Squashing Squash Vine Borers.

Yesterday, I harvested our first perfect, adorable yellow crookneck squash. 

Isn't it the cutest thing ever? 

While I'm thrilled to think about the deliciousness of lightly sauteéd squash with a hint of Parmesan melted on top, I'm also a bit nervous. Last year, our first good harvest of squash was also our last harvest. 

(Photo from R. Bessin, http://www.ca.uky.edu/entomology/entfacts/ef314.asp)

Squash vine borers invaded the garden. 

This season, a gardening friend of mine already reported that he's lost a zucchini vine to the evil beasts. They're rampant, invasive, highly destructive. One day, you're harvesting lovely squash for a delicious ratatouille--the next, your vines are wilting. You think your forgot to water the bed--but no. Instead, your perfectly tended vines are being eaten from the inside out. 

It's like a horror movie. 

The larva of the squash vine borer (Melittia cucurbitae) tunnel into stems of the squash plants, feeding on the basal portion of vine--which kills the plant. Sometimes, the borers venture to the fruit. 

Beastly brutes.

 (Photo from R. Bessin, http://www.ca.uky.edu/entomology/entfacts/ef314.asp)

Squash vine borers mature into a moth known as a "clear wing," due to the lack of scales on the hind wings. The moths are often mistaken for wasps, as they fly during the day, laying eggs on the leaves of cucurbits. The larvae are white, thick, and more than an inch in length when fully grown. 

The biggest challenge for those of us in warm climates is that these nasty borers emerge early. The insects overwinter in the soil in the form of a larva or pupa, emerge in early summer, and lay eggs on the stems of the plants--typically in late May. The larvae hatch, bore into the vines, and complete their development in about four weeks. After they wreck havoc on our crooknecks and zucchini, they crawl into the soil, spin a cocoon, and transform into a pupa. 

Have I mentioned how much I hate these nasty borers? 

A friend of mine who is a fairly new gardener but a talented, crafty kind of girl tried to grow pumpkins with her kids last year. She thought it would be a great experience for the family to grow their own pumpkins, harvest them, and then carve them for Halloween. 

Guess what? 

Squash vine borers. 

The killers not only of vines--but of gardening dreams. 

When she asked what she could do to save the vines--I didn't have any answers. 

But now, I've done my homework. 

This year, before planting the raised beds, I researched every type of companion plant to help the garden flourish. Interestingly, I found that icicle radishes, planted in the same mounds as cucurbits and allowed to flower, are used as a trap crop for squash vine borers. Now, planted among all of the squash, zucchini, and cucumbers, the leaves of icicle radishes peek through. 

I'm crossing my fingers that it works. 

As a preventative, crop rotation is important to avoid the nasty borers. Because the larvae overwinter in the soil, avoid planting any members of the cucurbit family in the same location each year. (Cucumber, squash, and melon comprise the cucurbit family.) Also, destroy any vines killed by the borers to break the life cycle. 

Additionally, you can help prevent infestations by installing row covers over the crops--but then you'll need to hand pollinate your vines. 

But what can you do to save your crop now if you suspect a borer attack? According to Rodale's Illustrated Encyclopedia of Organic Gardening, you can slit the infested vine lengthwise and remove the borers with a long needle. (Kind of disgusting, but still--you have dinner plans for that yummy squash, right?) After you've removed and destroyed the invaders, heap soil over the slit stem to encourage rooting. 

And cross your fingers. 

We will win the battle against these beasts. Who's with me?! 

XO ~ 

Julie

Friday Night Fun.

A recent Friday night found us throwing a garden party for 1,500 guests.

Drinks included drops of fresh rainwater...

...while the main course featured tiny aphids, marinated with a hint of heirloom tomatoes and Genovese basil.

Some of our guests needed assistance to find the buffet...

Others flirted and danced the night away.
 

The hostesses encouraged the guests to stay awhile, making them welcomed and comfortable, hoping they wouldn't disappear into the night.

We must throw a good party, because some of our new friends are still in the garden, making babies, and cleaning up the buffet.

Here's hoping they stick around for awhile.

