Written By Teresa Howell |

Beth came out for coffee early one frosty morning, back in December.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I don’t have even a slice of fruit cake to go with it. I’m feeling a bit like Scrooge this year, and I haven’t gotten the Christmas baking spirit yet.”

“Well, get ready for it,” she said. “I think I saw the Ghost of Christmas Past out in your yard. But in this frosty fog, it might have been my headlights on that crabapple tree you planted last summer. I’m surprised at how big it is.”

“Crabapples grow pretty fast,” I reminded her.

“For most people they do,” she said. “I’ve been meaning to ask; have you been keeping up with your winter watering schedule?”

“Have some more coffee,” I said.

Beth was talking about one of the trees I’d gotten from the plant sale one of the 4-H clubs holds in conjunction with the county extension office here. The plants they sell are designed to withstand conditions in the West.

Caragana (also called Siberian pea shrub), Austrian pine, Russian olive, and some species of juniper, elm, cottonwood and crabapple take heat, cold, drought and often even poor soil. These are good trees for those of us who practice laissez faire gardening.

Some species of cottonwood and juniper are native to the Western United States, and do well here because they’ve evolved here. But many of the species of trees and shrubs that thrive in our area come from northeastern Asia, which is why they have “Russian” or “Siberian” somewhere on the plant tag.

I’ve noticed that some of the catalogs geared to the West offer an increasing number of plants from that part of the world. Next year, I’ll be planting some of them, including goumi. Its scientific name, elaeagnus multiflora, indicates that it’s related to Russian olive (elaeagnus angustifolia), and our native buffalo berry is a more distant relative. The catalog says that the fruit tastes like pie cherries. I’ll let you know how they turn out.

I’ve had good luck with the Russian trees I planted last spring. One of them was the Siberian crabapple which scared Beth. I also planted some Russian olives farther out, in the hopes that they’d grow into a windbreak. When I planted them, I watered them well. A week or two later, I put in a drip system, and I watered them once a week or so, but I didn’t pay them much attention other than that.

A month and a half later, I noticed that one of the Russian olives was yellowing. Investigating further, I noticed that I hadn’t hooked the drip system to that tree. It’s stunted, but it’s still alive.

Despite their tough nature, even these trees will appreciate a bit of winter moisture, and that could be the factor that allows more civilized trees to survive in this country. Especially in dry winters, trees need to be watered at least once a month if there’s no moisture.

Water early in the day, particularly if it’s going to be cold, since if the water freezes, it can damage the roots. Trees should be watered so that the soil is moist to a depth of about twelve inches. If it’s really a dry year, it wouldn’t hurt to water more deeply once in a while.

Which reminds me, I’d better hydrate my trees right now. Otherwise, that cute little Siberian crabapple might be a real ghost next Christmas.

When Teresa Howell is not neglecting her trees, she teaches English at Great Basin College.

Written By Teresa Howell |

The year: 1908, or thereabouts. The place: Watauga, a soon-to-be born town at the end of the railroad line in South Dakota. The actors: Fred, John and Art Nehl, my great grandfather and his brothers. The task before them: sow the garden they’d tilled out of virgin sod before their wives arrived on the train from Iowa.

Unfortunately, the Nehl boys got into a jug of whiskey. They didn’t want to let work interfere with the fun, so they put all the seeds their wives had sent them in a broadcast seeder, seeded the patch, raked it a bit, and then broke out the second jug.

That garden was the best they ever grew.

Fast forward sixty years. Not far from that original patch, my parents were working in their own garden. My father, whose true passion was his team of Shetland ponies, had spent the past winter fabricating a cultivator he could use with his team. He’d instructed my mother as to the precise width of the rows, and thought he could cut a day’s worth of weeding down to an hour.

My parents still haven’t determined whether my mother’s crooked rows or my father’s crooked charioteering caused the resulting mayhem, but when he finished cultivating, only half the plants were standing.

The moral of these two stories, taken together:  tidy rows are out, mixed beds are in.

Tidy rows have only been “in” for a short while, historically speaking. When people started farming with machines, they soon learned machines worked best with rows of a single type of crop. The new method of farming was so efficient the model was soon applied in the vegetable patch.

Gardening in rows does have its advantages. Harvesting is easier. You want peas? Go to the pea patch. No need to stumble over the whole garden looking for supper.

My great grandfather’s scatter-shot approach has its benefits as well. It makes more efficient use of space. By the time early crops like lettuce and radishes are done, slower maturing beets and tomatoes need the room. Because plants are closer together, weeds don’t have as much room to grow.  Plants also shade the soil, so less water evaporates.

Some experts claim mixed bed plantings can even confuse pests, so that the potato bugs can’t find the potatoes. Add a few marigolds, and some host plants for beneficial insects, and the bugs are further confused.

However, you’ll probably want a better approach to your mixed beds than “drink a quart of whiskey.” You’ll have to plan the layout of the beds, and–here’s the hard part–construct them. Experts say you should make your beds no wider than four feet, so that you can easily reach the middle of the bed. You’ll need clearly defined paths so people don’t compact the soil by walking where they shouldn’t. The soil itself will need the same amendments that any garden needs.

You’ll also need to decide which crops you’ll plant together. One source claims that you should divide crops up by family. Related plants often have the same diseases, and grouping them allows you to rotate crops more efficiently. Once you have your plant “clans” established in their own bit of turf, you can add “friends” of the family. These are plants that deter pests or help the family out in some way. If you are interested, there are books available about companion planting.

Another method of planning is to let tradition be your guide. Southwestern Indians typically planted corn, squash and beans, together. The “three sisters,” as they were called, helped each other out. Beans provided nitrogen for the heavy-feeding corn, and the corn supported the climbing beans. Squash formed a living mulch, preserving water and shading the soil.

The whiskey you’ll have to get on your own, but, you’ll find valuable information at winngarden.org.

When Teresa Howell isn’t finding new methods of planting, she teaches English at Great Basin College.

Written By Teresa Howell |

My daughter Lindsey and I were taking a walk with Beth the other day, looking at the way people had decorated for Halloween. Some of the comments Lindsey made seemed to be drawing an unfavorable comparison between my décor and that of the neighbors.

“Hey,” I said. “I’ve nearly every element in my yard that we’ve seen so far, except the scarecrow.”

“Your yard is pretty scary,” Beth said. “And you do so have scarecrow. I’m sure I saw one the other day in your yard, wearing a shabby straw hat, tattered jeans, and an old shirt that flapped in the wind. It had a bit more straw than usual, though.”

“I think that was Mom,” Lindsey said.

Martha Stewart probably wouldn’t approve of my garden attire, and she definitely wouldn’t approve of my current garden décor, although it is true that I’ve all of those characteristic fall elements. The difference is in the arrangement.

In the typical yard, you’ll see bales of hay, with elaborately carved pumpkins arranged on and around them, perhaps nestled into piles of colorful autumn leaves. You’ll find cornstalks tied in neat shocks, and fake cobwebs arranged artistically on porch railings.

