The Garden Addition

We got the garden addition shoveled up today.  George did the majority of the earth moving.  I did help, but mostly mulched the paths with pine straw and jumped up and down with excitement.

Corn!  I can grow corn now!  And sweet potatoes!  And okra!  And cotton!  And more beans!!  And maybe even some luffas!

 

Aaaaannnd done!  Eight new 3'x10' (or so) beds, a big corn bed (I'm standing in it to take the above pic) and 70' of 1' row along the fences.  *Happy veggie dance!!*

 

We also got some tomato supports up.  I really need to just make new tomato cages, taller ones, about 7 or 8 feet tall, and quit dicking around with these pepper cages.  Every year I think I can stack two of them to make a tall enough tomato cage, and every year they grow faster than I can stack.  Oh, well ~ tall t-posts and wire make a good enough support to tie the plants to.  It only has to last another couple months anyway.  Then I'll chop them down to a foot or two tall and let them regrow for fall.

  And the obligatory tomato shots.  This Roma plant has at least 40 tomatoes on it! 

And got the first Juliets today, too.  Here are Sungolds, the orange ones; Juliets, the oblong red ones; and Matt's Wild Cherrys, the teeny little red ones (you can only really see one at the top, but there were a few in there).

Earl's Beans

I have a treasure.

A true Central Texas heirloom

George and I carpool to work most days, but on Sundays we drive in and park near the veggie garden gate.  Since he has to be there a bit before I do, this gives me the chance to linger on my way in.  I noticed the other day that the grounds crew are growing "Earl Hall's 30-Year Beans" in a plot by themselves, marked with a sign giving the story.  An heirloom I've never heard of!  One from this area!  Excitement.

Next time I saw Roger, I asked about them.  He said he had some seed out in the truck and would be glad to give me some, coming back in a little later with an envelope for me.  Serendipity struck ~ Mr. Hall himself came in to the nursery that day and I got to talk to him.  Mr. Hall was only too happy to talk about his beans, so I got the full story.  I strongly feel that an heirloom's history must be preserved as well as possible, so that's what this post is ~ the story of Mr. Hall's beans, Hall's Improved as he calls them. 

Notes I took while talking to Mr. Hall.

Mr. Hall is from North Carlina and has a wife who's not fond of beans.  No matter what kind he tried, she didn't care for them.  Blue Lake.  Kentucky Wonder.  Nope.  And nope.

So his sister sent him some seeds from back home.  He doesn't remember what kind she said they were, if she said, but he grew them anyway.  He noticed that they appeared to be a mish-mash, crossed seed perhaps.  He said some pods were four inches long and flat, some six inches long and round, and some more six inches long and blocky.  But all were half-runners, good for string beans.  And his wife liked them!

So every year since Mr. Hall has grown these beans in his Oak Hill garden, out near Appaloosa run he said, by the Salt Lick.  And he described to me in great detail exactly how he saves seed from them.

First, he grows a separate row for seed saving only.  See, he knows that if you grow beans, pick what you want, then let them go to seed for saving, you're unwittingly culling for late beans and will eventually put yourself out of the bean business.  Smart man, that Mr. Hall.

Then, he culls out small vines and beans.  Once mature, he pulls up the bushes/vines and hangs them in the garage.  He said he does this right before a rain is expected.  He didn't say why, but maybe it's because the humidity in the air helps the vines and beans dry slower so more of the goodness of the vines and pods is absorbed into the beans?  Maybe it's like transplanting on a cloudy day being better for the plants ~ makes it so it's not such a shock to the seeds?  Dunno.  But that's how I'm going to do it, too.

Next, he said he waits for a cold, dry day in winter, takes those dried vines down and shells the seeds.  This makes sense, since it would help ensure the seeds are dry enough for storage.  You're supposed to dry beans 'til they shatter when hit with a hammer, which means the moisture content is low enough so they don't rot in storage.  Bet a couple months in the garage, then shelling on a cold, dry day would do just that.

Lastly, he said he puts them in a jar and in the freezer.  He's careful to label them with the date so he can rotate through them, ensuring he has fresh seed stored so not to lose them.  Another mark of his smartness.

I can't wait to grow these.  I plan to sow a few in the garden addition (if we ever get the paths shoveled out ~ didn't get to Thursday because of the rain, but I'm not complaining!).  I don't care if it seems late.  I'll just plant them in an area that gets evening shade.  Might help them produce even once it gets hot.


