Expanding the Garden Path

The side yard: No room to spare!

A few weeks ago my father-in-law and I moved the garden shed using ancient technology. We lifted it with levers and slid it on rollers to its new platform. It moved easily, with the push of one hand. This certainly gave me some perspective on Stonehenge and the pyramids. 

This also gave me the impetus to create this blog, since I regretted not having a place to share such a fun project. But the shed’s new location narrowed the path through the side yard, making it more difficult to travel, especially with the lawnmower and wheelbarrow. So this weekend I decided to make some space by expanding the path.

My Stonehenge, before it became a path.

The only supplies I bought were the stone pavers and two bags of pea gravel. Tools included a rake, shovel, hammer, chisel, and safety glasses.  

I started by raking back the bark mulch where the chimney sticks out from the house. This was the tightest spot to fit through and most in need of extra space. The bark needed to be cleared back, as it would provide neither a consistent nor a long lasting base for the pavers to rest on. 

Once I cleared the bark, I dug down a bit with my hoe, so that the pavers would sit even with the existing walk. I then tamped the earth down, just using the weight of one of the pavers. This left a sturdy foot for my path and enough room to fit the gravel and pavers. 

The first pavers

Placing the pavers was simple enough. In order to keep the pavers parallel there needs to be a barrier at the front edge. Since I eventually plan to expand the path out further, I used stakes (instead of a more permanent solution. This was particularly useful, as I had to press back against these when I placed additional pavers. 

I set new paver each flush against the existing path and the previous pavers. The gravel was perfect for this project; it made it easy to keep the pavers level and will allow for easier drainage in the future.

The first discovery: A sprinkler!

While this is all easy to sum up here, making each stone level itself and its neighbors proved to be the most challenging and time consuming portion of this project. I used two levels to do this: a small one for neighboring stones and a long one for the full path. After a while the leveling became good meditative practice…until I reached the sprinkler plug. 

Try to spot the sprinkler now!

This sprinkler plug did not represent too much of a problem, as it was not in use. But its height placed it directly in the way of my pavers. I also did not want a paver to rest directly upon it, since any additional weight might break the pipe below. Luckily the solution proved simple. Since it was just a sprinkler riser, I unscrewed it, cut it shorter, and then replaced it. It blended right in with the pea gravel and did not offset the level of my pavers. Success! The drain, on the other hand, posed a greater challenge. 

The Cursed Drain!

Easy work with the compass

The top of the drain stood taller than the sprinkler riser. I could not just cut it off, so I had to get a bit creative. 

First I used my compass to mark a circle in the corner of the pavers that sat over the 

drain. This proved difficult, as the range in height made it tough to get an accurate circle. 

Easier work with the chisel

Since the drain was not centered in the middle of the path, each paver had to be cut differently. 

Once marked, I got to experience another ancient technique as I chiseled the stones. It was easier than expected and each paver took about 2 minutes to shape. While I was unhappy to find it in my path to begin with, I actually really like how the drain looks now, especially knowing I crafted the solution. 

So now the side path is wider and it is easier to traverse the side without stepping into the planter. Next up: expanding the path's length, providing some additional structure to hold it in place, and possibly adding in a planter too.

The path, complete!

The Mystery Tree

Buying a house is an adventure. Since people have (likely) lived there before, interesting moments occur when artifacts from the past surface. While our house is only 24 years old, we've unearthed plenty of relics. Digging in the yard and garden just seems to summon these things forth.

There was the baby spoon we found while digging post holes for the grape trellis. Then the thousand nails mixed with the pea gravel in the side yard. Perhaps most surprising of all was the sprinkler head hidden under the shed. No wonder the ground was always so moist over there!

These sorts of discoveries are all part of owning a house. Each holds a new mystery (Why on earth would someone leave an uncapped sprinkler under the shed?). But perhaps the most common and visible artifacts of past residents are plants.

Bulbs surrounding the Japanese Maple

Bulbs are a surprise, since they don’t advertise their presence until they sprout. I enjoy the discovery of new bulbs, as at times I have arrived home from work to find tall flowers where I had thought only weeds grew. The mint and bee balm on the north side of the house, while not a surprise, have been appreciated in twilight summer mojitos.

