HELLo dear ones. Notice where the emphasis is on that first word would ya? That is from whence I’m writing, garden hell. An alternate title for this post could be… Bipolar gardening (but then my ding-dang-dong-damn-it evil twin, SINthia, would have to write it–God forbid). She hasn’t been around since she tried shooting that Badger and ended up with a skunk–God bless her. She didn’t even report for our anniversary. Which in all honesty, Ben would have liked. He still laughs about the homemade G string.

Anyway. Where was I? Gardening. Bipolar gardening. When I started this blog I really wanted to share what little knowledge I had about simple living and gardens and such. Now, over a year later I’m thinking the more I garden the less I know. Take for example the garden plan I wrote about here. Great idea, really! I arrived at a plan this year by taking last year’s plan minus those painful broccoli and cauliflower plants plus a few more carrots, peppers and tomatoes. But, like that G string…It looked good on paper, but in reality it was a little crowded. I guess sometimes you gotta get yer hands dirty to figure things out. As I stood back a surveyed my problem, I asked myself what was I thinking?

To which SINthia answered, “Weeds don’t grow well in the shade. Just plant the darn things so we can sun tan.”

That’s a valid answer in my worlds. So I planted every last thing I had to plant from tatters to maters, just as stinking close together as I dared. When I got into my jams I noticed it was supposed to get down to 37 degrees that night. Crap on a stick are you kidding me?

SINthia just laughed her evil snicker and said, “Better shut off the water…Sure would hate to see icicles hanging off your tomato cages.”

After trekking outside in my undies, and tracking mud back into the house and into bed, I thought to myself, “I thought gardening was supposed to be fun.”

“Isn’t it you that says gardening is cheaper than therapy? Now you need therapy. So much for that theory. ”

“Shut-up, SINthia.”

“Hey I’ve got a theory for ya… what if we took out an ad in the paper for communal naked organic gardening. It would be fun and educational. That would give you something interesting to write about for a change, instead of how to make dirt or how to grow great tomatoes.”

Folks, if this bipolar-diatribe continues throughout the growing season, it will be one of the longest growing seasons in Kansas history. I may have to have one of those mercy killings and bury her remains in the garden, only the black birds and the crows will know about it. Besides, she’s so full it, she’ll make great fertilizer. Now that sounds like a plan.

Simply,

Sis

SINthia

PS ~ Don’t tell Sis, but I planted my name in lettuce where the flowers are supposed to be. I’ll be long gone by the time she figures this out. Snicker Snicker. I’m telling you forget all gardening rules and just have fun. Later.

So last year I posted Gardening 101: Get a plan (click here to read). This year after coming back from spring break or AWOL as I call it, and looking at last year’s garden plan, I’ve decided this year I’m going rouge, cutting the apron strings, being a rebel and going against everything my mom and daddy taught me about gardening.

Dad (who was full of philosophy–gardening or otherwise) says: always plant your rows east to west, the same direction the sun travels, to assure the most sun. Sis says: what if  my garden gets a ton of sun the way it is and I want to plan two rows north and south and the rest east to west? That way some of the garden will have a little more shade in the morning. Will the earth stop? Nah, I don’t think so.

Dad says: plant your taters and onions on Good Friday. Well darned if I don’t  live in Kansas (zone five) now, instead of Nebraska (zone four), and everyone plants their taters and onions on Saint Paddy’s day here. What’s more? I missed it. I was in Arizona soaking up the sun and learning to golf. So what’s a girl to do? Split the difference!

Dad says plan your rows straight. Sis says: do I get a dad-gum prize if they are straight? Haven’t yet. I think I’ll go for cr0oked this year. You can get more in them that way.

Dad says planting flowers in the garden takes up valuable vegetable space. I say, my fat jeans are tight enough, maybe I’ll go for a few flowers. Besides they make me happy and feel good.

So if you are looking for real gardening tips, stand-by or read last years…they still apply. If you just want to try your hand at gardening without any worries or cares, just buy some seeds, read the directions on the back of the package and put them in the ground while enjoying the sunshine.

Isn’t that what we are really looking for…sunshine and lollipops?

The fresh veggies and canned salsa is just a big fat bonus to me.

What do you get out of gardening?

Simply,

Sis

You want to know another frugal secret? I collect tired once frozen, dried up marigolds (and zinnias.) It’s what I do in the fall.

This year, our eldest, W wasn’t as confused as to why his weird mother does this. Having helped him with his science test on the life cycle of a flower, I knew he understood that the last thing a dead flower will do is lose it’s seeds, causing a whole new generation to grow next year. Even armed with that wonderful truth, he didn’t want to help me gather them. But the up side to that is, he didn’t think quite as weird.

“Let me guess. You’re saving money,” as he threw he knife that he got at the gun show into his target.