My pumpkins, and the rest of my winter squash, are mostly stashed in a cool closet, but I had a bumper crop this year. As the leaves died back, I discovered delicatas and kabotas and even pumpkins that I overlooked when I gathered them just ahead of the first big frost. The damaged ones I’ve left in the garden. If you squint, some of those cracks do look like carvings.

I’ve got plenty of fall leaves, too, although most of mine are more crunchy brown instead of orange, yellow, and red. The squash and beans are pretty desiccated by now, and the rest of the garden is only waiting for a really hard freeze to add to the general shabby air.

I’m thinking I can keep my “décor” in place until after Thanksgiving. Then I’ll have to clean up. The squash I’ll dole out to the chickens, and I’ll compost the leaves. Garden litter can harbor disease, and squash bugs overwinter as adults in debris. I’ve already killed a few of them when I moved some plywood.

The cornstalks I’ll pile in a corner somewhere. I don’t have a chipper, and cornstalks take a long time to deteriorate in compost. However, I plan to use them as mulch under my tomatoes and beans next year. I fought fungus with my beans this summer, and those stalks might keep the beans up off the dirt, and away from fungal spores. It’s worth a try.

My straw isn’t neatly baled; most of it is still on the potatoes. I use my potato patch as a lazy woman’s way to expand the garden. I just rough up the soil a bit if it’s compacted, and spread manure on it, and then a thick layer of straw, and I plant the potatoes under the straw, directly on the manure. I make sure that I put in a few earthworms, and they, and the straw mulch, do the work of tilling the soil.

I’ll either turn the straw under, or just move it aside and plant squash or corn. Much of it is already rotten, and the top layer that isn’t will mulch next year’s crop, even as it continues to rot and enrich the soil.

My favorite part of gardening is when the easy thing to do is also the right thing to do.

The fake cobwebs in my yard are actually strips of floating row cover I tied on PVC hoops which spanned my tomatoes. Although they may have looked a little tacky, at least until the Halloween season legitimized them, they shaded the tomatoes. Now that the weather is frosty, I’ll throw blankets and more row cover over those hoops. As long as the weather holds, I can still harvest tomatoes. Meanwhile, I can’t take off the strips I attached earlier, because the blankets cover them.

I’m covered on garden clean-up until after Thanksgiving. If I can think of a way to use the debris as Christmas decoration, I can put it off until after the first of the year.

Hey–they have straw in mangers, don’t they? I think I’m on to something.

A gardener in Nevada faces many challenges. Beautiful spring days coax fruit trees into bloom, just in time for a hard freeze to cancel the crop. In July and August, the sun sucks the juice out of the hardiest plants. Wind-borne sand strips paint off houses and leaves off plants. Drought and Mormon crickets get anything left.

But Nevada gardeners can count on one thing–the purity of the soil. It’s either pure sand or pure clay, unless you’re lucky enough to be in one of the low-lying basins where salt and alkali collect.

Oddly enough, the cure for either sand or clay is the same: organic matter. Clay soil will hold water and nutrients much better than sandy soil, but it often lacks drainage, and dry clay compacts into brick. Organic material helps aerate the soil and adds “tilth,” that springiness in good soil. Sandy soil drains a little too well, and soil nutrients tend to leach away with the water. Organic material helps hold water and nutrients near the roots of the plant.

There are several ways to add organic material to the soil. You can add composted kitchen and yard waste. You can grow a “green manure” crop of clover, buckwheat, or something else, and till it under. I’ve heard that if you spend a season repeatedly tilling in green manure, the next year you’ll have wonderful soil.

We didn’t have enough time to use either of the above methods on this year’s garden. That left us two options, peat moss or manure. Nevada is low on peat bogs, but we have lots of manure.

Early this spring, I took possession of several pick-up loads of goat manure. Manure is like wine; it improves with age, and this stuff was vintage; at least two years old. It was wonderful stuff, dark and crumbly.

We spread it on the beds shortly after we got it. Since the garden is new, we spaded on about four inches and worked it in well. Next year, we probably won’t need to use quite as much.

I need to interject a warning about handling manure in a garden:  it’s a job that’s best done alone. Working with manure lends itself to all sorts of unsuitable jokes, which I can not repeat here. It’s very hard to shovel manure when you’re doubled over, laughing.

Wise gardeners know their manure, or at least where it comes from. Some manure, especially fresh manure, can be high in salts, particularly if the animals had extra salt in their diet. Organic gardeners may not want to put manure from animals which were given antibiotics or hormones.

The bedding material may affect the manure, especially fresh. Straw and sawdust eventually add nitrogen, but while they are decomposing, they will actually use it. However, any urine in the manure will provide a boost of immediately available nitrogen, although at the risk of burning crops.

Not all manure is alike. Bat guano is one of the best. In England, where gardening and literature both thrive, bat dropping or guano, imported from British colonies in the Pacific, was a big industry in the earliest days of the twentieth century. It was so important that a guano mine has a place in the British literary classic, Lord Jim.

Those of us not blessed with colonies in the Pacific need to find other options. Chicken manure has a very high nitrogen content, so it will burn crops if it’s added fresh, but aged, that same high nitrogen content is a boon.

Small round droppings, like those from rabbits or goats, make excellent fertilizer. They are high in nitrogen and don’t usually contain weed seeds. It should be aged, though.

Llama manure, my friend Becca attests, doesn’t need to be aged at all, and can go on the garden still steaming. Llamas also oblige by making their all their deposits in one place, so the stuff is easy to find.

Horse and steer manure are roughly equivalent in nutrients, but steer manure must be aged, while horse droppings can be added fresh, according to some sources. However, with their four stomachs, no weed seed can survive a trip through a cow. On the other hand, a horse’s digestive system treats those same seeds so well that they’re not only still viable, they’re surrounded by fertilizer to help them get a good start.

Proper composting will cook those weed seeds, so although you could put fresh road apples on your crops, you might not want to. In any case, the county extension publication, “Basic Composting,” available at www.winnegarden.org, recommends that all manure be composted well before it is used on food crops.

A bit of scouting should lead to several good supplies of manure–feed lots, fairgrounds, or neighbors with animals. I’d love to help you shovel it, but manure brings out my barnyard sense of humor. I’d hate to interfere with your work.

When Teresa Howell isn’t enjoying the comical side of gardening, she teaches English at Great Basin College in Winnemucca.

Travel in the summer is dangerous for me. This year, as I drove through Fallon in the middle of July, my car developed a mysterious pull to the left, and came to a complete stop in front of Workman’s Nursery, where plants were on sale at half price.

Three flats later, I managed to get the car back on the road, only to need another emergency stop at Flower Tree Nursery, where six gallon-sized pots finally stabilized the car enough to make it home.

Like sufferers of any other addiction, those of us who buy plants face the consequences the next day, when we sober up. In this case, the consequences were pretty dire. Temperatures were slated to be in the hundreds for the foreseeable future. I also wanted to set some of the plants on the west side of the house, on bare, compacted dirt where I’d mixed lime plaster the summer before. Until I saw some weeds coming in, I’d assumed the soil was sterile.

