Mulching with Fresh Kelp

Photo by Gayla Trail  All Rights Reserved

I traveled to Rhode Island a few weeks ago on what was a whirlwind 24 hour (including transport time) trip to shoot a food gardening segment for the show Cultivating Life. I’ll tell you about that some other time. They had ducks!

However, what I would like to tell you about today were the planters I saw sitting outside of Coastal Roasters in Tiverton, Rhode Island when we stopped so that I could be properly caffeinated with real coffee (I am a terrible coffee snob) before braving six hours in an airport that reminds me of the movie Logan’s Run. Because that’s the only Logan I know, and The Carousel is not the mental image I prefer to have before flying. Sure, we’re all just going to step onto this “plane”, defy gravity by flying high in the sky and land safely at our destination. RIGHT.

Except that I clearly lived to tell so back to the planters. They were mulched with FRESH kelp, from the sea. In fact, the coffee shop sat next to the water with a view of a small, pebble beach. I could see kelp while I sipped my coffee. Just sitting there. This is the kind of little detail about traveling to new places that I get abnormally excited about. One does not have to buy (as I do yearly) a bag of dried kelp or liquid kelp concentrate that has been shipped from some unknown place. No, one can just step outside and scoop up a handful for plants that are growing within a few feet. Here was the view:

Photo by Gayla Trail  All Rights Reserved

And here is the container with a thick layer of nutrient-rich, fresh kelp laid on top of the soil as mulch:

Photo by Gayla Trail  All Rights Reserved
Please forgive my terrible photo. This was taken with my crappy point and shoot digital and it does not read contrast well. The blown out white thing is a crab shell. Also a pretty good fertilizer! And somewhat decorative too.

It’s pretty, don’t you think? I have never seen such colourful kelp! The stuff I get in a bag is always the same uniformly-coloured grey/green.

Kelp makes a great mulch and plant fertilizer. Here’s why:

  • It’s loaded with potassium and a bunch of other trace minerals. Potassium is a container gardener’s friend since it is an overall plant stress reliever, and container plants generally tend to experience more stress than in-ground gardens.
  • It’s got plant growth hormones in it that can help your plants grow stronger.
  • Kelp breaks down into the soil very quickly, conditioning the soil, improving texture, and fertilizing all at once. Yes please.
  • It does not carry weed seeds, unlike hay (and sometimes straw when it is mislabeled. Boo).
  • It does not share diseases with land plants that could be spread to your garden.

I’d suggest rinsing off the salt and salty sand before adding it to your garden but a lot of seaside gardeners say they don’t bother and their plants are fine. I’d also recommend not taking too much from any one area since there are lots of critters that depend on the seaweed that washes onto the shore for their food and shelter.

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Daddy Long Legs (Phalangium opilio)

Photo by Gayla Trail  All Rights Reserved

I found this daddy long legs (Phalangium opilio), a close spider relative but not an actual spider, sitting quietly on my cucumber plant the other day. I looked it up in my “Garden Bugs of Ontario” book (thanks again Chair!), and it turns out they go by another name, harvestmen. No idea of the origin but I am assuming that has something to do with the fact that they can shed a leg when under attack.

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Mid and Late-Season Planting

My latest Globe and Mail Microfarming article came out on Saturday. I’ve included the text below.

My editor sent a photographer out this time so there are some pictures in the printed version not taken by me, and one of me planting arugula online. I didn’t lay chickenwire over the flat as protection after planting, and that night the raccoons dug it up. They’ve been busy diggers this summer! What are they looking for?

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The time is ripe for mid-season planting

A gardener friend recently gave me a few pinches of wild Italian arugula seed, Rucola selvatica, the most fantastic arugula I have ever seen or tasted. The leaves are peppery and pungent yet delicate, unlike the hairy self-seeder I inherited at my community garden plot from its former resident. I can’t wait to grow those seeds into salads; fortunately, I don’t have to wait until next year to get started.

Contrary to popular belief, spring is not the only season for planting. In fact, arugula is one of several crops that actually prefer conditions at the end of the growing season, when the climate shifts to progressively cooler temperatures.

By contrast, trying to grow arugula and other tender, leafy greens as the summer heat rises is an exercise in futility. The leaves grow bitter and tough (if they grow much at all) and the plants rush to produce seeds like their life depends on it.

And that’s because it does. Just like us, plants get rather antsy about procreating before their time comes. Living with the stress of heat and drought signals cool-loving plants to get on with the business of reproduction sooner rather than later. Root veggies suffer a similar fate. They go straight to the flower-making stage, completely skipping the part you want most, the bulbous root.

The good news is that the end of summer isn’t the end of the gardening season but the beginning of another chance to reap further rewards from your garden before the year is out.