And, Mr. Hall, I promise to save them just like you have, and to be generous with giving the seeds to others who want to grow them, along with the full story.  Best way to preserve treasures like this.

I wrote a song.

♪♫ I've got a shittload of Brandywines! ♪♫
♫♪ I've got a shitload of Brandywines! ♪
♫ Oh, I've got a shitload of Brandywiiiiiiiines! ♫
♪ And I'm one dang happy girl! ♪♫

Yesterday, after the rain, I went outside to take pictures and noticed this:

Can you see them?  All those gorgeous Brandywines?  Here, let me help you.

 

 One, two, three, four, five, six, ... 

...seven, eight, nine, ...

 

...ten, eleven, ...

... twelve, ...

 

... thirteen, fourteen, ...

 

... fifteen, ...

 

... sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, ...

 

... nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, ...

 

 ... twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four, ...

... twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight and a half.  Looks like something else likes Brandywines, too.

~*~

Update:  Well, I figured out the mystery of why they're producing so much.  Stick me in a corner with a dunce cap on.

I'd meant to start both pink and Red Brandywines, but apparently only started the Red.  It's really funny because I KNOW pink Brandywines are potato-leaved, yet this whole time I was walking right by the regular-leaved reds and didn't even click.  Doh! *slaps forehead*

But all is not lost.  I did mean to try the Red Brandywine since it's said to be as good as the pink, but more productive (I guess so!).  So far it's turning out just like I read, so if it tastes anywhere close, I've found a new tomato to grow every year.

It's coming...

 

It's here!

 

And it's gone.

Can't you just see the plants' sigh of relief...

A Giant Butterbean in the Garden

One would think a Butterbean in the garden would be a welcome thing.  Not when she weighs 800 pounds.

See the evil in her eyes?  They even glow green when I take a picture of her.  

    

Luckily, she didn't have a taste for beans.  Other than the ones she tromped, they were all left undamaged.  The tomatoes and potatoes fared fairly well also.  Just a few tomato cages knocked off-kilter as she sauntered past to get to the above squash.  I set them upright and it appears all is well.  

This happened Saturday, and the pictures were taken today, so you can see the eaten plants are already starting to grow back.  I was worried about the corn, but I think it'll be okay, too.  Might look funny, but I think it'll come back.  The above squash came back in a few days after having been eaten last time she got in.  I've really got to learn to close the garden gate. *sigh*

First beans

Aren't they beautiful?!  Clockwise from the green ones (Black Valentine), then the purple ones (Royal Burgundy) and lastly the red ones (Red Swan).

We ate the Black Valentines tonight, steamed with bacon, and man are they wonderful.  Sweet and tender.  They really were stringless, too ~ even the more mature ones.  I think they're the top ones so far in the Year of the Bean race.

Update: I boiled up the Red Swan the next night, but got suddenly tired before we ate them, and George forgot to put them up.  So no review of them yet.

My Chicken Tractor

Chickens!  What a wonderful thing to have in the garden.  But only if they're cooped so they don't eat your tomatoes.  Because they will.  The easy solution?  A chicken tractor.

A chicken tractor is a portable, bottomless chicken coop.  They're handy for multiple reasons: if you don't have the room for a full-fledged (get it? *giggle*) coop, if you don't want to let your chickens free range but don't want to take up a ton of space or expense for a fenced run, or if you want to clear an area of noxious weeds.

The latter is why I have one.  I have places in the garden where I'm fighting bermuda.  If you've ever tried to get rid of that stuff, you'll understand perfectly why I say that after a nuclear apocalypse the only thing left will be roaches driving Dodge Darts down roads choked with bermuda.  That stuff is pure evil and it's roots go all the way down to hell.  But it does have an Achilles' heel: shade or chickens!

Before the chicken tractor, one of the only ways I'd ever successfully gotten rid of it was to cover the area with black plastic and leave it on for months (or longer).  I'm not talking about solarizing the soil.  This isn't using heat to kill it since I don't think even 140 degree temps would do it.  It's shading it, taking away the sunlight for an extended period of time.  That does it.  But it takes a long time and black plastic isn't only rather expensive, but it breaks down in the sun after a while, leaving pieces all over the place.  I did try covering it with bark mulch once, but that just added more expense and time.  So this method is very successful and doable, but not quickly or easily so.

