What a Difference A Week Makes

So, after the disaster of a few weeks ago (hereafter to be memorialized as the Great Chicken Crisis of Aught Eight) I carefully secured the fencing, top and bottom, moved away the wheelbarrow, and strewed pointy devices along the rock wall to discourage chickens from climbing up and launching themselves over the fencing.

I carefully replanted, and so far so good. All I needed was some heat, and over the past weekend, nature complied. BOY did she comply. Daytime temps went from the mid-60's to almost 90 degrees instantly, and the plants responded. I just happened to take some photos last Friday, I'll take some more tonight and post them. The tomatoes shot up about a foot and have several yellow flowers appearing. The zucchini exploded, and all the bean sprouts I planted have taken off.

The slow poke peppers are finally starting to show some good growth too. The only ones not particularly pleased with the heat are the cukes...I may have to rig up some shade for them. I also need to pick up some fish emulsion, as they must be hungry from all that rapid growth!

Disaster Strikes.

Last night I was in the kitchen, making dinner. I was in a pretty good mood, humming, pots boiling, etc. It was a lovely evening, I had let the chickens out to roam the yard and they were happily eating grass and bugs. Or so I thought.

I look up just in time to see ALL FOUR CHICKENS had somehow got around or over my fencing and were just going to town on my poor vegetable garden. I flipped. I ran out the door screaming, "NO! NO! NO! NO!", hurdled OVER the fencing and started picking up chickens and hurling them back over the fence.

Unfortunately, it was too late. I don't think they were in there for very long, but in a short time they had managed to destroy all my newly sprouted beans, the cucumber seedlings and all but one of the zucchini plants, which had been doing SO well.

I was livid. Livid and heartbroken. I know they were just plants, and I guess I can plant more, but I still can't figure out how the chickens got in there, and there is no point planting more until I can build some better fencing to keep them out. Which means more money and another project I didn't feel like taking on.

Roast chicken is sounding mighty good about now.

A Kind of Magic.

There are few things in life so simple, and yet so incredibly magical and satisfying, as seeing a new green plant come up where once there was only a seed. Its particularly satisfying when you have spent a whole lot of time planting seeds only to have them not come up.

I have to admit, I've not had a whole lot of luck with seeds. I prefer to plant seedlings, which are larger and more tangible and considerably less likely to blow out of your hand by accident. Seeds often tend to be these tiny little barely there units, and I never know how many to plant, where and how deep. Plus, and let's face it, this is a pretty big reason, seeds often have to be planted inside, weeks and weeks before you can put them in the garden. I am nothing if not a "last-minute" sort of girl, and while I realize that planting seedlings is a bit of a cheat, I still feel like at least I am guaranteed some sort of result. Even if its just to watch my poor seedlings die a slow and miserable death.

So when I went out to check on the progress of my newly planted tomato, cucumber and zucchini seedlings and suddenly realized that my bush beans had all of a sudden just popped up, I was overjoyed. It was quite extraordinary: one day there was nothing but a seemingly bare plot of dirt, and the next day there they were! Some were still bent over under the dirt, just about to push their necks up straight and unfurl their first leaves. The more I looked, the more sprouts I saw juuuuuust about to come up. I just stood there for a moment, looking at them and feeling grateful. Each tiny little bowed neck was like an affirmation; of nature and of spring.

I certainly hope to become a more competent gardener, so that it might become more rare for my carefully planted seeds to NOT sprout. I may, in seasons to come, lose some of my wonderment at this incredible transformation.

But I truly, truly hope I don't.

Proof you CAN get carried away.

I know, I know.

On another note, I got a rare "chicken hat trick" the other day.

WANT.

Built in trellis?? Check.

Built in irrigation system with timer? Check.

Bunny (Chicken??) proof meshing? Check.

Stunning good looks?














CHECK. [droooooooooooooooooooooooool]

Gardening 101.

One of the most educational aspects of learning to garden is learning what the plant part of a vegetable looks like. Unless you grow your own vegetables, you may have NO idea what the leaves of a zucchini plant or a tomato plant or broccoli actually look like.

Now, ideally, you'd plant your veggies in nice neat rows, carefully labeled, so that when things DO start sprouting, you can pretty much figure it out because you have several plants all in a row that look the same. That's how I figured out what broccoli looks like, or the carrots (although carrots are pretty easy, since you can often buy them with the tops still on at the store).

But, let's say you had, oh, chickens. Chickens who, despite your best efforts, get past your barriers and into your garden.

[editor's note: well, "best efforts" is an exaggeration. It was a haphazard effort at best. Just face it, you were outsmarted by a chicken.]

Those said chickens could then scatter your poor seeds all over the place and eat up most of them. Surveying the devastation, you assume its all over; that there's nothing left to sprout. So a few weeks later, when you start to see three or four strong green plants with thick dark green leaves you think, hmm. Did I plant that? Or are they weeds?

You decide to watch it for a few more days, and soon, they look like this:

You stare at the plants for a few minutes. They are sort of haphazardly sprinkled around the raised beds. They are definitely not broccoli. Not any sort of lettuce either..and definitely not carrots.

They have to be a weed. So you give one a good yank. Boy its in there good! But you pull harder, and finally up it comes.

The potato you had shoved into the dirt optimistically several weeks ago, and forgot about. Back then it was in a nice neat row. Drat.

So you shove it back down in the dirt and hope it gives you another chance. Or at least, a couple of baby potatoes before its time to plant the tomatoes.

Assuming, that is, that the chickens don't find it first.

I Have Garden Envy

Well, really its more like building envy. I think I have mentioned before that I am extremely NOT handy-capable. I know first graders that can build more permanent structures with legos and play doh than I can with hundreds of dollars in materials.

So it is with extreme jealousy that I viewed my sister's new garden that her extra handy husband built for her a couple of weeks ago. It's pretty much exactly what I'd eventually like my garden to look like.

And doesn't it look chicken proof???

That little garden elf is my niece, by the way. Isn't she freaking adorable?

It's made of some sturdy bamboo poles (how's that for enviromentally friendly?) screwed together and then wire attached. The boxes are made from 2 x 4s and check out the gravel path!

Now I just need to fly my brother-in-law down for the weekend so he can build me the same thing.

In other news, I finally got the coop painted. It still needs the windows cleaned off and the window box attached, but its getting there. Please ignore the ugly blue tarp for now. I need to come up with a more attractive shade/rain cover.