May 20, 2003 link
I’ve been thinking about weeds recently. Since I spend so much time digging them up and cutting them down, I start noticing things about them.
Different patches of land grow different types of weeds. When you walk around the city, you can notice all kinds of weeds. But generally, the weeds in a certain location are only two or three varieties. Some areas are covered in waving grasses. Others are thick groves of Ailanthus trees. Others are choked with crabgrass and dandelions.
An ecologist could learn about a piece of land by studying its weeds. Certain weeds prefer different soil conditions. Some can thrive on dry gravel; others need damp shade. History also plays a role. A recently-abandoned lot will foster fast-growing pioneer weeds. Older areas will have tall grasses. I don’t know much about weed-ecology, but I am starting to notice the overall patterns.
My yard is covered in weeds, but only three types:
- dandelions
- violets (the state flower of Illinois)
- cockleburs
Luckily, I haven’t seen any crabgrass back there. That stuff is almost impossible to eradicate. In my previous garden, little blades of grass would grow up between everything. By the end of summer, the crabgrass would be two feet high, with long seed spires sticking up.
Now that I’m clearing out the existing weeds, I wonder if other types will take their place.
May 19, 2003 link
Over the weekend, I cleared more land and planted:
- Zucchini: 3-4 of ‘em
- Cilantro: a little patch
- Onions: 3 rows, plus scattered around
- Collards: 2 rows
I also chopped down a few weedy trees that were growing in the back of the yard. I’m starting to realize that my space is not unlimited. Yes—the yard is big (by city standards), but I’ll just barely be able to fit everything in. Originally, I thought I’d never be able to fill it… Still remaining: tomatoes, sweet peppers, jalapeno peppers, cucumber, pumpkin, chickpeas, okra, green beans.
May 16, 2003 link
The Christian Science Monitor published a good article on eating locally. They talk about farmers’ markets, community supported agriculture (CSA) and Whole Foods—but I was disappointed that they didn’t mention an even more fundamental idea: growing your own. It doesn’t get any more local than than your own backyard. Total shipping distance = 25 feet.
May 13, 2003 link
I’ve never met another guy my age that shares my passion for growing food. When people can buy New Zealand apples or Mexican tomatoes year-round, those that grow stuff in their backyards are seen as a bit eccentric, no matter what their age. And I know plenty of dudes (including myself, at times) whose only vegetable intakes are incidental, as pizza or sandwich toppings. Why bother with veggies when you can take vitamins, right?
So why would an average 26-year-old guy decide to have a vegetable garden? I could cite a variety of health, social, economic and environmental reasons in support of gardening, but those have been covered elsewhere. And to most people, those reasons aren’t totally compelling. They make sense in theory, but not enough to drive a person to serious “growing experiments”. I think the real allure of gardening is much more personal.
Why do I grow food? I believe it’s in my blood. As American homesteaders, my ancestors ranched and farmed the plains of South Dakota and Iowa. Even today, my Grandpa Smiley fondly recounts tales of driving cattle and working on the farm. As a child, I remember visiting my grandparents in Iowa for fresh sweet corn and rhubarb pies. Here in Illinois, my own parents raised a giant rasberry patch that made all the neighbors jealous.
Even on the outskirts of Chicago, my childhood was surrounded by working farms. I used to trespass into the cornfields to pick blackberries from a neglected streambank. And build tree-forts in the wooded edges of soybean fields. Scattered throughout town were many stately farmhouses, sheep pastures and other symbols of rural life. Over the years, I watched farms self-destruct one-by-one to make way for suburban sprawl.
With memories like these, how could I turn my back on agriculture? It would be an insult to my own history.
This history is the shared history of all Americans (and people everywhere). We all have farming in our blood. For many—like me—it’s only a matter of one or two generations.
So why do I grow food? It comes naturally to me. I follow my impulses. Am I the only one? I suspect there are many guys my age with similar impulses—only they choose to ignore them. Even so, I don’t feel so eccentric when I think about this fact. Yeah—I’m the only guy I know with a “growing experiment”. But there are many generations behind me, and many ahead.
May 12, 2003 link
Hold onto your butts. It’s go-time. The next few weeks will determine the success or failure of the “growing experiment”. Things are about to get craaaaaaaaazziieeeyyyy!
With our recent abundance of rain and steadily-warming temperatures, the weeds are starting to assert themselves in a major way. If they are not controlled, they will win. Over the next 3-4 weeks, here’s what needs to happen:
- Finish tilling the soil. About half the yard has been prepared. The other half is thick with weeds.