The hedges were put in when the home was built, and likely chosen for their hardiness and price. To the garden-oriented, such hedges are of little use and are just there for looks (until replaced with more useful plants). Meanwhile, the morning glory/bindweed is so annoying and so difficult to get rid of that whoever planted it has ensured they will never be forgotten (not to mention frequently cursed).

And then there are the trees. When we moved in, our house had four trees: three redwood trees in the back yard and one mystery tree in the front yard. The redwood trees are my favorite type of tree and shade the house and yard from the late afternoon sun.

The mystery tree in the front yard is a different beast altogether. It litters the ground during every season. It drops leaves, long pollen-powdered pods, and small crunchy pods and really just makes a mess all year round. I really detested the tree during our first year here, since it made for so much work. And I had no idea what type of tree it was. But with all the time I spent cleaning up after it, I was determined to find out.

Branches, leaves, and female catkins

I first tried using the internet to discover what kind of tree it was. I browsed a variety of websites that contained a lot of information, but none led me down the right path. Descriptions of leaves did little; I just kept reaching dead ends. After a few days, I stopped looking. Months went by, and I just kept cleaning up after the messy mystery tree.

Then, by luck, I hit upon a discovery. I was reading about wild edibles (an interest to many self reliant gardeners) and found an article on edible catkins. There, in that article, I found the exact image of the messy pollen pods on my mystery tree. They were called catkins. It was just the clue I needed, and from there I discovered my tree.

The mystery tree...

It turns out the  mystery tree is an Alder.

Once I found this out I felt ashamed. Alders are one of the best types of trees to have in the yard. First and foremost, Alder trees fix nitrogen in the soil, boosting the growth of the plants around them. This alone propels the Alder to the top tier of trees on the list of non-fruit and non-nut producers. The “mess” the tree makes is great for compost and mulch. The branches grow nice and straight, and can be used for a variety of projects around the yard, including tripods for vines and home-made stakes. The wood is commonly used in smoking meat, especially fish. Alder is a hardwood that is easy to work, and the color and grain are pleasing to look at. The male catkins can be eaten, although I've never tried (yet!).

Now I scoop up the mess of my Alder with joy. Since starting the garden I often find I have too little organic matter and the Alder litter is appreciated; besides the lawn, the Alder is my most prolific source of for compost and mulch. While I only have grass growing under the tree right now, I plan to place other, productive, plants underneath it to put its companion capabilities to use. I am happy to have an Alder tree!

Seed Saving: Radishes and Spinach

I find the big business of selling seeds and garden supplies remarkable. Each season we gardeners visit the store, get our plants, seeds, other outdoor sundries, and soon enough we have a garden! But this dependence is sometimes difficult to swallow. After all, the seeds come from the land, but we get them from the store. Why can’t we get the seeds from the land too? Why not save seeds?

Radish seed pods and their long tendriled flowery stalks

One of the nice things about saving seeds is that the plants do most of the work themselves. After all, the plants’ goal is propagation, and all we have to do is collect the seeds at the right time. When the weather warms, spinach and radishes (two cool weather plants) bolt. “Bolting” refers to how the plant spurs on growth, in particular its flowers, seeds, and stalks. Typically lush and leafy plants turn into tall spires (spinach). Others become long tendriled flowery stalks and vines (radish). When they are in this state, they are going to seed. This can be observed easily; the seed pods are obvious if you know what to look for.

At this stage plants do not really produce much else except the seeds and flowers. I try to stop watering once they have developed full seed pods. Since this often occurs with a corresponding increase in hot weather, the plants dry out quickly, and so do the seeds. 

Once the seed pods are dried they can be harvested. It is that simple. Spinach is fairly easy; you can just pull your hand up the main stem, catching the seeds in your palm. Some dried flowers and leaves (chaff) come off with the seeds. It is just a process of just winnowing the chaff from the seeds, which can be done by dropping the seeds from one palm to another while blowing on them softly. 

A nice pile of spinach seed, with some chaff for good measure

 Radishes are a bit more difficult, although not by much. Take the dried seed pods, break them apart, and pick out the seeds aside. Crushing the seed pods and winnowing the chaff may work too, but the seeds tend to really try to stick to the gauzy fiber inside the pods, so I choose to pull them out more carefully.