XO ~

Julie

Edible Dreams.

 For the past week, I've dreamt of gardens.

 

Elaborate gardens, formal gardens, lush mountain paradises, quirky artists' gardens, community gardens. A few of those dreams left me in a cold sweat, panicked about our own gardens—and the impending Carolina Farm Stewardship Association's Upstate Farm Tour that will feature our edible gardens this weekend.

After spending four days touring magnificent gardens during the Garden Bloggers' Fling in Asheville, I'm feeling a bit anxious about our gardens. First of all—we're not a farm. We live in a subdivision with a Homeowners' Association, on less than an acre. One of the reasons, though, that we're included on the farm tour is to show how a typical family living in suburbia can grow healthy, organic food in the backyard—or front yard. Or balcony. Or in containers. My goal is that everyone who visits us during the farm tour will be inspired to grow something edible this summer. (Or, perhaps Chicken Mama will convince them to add pet chickens to their lives.)

Still, while I know that the farm tour doesn't focus on pristine flower beds (ignore the weeds, please) or perfectly mulched paths (they aren't), I can't help but judge our gardens based on the four days of gorgeous landscapes I experienced in Asheville.

We don't have the staff of Biltmore to tame unruly perennials or to design perfect kitchen gardens. But then again, neither does Sunny Point Café.

One of my favorite stops on our tour, Sunny Point Café is the epitome of the farm-to-table movement—or, in its case, back lot garden-to-table.

As our group traipsed across the street from our bus to the Café, I barely contained my excitement. I knew of Sunny Point Café from reading reviews of area local food establishments, and a restaurant that fed guests from its own kitchen garden was high on my list of places to visit. Kindred spirits awaited, and I readied my Nikon to capture the café's organic spirit.

What the--? Full. My DS card was full.

Panic! What could I delete? How long did we have at this garden? Would I miss the experience by spending valuable minutes sorting through hundreds of images, deciding what to save and what to trash?

Then, a miracle—Family Dollar beckoned across the street, a glimmering ray of hope.

I sprinted away from the Bloggers, dodged traffic, and burst into the store like the madwoman I am. The lovely cashier led me to the aisle, where ONE DS card hung, as if fate decided to kindly throw me a bone for my poor planning.

Eight dollars later—and swearing that I will always carry a backup card everywhere I go—I rejoined the group.

And found an edible paradise.

OK, so maybe I'm overly excited about peas and kale.

Honestly, though, I was as delighted to talk with Melissa Metz, the garden manager, about the varieties of potatoes and peas she grows as many gardeners are to discuss the latest introductions of hybrid roses. We spent time chatting about the irrigation system, the compost, and a variety of purple peas she grew. 

(Purple peas? I've grown purple beans, but never purple peas. Must. Add.)

One of my challenges with our edible gardens is to make them not only functional but also aesthetically pleasing. Sunny Point Café's whimsical garden art added an attractive, warm, inviting atmosphere to the kitchen garden. Bright signage...

...cozy seating areas...

...and a friendly scarecrow-like mascot greeted garden guests.

Not only does Sunny Point Café provide homegrown produce for its guests, it also adopts environmentally friendly principles as part of its business model.

While we sampled biscotti and lemonade from the Café, I wished Sunny Point was our lunch destination. Although we didn't eat a meal at the Café, the snacks certainly enticed for a return visit. These are folks I'd love to break bread with while talking about heirloom tomatoes, fraise des bois, and crop rotation. 

Sexy stuff.

Still, Sunny Point Café served as an ideal, attainable garden. 

It's large--but not unmanageable. It's attractive without excessive fluff. It's inviting, warm, and the kind of place you'd like to settle in for a bit with a glass of lemonade to talk with other geeky edible gardeners who understand why it's so important to grow 80 varieties of heirloom tomatoes.

After all, not all gardeners want to debate the merits of the Florida Weave versus tomato cages.

Thinking about Sunny Point Café's garden, I checked on our own larger veggie garden tonight.

I have two more days to prepare for the Farm Tour.

I think we'll be ready.

(Just please, ignore the weeds.)

XO ~

Julie