Fortunately, I have enough self-control to buy tough plants. I’ve convinced a few friends that I’m a good gardener simply by choosing plants that are impossible to kill. But even my tough plants were going to need a little tender care to survive these conditions.

As soon as I got them home, I watered my new acquisitions well and put them in a shady place. Even the toughest plants in pots appreciate a little shade in hot weather, especially if they are root-bound, as many of these were.

I planted in the evening. I know conventional wisdom says to plant in the morning, but I wanted to give the plants as much time to adapt as possible before the extreme heat hit. I dug the holes wider than the plants, and just a bit deeper, so that I could leave a little well around the plants.

This next step is extreme, and it makes my gardening mother wince when she sees me do it, but it usually works for me. I untangle the roots, gently if possible, and roughly if necessary–and it’s usually necessary. If the roots spiral around, the plant may live for a while, but it will usually die. I’ve occasionally taken half the roots, and had the plant do just fine.

I’m a cheapskate, so I often buy perennials like columbines in six-packs. They’ll sometimes be so root-bound that the small root-hairs form a cloth around the root-ball. When that happens, I scratch the roots with the little plastic tag that comes with the plants, working from the bottom of the root up toward the plant, until I’ve gotten most of the cloth off.  Otherwise, those roots will actually resist water.

Then I spray as much of the potting soil off the roots as I can, even when the plant isn’t root-bound at all. Although it’s fine to amend the soil for annuals and garden vegetables, I never do for perennials or trees. Unless the plant is unusually vigorous, the roots will have a tendency to stay in that nice pocket where living is easy, because of the difference in soil structure between the planting hole and the surrounding soil. This is particularly true if you’ve been parking your truck on that surrounding soil, as I’d been doing.

After I dig the hole, I put a little water in it. When that’s drained out, I spread my roots out in the hole, making sure to keep those roots moist at all times.  I fill the hole halfway with the dirt from the hole, and water thoroughly. I fill the rest of the hole with the native soil. Then I top dress with manure or compost, and water once again.  Food for the plant will leach down with the water.

For the first days after I set out new plants, I always water morning and night, and if it’s really hot, I’ll water during the day as well. Despite conventional wisdom, it’s fine to water plants during the heat of the day. Especially on new plants, I’ll often give them a little bit of a bath to give them a break from the heat. I do want to make sure that the plant itself is dry when the sun goes down, to prevent fungus.

The plants I’d chosen were double-tough; agastache, catmint, lavender, sedums, gaura, and groundcover veronicas and snow-in-summer, and some snapdragons. But most of these plants had major surgery on their roots–and the thermometer was hitting the hundreds.

Fortunately, I’d been to Poke-and-Peek the week before, and I’d cleaned them out of flat sheets. So I gathered up lawn chairs, buckets, sawhorses, and whatever else I could find to hold the sheets up off the plants. I draped sheets over the supports. The sheets allowed some filtered light in, and when it got hot, I sprayed them down with water.

The air under the wet sheets was twenty or thirty degrees cooler than the outside air. I know–I checked. I checked for at least thirty minutes.

I kept waiting for someone to ask why I had sheets in the yard. I planned to lift one eyebrow, cool-like, and say drily, “Well, it is a flowerbed.” But nobody asked. I hate when I waste a good joke.

All the plants survived, except one snapdragon that my nephew Bobby backed over. But then, you have to expect a little death loss when you set out plants in the middle of July.  Especially if you set them out in what used to be the driveway.

When Teresa Howell isn’t hitting the sheets, she teaches English at Great Basin College in Winnemucca.

My friend Dixie made me a gift of two grape vines, and a few days later, she stopped by to check up on them. Dixie is a teacher, and realizes the importance of monitoring a wayward pupil. She approved my efforts, and we moved to the shade for a chat.

“You know,” she said, “you could use some support. I recommend panty hose. They’ll keep things up where they belong.”

“Nobody wears pantyhose these days,” I countered.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “I have some I can give you that would be perfect for your needs. They’d allow for growth, and wouldn’t pinch tender limbs. Plus, they’re nearly invisible.”

“I don’t care how they look,” I mumbled, “and you’ll never convince me they don’t pinch. Thanks, but I’m not interested.”

I didn’t say it, but I knew I’d never fit into anything Dixie wore. I’m not sure what size she wears, but I think it’s not much more than the square root of mine.

A day later she stopped by with a batch of old knee-highs. I’d cobbled together a trellis with steel t-posts and willow branches for the vines, and Dixie showed me how to tie the vines to the trellis using the pantyhose. Sure enough, they didn’t pinch, the way the garden twine I used before did. I had to prune off a bit of vine that broke where the wind abraded it against the support.

Dixie has seen me searching for my reading glasses often enough to know my organizational skills, or lack thereof, so she told me I should remember where I put my pruners because I’d need them this winter to prune the grapes.

Many grape varieties are vigorous growers, and some very old vines can cover the better part of an acre. It takes lots of room and careful management to keep a vine of that size in order. Grapes produce on wood from the previous year, and if too much of the previous year’s wood is left, the crop will be heavier than the vine can feed, resulting in small, sour grapes. Some experts recommend pruning off up to ninety percent of the year’s growth.

There are lots of different ways to train grapes. Growers will need to take into account their own skill level, growing conditions, and their own preferences in determining how to prune. Not surprisingly, the easiest methods don’t result in the highest yield. The Internet or the local county extension office can give you information on methods of pruning.

Unlike fruit trees, grapes won’t heal after you prune them, so care has to be taken not to leave a wound that might allow pathogens in. Partially because of this, grapes are subject to a variety of fungal diseases. Many of these diseases can be prevented by properly disposing of pruned branches and general cleanliness.

Pests include several varieties of caterpillars, leaf-hoppers, and mites. Organic controls are available for many of these pests, and lady-bugs, dragonflies, and wasps can help with control.

Dixie is a wise friend, so she chose for me two varieties that will do well here in the high desert. We need grapes that can stand short seasons, cold winters, hot summers, alkali, and drought. Most reputable nurseries know and carry well-adapted species and can help you select a grape that will suit your needs, whether you’re after wine or fruit.

Although some sources I consulted suggest grapes are “heavy feeders,” in trials, UNR included a small amount of fertilizer at planting, and none thereafter, with excellent results. After all, grapes grow in Greece, which is scarcely known for its fertile soil. Just to be on the safe side, I mulched mine with manure, as I did the four vines I planted previously.

Which brings me to the one thing I know about grapes for sure–they are tough. I planted those four grapevines three springs ago. I gave them a little supplemental water, but they didn’t seem to be doing much.

The next spring, when nothing came up, I ignored them, except for trying to pull out one of the protruding stalks. It didn’t give, so I added “dig up grape plants” to my steadily growing to-do list. Then in mid-June, three of the vines popped up out of bone-dry ground: a Candice, a Himrod, and another variety. Only the fourth, a type that’s marginal in our area, died.

