The Garlic That Almost Wasn't

2013 Bird Garlic Crop

The picture to your immediate right will indeed confirm that the 2013 garlic crop is indeed planted in the Bird Back 40! Not just planted -- but literally jumping out of raised beds that dot our crazy little cul-de-sac corner dedicated to all things vegetable and fruit. 

So what's the big deal? We grow garlic every year, right? Well, yes, that is true. Except that this year it nearly didn't happen. This year was nearly a complete bust thanks to election limits on my free time and the Ultimate Digging Machine known as Bandi the adorable mutt.

Damaged Planter Bed

As it turns out  -- the mutt is good at not just digging. Seems she can take apart a planter bed with one swift kick of a back leg. And she managed to do just that some weeks back -- destroying a planter bed that was destined to hold the Bird 2013 garlic crop.

I have always wondered how long these cheaply constructed gardening beds were going to last -- and now I know. Profiled here several years ago, it appears these "gardening beds on a budget" have a lifespan of five to six years. After that? It's time to repair, rebuild or in my case, start from square one.

Ultimate Digging Machine at Play

The first hint of trouble came when I spotted fresh dirt on the ground and knew that digging doggy had been up to no darn good. Bandi is clearly past her "puppy stage," but that playful and somewhat destructive side does surface every now and then. That's especially true if she spots a vole (field mouse) duck into one of the beds.

A vole? I must DIG! I must FIND! Do voles taste like BACON? I must find out!

Although the cats that grace the Bird Back 40 get their fair share of "vole treats," these thing reproduce so quickly and in such massive numbers that there's always one or two for Bandi to chase in a futile effort from gardening bed to gardening bed. Keep in mind, she never does catch one. She just leaves her tell-tale sign behind, which is usually a nice little hole in the ground or bed.

Yes Fred, I know. You warned me. You were right.

Gardening Bed Damaged Beyond Repair

When I first noticed that the Ultimate Digging Machine had partially destroyed part of one of my older planter beds, my thoughts first turned to "repair." A few well placed gold screws, I believed, would solve this problem. After all -- the bed had been screwed together once before. It certainly could be repaired in the same fashion, right?

Wrong.

I would come to discover that the Ultimate Digging Machine had finished what Mother Nature started a long time ago. Wood that once those golden screws so securely was now so brittle that it fell apart into tiny pieces at the slightest touch. It was done. It was finished. There would be no repair. There would be no 2013 garlic crop.

Or so I first thought.

Damaged Gardening Bed Logs

But the more I thought about it? I just couldn't let it go. This bed has been the source of so many mouthwatering crops and harvests that I just could not write it off. I grew champion Cherokee Purple tomatoes in this bed! Last summer's crop of green onions and several different types of basil was raided quite often I must say. Lettuce had grown here in the fall. The last harvest had been a fat onion crop.

Let it go? Write it off? Leave a big hole in the ground? Perish the thought. As Oscar Goldman of Six Million Dollar Man fame once intoned: "We Can Rebuild Him." It wouldn't be easy. This was bare, open ground when I built the first bed five years ago. There was nothing to get in the way. The rose bush to the left of the bed was added later. That honeysuckle vine covering up our second beehive was added later. And that nice little sidewalk framing the bed against the fence was added just this spring.

Gardening Bed and Drip Irrigation System Removed

In other words, I didn't have a lot of room to operate. And, to add insult to injury, the old bed would have to be removed piece by piece, along with the drip irrigation system, before I could proceed with new bed building efforts. Removing an old, wooden garden bed is quite the inconvenience to the Black Widow spiders and other creepy-crawlers that had since moved in and long ago called it home.

The first step involved removing numerous layers of gardening soil. It was removed the same way it was added -- with shovel and wheelbarrow. I would come to discover that those golden screws that had held the bed together so securely years ago had since disintegrated and would sometimes just break into two brittle pieces upon removal. Some of these "Lincoln logs" as I call them were so brittle they easily snapped into two or three pieces once they were removed. Years of gardening and usage, plus natural elements of rain, cold and heat can do a lot of damage.

We Can Rebuild Him

Yet -- up and out the old bed came -- piece by piece -- leaving surprised spiders and insects to bolt and scramble away. I was left with a bare spot in the ground and started over with the same system I had employed so many years ago: Assemble the new bed in layers, stack, align, screw and reinforce. The re-installation of the drip irrigation system allowed me to make several improvements that will serve to save precious water supplies, yet ensure that the irrigation reaches every last corner.

By the end of the day? The new bed, which looks a lot like the old bed (minus the black widow spiders), had been installed. Old, tired soil was mixed in with some new planter mix and compost, and what was once old and tired was new again. Venus planted the garlic varieties of Lokalen, Bogatyr and California Late White in short order. The cloves have since sprouted, and everything looks just dandy.

Goodbye Old Bed: Hello Potash!

As for the remains from the old bed? I have quite the growing pile of lumber scraps from previous bed building efforts and other "around-the-house" projects. I wasn't interested in growing the size of that scrap pile, which is why I was happy to have a handy-dandy fire pit installed this previous spring.

Old wood burns fast and hot and leaves behind a helpful gardening supplement: potash or potassium, which is an essential ingredient for any gardening project.