Then I found out I could do repeated tillings and rakings.  This would remove as many of the pieces as possible.  I'd need to be vigilant in looking for sprouts and digging them, but that wasn't too bad, and fairly effective.  Since the soil was soft and loose from the tilling, I could fairly easily dig all the pieces out, removing all of it and not leaving any to sprout again.  But this, again, wasn't optimum: it still entailed hooking up the tiller and tilling, and sometimes the bermuda was in places I couldn't get to easily with the tractor.  I still do this, but only on big new easy-to-get-to garden plots.

This year, I'm trying a new way to get rid of some bermuda: sheet mulching.  You put down a thin layer of compost, then cover that with mutiple layers of newspaper and then a layer of cardboard, then top it with either mulch or a raised bed and water it often.  The idea is that the layers shade the bermuda, weakening it, then the beneficial bacteria and fungi in the compost finishes it off.  I did only one layer of cardboard, so I see sprouts in places where the bermuda could get up through the holes in it, but otherwise so far so good.  This might be a good way to start new beds, but I kind of don't like that the soil underneath the new bed won't be tilled. I'm sure it will eventually soften up over the years, but that still seems like a long time.  Plus, what if you want a new bed there, but don't want to build a raised one?  I'd still maybe use this method to kill bermuda in places I don't intend to put a bed.

But enough about bermuda.

When George and I were enlarging and fencing the garden earlier this year, we had to move the chicken coop.  The coop is actually a giant chicken tractor of sorts itself.  It was my first greenhouse made of cattle panels and built to be portable so I could move it when I needed to.  I built a bigger greenhouse, so I decided to cover the old one with chicken wire and use it as a chicken coop.  It worked great not only for keeping the chickens in, but for clearing more area for more gardening space, as you can see in this picture (which is a baby picture of my current garden ~ the chicken coop is sitting in the area where the potatoes currently are).  You can see how I'd moved it over a few times over the course of a few months (I had more chickens then) and tilled.  But after a few years of being out in the weather and moving it around, it'd gotten weak.  So when we moved it this last time, it kind of fell apart.

We couldn't leave the chickens in there, so we moved them to a cage that's been around since I was a kid.  Don't know where Daddy got it originally, or even if Grandma Wall had it first.  But it's so handy!  It's made of metal, so is heavy enough that even a pack of marauding neighbor dogs wouldn't be able to turn it over.  I've used it to hold various animals over the years, and it's where I put out new chicks when they're old enough to be outside, but not quite old enough to be put in with the bigger birds.  It's really cool when I get to do that.  I usually put it just outside my bedroom window so I can keep an eye on them, and on the owls that come to investigate what they hope is an easy snack.  Too cool.

Grass is GONE in the chicken tractor.

Anyway, I decided to put the chicken tractor over a few spots of bermuda I couldn't get the big tractor to.  I didn't feel like dealing with more compost-cardboard-mulch, and quite frankly couldn't afford to spend more on mulch and such that I couldn't use in the garden.  So I thought to put the chickens on those spots and leave them there.

It worked great!  As you can see in the picture at right.  (Notice the hen's caught a grasshopper.  Good girl.)  Since that picture was taken, we've moved the tractor to the right to kill out more of the bermuda that's there, and we'll keep moving it on down 'til they've gotten it all.  I also used it on the sitting spot, clearing out the bermuda and weeds so I could mulch that spot and move in the table and chairs.  Sweet!  And oh-so-easy. 

The way it works is the chickens graze down the grass and other greenery inside the coop, then they constantly eat any sprouts that ... well, sprout from the bermuda rhizomes, weakening them until there isn't any energy left in them.  It doesn't take long.  As a matter of fact, I'd inadvertently put the waterer stand over some bermuda once, shading it completely.  Yet when we moved the chicken tractor later, the bermuda under there was still very much alive.  That showed me that even shading with plastic isn't as quick as a chicken tractor.

A nice side benefit of doing this is that the chickens also get most of the weed seeds so you don't have to deal with them later.  The only weed that popped up again after moving was horse nettle, but hell, even Longhorns can't kill that stuff out.  And still another nice thing about this: chickens poop, so the area you are making into a new garden bed is pre-fertilized.



And I just have to show y'all this.  In a post about birds in the garden.  Found just inside the garden shed door.

Tomatoes Coming Out My Ears!