This year, their third summer in the ground, the Candice, which is the least vigorous, is growing nicely, and the other two will give me a few little bunches of grapes. Despite its unfortunate name, Himrod will be my best producer. It is an excellent grape for our area.

So are the two that Dixie brought me. If the Thompson Seedless she gave me performs up to expectations, I may have to take up wearing pantyhose.

When Teresa Howell isn’t playing dress-up with her plants, she teaches English at Great Basin College in Winnemucca, Nevada.

References:
1. www.bunchgrapes.com

2. http://www.omafra.gov.on.ca/english/crops/facts/03-039.htm

Written By Teresa Howell |

When my friend Pam Leach was halfway through the garden tour I require of all my guests, she asked if I’d seen the wasp.

I was in the midst of a monologue on the distinction between determinate and indeterminate tomatoes, and I thought Pam might want to change the subject. My daughters have explained to me that I can become tiresome on certain topics.

I’m not a fan of science fiction, but I played along.

“Isn’t that the sequel to The Fly? I haven’t seen it, but the first one was one of my daughter’s favorite movies.”

“Movie? What movie? I’m talking about the thread-waisted wasp. It’s a type of solitary hunting wasp,” she said, pointing.

She was indicating a slender black wasp astride what appeared to be a dead cutworm. The worm was several times the weight of the wasp, but the wasp dragged it along at a pretty good clip, holding the prey with its front legs and propelling itself with its back legs.

I hate cutworms, and wasn’t about to feel sorry for it, not even when Pam explained that the cutworm wasn’t dead. The wasp had paralyzed it with a few well-placed stings, and she (it’s always a she doing this work) would drag it to a hole she’d prepared, lay a single egg on it, and seal the cradle–or the tomb, depending on where your sympathies lie.

But wait–there’s more. Pam says her research suggests the hard-working wasp is often followed by midges. The wasp tries to fight them off, but while she’s busy spiffing up the hole she’s provided for her egg, the quick midges often sneak in and lay their own eggs on the cut worm. The midge eggs hatch first, and consume so much of the cutworm that the wasp larva, which must have living food, starves to death.

After mating, my wasp will spend her entire life this way, providing each egg with its own little hole and its own cutworm, which she often drags several yards. I wondered if I might need to do a little more for my own children when they go out into the world, my current plan being to give each of them a ham sandwich wrapped in a road map.

Thread-waisted wasps differ from more commonly known wasp species like yellow-jackets. Most of them live solitary lives, and they’re food purists. Most species predate one species of insect; some choose grasshoppers, some caterpillars, and so on. The social wasps get sloppy in their eating habits; although they do eat some of the pests we’d like to get rid of, they also go for carrion and garbage.

Perhaps it makes sense to get rid of the nests of the social wasps. They’re much more aggressive and pack a painful sting. The solitary hunting wasps don’t sting, at least not unless they’re handled, but I’d put up with a sting or two to have a few of them on pest patrol in my backyard.

I’m doing what I can to keep these busy little gals around. They’re just one more reason I avoid pesticides–especially broad-spectrum pesticides–in my garden.

Like bees, to which they’re related, wasps appreciate a little drink now and then, so it’s good to have some water available for them. They’re small, so they don’t need much; mine have thrived on irrigation water, plus a drip or two from leaky hoses and faucets.

I can also provide food for them. Thread-waisted wasp moms, like many other beneficial insects and even human mothers, cook one meal for their children and a different one for themselves. Adult thread waisted wasps are vegetarians, subsisting on a sip of dill nectar there, a bite of a yarrow pollen salad there. Maybe that’s how they keep those tiny waists.

Many of the flowers they feed on are easy to grow. They like dill, cilantro, alyssum, sedum, marigolds, and dandelions. They’re particularly attracted to plants with clusters of small flowers.

Really, keeping these solitary wasps around is more a matter of not doing than doing. I’ll not apply pesticides. I’ll not fix leaky hoses. I’ll not try to grub out every dandelion; I’ll plant lots of easy care flowers, and let the dill and cilantro take over the herb bed.

I can use the time I save to watch these fascinating little critters. It’ll be as good as that sequel to The Fly.

References:

1. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sphecidae

2. http://www.insectidentification.org/insect-description.asp?identification=Common-Thread-Waisted-Wasp

3. http://www.ext.colostate.edu/pubs/insect/05525.html

4. http://www.spokesman.com/stories/2009/apr/19/use-predator-insects-to-help-control-pests/

When Teresa Howell isn’t discussing movies, she teaches English at Great Basin College in Winnemucca.

Special thanks to Pam Leach, who knows her bugs!

Written By Teresa Howell |

These late spring days, my sister Beth and I often have coffee on the side porch by my flower garden. It usually smells fresh this time of year.

“It’s always windy around your place,” Beth commented. “You should do something about it. It’s not good for the plants.”

“I don’t like to take antacids. Besides, it’s a natural process, and it’s simply hyperbole that it can kill plants or strip paint or any of that other stuff.”

Beth looked puzzled. “It must be blowing twenty miles an hour. See those branches whipping? You know that’s not good for your garden.”

Oh.

She’s right about the wind at my house. She lives in town, where buildings and fences shield plants from the brunt of the wind. But I live out in sagebrush suburbia, where houses are separated by several hundred feet, and the neighbors’ fences and trees aren’t close enough to do much but funnel the wind my direction.

That wind can do considerable damage. A study at the Panhandle Agricultural Experiment Station in Oklahoma found average decrease in yield of grain crops exposed to strong winds to be almost fifteen percent. The study noted that the damage wasn’t caused by a lack of water (although wind does cause considerable moisture loss), but probably from leaf destruction and energy going to tissue repair rather than production.

The same study suggests that wind can cause deformed plants, and can delay crop maturity. This last is no small factor in the short growing season here in the high desert.

In our dry conditions, the wind-whipped sand that strips paint off your house won’t do your cucumbers any favors either. It abrades the skin of plants, allowing even more moisture to evaporate. If the wind does stop blowing, dust on the plants interferes with respiration and photosynthesis.

Beth is right. My plants need protection.

A first line of defense is proper choice of garden location. My worst winds come from the south, so the north sides of buildings get some protection. Unfortunately, most of my sensitive plants are on the south side of the house.

As a more permanent solution, I’ve planted some shrubs and trees on the south and west sides of my garden. I like a more natural look, so I staggered them in a seemingly random pattern, being careful to locate trees with thirsty roots further back. They won’t be large enough to be of much use for a few years, and in the interim, other options are available, depending upon budget and aesthetics.

The cheapest solution is to use one plant to shelter another. Last year, I planted corn in a wide arc around the garden. Once it was high enough, it was a creditable windbreak. The year before, I used sunflowers. However, the need to rotate crops limits those options. Garden design is a bit like the logic puzzle where you have a fox, a chicken, and a bag of grain to row across a river, and you can only take one at a time.