When to sow a late-season crop depends on how long that plant takes to reach maturity. To begin, check the number of “Days to Harvest” listed on the back of the seed packet. For example, arugula takes about 40 days. Tack on a week or two to the total time to account for the slower growth rate of plants as the days and nights get progressively cooler. Next, calculate the sow date by subtracting the total number of days from the “First Frost Date” for your region (www.almanac.com provides listings).

Fast-growing lettuce, spinach, chard, radicchio, endive, mâche and mustard greens can be sown into September or later if you’re on the West Coast. Broccoli, kale, cauliflower, cabbage, turnips, kohlrabi, Brussels sprouts, collards, peas, beets, carrots, parsnips and radishes love the last half of the growing season. When to sow varies wildly among veggies, so calculate individually.

Sow annual herbs including basil, cilantro, pansy and viola seeds right now. Better yet, speed the process up and double your bounty by taking cuttings from basil, mint, oregano, rosemary and other herbs that sprout roots easily in a glass of water.

Early fall is also one of the best times to make a permanent home in the edible garden for hardy perennial herbs, fruit bushes and trees. The cooler season is much more forgiving on new transplants and gives the roots a chance to get established before the winter forces the plant into dormancy. It just so happens that most garden stores are eager to get rid of their stock in the fall. Take advantage of end-of-the-season sales to get big discounts on oregano, marjoram, thyme, sage, sorrel, mint, blueberries, strawberries, currant bushes, grapes and apple, plum, peach and pear trees. While the bounty will be meager to nothing this year, you’ll get a bumper crop of fresh herbs in the earliest spring straight through to the following winter and beyond.

- Originally printed in The Globe & Mail (July 25, 2009)

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Slugs and Snails: A Paradox

Photo by Gayla Trail  All Rights Reserved

Why is it that I can crush a slug underfoot, albeit with some trepidation? But when it comes to snails, forget it. They are carefully transferred to another area away from my lettuce and kale.

I’ll let a snail slime all over my hand without wincing or cringing. Slugs? No way! Slugs creep me out just a little bit.

And yet when you think about it, what are snails but a slug-like creature living inside a pretty little shell.

I accidentally brought one home from the community garden on a head of lettuce yesterday. It is now living in a small terrarium with a stem from my currant bush until I get a chance to release it “back into the wild.” I would never show that kind of compassion or care for a slug.

For me, it comes down to the fact that these snails are some of the first wild creatures of my childhood. There was a time when I would spend recess tromping around in a ditch at the side of the school yard searching for these elusive, exotic critters. It was a victory to find one and I would spend the few minutes before the bell letting it crawl over my hand, considering its movements with great interest and wonder. The landscape of my childhood was primarily a tiny postage stamp yard in a townhouse complex and my grandmother’s hi-rise apartment balcony. We had sparrows, yellow jacket hornets, neighborhood cats, and the occasional pigeon, but no snails.

It turns out that in this part of the world this particular type of snail is neither elusive nor exotic — the state of my cabbage are a testament to their numbers. Yet they still hold that fascination for me: the way they extend and contract their antennae; the speed at which they can get around in what appears to be an almost sliding motion with their house firmly affixed to their backs. Snails are a marvel really, and so cool to watch.

Yes, my feelings towards them is primarily nostalgic and a bit self-centered, but for me my paradoxical relationship to snails and slugs in the garden are one of many lessons in seeing the value in all the living creatures, even the pests.

Does that sound too Pollyanna-ish?

There is a lot of focus in gardening literature on getting rid of the offending creatures. An abundance of battle analogies. Believe me, I’m guilty of using this kind of language myself. And at times I have truly felt at war and at odds with all sorts of critters. That’s probably not going to go away entirely, nor do I think it is meant to. There is nothing unhealthy in being self-interested when it comes to keeping your garden alive and productive. I want my currant bushes to make fruit. I want to eat at least some of the tomatoes I grow.

Yet, it is also healthy to stand back from the war making, fighting battles, and rallying of the troops now and again to discover and cultivate a sense of awe and respect for the critters that we share space with, including those that are at odds with our agendas as gardeners.

Maybe next week I’ll take a few minutes to cultivate a sense of wonder and respect for the slugs…. before I proceed to crush them underneath my shoe.

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How to Compost and Reduce Waste

Photo by Gayla Trail  All Rights Reserved

Since The City of Toronto is week three into a city workers strike that includes garbage collection, it appears (see above) to be a very good time to reintroduce some resources on small space composting.

One sure-fire, easy way to compost that I haven’t included here is to dig a hole. Yes, like the infomercials say, It is that easy! Dig a deep hole, put the scraps into the hole and cover it over. Done. Dig a really deep hole if you plan to bury crab and shrimp shells, fish parts, or anything that might attract vermin. Your plants will love it!

In lieu of digging a hole, I present to you these other very viable options:

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