Showing posts with label drought. Show all posts
Showing posts with label drought. Show all posts
Wonderfully wet
As I write this, a sandhill crane is honking somewhere overhead, and there is a big patch of visible grass on my sunny hill. Winter is definitely retreating. She is taking her sweet time, with lots of snow and below-normal temperatures, (and some showy hoarfrost, just to remind us that we do in fact, like winter around here) but she is no match for the lengthening days.
So I am grateful for mud season this March, and equally grateful to have the hoop house, where I can get my gardening season started despite the slower start to spring.
on second chances
Sometimes, with gardening, you can recoup your losses.
Our first round of broccoli, except for a head or two, pretty much burned up. But without any effort on my part (and some wonderful rain and cooler temperatures) the second growth of side shoots is looking wonderful.
In a moment of optimism (even before the drought eased) I planted late-summer crops of beans, beets, cucumbers, cauliflower, carrots; and so far they are doing well. A few of my tomato plants have recovered--though several are looking quite bad for this time of year, I think the heat and drought stress followed by more normal moisture levels encouraged some disease. I did find a few cherokee purples hiding in the bush this week
And I must say, I was skeptical of using the hoop space for growing tomatoes. Up until this year, I have zero problems in our climate growing them in the traditional fashion. But, this year, if it wasn't for the 2 plants inside, I know we would not have enough fruit for salsa or sauce.
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| hoop house romas |
Other crops inside are not the greatest--peppers and zucchini were slower to mature than my outside beds, though are doing fairly well now. I had high hopes for melons and cucumbers, but neither did well at all. In fact the only vine that did survive turned out to be a volunteer climbing zucchini! It took me a painfully long time to realize that the one thriving plant in the row was not a cucumber--though I did catch on quite a bit before I found this, HA.
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| I so wish this was a melon taking up all the space instead. Oh well! |
I biked to the big Saturday market this week, and felt pretty happy comparing our bounty to theirs. Sometimes it's good to remember what you have. And for what I haven't. I bought a big tub of cucumbers, just in case our fall crop fails--and satisfied my need for quick dills and fermented sours. And a big bag of Door County peaches--which were happily eaten with no fanfare or thoughts for the future.
As it is, this in no stretch will be a banner year, but at least we have plenty to eat around here, and a bit to put away for winter. I can't decide if we'll have a long fall growing season, or if the year will continue at an accelerated rate--June in March, August in June--September in August--will we have winter early and just drop the last month off the calender entirely? Actually I think that would be okay with me.
hanging in there
We're officially in a severe drought in this part of Wisconsin. No rain of any measurable amount in my yard since May. A few spots in our county/area had rain last weekend (which is great!) but all the systems missed us. Well, I did wake to the sound and smell of raindrops in the wee morning hours Saturday but all was bone dry by sunrise.
I started out this dry spell feeling grateful that we had options that farmers do not. I have a garden small enough to water by hand, and enough diversity in what I grow that some failures are expected and manageable. But it's starting to feel pretty dire. As much as I can water, I can't cool down the air. We've passed 100 degrees three times already (and expecting today to be close), and have had stretches of 10+ days over 90. My tomato blossoms are dried and dead on the plants, any fruit is at the bottom of the vines. Raspberries have mostly ceased production, and even heat-loving pepper plants are wilting. My sunny, south-facing yard has some downsides after all.
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| I have had enough cukes for ONE jar of refrigerator pickles, sigh. |
And that's just us. Driving out of town a couple of weeks ago, I mistook a small cornfield for garlic: the leaves are so curled they are pointy and narrow. Trees are losing leaves, pines are turning brown, and everything smells like burnt, crispy grass.
After the last break in the heat, I bucked up and replanted for later summer and fall crops, who knows what the weather will do: it seemed worth a shot. But I realized yesterday that I've kind of lost the sanctuary feeling in my garden, instead of the place I go to feel hopeful, it's a source of worry. And that sucks.
