scrubjayspeaks (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
scrubjayspeaks) wrote2020-11-07 06:31 am
scrubjayspeaks) wrote2020-11-07 06:31 am
Entry tags:
Pandemic Garden Club
Welcome to the November edition of Pandemic Garden Club! Growing good things in strange times!
Anyone is welcome to comment with what they're growing right now, things they would like to try, problems they're encountering, and questions they have. Share resources, answer questions, shout encouragement.
As for myself...
It's raining! I woke up this morning in time to hear the rain first begin to fall, and it's been coming down, steady but gentle, since then. This feels early, though that might be either my imagination or just the contrast with last winter, which was remarkably dry. This is one of those moments when I wish I had a little gazebo out in the field or so. Someplace covered and raised but with open sides, so I can sit outside and watch the rain in comfort. (My house's windows leave a great deal to be desired in the picturesque view department. Leave me to my dreams.)
The rain also has some practical benefits to my planned gardening. I have obtained three bags of assorted daffodils, which need to get in the ground soon. Problem is (was) that the ground is so damn hard and dry, even in the circle garden where it's been getting watered all summer. Trying to plant the allium bulbs last month took two of us to dig the holes, and we had to water each one several times to soften it enough to hit the required depth. The soil here is wonderful--it's been used for commercial growing in the past--but it has a non-zero amount of clay to it. So when it's unworked and/or has a chance to dry out, it becomes gaddang concrete. (This is still better than where I used to live, which was half an inch of topsoil over solid rock.) So I'm thinking this rain might soften things up enough that I can plant those bulbs. Maybe not today. Maybe not even this weekend. But soon, and without having to hop up and down on a shovel like it's a pogostick to make any progress.
Things have been quiet in the garden this past month again. The pumpkin patch still has a few new pumpkins developing, but it's unclear if they'll survive. We're forecast to get down to freezing this weekend, so I'm expecting to see the last of the vines die off soon. The circle garden's flowers have dwindled down. The four o'clocks are all still standing, but most of the blossoms are off at this point. The butterfly bush and salvia have been putting out flowers, though they're largely hidden in the general greenery. My main concern out there is keeping those two and the dusty miller alive over the winter, which means nightly blanketing. Everything else is just an annual which will either reseed on their own or get planted again next spring.
I'm watching a couple seed websites for them to get their 2021 stock in. I'm going to try some new companies this year and will report on the experience. Some of the smaller companies have notices on their sites that they won't be bothering with physical catalogues this year, on account of the everything. I don't really expect that to translate to any less of a deluge of seed catalogues in my mail box. Seed catalogues are one of the constants of the universe.
Anyone is welcome to comment with what they're growing right now, things they would like to try, problems they're encountering, and questions they have. Share resources, answer questions, shout encouragement.
As for myself...
It's raining! I woke up this morning in time to hear the rain first begin to fall, and it's been coming down, steady but gentle, since then. This feels early, though that might be either my imagination or just the contrast with last winter, which was remarkably dry. This is one of those moments when I wish I had a little gazebo out in the field or so. Someplace covered and raised but with open sides, so I can sit outside and watch the rain in comfort. (My house's windows leave a great deal to be desired in the picturesque view department. Leave me to my dreams.)
The rain also has some practical benefits to my planned gardening. I have obtained three bags of assorted daffodils, which need to get in the ground soon. Problem is (was) that the ground is so damn hard and dry, even in the circle garden where it's been getting watered all summer. Trying to plant the allium bulbs last month took two of us to dig the holes, and we had to water each one several times to soften it enough to hit the required depth. The soil here is wonderful--it's been used for commercial growing in the past--but it has a non-zero amount of clay to it. So when it's unworked and/or has a chance to dry out, it becomes gaddang concrete. (This is still better than where I used to live, which was half an inch of topsoil over solid rock.) So I'm thinking this rain might soften things up enough that I can plant those bulbs. Maybe not today. Maybe not even this weekend. But soon, and without having to hop up and down on a shovel like it's a pogostick to make any progress.
Things have been quiet in the garden this past month again. The pumpkin patch still has a few new pumpkins developing, but it's unclear if they'll survive. We're forecast to get down to freezing this weekend, so I'm expecting to see the last of the vines die off soon. The circle garden's flowers have dwindled down. The four o'clocks are all still standing, but most of the blossoms are off at this point. The butterfly bush and salvia have been putting out flowers, though they're largely hidden in the general greenery. My main concern out there is keeping those two and the dusty miller alive over the winter, which means nightly blanketing. Everything else is just an annual which will either reseed on their own or get planted again next spring.
I'm watching a couple seed websites for them to get their 2021 stock in. I'm going to try some new companies this year and will report on the experience. Some of the smaller companies have notices on their sites that they won't be bothering with physical catalogues this year, on account of the everything. I don't really expect that to translate to any less of a deluge of seed catalogues in my mail box. Seed catalogues are one of the constants of the universe.