The budget vs. aesthetics battle heats up when it comes to a fence. I’d love a dry-stacked stone wall around my garden. There are more than plenty of rocks in the country, but my back won’t take the DIY route, and my budget won’t take the contractor route.

A screen made of bamboo or willow would be quite a bit less expensive, and still attractive. Or I could build a rail fence, and cover it with grapevines.

Out here in sagebrush suburbia, I can get away with going very low budget, with a resulting dip in snob appeal. I can use snow fence, or even anchor a few wooden pallets with steel posts.

Tacky? Maybe. But in any case, it will protect my garden. And if I’m lucky, it will leave just enough of a breeze to waft away any unintentional odors.

References:

1. http://digital.library.okstate.edu/oas/oas_pdf/v09/p24_27.pdf

2. http://aggie-horticulture.tamu.edu/vegetable/vpm/vpmjan97.pdf

3. http://www.wfpn.net/leaflet_02_planning.html

When Teresa Howell isn’t being windy, she teaches English at Great Basin College in Winnemucca, NV.

The mint family is varied and versatile, with a volume of hardy perennial plants. Whether used as a culinary delight, or a simple home remedy, members of the mint family are sure to be refreshing, giving you an enhanced feeling of vim and vigor. Most of us are familiar with the widely popular peppermint, and its cousin spearmint; but there are many other interesting members of the mint family.

Peppermint not only makes for a delicious addition to sweet treats, but is also a gentle, yet effective medicinal tea used for a host of common ailments. It aids in digestion, relieves upset stomachs and prevents flatulence. No wonder after dinner mints are served. Peppermint tea is helpful in relieving menstrual cramping, discomforts of cold and flu, and insomnia. Peppermint oil may be applied to the temples for a headache, or added to bath water for sore muscles. The oil can also be applied to an aching tooth, or used to prevent bad breath. Crushed mint leaves will also soothe an insect bite, or bee sting.

Spearmint and Curly mint are the most commonly used culinary mints. The flavor is milder than that of peppermint, enhancing meat and vegetable dishes alike. These  two mints compliment eggplant, white beans, black beans, lentils, cracked wheat salads, fruit salads and beverages, creamy vegetable soups, peas, carrots, cabbage, potatoes, lamb, jellies, sauces, candies, and of course, chocolates.

Chocolate mint does not actually taste or smell like chocolate, but the flavor reminds one of an after-dinner chocolate mint, and perhaps its dark, purple tinged leaves, aide in the suggestion. Not only does this mint especially pair well with chocolate, it is a nice addition to black teas and sweet breakfast pastries, such as banana bread.

Apple mint and the white-egged lacy leaves of pineapple mint have subtle fruity notes. They are especially good choices for fruit beverages, salads, cream cheese and yoghurt. Corsican mint is often reputed to have the truest “mint” flavor, and is traditionally used to make crème-de-menthe.

Bergamot mint has a sharp citrus flavor, famous for its contribution to Earl Grey tea. Its essential oil has a bright, uplifting aroma; a popular ingredient in soaps and perfumes, earning it the nickname, “eau de cologne mint.” Pennyroyal is the black sheep of the mint family. Its uses are mostly designated for medicinal purposes. Because of certain contraindications of Pennyroyal, especially those that recommend against its ingestion by pregnant women, it is the only member of the mint family that should not be taken without consulting a professional who is qualified to dispense herbs.

Members of the mint family are easy to grow, so easy in fact that they will take over the whole yard before you know it. They are best suited for container gardening, and will do well both indoors and out. They are a cold, hardy zone five plant, and can only be propagated by cutting or division of roots.

Below are a few recipes to refresh and revitalize you in the coming hot months. Experiment with the different varieties of mint and discover this family’s surprising diversity. These beverage recipes can be adapted to include alcohol if desired.

Medicinal Mint Mock-tails

Coco-Mojito:

20 Fresh Mint Leaves

1 lime cut into 8 wedges

2 Tbs. sugar or sweetener of choice (Coconut sugar recommended. For some, the coconut water may be plenty sweet on its own, in which case the sugar can be left out entirely)

4 cups Young Coconut Water (best from a fresh coconut, but bottled is fine)

2 cups ice

This recipe serves two. Mojitos are best made by preparing them in the glass they will be served in, so remember that the amount of mint, lime and sugar will be divided between the two glasses.

Place the mint and half of the lime wedges in a small but sturdy glass. Use a muddler to crush them and release the oils and juices. Add the remaining lime wedges and sugar, muddling once more. Do not strain. Fill the glass almost to the top with ice, and fill the glass with coconut water. Garnish with lime and mint if desired.

Macintosh Mint Julep

4 cups apple juice (Fresh is best)

2 bunches fresh spearmint (or try apple or pineapple mint, for fun)

2 cups ice, shaved or crushed if possible

*This recipe substitutes apple juice for bourbon.

Begin by making a mint extract by placing about 40 small mint leaves in a cheese cloth, with 1/2 cup of apple juice, allowing the mixture to soak for 15 minutes. Then, wring out the mint leaves over the juice, repeating this process several times. Pour the remaining 3 1/2 cups of apple juice into a pitcher. Strain the leaves from the mint extract and slowly add the extract to the apple juice, one tablespoon at a time, tasting until a desired flavor is reached. Allow the pitcher to sit in the refrigerator 24 hours if possible, in order to let the mint flavor permeate the beverage.

To serve the Julep, fill each glass half full with shaved ice, add a spring of mint, and cover with more ice. Freeze glass until frosted and then pour the refrigerated apple juice on top of the ice. Serve immediately.

References:

1. Kowalchik, Claire and William H. Hylton, editors. Rodale’s Illustrated Encyclopedia of Herbs. Rodale Press. Emmaus, 1987.

2. Hartung, Tammi. Growing 101 Herbs that Heal. Storey Books. North Adams, 2000.

3. http://www.mountainvalleygrowers.com/menpiperitachocolate.htm

“A Rough Patch”

Written By Teresa Howell |

My sister Beth and I were discussing how much more difficult some gardening chores seemed to be on our backs these last few years, when she offered what I thought was a non-sequitur.

“Maybe you should try a raised bed,” she suggested.

“I got over that mattress-on-the-floor thing years ago,” I said. “Besides, sleeping doesn’t bother me. Weeding does.”

“Raised beds are for plants,” she explained. “They make gardening easier, and direct water and nutrients to the plant roots. Soil warms up faster in the spring, and stays looser, since children and animals stay out of the beds.”

“And sisters,” I mentioned, remembering a size eight print in the sun-chokes I planted last fall. Fortunately she never heard that last remark, because I needed her help with the construction.

Raised beds can be made out of nearly anything: tires, rocks, concrete blocks, recycled plastic lumber, or whatever else might be available. I chose two-by-twelve inch Douglas fir. Cedar or redwood would have doubled the life of the beds–and the cost.

On the appointed day, the lumber yard delivered the wood, with the dimensional pieces cut to specs. I planned for four-foot-wide beds, a width which allows me to reach weeds in the middle of the beds. A person with a shorter reach might have made them narrower. The lengths varied to fit my garden design.