In honor of the first tomato of the season (a Sungold, seen at right), I thought I'd put up a list of all the tomatoes I'm growing this year.  I went a bit crazy so it's a long list, but I'm hoping to save seeds from the heirlooms to offer for sale as a fundraiser for the Spicewood Pea Patch.

I started out this year starting seeds of my top faves: Brandywine, Cherokee Purple, Mortgage Lifter and Matt's Wild Cherry.  I was going to start another round of a few more heirlooms, but didn't get around to it.  Then the plants started coming in at work.  Uh-oh.

For years, I've wanted to grow more heirlooms to taste-test them for myself.  Some years I actually did grow quite a few, but would get them in so late they didn't produce, or they'd suffer some horrible blight or devastation-by-fence-jumping-cow or ... or ...  You know how it goes.  But us gardeners are an optimistic lot.  This year, I said, This year will be my year!  It's still early!  I can beat the heat!  The mesquites are leafing out and Grandma always said that means no more frost!  I can do this!

So I grabbed a few different kinds and planted them in a second row, next to the already-full one of the seedlings I'd started.  I filled that second row (ten plants) quickly, but kept seeing more kinds I had to have.  So I thought one more row and that's it.  Yeah, right.

Four and a half rows and forty plants later and I still have five to plant.  I'm insane. 

And now, here's the list:

Brandywine! My absolute favorite.

Heirlooms and OPs:
Cherries:
Matt's Wild Cherry ~ I'm about convinced that this is the same as Texas Wild, a currant type found growing on the Texas/Mexico border around 1900, though Johnny's Seeds says it is from a woman who brought it to Maine from her home in Hidalgo, Mexico, then gave it to a university professor named Matt who then gave it to them.  Produces loads of tiny, red, tart tomatoes.  Good acidity.  Found this little ditty on the 'net: "Matt's Wild Cherry! Indeed it is swell; Delicious as ''heaven'', Prolific as hell." *snicker*
Riesentraub ~ German heirloom whose name translates as "giant bunches of grapes", though this isn't a grape tomato. Red fruits are about 1". 
Red Pear ~ Red, pear-shaped, cherry sized tomato an inch or two long. 

Matt's Wild Cherry. George is in love with this one.

Yellow Pear ~ Yellow, pear-shaped, cherry sized tomato smaller than Red Pear.  The color is incredible.  They look like little jeweled Christmas ornaments hanging on the plant.  Incredibly productive, so much so that I get tired of eating them and make salsa from them.  It's gorgeous, all golden yellow with green flecks of jalapenos and cilantro and red onions.


Paste/Plum:
Amish Paste ~ Good for canning or drying. Red-orange plum to oxheart shaped fruits are 8-12 oz. From the Amish near Lancaster, PA.
Principe Borghese ~Determinate.  Red, 1-2 oz. fruits are good for drying, maybe not good for cooking but I'm going to try it.  Italians hang the entire plant, fruit and all, to dry. I think I'll try the oven method: just put them in a barely-on oven for 24 hours, then put in jars or olive oil.
Roma ~ Determinate.  Red, plum shaped, medium sized fruits.  I read somewhere that it can be cut back after harvest and second harvest will be ready in a month or so.  I think I'm going to try that.  A mid-1900s introduction bred from Pan American (descendant of Marglobe), San Marzano and Red Top (possibly a descendant of Italian Red Pear, which may be a San Marzano strain).  Supposedly, I can scald them, slice off one end and squeeze the other to skin them.
San Marzano ~ Indeterminate.  Red, medium sized, longer and more pointed than Roma.  Many sources say this is the quintessential paste tomato for sauce, being widely grown and treasured in and around Naples.  Said to be from Campania region of southern Italy, brought there from Peru in 1770.

Mortgage Lifter, livin' up to it's name.

Slicers:Note: still working on adding descriptions to these.
Arkansas Traveler ~ Medium sized pink tomato.  Supposed to produce well in the heat.  Might actually be Traveler or Traveler 76.
Black Giant ~ Beefsteak type, 6-12 oz. Originally from the Baltics.
Black Krim ~ Beefsteak type up to 12 oz.  From the Isle of Krim in the Black Sea off Russia. Supposed to have a slightly salty taste.
Brandywine ~ Pink beefsteak type up to two pounds. THE heirloom tomato, the one you want if you want that old fashioned tomato flavor.  Seeds offered in 1982 by Seed Savers Exchange who got them from Ben Quisenberry who got them from Doris Sudduth Hill whose family had been growing them for 100 years.
Cherokee Purple ~ One of my faves.  Large, beefsteak type that produces well in the heat.  Seed given to a Tennessee man's family by the Cherokee Indians 100 years ago. 
German Johnson ~ Large, pink beefsteak type up to a pound or more.  Mother of Mortgage Lifter.
Golden Jubilee ~ Yellow beefsteak type around half a pound.  Supposed to be great for juicing and so big that one slice hangs off the sides of your hamburger.
Green Zebra ~ Small (4 oz. or so), striped green tomato that turns slightly yellowish when ripe.  A "created" heirloom, only been around since 1980 or so.