Okay, so it’s not that much money. But it’s what I do. I have enough flower seeds to plant acres, I’m sure. I love being able to share perennials and hand-me-down seeds when people comment on my flowers. My house and yard reflects me, no doubt.

Do you save seeds? Or am I just weird? Don’t answer that!

Simply,

Sis

A few weeks ago we had our first killing frost, marking the end of tomato season. This saddened me. But, after a game of tomato baseball all my cares were erased.  Now, on every surface of my freshly painted counter tops in my kitchen sits a tomato. Some green, some red and a whole bunch in between (but none naked).  My kitchen still smells like summer. It’s glorious.

Glorious that is, until Ben says, “What are you planning to do with these tomatoes?”

To which I replied, “Nothing.”

*A sharp look*

“I was planning on watching them turn from green to red. Wanna stand watch with me?”

*Banjo music*

“That’s what I thought.” Spnicker spnicker. I’ll just sit here alone with my thoughts. Lord knows what crazy thoughts I have…

My cellar is almost full of pickled peppers and beets, oven canned tomatoes, homemade salsa, and potatoes with butts and freakish looking carrots. The freezer is boastng apricots and antelope. Proving the benefits of getting your hands dirty and making hay when the sun shines. It feels good.

All that’s left to do is build a fire, plan my garden for next year and watch these tomatoes turn into red juicy goodness and finally a BLT.

Enough about me. Did you scavenge and save your green tomatoes or other goodies?  If so, how do you store them? Or were you so happy that it finally froze you threw a party?

Simply,

Sis

Look at this loot that I found at Lowes.

I got all of this (12 plants) for just over eleven bucks! Those huge mums were a dollar a piece. I divided them into twos and threes, so each mum plant cost thirty-three to fifty cents each. That’s cheaper than garage sale prices and didn’t even have to dicker. I thought it funny that Lowes is packed tight in the spring with buyers galore, but the place was all but empty when I was there.

One guy was puzzled at this and said, “Fall used to be the time of year people bought their stuff and planted it. I wonder what happened.”

I think it’s the disease of instant gratification. If you can wait until fall for your loot, the savings are huge. Along with huge savings your plants will be happier, especially shrubs. Shrubs spend all summer storing energy for the winter. If you plant them in the fall they can just kick back, instead of having to adjust to their new setting and store food when you plant them in the spring and summer. Of course some gardening mishaps are hard to avoid.

The only thing better than a big perennial clearance sale is a neighbor who is dividing and wants to share and trade. I’ve got one of them too. Life is pretty good here in my wheat field.

What are your money saving garden tips?

Simply,

Sis

Back in the day, I knew frost on the pumpkin would bring the boom. More importantly, the lowering of the boom. The boom was an old rusty spade that I would lift high above my head and smash down on the helpless frost bitten tomatoes. Their flesh and seeds would scatter across the garden and stop with a splat, when they got to my brothers. It was glorious. Glorious that is until they got a boom of their own (usually by confiscating mine.) Then it was my turn to get splatted.

We would lower the boom, use the boom to catapult naked tomatoes, and finally ditch the boom for a tomato fight with our hands. Because let’s face it, when mixed with enough youthful energy a hand shucker gives you the best crevice filling splat of all. My mom never cared if we lowered the boom, were covered in tomato bits and sauce or that we were utterly daffy in some twisted hillbilly way. This puzzled me for years until I had a couple of boys and a garden.

Who knew in this age of computers and video games lowering the boom on tomatoes would be somewhat out dated? Actually boring is what W and Barney called it. Like my mother before me, I had to think of something to entertain these war mongers while clearing the gardening and soaking up the last few bits of fall before the long days of winter set in. Tomato baseball was the answer. There is just something exhilarating about hitting a flying tomato and getting rewarded with a pink mist. I mean really, can life get any better than smashing a green tomato into the next wheat field or into your brother?

Regardless of the tomato sauce covered clothes to wash and seeds to pick from their teeth, it makes my heart sing when I see the smiles on their freashly freckled faces. It causes me to remember why we chose to live on this old farmstead and have a garden. That garden gave us bountiful produce for our bodies and a ton of free therapy for me. But my favorite gift from the garden is the final one, tomato baseball. It’s fall’s finest sport. I plan to play it every year with my kids and God willing teach it to my grand kids.

Life is good today.

Sis

You were great at helping name Bo’s gun. So humor me by giving these photos of carrots a caption, while I finish freezing these over achieving tubers and take advantage of this nice fall weather.

I’ll go first…

Sis~ Three toed Pete. (The poker game.)

Ben ~ It’s like the book… Trails in the Sand by Peter Dragon

Sis ~ Answering the age old question: Where does carrot juice come from?

Sis ~ The Molanator.

Sis ~ Elephant Man.

