It's raining, it's
pouring...down-pouring, actually. Hooray for the rain! Not only do
our poor, empty South Carolina lakes need a refill, but I'm seriously
behind in writing.
Lately, any free moment of daylight is spent in
the garden, working frantically to prepare for the
Carolina Farm Stewardship Association's Upstate Farm Tour. While I'm excited and
honored to be included on the tour—particularly since we are not a
traditional farm—I'm also nervous! I mean, honestly—who wants to
tour an empty backyard?
So, my friends, that's where I've been
lately, building and digging and planting and prettifying.
The garden tasks haven't left much time
for writing—or washing laundry. (And gardening is just so much tastier than cleaning toilets.)
Fortunately, I'm making progress. When
I last updated about the six new raised beds for the large vegetable
garden, we chatted about creating soil to fill the beds. Remember my
perfect calculations to determine how much peat moss, vermiculite,
and mushroom compost I would need to fill the beds?
Well. Multiply that originally
calculated 120 cubic feet...by 2.
Guess who made a teeny, tiny boo-boo in
her math?
Yes. Yes, I did.
Now, in my defense, my math was
correct. My ability to measure is what threw off the calculations.
Remember how I mentioned that the
original garden slopes?
In designing the raised beds, Peter
compensated for the sloping ground by building the beds to
accommodate the slope—allowing the beds to appear straight, which resulted in a tiered garden.
Can you see in the photo above how the
board on the right side of each bed isn't as tall as the board on the
left side of the bed? In fact, the board on the right side is six
inches high—which is what I used to calculate the height of the
bed. In reality, the bed is 12 inches deep. The left board is 12
inches high, and the right side is dug out to make the height also 12
inches.
Thus, my miscalculation.
My formula for each bed should have
been:
Length (10 feet) x Width (4 feet) x
Height (1 foot, NOT .5 feet) = 40 cubic feet per bed, NOT 20 cubic
feet...which is what I calculated.
Yeesh.
I apologize.
If you are building raised beds...I
wish you a perfectly flat plot for your construction project.
Anyway...
Let's talk about making soil.
After all of the trauma and drama of
getting another load of peat moss, compost, and vermiculite, we were
ready to fill the beds.
It's important to mix all of the
components well. Remember our 1/3 ratios? You want 1/3 peat, 1/3
compost, and 1/3 vermiculite to comprise the soil in each bed.
First, because it's so light, we added
the peat directly into the bed.
Next, we poured the vermiculite on top
of the peat...
...and thoroughly mixed the two with a rake.
Then, we added the mushroom compost.
And mixed. And mixed some more.
To ensure even distribution, we made
half the soil for the bed, then started the process again—adding
more peat and vermiculite on top of the already mixed ingredients,
then raking in the mushroom compost—and finally mixing and
smoothing the entire bed.
Peat. Vermiculite. Compost. Mix.
Repeat.
And repeat.
And repeat.
Finally, with very tired arms and
backs, the beds were ready.
In three of the beds designated for tomatoes and peppers, though, I added lime to the mix.
Lime adds calcium to the soil. Have you ever noticed a nasty brown/black spot on the bottom of your tomatoes? Blossom end rot is caused by a calcium deficiency in the plant. Lime helps keep your tomatoes looking lovely.
The Plan.
One of my goals for our garden is to
provide diverse, interesting, delicious produce for our family. In
fact, I'm challenging myself to grow ALL of our produce this summer.
But that's a story for another day.
To meet that goal, though, I needed to
plan strategically what to grow, how to space it, and how to prevent
pests and diseases from decimating the crops. Additionally, all of the produce in the garden is grown from non-GMO, heirloom seeds...no super-powered Franken-plants to thwart diseases in my garden. Careful planning and maintenance are my superpowers of choice to keep the garden healthy.
Typically, I plant in standard rows.
Rows and rows of heirloom tomatoes and peppers, throwing in a few
beans and squash.
Now, with our new raised beds, I
decided to implement a combination of companion planting and square
foot gardening to maximize the output for each bed.
Honestly, this project wasn't cheap, particularly when someone miscalculates the amount of soil needed.
We need some serious return on
investment here in the form of deliciousness.
Square Foot Gardening is an intensive
planting technique that divides a bed into a grid of 12” boxes.