I had the wood stacked in what I thought was a convenient place; close to the spot I wanted the beds. However, I didn’t choose the location of the lumber pile as well as I had thought: carpenter rule number one–do not stack the lumber on an ant pile.

Construction of the beds was surprisingly easy. First, we cut two-by-fours in 11-inch pieces to brace the corners. We cut them just a bit shorter than the width of the lumber.

We used deck screws to assemble the beds. Screws last longer than nails, and besides, I’ve never heard of anybody pounding her thumb with an electric screwdriver.

First we prepared the long sides of the beds. We attached a brace to each end of the long sides. We made sure that they were flush with the end of the board, and did not protrude, since any protrusion could throw the bed off square.

Then we prepared the end pieces by drilling four pilot holes on both edges, spaced so that two of them would go into the end of the side piece, and two would go into the braces. Because the holes were already drilled, assembly of the beds went quickly. We only had to carry the four pieces to the proper site, square up the corners, and screw the pieces together.

Next, I filled the boxes. Beth was unavailable for that chore–she said something about already having too many slivers.

Because plants in a raised bed can be planted closer together than in a traditional garden, the soil needed to be rich. I started with a thick layer of old rotting straw, and I was happy to see earthworms in the mushy rotted parts. The straw will help keep the dirt from leaking out the bottom of the beds, and will release nutrients as it continues to decompose. Next I added a layer of dirt, then a layer of composted manure. Another layer each of straw, dirt and manure filled each box.

The whole point of a raised bed is to make gardening easier, so I’ll put in drip line. Drip line is available in rolls, and the purchaser has options of emitter spacing from six inches up to four feet. If I were willing to change the hose in each bed every season as I rotated crops, I could match the emitter spacing with the spacing of the plants, which would save some water. I want the drip line to be permanent, so I’ll compromise on one-foot spacing.

To turn these raised beds into temporary greenhouses, I can arch PVC pipe across the width of the bed. Ten foot pieces will give about four feet of clearance, and if I space them at two feet and run a piece of PVC along the top of the arch as a ridgepole, it will be fairly sturdy. Covered with clear plastic, I can extend my growing season. Covered with floating row cover, I can keep out pests.

I like to do as much of my work as possible sitting down, so when time permits, I’ll attach a seating rail using two-by fours laid flat. Beth says two-by-twelve’s would be a more comfortable match for my dimensions. But that’s another fight.

When Teresa Howell is not digging out slivers, she teaches English at Great Basin College in Winnemucca, Nevada.

The two biggest excuses that people have when it comes to starting to grow their own food are experience and space.

They will say that they have no experience and need to learn more before they can start because they don’t want to fail. The other thing that people will say is that they don’t have the space and are waiting to move to a bigger place.

These are just excuses and not reasons for growing your own food.

Why Grow Your Own Food?

This is the question that people will usually ask. To me the answer is simple. It’s because we are human.

It’s what humans have done for hundreds and thousands of years. It’s not until the past hundred or so years that we have put that responsibility into the hands of others that are not even remotely close to us.

Here are some other simple reasons why you should grow some of your own food:

● On average food travels 1,500 miles from the farm to our plate. A lot of resources are used to transport the food and a lot of the nutritional value is lost by the time it makes it to our plates.

●      Pesticides and chemicals are used on most conventional produce. I don’t care what studies say and show, do you want to be eating those chemicals?

●      How farm workers are treated. The laborers on most industrial farms aren’t treated fairly. Women are especially exploited. This is not a practice that I want to contribute to.

●      Most importantly food is community. Societies and civilizations were built on growing and sharing food. They were set-up in areas that had fertile soil and access to water. Now we shove food like products into our mouths in between tasks.

Shooting Down the Experience Excuse

In 2009, when I first started apartment gardening in NYC, I had no experience at all. I was Brooklyn born and raised. I knew more about concrete and playgrounds than compost and seeds.

I wanted to know as much as I possibly could before I started, so I did like everyone else does and got some books on gardening. About 10 pages into these books I was ridiculously bored.

They are filled with wisdom and great information, but most gardening books are mad boring and read like science textbooks. Nobody I know reads science textbooks for fun.

Then I pushed aside all that and realized…what did people do 500 years ago? They certainly didn’t Google “how to start a garden.” They just did it and learned.

That’s what I did. I just started and used trial and error. Two years later, I’m still using trial and error. I’m having fun, learning and reconnecting with my food. That’s the most important thing.

I now appreciate food that much more because I realize what it takes to grow some.

So having no experience is not a good excuse.

Shooting Down the No Space Excuse

I started with small space gardening and that’s what I continue to do. When I first began all I had was a 2×3 fire escape on the 4th floor of my NYC apartment. Not much space at all.

I was able to make the most of that space though and do it cheaply. I had three containers that I made into self-watering containers and also used soda bottles to make hanging planters (10 total around the handrails).

To get started here is what you’ll need to do:

Decide on a Location

You need to decide where you are going to grow.

Access to water is an important factor to take into consideration. You might not want to be carrying water through your apartment to your garden. There are ways around that.

Don’t Just Think Ground

You’ve picked your location. Now you need to inspect the area you are going to grow in.

Don’t just think of the flat surfaces on the ground. You might also want to consider windowsills, ledges, railings and the space above and around you. Get creative with it and have fun.

How Much Sunlight

Pay attention to how much sunlight the space gets. If it gets at around 2-3 hours of direct sunlight you are good to grow something. My balcony garden is east facing and gets about 4-6 hours of early sunlight. What I can grow is limited, but I grow what works best in these conditions.

What to Grow In

If you are a handy DIY kind of person, you can make self-watering containers, which is what I use, or you can buy some from the store.

Self-watering containers use two containers and require little maintenance after they are built. They are constructed from two 5-gallon containers. You can get them from your local flower shop, deli, restaurant or farmers market for little to no money.

If you have the space to hang some plants, then you can make the soda bottle planters that I mentioned before. Herbs such as basil, oregano and mint do well in these.

What to Grow

You might not have an option and this could be determined for you by your space and sun conditions. On my balcony my selection is pretty small, but it’s still something.

From there, you can grow things that you know you like and will eat or you can experiment with new veggies or new versions of veggies that you like. That’s up to you.

Here are some other creative small space ideas that might work for you.

So having no space is not a good excuse.

Now two of the biggest excuses to not grow food are shot down and you have the starting point of getting your veggie garden started. There isn’t the expectation of having a full-on veggie garden. Just one plant will make a difference. Land, space, money and lack of experience shouldn’t be excuses. What are you going to start to grow?

Bio

Through his blog UrbanOrganicGardener.com and social media, Mike Lieberman shares his expertise on urban gardening, green living and real food. He inspires others to start growing their own food and believes that growing just one herb or vegetable will make a difference. It will help to cut back the intensive resources that go into the production and transport of food to our plates. It will also help us to re-establish our connection with food that we’ve lost over the past few years. We are humans. We grow food.

Connect with Mike on his blog, Twitter or Facebook.