I know you’ll do better. Thanks for wasting some of your weekend with us!

Simply,

Sis

It’s been a pretty good gardening year, outside of a few mishaps. When the tomatoes really start coming on, that means onion harvest time here. A few weeks ago the onion tops laid over on the ground and started to dry out. I wanted them to hang out in the ground just a little longer but we got a bunch of rain that made their tops get mushy. So I made like an ant, before they rotted in the ground and picked them. Harvest is a neat time, it brings families together. The boys did most of the picking. After swinging them wildly at each other, they somehow all landed in the wheelbarrow. They did great, except for that half row of garlic…it’s MIA except for one little garlic head.

When I asked the kids about it they shrugged and said “Oh, yeah, we’ve seen them.”

“Where are the rest of them?”

*Sphnicker Sphnicker* “Couldn’t tell ya, Mom.”

Sometimes the less you know, the better. All I can say is, it must have been one heck of a battle. (It was probably nothing compared to when we play tomato baseball after the first hard freeze.) Anyway, that means, no garlic to dry and braid this year, just onions. Sniff. After the war ended, I took the load of onions to one of our four, three-sided sheds and laid the survivors on some wire mesh to dry.

What you want to remember when drying onions or garlic is, they need warm dry air circulating around them.

When the tops get good and dry…mine aren’t quite there. I braid them together like an old Mexican woman would braid garlic. (Just like in my dreams of Mexico.) If you don’t dream of Mexico, think of braiding hair, it’s really no different. Just start braiding and adding an onion, braiding and adding until your onions look like this.

Tie off the top somehow. Either by braiding the onion back into itself or with wire or string, onions don’t care how you do it. Here’s what the back looks like.

Nifty, isn’t it? They will hang out in my cellar until I use them this winter.

Look at them. Can’t you just smell the salsa?

Did you have a good onion crop this year?

Simply,

Sis

Here we are midsummer and gardens across the nation are producing wildly, including mine for the most part. I’m worried about my broccoli and cauliflower though… It doesn’t look so good.

It seems my broccoli has been stripped naked and my cauliflower is suffering from…oh I don’t know squatters.

In my garden, squatters don’t have rights, neither do their kids.

Before you call me in for neglect…let me say I did seven dust these a couple of times. I sang to them. I watered them. I loved them. This is the thanks I get.

My first year for growing broccoli and cauliflower, may well be the last. However,  give-up isn’t really in my vocabulary, here’s what I did to solve this gardening problem.

In the most safe natural and organic way…I called in the moving van for the squatters. I backed it in and even loaded them and their household on the truck.

Like a giant redneck mobile home caravan we went off to to find them a new home. (I can say that…I’m a redneck who has lived in a mobile home. No harm no foul. Just trying to paint you a picture.)

I drove them across our land to a sanctuary.

This is my burn pile. I think they will like it here.

I carefully unloaded them. Gave them a nice drink of gasoline and threw a match on them and ‘ran like the wind, Bullseye,’ until I reached the safe zone.

Problem solved.

No more squatters.

Green, organic and effective.

I’m sure with this hot gardening tip I’ll get the gardener of the year award followed by a master gardeners certificate. Goody goody.

No autographs, please.

Stay tuned for more gardening tips…

From the Rock Star of Gardeners.

Sandhill Sis

Have you ever noticed America’s work ethic is dwindling at a record pace?

Our friend, a first generation, self-made millionaire, has a lot to say about this. He contributes it to the fact that people don’t understand the law of the harvest. Every generation that isn’t raised on a farm, is one more generation that doesn’t understand…if you don’t get up out of bed and care for crops and animals even in the worst conditions, you will become extinct.

America was built on the bounty of lots and lots of ants. Now we have lots of money sucking leeches. The old parable The Ant and The Grasshopper called these lazy folks grasshoppers. What most lazy grasshoppers forget is…ants feed them. Someday the smarty pants, capitalistic ants will tire of feeding the socialist grasshoppers and the gravy train will dry up. (Just ask those folks in Europe.)

Here in my wheat field we quote my Dad and say “We gotta make hay while the sun shines.”

What that means is. If you don’t work, you don’t eat. Period. A noble concept isn’t it? In fact it’s stupid simple. I like simple.

The American farmer or any other entrepreneurial spirited person understands this. If the forecast says rain for the next five days and you have hay on the ground, it’s going to be ruined if you don’t bale it. If you don’t bale it, in January when the snow flies, your livestock (cattle, sheep, horses, chickens, goats) or whatever will starve. Starving animals mean starving families, and money and futures down the drain.

I encourage you to teach your children the law of the harvest and how grasshoppers are pride-less cowards that don’t thrive. There’s a storm brewing. The rain clouds are building. We all need to make hay while the sun shines.

Simply,

Sis