's medicinal herb and delicious salad green) survived the winter and are already harvestable. Broccoli and brussel sprouts pulled through the winter and are setting fruit. Fall planted carrots and onions are doing great. the carrots are harvestable but not sweet enough to bother yet. Cilantro, chamomile, bachelor buttons, cosmos, and sunflowers reseeded and are popping up all over the garden. The last week in march, we seeded in new cold weather veggies and salad greens with the exception of peas, beets. turnips, and radishes. Little baby salad is popping up all over. On Sunday I planted turnips, beets, and radishes. Yesterday I planted peas. Today it snowed. Ah, spring in the rockies. Now for the gardening wisdom of the day: I am absolutely fascinated by the life in the garden (although I could do without the volunteer grass). If I did nothing but water the garden from here on out, I am certain it would be beautiful; full of wildflowers and volunteer crops. Last year a petunia volunteered on the edge of a bed. Somehow a little seed survived the winter and the decomposing power of the compost pile, was turned into the soil as compost in the spring and by mid summer was a proud and beautiful flower. Several fruit producing squash and the biggest cosmo I have ever seen sprung forth from compost crumbs around the bin. The year before a tomato volunteered in front of our mailbox and actually produced fruit despite our neglect. My devoted plant-loving counterpart transplanted a mystery weed all over the garden last year in hopes that it would bloom and attract pollinating insects. When plants volunteer I try to let them be. If they are in a really poor location, I try to transplant them to a more favorable spot, but I never assume a weed is a weed is a weed. People always comment on how beautiful our garden is. In truth, if we pulled everything that we didn't plant on purpose our garden would be very dull and very void of color. Our weeds are often wildflowers and wildflowers attract beneficial insects and guests with mojitos. The moral of todays blog post? I challenge you to let a few "weeds" grow. You may be pleasantly surprised by the outcome.

I Declare: It is Officially Gardening Season.

Ahhh. . A warm spring rain to liven things up a bit. Indeed it has been a long strange winter and the spring has tested my patience. But, today, today my friends, it is officially gardening season. Seed sales are up this year as people scramble to save on grocery bills. "recession gardens," are replacing 10x10 blocks of sod all over the U.S. Hooray! Gardening is therapy. It is a welcome respite from your stressful life. In the garden, everything is magical and life outside the garden is suddenly less earth-shattering. So, for those of you just starting out, I would like to first offer my congratulations; quickly followed by my condolences. My first garden flopped hard, but I learned from my mistakes and my second garden kicked ass! So, don't give up. The Green Dog Blog will follow my garden this year every step of the way: from seeds to canning. I will share with you my tips and tricks as well as the lessons learned the hard way. Gardening isn't just a hobby for me. The packaging and food miles involved in 'buying' food turns my stomach; and I am a huge proponent of knowing where my food came from. It doesn't get any closer than your own backyard. To all you new gardeners out there, welcome to a wonderful lifelong obsession. To all you seasoned gardeners out there, please share your knowledge, and GAME ON!

A welcome back gift from the garden

It's Mid-march in Utah. It will surely snow again, and again and again. Last year it snowed in June. But, this past week has been as sunny and wonderful as any spring day can be. The soil is workable. The last snow storm has melted nearly completely. The tulips are breaking the surface and my perennials are breaking dormancy. The garden beckons and as tempting as it is to get out there and dive in head long, I know better. I had a failure or two last year, resulting directly from my haste to rush spring along. patience, they say, is a virtue. And what gardener isn't full of virtue? So, I must wait. But we did take advantage of the workable soil. We dug out a new flower bed, divided perennials, transplanted a few plants from last years 'nursery' to this years flower garden, planted cold weather crops: broccoli, brussel sprouts, chinese cabbage, spinach, kale, chard, lettuce etc.; and laid down the compost crop in this year's fallow bed. I started to prune last years dead growth from a few perennials but resisted the temptation to continue further. Last falls cold weather crop bed is bursting with life. I was actually able to make a salad with chinese cabbage and carrots. And that brings me to my point: carrots are an interesting crop. Carrots can be stored under ground through the winter. The colder it gets, the sweeter they are in the spring. So here we are in March, much too early to enjoy mounds of homegrown organic produce on the counter, yet pounds and pounds of enormous sweet carrots are piled on my counter. How delightful! A little gift from the garden, a welcome back gift of sorts.

Why grow boring ol' potatoes when you can grow Oca and Yacon?

It's that time of year when the ground is brown where it's not covered with snow, the air is bitter cold, and the plants are sleeping. The only solace for a gardener is the arrival of the seed catalog. Although it is still January, my gardeners heart is already in the garden - perhaps it never left. In my seed shopping, I've come across two root crops of interest. We've all grown potatoes, but have you ever heard of Oca? What about Yacon? Oca (oxalis tuberosa), is native to the Andean region of South America. South American peoples have been cultivating this staple crop since the reign of the Inca empire. It's nutritionally similar to the potato but has a tart, nutty flavor. It's tolerant of different soil conditions and drought. However, growing it here in the Rocky Mountain region may be difficult, if not impossible. The tubers begin forming after the fall equinox (September 21st), at which point they need ample water and frost free weather for at least a month or two. But, those of you with a longer growing season - california, the pacific northwest, southern utah - should give it a shot. Yacon (polymnia sonchifolia) has a little more promise in the mountains. The seedlings or crown pieces can be started indoors a couple of months before the last spring frost and then moved outside. They grow in one huge clump in conditions similar to sunflowers, which is anywhere in full sun, poor soil, and average water; and they have the consistency of jicama or water chestnuts. Interesting. Tubers and crowns for Oca and Yacon are available from seeds of change, an organic seed company we have had good luck with in the past. Check it out! http://www.seedsofchange.com

January Broccoli

Winter is the gardeners nemesis. The sky is gray and the ground is. . well, gray. By January I can no longer endure the grayness. My soul longs for the sun on my face and the dirt between my fingers. I dream of sipping mojitos on my patio after a long day of laboring in the garden beds; enjoying the cricket serenade. Just when I was certain I could truly endure it no longer, when I had started looking for real estate in Florida, the earth took pity on me. While on a snow boot clad trek to the compost pile on a rather warm January afternoon, I stopped dead in my tracks. My breath escaped from my chest and my heart began beating wildly! Could it be? Yes, it is! Broccoli! One lone broccoli plant stretched her arms up to the sky and danced under the sun. I knelt in the snow to marvel at this gift from the earth and the broccoli plant handed me a perfect, beautiful sweet floret for my mid-winter enjoyment. I dug around her with my mittens hoping to find a few of her friends. Is my sorrel thriving too? What about the kale? The bok-choy? Nope. I looked up at my broccoli and she looked back. "Shhh. They're sleeping. They will wake soon enough. You must be patient." The broccoli is right. I must be patient, though patience is not one of my strong points. I stood and silently paid tribute to the beautiful garden sleeping beneath the snow before returning to my winter cave to hibernate... for at least a few more weeks.