- Mulch the paths. The walkways between veggie rows will be covered in shredded bark mulch. It will keep the weeds down, and keep my shoes from getting muddy.
- Finish planting (tomatoes, peppers, okra, eggplant, cucumbers, zucchini, pumpkin, onions, collards, beans, etc.)
- Mulch around the plants. Once the plants get big enough, I’ll mulch their beds and rows to conserve soil moisture.
In other words, I need to “finish” the garden. Then it becomes a matter of regular watering and weeding—which is no small task either. But it will be about maintenance, rather than scrambling to get things in place.
May 6, 2003 link
One of the two rhubarb plants is emerging. The lettuce is up. The radish plants are getting bigger—they need thinning. The (still-indoors) jalapenos have finally germinated. The arugula is looking good. A few onion shoots are pushing up. Even after Sunday’s storms, most of the broccoli plants are still alive. (Keeping fingers crossed.)
May 5, 2003 link
Over the weekend, I did some more tilling and planting. Things are really coming together, even though it still looks like a big barren patch of dirt. Currently, about one-half of the yard is mine; the other half still belongs to the weeds. Here’s what I planted:
- Broccoli seedlings—which were growing inside—were planted in the ground. They are so scrawny. If they survive, it will be a miracle.
- Sage, Dill and Oregano will form semi-permanent patches over the years, I hope.
- Onions are scattered around in various spots. Whenever I plant something, I also plant a few onions nearby. They repel pests with their strong flavor and scent.
I also planted okra indoors in peat pots. This was the last of the indoor plantings. Everything else goes directly in the ground. I’m tired of having these little seedlings in my living room. Even under the flourescent lighting, they don’t grow very well. They have a tendency to get scrawny and weak, plus they dry out very quickly. They belong outdoors. One more month to go…
While digging in the yard, I found a few wild climbing roses. I kept them. I also found plenty of orange daylilies, which spread like weeds around these parts. I like them, so I left a few patches. I read somewhere that daylilies are edible. I couldn’t bring myself to try eating the young shoots, but maybe I’ll eat a few orange flowers later this summer.
April 29, 2003 link
Just a few notes for today…
- The radishes and arugula have sprouted. And in nice straight lines. I guess the birds didn’t do that much damage to the seeds.
- I set my indoor seedling trays outside today. The baby plants need to be accustomed to outdoor conditions before they are planted permanently in the ground. I’ll bring the trays in for the night.
- We’ve had a dry Spring around here. Instead of “April Showers”, we’ve had warm sunny days—which thrills most Spring-starved Chicagoans. But it screws with the ecosystem. Yesterday, there was a large brush fire just north of the city. It was caused by the dry conditions. If the drought continues, the region’s groundwater could be depleted, which spells trouble for both plants and people.
April 25, 2003 link
It’s cool to hear from readers of this site. Recently, I’ve received several emails from friends, acquaintances and strangers. I appreciate hearing from all of you.
It’s especially cool that some people are inspired to try their own “great growing experiments”. I hope my writing shows that even a normal dude (or gal) can grow stuff. It’s not rocket-science, and it’s not just for grannies and hippies.
It’s even cooler that my neighbor j3s from FuckCorporateGroceries is being inspired by my work. I’ve been reading her work for several years—not just for the local food information, but also for her nice pictures of Chicago and her graffiti gallery.
Jes, check out The Edible Container Garden for inspiration about growing food in small spaces. They have it at the Chicago Public Library.
April 24, 2003 link
While I was planting seeds, there were these two white pigeons on a nearby rooftop. They were just sitting there watching me for about two hours, sometimes cooing curiously.
After I went inside, the pigeons swooped down to inspect my work. To them, it was an all-you-can-eat lunch buffet. They started digging around for seeds, and even pulled up a few baby onions. (They didn’t like the onions, so they just left them on the ground.)
Maybe I should erect a scare-pigeon, but it probably wouldn’t work. These pigeons around here aren’t afraid of people. They’ll walk around your feet on the sidewalk.
Oh well. Nothing has germinated yet, so it’s difficult to see the extent of the damage.
April 23, 2003 link
I took a day off (real) work today, which allowed me to get some more (garden) work done. At this point, slightly less than half the yard has been tilled and raked. Many seeds have been planted. Excellent.
I actually look forward to the shovel work. It’s intense work, but more comfortable than crouching over to plant seeds.
- Arugula sounds like something I made up. Many people have never heard of it, but they’ve usually eaten it before. It’s got an earthy, slightly-bitter taste that I like. It has a tendency to drop seeds, so hopefully I’ll end up with a semi-permanent arugula patch.