Radish seeds, still in the pod

Amazingly enough, just a few plants can produce enough seed for the whole garden. Three plants produced more than five times the amount of seed I used to plant all my spinach last winter. While radishes seem to produce less, each pod can contain up to nine or more seeds, which while small, add up quickly.

Since the harvest I am storing the seeds in a cool, dry, dark place. I am actually re-using some of the seed packets for this purpose (those that are able to fit this bounty of seeds, of course). Soon enough they will see light, and hopefully provide more seeds to extend their line. 

Dried radish seed pods and harvested seeds

A note: I attempt to use only heirloom varieties whenever I can in order to keep the chances of seeds becoming hybridized as low as possible. Saving seeds from heirloom varieties increases the chances of a similar plant (especially with some precautions), whereas hybrid plants produce seeds with a lottery of possible outcomes and plants (with aspects from any of its genetic forebears). When planning to save seeds, I suggest to start with heirloom plants, unless you’re looking for some surprises along the way.

How to Make Tomato Cages

I started the Great Tomato Experiment with enthusiasm. But once I put the tomatoes in the ground I followed through just enough to keep them alive. Gardening did not lose its luster. Rather, my son was born! Just his presence was easily enough to distract me from the garden, not to mention the lack of sleep that came along with him. More specifically, you might say I waited weeks to fully support my tomatoes.

That's right. I waited to put in tomato cages.

Tomato cages are important. Without them, your tomatoes will just fall over (I’m so sorry about that, Yellow Pear). Now, falling over is not the worst thing that can happen to tomatoes (right, Yellow Pear?). But, tomato plants growing along the ground are much closer to all the bugs and beasties that may want to get a taste of them, not to mention the increased likelihood of rot with closer proximity to wet earth.

When the poor Yellow Pear plant fell over, I knew I had waited too long. In order to avoid any additional catastrophes with the remaining 10 plants I had to get tomato cages, fast.

Need: 1 roll wire

Imagine my horror, upon arrival at the local hardware and gardening supply shop, when I saw the flimsy build and price of their pre-built tomato cages. With my hoard of 11 tomato plants, it appeared I needed to be prepared to spend a good amount to support them. Donating plants to friends became a serious possibility.

But as often occurs when I encounter prices too steep or items I consider inadequate, I became stubborn, obstinate, and then declared I would do it myself. I bought a roll of Galvanized Wire Fencing for $25 (see left). The wire I bought is meant to be used as fencing to keep rabbits out, but works for tomatoes just fine, not to mention the additional uses available around Easter. When I got home, I started making tomato cages. Making the tomato cages is easy, provided you have a few simple tools. 

You need:

• A roll of wire mesh fencing (easily found at the local hardware store)
• Gloves
• Wire Cutters
• Long Nosed Pliers or a Multi tool*

 

*Note: often long nosed pliers and multi tools (e.g. Leatherman, Gerber, etc.) also have built in wire cutters, making the need for wire cutters obsolete. .

Once you have your roll of wire and your tools, you will need to decide how wide your cages need to be. I eyeballed it and chose 13 “squares” of fencing, which provided me with tomato cages that were approximately 17 inches in diameter. This, of course, can easily be wider if you so choose.

Wire wraps, looking nice

Next, cut the section of wire free from the roll. This can be annoying, as the freed wire springs back and forth with some sharp points. Watch out! While cutting, leave one edge flush. Leave the wire lengths free on the other side so they can be wrapped the edge of the other side when you begin to connect your cage.

To connect the two sides of the cage, use the pliers and begin to wrap the loose wires around vertical lengths of the flush side. This can be done simply and quickly like wrapping a twist tie around the mouth of a bag of bread. Done more carefully, this can look quite nice (see image). As you twist the wire and begin to reach the end, the task becomes more difficult, and the pliers are essential. The last few turns need to be clamped down so that no sharp edges extend out from the cage. Think of yourself in the fall, collecting your tomato cages: The fewer injuries the better!

Tomato cage: Complete!

