Grow Your Own
(Page 3 of 13)
May/June 1970
By Jeanie Darlington
I covered the compost pile with black plastic and it never smelled I kept the pile moist and turned it after a few weeks. After a month, I began to see evidence of a "black crumbly substance" and I was thrilled. This style of gardening really appealed to me. I felt a bit like an alchemist. Later on, when I began to see the effects of this "black gold" on my plants, I really believed in compost!
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Meanwhile, my 10' by 10' garden was coming along. Eight tomato plants crammed in amongst broccoli, zuccini, italian cocozelle, bell pepper, eggplant, beets, lettuce, italian flat beans, snow peas, and way too much swiss chard, out of loyalty to an early childhood memory. The taste of swiss chard from the neighborhood victory garden will always remain with me. A delicious earthy taste that I hadn't forgotten, despite the disappearance of swiss chard after the war - on our table anyway.
My parents had always been enthusiastic gardeners. They had a compost pile and they threw around words like humus and manure (titter, giggle).
I used to help my father root pachysandra cuttings in flats of sand, 100 plants per flat, a penny a plant. It was great fun. He used the plant as a ground cover in shady spots and under trees. My parents spent almost every available minute of the weekends in the yard, cutting grass, pruning roses, planting annuals, dividing perenniels, and planting new trees. They claimed it was fun and relaxing. Now I see what they meant.
Working with the earth, smelling it, improving it, watching things grow in it made me feel good. It slowed me down and made life seem OK even if I was depressed or sad.
And so the first summer went by. Some failures, but not many. Mostly great success. Squash to give away, chinese pea pods that melted in our mouths, and the most delicious beans I had ever eaten. There were wonderful sweet tomatoes - all kinds - Beefsteak, Spring Giant, Pearson, Ace, Earliana, Jubilee, red pear, and cherry, all the way up to Thanksgiving. And lots of swiss chard.
There were very few bugs and absolutely no need for poisons. The few bugs I had were controlled by putting ashes on wet leaves, planting marigolds and using a home ground onion-pepper-garlic spray. The Mexican bean beetle was there, but we still had plenty of beans.
The tomatoes, planted too close together, twined all around each other and broke the stakes supporting them, but we still had plenty of tomatoes. And the hay mulch kept them from rotting.
Mulch, that mysterious word, was largely responsible for the success of the garden. The early summer sun had been baking and cracking the hard soil, and I knew I needed more humus. My compost was on the way, but it would take several months. I did add some more manure and this helped some. Then I discovered mulch. Each month, Organic Gardening magazine would arrive with more good ideas to help me. I only wished I could have known it all to begin with.
Mulch is a layer of organic matter laid down on top of the soil around the plants and between the rows. It keeps the soil temperature even, holds moisture in discourages weeds, prevents a hard top crust on the soil and eventually decays into rich humus.
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