- Parsley also drops seeds, so it could potentially form a nice little parsley patch. The more work I can save next year, the better.
- Cosmos is a type of flower I planted just for kicks. It tolerates dry, hot conditions which I can happily provide. That’s my specialty.
- Carrots do not impress me. I enjoy them from time-to-time, but I wasn’t planning on growing any. Then the seed company sent me two free packets of carrot seeds. So I planted three rows of carrots. If space runs short, I might tear them out.
- Onions were planted at the end of each row to mark them. Onions are helpful to scatter around the garden, because they repel nasty critters. I’ll be scattering more onions once the entire garden starts to take shape.
So far, I’ve planted lots of miscellaneous herbs and stuff, but nothing too exciting. For me, this stuff is just filler. The real fun begins with the “big-time” vegetables—like tomatoes, peppers, cucumbers and green beans. As they say in the Marines, “Hoo-Ah!”
April 21, 2003 link
I woke up early (for me) on Saturday to get some work done in the garden. My goal was to turn over as much soil as possible, and then plant some seeds.
I started tilling the ground—one shovel-full at a time. It was hard labor, but I loved it. I was amazed by my own energy levels, especially for a Saturday morning. I was able to prepare a rectangular area approximately 20 x 15 feet. Next I smoothed it with a rake, created furrows and planted two rows each of lettuce and radishes.
- Lettuce needs cool weather to grow properly. I chose Black-Seeded Simpson, which is loose-leaf lettuce—as opposed to those dense heads of Iceberg Lettuce you find at the store. Leaf lettuce has more flavor, and can be harvested one leaf at a time for small salads.
- Radishes also need cool weather. The problem with radishes is: Is there any way to eat them except for “raw”? Good thing I like raw radishes, because I planted lots of them.
I planted one other thing, which is kind of bizarre. But I decided to try it.
- Rhubarb reminds me of summers at Grandma’s house, when she used to make rhubarb pies. I planted two big plants, which will last for years. Unfortunately, they won’t be ready to harvest until next year.
By mid-afternoon, my wussie web-geek hands were covered in blisters. Otherwise, I would have kept digging and planting. Looks like I need some work gloves.
April 14, 2003 link
On your marks, get set, go. The “race” matches two opponents for control over a tiny patch of Earth. In this corner, we have “The Champ”, also known as Mother Nature. And in this corner, “The Challenger”, also known as Guy With Shovel. Mother Nature has a head-start, but the Challenger is determined.
The next two months will set the tone for the entire race. The Challenger will plant, water, weed and mulch—trying desperately to keep up with The Champ’s increasing temps and persistent weeds. Whoever takes an early lead will win the race…until they meet again next year.
It’s 80 degrees in Chicago today, which is a departure from our typical 55-60 degree April temperatures. Saturday was my first workday in the yard. It was productive, but I also remembered that the yard is huge. There is no time to waste.
I invited Tom to bring his Chicago TreeKeepers expertise to some struggling shrubs. We discovered that the lilac bush was surrounded by watersprouts, vertical branches growing up around the base of the tree. Eventually, these would kill the tree—by robbing the upper branches of water and nutrition. Tom chopped them all off, leaving a strong bare trunk.
Next, we chopped down two 25-foot Ailanthus trees, which have been bugging me since I moved in. I hate Ailanthus, also known as Tree of Heaven. These things are everywhere. I grimace whenever I see one in someone’s yard. Some people can’t bring themselves to chop down a tree, but they should get over it. Not all trees are good. Ailanthus needs to be destroyed. The U.S. government has labeled them an Ecological Threat:
“Tree-of-heaven is a prolific seed producer, grows rapidly, and can overrun native vegetation. Once established, it can quickly take over a site and form an impenetrable thicket. Ailanthus trees also produces toxins that prevent the establishment of other plant species. The root system is aggressive enough to cause damage to sewers and foundations.”
And they smell like crap.
It was very satisfying to hear them crack and fall to the ground. I took out my aggression by sawing them into shorter logs for fence posts and markers. I now have a pile of dead Ailanthus logs, which makes me smile whenever I see it. Score one for “The Challenger”.
April 11, 2003 link
Another 20-something dude writes about the strange allure of gardening:
The Secret Gardener, by Clay Risen. “After hours of work I can always say I have done something, and it is good, undeniably, simply, good.”
April 4, 2003 link
Last night, I planted the second batch of indoor seeds.