Continue down the cage until all of the loose wire lengths are secure. Once finished, the cage is often bent out of shape due to the earlier steps. I tend to bounce and roll it a bit into a circular shape, then go through the horizontal segments and try to straighten out the kinks as much as possible. While I am sure the tomato plants don’t mind imperfect cages, I do!

Best of luck, Yellow Pear!

Some people like to stake down their cages, to prevent them from being blown or inadvertently knocked over. This is a consideration to take, depending upon the placement of the plants and the weather in your area. I don’t get a lot of wind here, and the plants are protected between the house and other barriers, so I have not staked my cages. 

Maybe I should stake down that Yellow Pear’s cage, just in case…

The Great Tomato Experiment: Growing Heirloom Tomatoes

The hot, dry summers here in the Sacramento Valley provide the perfect environment to grow the king of summer produce: The Tomato. This is my first year growing tomatoes at the new house, and so I’ve embarked on what I like to call the Great Tomato Experiment. The Great Tomato Experiment consists of a few variables:

Many thanks to Gary Ibsen's Tomatofest!

1.)    To start all of the tomatoes from seeds

2.)    To find what part of the yard encourages the best tomato growth

3.)    To find out which heirloom Tomato is best (for 2012)

4.)    To save the seeds at the end of the season and plant them again next year

In February I started the seeds indoors (variable 1). I placed them in a south facing window and encouraged their growth with a heating pad. Once they became seedlings and the threat of frost had passed, I planted them outside. Aside from the colony of ants that swarmed the rich, warm, indoor soil (likely a paradise vacation for them in February), the first variable of the experiment proved a success.

Now the plants are growing quite nicely. Some sit in direct sun nearly all day, while others are shaded after noon. They are in lawn that I have sheet mulched and raised beds. In total, there are eleven plants, and all are heirloom varieties. These varieties include: Ace 55, Brandywine, Dr. Wyche’s Yellow, Yellow Pear, Bloody Butcher, and Beefsteak.

Brandywine in a sheet mulched lawn bed.

 So far there is no all out winner. The Yellow Pear produced the first fruit, but the Ace 55 has really started to catch up. I have high hopes for the Dr. Wyche plants, for while they did not flourish as seedlings, they have put on a lot of growth recently. The fastest growing plants were those with the most shade.

I purchased all of my tomato seeds through Tomatofest, and so far I am happy with the results. I hope to save seeds and try replanting next year, although I harbor no illusions that they will be anything but hybrids of those I planted this year. I will post an update on the Great Tomato Experiment soon, as the first plant to produce edible tomatoes is still undetermined!

An Introduction

Hello and welcome! My name is Blair, and this is the first post in my blog. Before I begin to share how I am turning my yard into a garden, I want to share some information about myself.

My parents' property from under the apricot tree.

I grew up on an acre and a half in Roseville, California. My parents' property was once part of an almond orchard near the center of town, situated along Linda Creek. While only a few of the almond trees remained by the time I was born, my parents planted a variety of fruit trees where they had once stood.

When I was young, those apples, apricots, plums, peaches, persimmons, and pears were all available for me to snack on as I played. Between the trees rows of other plants grew. Squash, beans, watermelons, carrots, corn, zucchini, tomatoes, and all a manner of other plants carpeted the ground. My memories of summer here in the Sacramento Valley are of swimming, friends, and eating fresh fruit and vegetables from the yard.

My first sheet mulched section of lawn, already green!

Since then, I have grown older. I am married to the wonderful and beautiful wife of my dreams. I have a three month old son whom I love more than anything, ever. I have my own home, with my own yard. And my dream is to turn that yard into a garden. I want my garden-yard to be filled with fruit and vegetables. I want to have as little unused space as possible. I want to take the local food movement and make it the home food movement here, in my backyard. I want to make grass an artifact of another era.

Achieving this dream is, in part, why I created this blog. I hope to share my successes, failures, and any entertaining events I encounter along the way. I will share both my progress here, at my house, as well as at my parents' much larger plot. Really, though, I want this blog to be an ode to nature, to gardening, to the cycle of life, and to those of us who prefer to spend time out in the elements knee deep in mud and elbow deep in compost. Welcome everyone!