Family dynamics never change. For instance, when I was a senior in high school and my baby sister Jessie was in kindergarten, I was better at reading and math than she was–or at least that’s the way I remember it. Reports from some of our siblings conflict.

Now she’s in her early forties, and I’m in my fi-cough-ies, I naturally expect that I’m a better gardener. So when she put in a garden at her new home in Sidney, Montana, I predicted crop failure.

I had two things going for me in the world of competitive gardening. First, twelve years more experience. Second, and I was counting on this, Sidney is only about a hundred miles from the Canadian border. Gardening maps put Sidney in zone three, where I always thought only reindeer moss and the hardiest of willows grew. My Winnemucca garden is in zone six, which all the experts agree is gardening nirvana.

Imagine my surprise when Jessie started complaining of tomato-canning burnout last August, while I was still waiting for enough tomatoes to build a decent salad. Then I started investigating.

Turns out that those colorful zone maps only measure one thing–the coldest temperature an area is likely to receive. It’s useful information if you’re trying to decide whether a tree or perennial is will winter-kill in your area.

But most vegetables don’t go in the garden until at least May. Even in Sidney, the forty below temperatures are a painful but receding memory. That’s when other climate factors come in to play.

Factors like the number of frost-free days. In Sidney, they have 111 of them, on average.  Here in Winnemucca, we get from 85 to 110 days between the last frost of spring and the first of fall. Our altitude encourages late spring frosts. It also encourages cool nights and hot days, temperature extremes that many vegetables don’t appreciate.

On the plus side, I’ve found that some cool-season crops, like lettuces, peas and fava beans, tolerate our heat better than I expected, probably because they get to cool off during the night. Unfortunately, those crops don’t carry the bragging rights of tomatoes and melons.

My sister’s zone three garden has a couple other unexpected pluses. Around the summer solstice, Jessie gets a few minutes shy of an hour more daylight every day than I do. The difference in day length is less marked earlier or later in the season, but still, that’s a lot of extra photosynthesis.

Sidney is west of the Missouri River, which means gardeners should expect drought. But Jessie gets a whopping 14.2 inches of precipitation to Winnemucca’s 8.4 inches. In keeping with the “it’s not how much, but when” theme, Sidney a good share of its moisture in June and July, when the only natural precipitation my garden usually sees is the sweat that drips off my brow. More precipitation usually means better soil, because salt and alkalinity wash out, and comparatively luxuriant vegetation means more naturally-occurring organic matter in the soil.

Fortunately, we can compensate for some of these conditions. We can irrigate and add organic material. We can’t do much about that extra summer daylight (I’ll spot you that one, Jessie), but we can offer shade in the extreme heat and frost protection in the early spring and later fall.

There are a variety of hoop houses, floating row covers and greenhouses for frost protection, although they come at some expense. There are also options for individual plants.  Wax paper hot caps are inexpensive, although they won’t protect against a hard freeze. The French use elegant cloches, often made of glass.

This year I plan to try the proverbial wall-o-water, a ring of connected plastic tubes that you fill with water. These tubes surround your tomato; the water absorbs heat during the day and releases it during the night.

So watch out this year, Jessie! Me and my wall-o-waters are going to kick your little tomato-canning tootie!

References:

1. http://www.unce.unr.edu/publications/files/ho/2010/fs1015.pdf

2. http://www.timeanddate.com/worldclock/aboutastronomy.html

3. http://usclimatedata.com

When Teresa Howell isn’t taunting her siblings, she teaches English at Great Basin College in Winnemucca, NV.

Dirt doesn’t get a whole lot of respect in our modern industrialized culture, which is unfortunate indeed. Soil is the great transmuter; everything that dies and decomposes into it becomes new life, nourishing every species in our food chain in turn. Healthy soil contains a rich array of vitamins and minerals, and can sustain a broad population of life forms. Greater nutrient content in the soil means greater bio-diversity of plants, making healthy food available to more insects and animals, including humans. When soil quality is poor, there are less of the necessary organisms that sustain life for the plants and animals that depend on healthy soil. Depleted soil is not able to hold water, and in extreme cases, the loss of healthy top soil contributed to land-slides, dust bowls, higher green house gas emissions and other environmental disasters. Soil that is contaminated with chemical fertilizers and pesticides carry those poisons into our ground water and rivers, affecting the ecology of habitats far removed.

What we use in our gardens has consequences that reach far beyond the boundaries of our back fence. While corporate interests continue to market synthetic nitrogen fertilizers as efficient and necessary for maximizing garden production, as we will see below, there are plenty of organic alternatives that offer the benefits of soil fertility with the added bonus of improving the health of the entire ecosystem, instead of damaging it for generations to come.

Inorganic fertilizers are produced in ways that can only be summed up as unsustainable. Minerals such as potassium and phosphorus are mined, and are not sourced from renewable resources. The mining of these minerals in and of itself is damaging the environment from which they have been extracted. Artificial nitrogen fertilizers are typically synthesized using fossil fuels such as natural gas or coal, which are limited resources as well.

Some of the most devastating effects of inorganic fertilizers can be witnessed along the gulf coast in the United States. Fertilizer run-off from the corn-belt is the primary cause of depletion of oxygen in many parts of the ocean, resulting in loss of oceanic fauna; these areas are known as “dead zones” and are increasing at an alarming rate. About HALF of all the lakes in the United States are now eutrophic, meaning there is an overgrowth of algae, and a lack of necessary oxygen for fish and other species that depend on healthy water. Poisonous toxins from inorganic fertilizer also leech into the ground water, which is shown to cause what is referred to as “blue baby syndrome” (acquired methemoglobinemia) which can lead to coma and death in newborns whose mothers have been exposed to poisoned ground water.

The radioactive element Uranium is another example of a contaminant often found in high phosphate fertilizers, in addition to heavy metals such as cadmium.  Highly radioactive polonium-210 has been traced to phosphate fertilizers as well. Toxic materials such as these are absorbed by the roots of the plants and transferred to those who eat them.

Now that we have outlined some of the many frightening consequences of using synthetic fertilizers, it is time for some good news. As usual, mother-nature is smarter than we are and, she continues to provide us with simple, yet highly effective alternatives. Many organic soil amendments have even been shown to help reverse some of the damage caused by industrial agriculture. For instance, red worms and their castings (aka worm poop), and tea from these castings, have been shown not only to boost soil fertility, but also to break down and neutralize toxic materials in the soil, including heavy metals and radioactive elements!

One can create a simple organic fertilizer by soaking dried nettle in a covered bucket of water for a few weeks. It will not smell so good, but it will boost crop yields. Nettle tea is known to make plants less susceptible to pests and diseases, reducing the need for pesticides.

Composting is another easy way to boost soil fertility and reduce the amount of garbage your household produces. Start your compost pile by combing fruit and vegetable cuttings, eggs shells, coffee grounds, garden clippings, animal manure and other organic materials. Meat, dairy and human waste (or from domestic cats and dogs) should not be added. This compost pile should be turned over regularly, to help the materials break down. As these materials decompose, they become nutrient rich soil.