Each square foot is planted according to the harvest size of the
produce. For instance, one tomato plant can occupy a 12” square,
while four Swiss Chard or 16 radishes would fit in that same space.
The founder of Square Foot Gardening
would argue that I'm not truly following his methodology. Rather than
installing a rigid, permanent grid on top of the beds, I used a
trellis I had on hand as a guide for planting. By laying it across
the top of the bed, I formed the needed grid pattern that indicated
12” x 12” squares—and then I planted accordingly.
Four corn seeds (plants) per square foot:
Along with the modified square foot
gardening method, I decided to research which plants work well
together. Companion planting is simply an interplanting
technique—discovering which plants assist each other in growing
well, which plants repel pests or attract beneficial insects, and
even which plants repel one another.
Armed with my handy resource,
Carrots Love Tomatoes, I made a list of the vegetables I planned to plant.
Then, I researched the plants that would coexist well together and
repel various pests, as well as the plants to avoid as bedfellows.
We've all heard about the Three Sisters
Garden: corn, beans, and squash all are perfect companions. Beans
provide nitrogen in the soil for the corn, corn supports the beans as
a trellis, and squash serves as a mulch to keep the soil cool and
weed free.
However, I learned so much more when I
delved into various companions. Last year, like so many of my
friends, my squash bit the dust due to squash vine borers. As I
researched companions for the garden, I found that icicle radishes,
planted in a squash hill and allowed to flower, help prevent squash
vine borer.
Squash and Icicle Radish Companions.
Who knew?
So, rather than quickly plant my garden
haphazardly, as I have done so often in the past, I made a plan.
A real plan. For each bed.
The first part of the plan involved
foresight. Because of the problems we've had in the past with soil
borne disease, I created the garden plan looking forward to next
summer—and planning crop rotation.
My natural inclination is to plant
every bed full of heirloom tomatoes. After all, I grew 160 varieties
this year. How can you not want to plant one of each?
Instead, though, I reined in my tomato
lust and contained the tomatoes to three beds—with the plan to
rotate each year.
Must. Prevent. Diseases.
It's my new mantra.
As I thought about what we like to eat
and what I like to grow, I sketched out THE PLAN.
And then, I couldn't read my writing.
So, I tried to decipher my writing,
breaking out the big picture into a sketch for each bed. And as I
planted each bed, I attempted to record any changes I made along the
way (like squeezing in an extra Cherokee Purple tomato here and
there. You can never have too many Cherokee Purples.)
Now, for your viewing pleasure, I give
you:
THE RAISED BEDS.
(In front of the beds is an existing
perennial herb garden, plus more annual herbs that I just planted
yesterday. I'll show you the herbs next time, because right now,
they're naked and in need of mulch. It's not a pretty site. And I
think this blog post is turning into a novel instead of a blog.
Thanks for hanging in there!)
Left Back:
The Plan: Beans, Three Sisters Garden: corn, beans, squash; zucchini, Edisto melon
The Planting
Left Front:
The Plan: Cucumbers, three varieties; Moon & Stars watermelon, heirloom lettuce, five varieties. (Note: normally, you wouldn't plant lettuce this time of year in the south. However, our garden also gets a bit of shade, so I can usually squeeze in a late crop without it bolting.)
The Planting
Middle Back:
The Plan: beans, 2 varieties; potatoes, five varieties; Swiss Chard; arugula; spinach, 2 varieties; carrots, 2 varieties; leeks.
The Planting
Middle Front:
The Plan: Tomatoes, sweet peppers, Genovese basil
The Planting
Right Back:
The Plan: Tomatoes, Swiss Chard, nasturtium
The Planting
Right Front:
The Plan: Tomatoes, hot peppers, globe basil, Genovese basil
The Planting
So, there you have it, my friends. Six
beds filled with potential garden delicacies.
I can taste the bruschetta already.
For now, I'll give you a break to rest
from this epic adventure. Later this week, I'll show you a couple smart strategies to incorporate as you plant your garden. (Think sturdy tomatoes,
heavenly herbs, delicious potatoes, and pest-free produce!) Stay
tuned...
The sky is clear...and I'm afraid it's
back to the garden I go. There's still mulch to spread and flowers to
add.
(And a search for any extra spaces to
add another tomato.)
Happy gardening to you!
XO ~
Julie
