|
|
To everything there is a seasonSummer in Middle America can be a hot and challenging season. The extremes of heat and humidity stifle human ambition as much as cold and snow. However, the springtime fantasy of gardening grabbed me and that has been a source of joy this year. I'm even sharecropping to emulate my family's early history and to feel the anxiety of farmers who go to great lengths to expand their acreage. You might find my experiences entertaining and as true on a small scale as your own in the vast expanses of wheat or corn country. There is an "itch" that many people can't scratch until they've laid out, built up, tilled in and planted a garden. The norm for us is a few tomatoes set out in raised beds filled with top soil and covered with landscape cloth to discourage the weeds. This year, I also put in a 40 by 60- foot garden on my neighbor's vacant lot just west of my house. Now this didn't just happen in the blink of an eye. I worked through an intermediary neighbor who lives and raises horses on the next property on west. Butch is the source of horse manure, that he has spread around (literally and figuratively) for several years. He had permission to garden on the land because he's mown it to avoid the shame and disgrace, in Iowa, of having grass more than 2 inches high. He told me he was cutting back this year and would plant just a few vegetables down the side of his barn. His accommodation and mediation gave me the chance to see if I could manage a serious plot. So, without knowing my new landlord, I started preparing for planting. In Oklahoma, you had to look for fertile soil in a good spot to put out a garden. Iowa doesn't have that problem. It's all deep and rich black dirt. With the nutrients that Butch had incorporated over the years, he assured me that it would grow anything. Not having a tractor or rototiller, I did some coffee shop inquiry and found a man who would bring over his Kubota and do the plot for $80. Now that put me in the hole right off, but it would cost four times that much to buy a small tiller, not to mention the impossibility of doing the job at that scale. I withdrew four $20s from the cash machine and he did a fine job. What to plant is always the most fun and the greatest challenge of gardening. If it doesn't grow, you are a failure; if you grow something you won't eat, use or brag about, what's the point? I started with sweet corn, as I hadn't grown any for over 20 years. I added sunflowers, as a border and for the seeds my wife loves to give the birds every winter. In memory of my father, I planted watermelons and cantaloupe. And for the sake of Russell Pierson, founder of Pierson Seed Company, a large okra grower, I planted a row of Clemson Spineless. I put in a few eggplants and yellow crooked-neck squash. The next choice was a bad one. I decided to plant zucchini! The rectangular plot was dark brown with a fine granular texture as the rows and hills went in. I set up the sprinklers with expensive city water and waited to see what would happen. In a few days the zucchini came up, to my delight, then the sunflowers and corn and the weeds. Wow! I had forgotten about weeds. Out with the hoe and back and forth, with more water in the dry weeks of spring. Everything looked a little pale, except the zucchini. This stuff comes to play! It started to bear and we enjoyed the first fruits skewered on the grill; Gail baked several loaves of moist and tasty zucchini bread. Soon, the three hills of zucchini produced six or eight dark or speckled fruits every couple of days. They started to stack up. I let some get too big. I took them to work and begged people to take them. Finally, coming to my senses, I decided to have a mercy killing. I hoed out the vines and stacked them in an open spot to melt back into the soil. The summer heat and rain brought the corn up and the sunflowers jumped. The okra never emerged. I had some space left so I planted some giant pumpkins. I had already given up on this being a profitable enterprise--so why not have some fun! Following a rainy spell, I had to rent a rototiller to get ahead of the weeds, but I regained my dignity just in time to meet the landlord. He came out to mow with a brand new John Deere rider and I loaded him up with everything that was ripe. I met his wife and daughter and spoke with his father. I put his number in my cell phone and got on a first name basis. He surely has seen my skill and won't offer the plot to anyone else. At this writing in late August, the sunflowers have heads a foot across and the abundant rainfall has softened the ground to the point they are leaning precariously. The corn matured faster than I thought, but the ears we picked were worm free and tasty. The squash have picked up where the zucchini left off and I have been hauling them to work and giving them away, along with tomatoes. The giant pumpkin vines grew so fast that one escaped the garden (I am not making this up) and I have had to whack off runners and pile them on top of the zucchini mulch. There are now three pumpkins--with one approaching 150 pounds. I think I'll only miss the world record by a thousand pounds or so. Now, as the nearby fields of corn and soybeans start to mature and the heat of the season seems to be slacking, I find the garden satisfying in early morning and late evening, as I pull weeds and haul out melons and squash, while threatening the pumpkins by pointing to the zucchini pile. I've got mixed emotions on approaching the landlord about next year, even though I know I need to compost some of Butch's manure in the fall and winter if I'm going to have a competitive pumpkin in 2008. To everything there is a season and I'm pretty glad this one is about over. Editor's note: Ken Root is now celebrating his 34th year as an agricultural professional. His career began as a vocational agriculture teacher then turned to agricultural broadcasting and writing as well as environmental consulting and association management. He was the original host of AgriTalk (1994-2001) and now is lead farm broadcaster for WHO Radio in Des Moines, Iowa. Date: 9/4/07
Copyright/Privacy
Copyright 1995-2012. High Plains Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Any republishing of these pages, including electronic reproduction of the editorial archives or classified advertising, is strictly prohibited. If you have questions or comments you can reach us at High Plains Journal 1500 E. Wyatt Earp Blvd., P.O. Box 760, Dodge City, KS 67801 or call 1-800-452-7171. Email: webmaster@hpj.com |
|