Soil is the foundation and medium for supporting life on this earth, it is the essence of earth itself. If we are kind to it, it will be kind to us. Choosing organic fertilizers benefits countless life forms, humans included. Healthy soil equals a healthy world.

References:

1. Hemenway, Toby. Gaia’s Garden: A guide to home scale permaculture, 2nd Edition. Chelsea Green Publishing. White River Junction, 2009.

2. Coleman, Eliot. The New Organic Grower, 2nd Edition. Chelsea Green Publishing. White River Junction, 1995.

3. www.wikipedia.org/nitrogenfertilizer

4. http://www.magicwiggler.com/Compare.html

Trifolium pretense, or Red Clover, is a member of the legume family and a cousin to the sweet pea. The small, red and pink flowers bloom up from the famous round leaves, which grow in clusters of three and have long been prized as a symbol of good luck. This perennial plant is native to Europe, Western Asia and northwest Africa. Today, it grows all over the world. In our modern western times, clover is sometimes considered a common weed that needs to be sprayed with poison pesticides in order to maintain a lawn of green. It is truly a shame and a waste when this occurs, for not only is the plant attractive, it serves many useful purposes in both garden and medicine chest, and is delicious besides.

In the garden, clover is an excellent green manure crop. Planting clover in a field a year before planting other garden vegetables is an inexpensive, environmentally sound source of nitrogen. There is no need to supplement with artificial fertilizers, and clover provides the added benefit of its deep rooted plants breaking up compacted subsoil. Clover can also be “under-sown” or planted to surround other fruit and vegetable crops, such as tomatoes, melons or squash. Plant the clover in the early spring, and once the fruits and vegetables have been harvested, the clover may be turned over into the soil, to break down over the winter, blessing you with a fertile garden bed the following spring.

Red clover blossoms may be dried and used in a pleasant tasting tea. It is often used in combination with other herbs to nourish pregnant and breast feeding women, as well as to treat skin conditions, coughs and blood infections. Red Clover gently purifies the blood, helping to eliminate heavy metals and other environmental contaminants, while nourishing the body with its abundance of trace minerals. It is also mildly antispasmodic, which means it can ease nervous excitability, twitching and spasm. It is gentle enough to give to children who have recurring respiratory problems, such as colds, hay fever, asthma, ear infections or congestion.

Below is a recipe for a simple herbal tea, suitable for pregnant women and their families. The tea may be used daily throughout pregnancy and into the postpartum period to promote milk production. The high mineral content makes this an excellent nutritive herbal tea that is beneficial for most individuals.

Nourishment Tea –

from “Naturally Healthy Babies and Children”

1 ounce red raspberry leaves

1 ounce dried nettle

1 ounce dried oatstraw

1/2 ounce dried alfalfa

12 ounce red clover blossoms

1/4-1/2 ounce dried spearmint leaves

1/4 ounce rose hips

1 quart boiling water

Mix all of the herbs and store away from heat and sunlight in a glass jar. Put a handful of the mixture into a tea pot (or vessel that can be covered with a lid), add the boiling water, cover and steep for one hour, for maximum benefit. Tea may be steeped for less time, if the flavor is experienced as too strong after a long steep. Add honey and lemon to taste if desired.

References:

1. Romm, Aviva Jill. “Naturally Healthy Babies and Children.” Celestial Arts. Berkely, 2003.

2. Coleman, Eliot. “The New Organic Grower, 2nd Edition.” Chelsea Green Publishing. White River Junction, 1995.

3. Emery, Carla. “The Encyclopedia of Country Living, 9th Edition.” Sasquatch Books. Seattle, 2003.

Just because the frost is rolling in, does not mean that your home grown vegetable production need come to an end. With a little bit of crop protection, you can grow a number of tasty garden delights through much of the cold season. Here is a rough guide of ideas for fall and early winter gardens.

Choose winter hardy crops, here is a basic list of plants to start in the fall:

• Carrots
• Radish
• Lettuce
• Mustard Greens
• Arugula
• Swiss Chard
• Kale
• Turnips
• Kohlrabi
• Spinach
• Sorrel
• Onions
• Garlic
• Leeks
• Parsnips
• Chinese Cabbage, such as Bok Choy
• Sunchokes
• Brussle Sprouts
• Parsley
• Peas, (which will sprout in the earliest of early spring).

You need to start by covering your crops with two layers of plastic and enough room for the plants to stretch out and grow. Hoop houses work well, which are tunnels covered in plastic. They are fairly simple to build, or assemble from pre-packaged kits.

Mulch from straw, hay, leaves or newspaper can help to keep root veggies warm, making it possible for them to be uncovered. Some root vegetables, such as parsnips, are especially hardy in the cold, and are said to be sweeter when left in the ground through a good frost. Most greens need cover once temperatures really begin to drop. Cold frame boxes are made with untreated wood, with a glass top, and can be propped open to allow ventilation to the plants inside. They are great for keeping greens cozy and flourishing all winter long.

“Seeds of Change,” at www.seedsofchange.com, has a great variety of winter garden materials, and there are many Do It Yourself websites and books that have excellent instructions for building your own cold frames, or hoop houses. Many projects can be accomplished with re-purposed materials.

Covering the plants in clear plastic or glass keeps them insulated from the harsh wind and moisture changes of winter, while still giving them access to much needed sunlight.  It is best to uncover plants for watering, harvesting or care only during the middle of the day, when it tends to be the warmest.

Greenhouses are a slightly more intensive method for year round gardening. With a little planning ahead, greenhouses can make it possible to extend the growing season for warm season crops such as tomatoes and peppers. This works especially well if these plants are grown in containers so they can be easily transported to the greenhouse before the first frost.

Indoor kitchen gardens are wonderful in the cold months. Small pots of culinary herbs such as rosemary, sage and basil can be grown on the windowsill. Sprouting is a simple way to grow healthy food in a timely manner. Some sprouts only take a few days and can be grown in mason jars without any soil at all. Others need a week or two and are grown in pots or flat pallets of soil. Both methods are easy, quick and cost effective, with the added pleasure of being surrounded by green and growing things in the midst of winter weather.

If you are feeling adventurous, you can try indoor mushroom cultivation. Basements and closets usually provide ideal living conditions for your fungi friends. Grow- your- own mushroom kits can be found at www.gmushrooms.com/pots.htm.

The cold season is also a great time to research and plan for next year’s garden. Before you know it, planting for next spring’s garden will be here. So enjoy your fresh greens from the garden as you pour over your seed catalogue, and watch for signs that your spring peas have sprouted.

References:

1. Emery, Carla. The Encyclopedia of Country Living 9th Edition. Sasquatch Books. Seattle, 2003
2. Bubel, Mike and Nancy. Root Cellaring. Storey Publishing. 1991
3. Coleman, Eliot. The New Organic Grower, Revised and Expanded Edition. Chelsea Green Publishing Company. Vermont, 1989
4. www.seedsofchange.com/