Oxheart from Nancy. They're HUGE already!

Hillbilly Potato Leaf ~ 85 days.  Yellow beefsteak streaked with red on the blossom end.  Up to a pound.
Kellogg's Breakfast ~ 85 days.  Orange beefsteak, 1-2 lbs. or more.  West Virginia heirloom. Described as the color of orange juice and suposed to be very meaty with few seeds.
Japanese Black Triefle ~ Triefle=truffle.  74 days.  8-10 ounce pear-shaped, deep purple-black tomato with green shoulders.  Russian tomato despite the name.
Mortgage Lifter ~ 82 days.  Huge pink beefsteak, 1-2 lbs. or more. Meaty with few seeds.  The full name is Radiator Charlie's Mortgage Lifter and there's a great story behind it.
Old German
Oxheart
Persimmon
Silvery Fir Tree
Snow White
Striped Cavern
Striped German
Yellow Belgian Giant
Variegated

Gold Jubilee

Hybrids:
 Defiant ~ Every time I think of this one, I imagine a fat little red tomato shaking it's fist at me and saying, "You want a piece of me?!"  Why, yes. Yes, I do. 
Juliet ~ A red grape tomato that customers at the Natural Gardener have raved about for years, so I had to try it.
Sungold ~ Another one customers have raved about, but this one's an orange cherry.
Viva Italia ~ A paste tomato that I probably won't grow again since it's owned by Seminis Seeds, who in turn are owned by Monsanto.
Solar Fire ~ F1, unfortunately, but maybe I'll try to stabilize it one day.  Determinate. Red, medium sized fruit.  Produces well in the heat.

A couple of these I haven't even planted yet, but hope to this Thursday when we get the addition to the garden ready for planting.  Garden addition?  Yeah.  I ran out of room. Don't judge me! ;)  I'd already planned on "The Year of the Bean", where I'd try many different kinds of beans to find the perfect one, so that was going to take up a lot of room already.  So when I went a bit crazy on the tomatoes, it took up most of the rest of it.  No room for corn, sweet potatoes or black eyed peas!  Must. Be. Fixed.

Two of the ones I haven't planted yet (Snow White and Defiant) were grown by Judge Harley Clark, a wonderfully interesting man who worked with us at the Natural Gardener weekends this spring.  He was our tomato expert, dispensing advice on vegetables in general.  I learned a lot from him, like how to recognize Early Blight and other tomato problems.  I was rather let down to hear that his last day was this past Sunday, but he'll still be bringing us transplants, so I'll get to see him again.  And hopefully they'll bring him back when it's planting time again.

Cherokee Purple. Yum!

An oddity: Variegated Tomato.

Water Chestnuts Update

About a month ago, I posted a picture in this post of my newly sprouted water chestnuts.  Well, they're growing like weeds!  Most of them are a foot tall or more already.  I'm impressed with how well they're doing.  From what I understand, they'll shoot out "daughter" plants once they get big enough and those will fatten up before frost.  I'll need to feed them a lot of manure before then so they'll have enough ooomph to get there.

Just before frost is when I'll dig them.  I'll separate the biggies from the smallies, saving the biggies in the fridge for replant and eating the smallies.  I think I might leave a few in the pond all winter to see how they do.

They're kind of plain looking as far as water plants go, though if you look closely you can see the interesting stripes at the base of each reed.  I may grow some in the koi pond in the plant bucket anyway.  They might look good in front of the umbrella papyrus, thalia and Louisiana iris ~ a different texture.

Better get the wok ready!

Interesting stripes on the bottom of the reeds.

UPDATE: Well, between the drought and the cows tearing them up, I lost them.  I need to look at Newflower again for more, and maybe the Asian grocery stores up north, to try this again.  I recently found another source online, too, so even if I can't find them locally, I'll be able to try them again this year.