- Jalapeno Peppers were planted in peat pots, which will protect their roots during transplanting. There’s something cool about growing hot peppers. They’re a bad-ass vegetable.
- Basil isn’t bad-ass, but I like the taste. Nothing beats the flavor of pesto, especially in the summer.
- Marigolds aren’t vegetables, but the flowers are edible. I don’t plan on eating mine, just using them to fill-in empty garden space. They also repel evil bugs and worms…and they’re one of the cheapest, easiest seeds you can buy. I’m not really into flowers, but why not plant some marigolds?
My flourescent lights will be blazing 24-7 for the next few weeks. These seedlings have a long way to go before they’re ready to be placed outside.
March 31, 2003 link
I built a chart to keep track of my garden expenses. I want to get an idea of how much it costs. It would be interesting to compare with the cost of buying an equivalent amount of organic groceries.
March 28, 2003 link
The broccoli, mint and thyme are growing. The broccoli seedlings are several inches tall, but still have only one set of leaves. The thyme has formed a fuzzy carpet of green in its seed flat. And the mint (notoriously difficult from seed) is starting to show some barely-visible signs of life—poking a few tiny green seedlings from the soil.
I’m going to need another flourescent light. The broccoli seedlings spent their first week about 14 inches from the light, causing them to stretch their spindly white stems toward it, rather than developing thick green stems.
March 17, 2003 link
In an urban area, it’s hard to find seedling trays in early March. For the past few weekends, I’ve been searching for them. I finally found some yesterday, but I had to drive to the suburbs to get them. I also bought a big flourescent light to help the baby plants grow.
Yesterday, I filled the seed flats with soil, and planted the earliest wave of seeds.
- Broccoli is the first vegetable to be started indoors, and one of the first to be transplanted outdoors. It needs cool weather to grow properly. I like growing broccoli. The big bluish-green leaves are kinda neat.
- Mint is not usually grown from seed, but transplanted from cuttings of a mature plant. But I decided to try it anyway. The seeds are like dust, and I scattered them over a big seed flat. The great thing about mint is that it’s a vigorous perennial, so once it gets established in the yard, I’ll never have to plant it again. Do I have any use for fresh mint? Not really, but it’s easy to grow and it spreads.
- Thyme is also a perennial. I want to grow as many perennials as possible, especially low-maintenance ground-covers like mint and thyme. I filled a whole tray with thyme seeds.
I covered the flats with clear plastic wrap to hold the moisture, and set them under the flourescent light. Now the waiting begins.
March 10, 2003 link
We finally got a few big snowstorms to help dampen the ground. Also, Tom offered to help in the garden—which is cool. He’ll get to share the harvest. His tree-pruning knowledge will also be very helpful.
I’ve always thought a food garden should be a group-effort, not a solitary pursuit. The growing of food—and the enjoyment of the harvest—have always been a key aspect of human communities and families. Many people don’t get to participate in the growing side of things these days. And even those people who like to plant gardens, often do it alone.
Anybody who wants to help in my garden is welcome. An hour of their time, or a whole growing season. Their effort will be rewarded. That’s my philosophy.
February 26, 2003 link
The seeds are here. It’s funny how an entire vegetable garden can be delivered in a medium-sized brown envelope.
February 7, 2003 link
It’s been a cold, dry winter. When you’re shivvering on the el platform, cheeks stinging from the minus-20 windchill, it seems ludicrous to think about the garden. But a month from now, I’ll start planting the first seeds. Most of them will start indoors in seedling trays. A few will go directly into the ground.
But first, I must order the seeds. I’ve spent the last month browsing the seed catalogs, trying to determine how much I can manage. I want to grow as many vegetables as possible, without overdoing it. There are several things to keep in mind while choosing my crops:
- The yard is big. If I filled the entire space with vegetables, it would be way too much. Plus, I would be overwhelmed. I want to fill-in the gaps with Illinois-native perrenials, but they will take a few years to establish and spread.
- The weeds will be vicious. Just a few months ago, the space was covered by giant weeds. It will take a few years to get them under-control.
- Watering will be difficult. I don’t own the property. I don’t have access to an outdoor faucet. Thus, I must water manually. I’m trying to choose plants with low water requirements. Those with the greatest water needs will be placed closer to the house.
- My time is limited. I will water and weed in the early mornings and evenings, plus weekends.
Despite these challenges, I’m looking forward to “The Great Growing Experiment”. By recognizing the challenges in February, I think my expectations will be reasonable in August. Now I just need to order those seeds…March will be here before I know it.