And, as for the Ultimate Digging Machine? She most definitely approves of the new addition. Here's hoping that next "urge" to dig strikes in places where I want to add additional fruit trees next spring.

You Like Melons? Bill Bird LIKES MELONS!!!

Let me rephrase that title just a tad: Bill Bird just doesn't *like* melons. He LOVES melons. You've heard of a Renaissance Man? Call me a Melon Man. There's nothing quite like that sweet taste of summertime sugar fruit that comes straight out of a San Joaquin Valley Field -- or better yet -- your own backyard.

I'm not sure when my love affair with all things melon began -- but it's been with me for quite some time. I literally faint at the luscious site of a watermelon half converted into a bowl that contains a fruity mix of fruit salad. One of my favorite events to cover during my television and reporting days in Fresno was the famous Kingsburg Watermelon Festival -- where you could chow down on as much melon as you could possibly consume.

Note: Bill Bird can consume a lot of melon. He proved that over the course of several Kingsburg summer festivals. "I'll cover this one boss," I would volunteer. "I'll see you in eight or nine hours." When reminded by the News Director that covering the festival was a two or three hour job, my retort was always, "not if you want a serious reporting job boss."

Venus and I devote one half of an 8X8 planter bed to our passion. She's more partial to Cantaloupe -- but fell in love with an heirloom watermelon variety last year called Moon and Stars. And -- sure enough -- Venus' favorite melon is back this year -- planted in more than one raised bed.

As for why the most wonderful wife in the world prefers the Moon and Stars -- I'm not sure -- but it might be the size. Venus is a fan of "small and cute" (I sometimes wonder why she married me as I'm neither) -- and that's what you get with the Moon and Stars: a personal size serving of melon.

As for Bill Bird? Call me the "anti small and cute." I like my melons big. Not just big -- but back-buster huge monsters peaking out from underneath a canopy of watermelon plant leaves. There's nothing prettier -- in my humble opinion -- than a 40 lb. green-rind garden monster packed with a mouthwatering reddish-pink fruit. When it comes to watermelon -- only one rule applies: Bigger is Better.

Imagine my excitement this morning then -- as I was inspecting the "patch." Like everything else this year -- our melon growing efforts got off to a slow start this season thanks to some rather stinky spring weather. I've been checking the patch daily -- hoping to find some sort of fruity growth in there -- but had been rather disappointed with what I'd found. It was usually a whole lot of nothing.

I know the problem isn't pollination this year. The melon patch is literally humming with activity as honeybees and other native pollinators move in an out -- feasting upon one open flower or another. The patch is watered deeply twice a week and also receives a daily dose of fertilizer (both organic and non-organic***).

So what gives then? As it turns out -- I was lacking in one major category: PATIENCE BILL BIRD.

I know -- you're shocked.

Patience rewarded. As I walked toward the watermelon patch this morning -- something winked at me out of the corner of my eye. Drawn by early morning sunlight bouncing off zippered lime-and-dark green shoulders -- I discovered the most wonderful sight in the world: a watermelon. And not just any melon either. It was the most beautiful watermelon I've ever seen. It's a monster melon -- or it soon will be.

But the melon patch wasn't satisfied in revealing its deep, dark secrets. As I was looking at the most gorgeous of sights -- yet another and larger melon caught my eye two feet away. And then another -- and yet another. As I would soon discover -- my melon patch is literally filled with fast-growing watermelons of all shapes -- sizes and varieties.

"Aha!" I thought. "No wonder the cats are paying so much attention to this area." And it's true. I noticed our one true hunter-killer cat (named Precious) in front of the melon patch last night. I also remembered seeing her in about the same location the night before. I knew what she was doing.

What pest is attracted to melons? Well -- lots of them actually. Birds of all shapes and sizes love melons -- but the rind is far too hard for them to peck into -- so they generally leave the patch alone. But the field mice known as Voles love melon patches -- as I ruefully discovered last year. They're adept at digging into melons from the ground up -- so you never do begin to notice the damage until it's time to harvest.

Precious has been catching her share of Voles lately. I know this for a fact because she routinely brings them inside to show Venus -- who proceeds to emit an ear-piercing shriek of terror before Precious runs right back outside with her "snack." Her "guardianship" of the melon patch tells me that the Voles have discovered our crop this year as well.

Venus and I are growing several varieties of watermelon and other melons this season. Besides the Moon and Stars -- the Jubilee Melon has found a home in this year's garden -- as has another variety known as Kleckley Sweet. Both are the type of melons that Bill Bird loves -- which means they come in sizes of large, extra-large and Holy Cow.

Another new entry in the Bird Back 40 this season is a hybrid melon-cantaloupe cross called Honeycomb. The seeds for this variety were purchased from Pinetree Garden Seeds -- which offers this somewhat tasty and mouthwatering description:

"The first thing I notice with a honeydew melon is the fragrance and Honeycomb is a fine smelling specimen. It is quite large for a fairly early maturing variety with many going in excess of 6 pounds. Anyone growing Honeycomb mentions its high yield, around a half dozen fruit per hill. Flavor is great, enhanced by a super high sugar content."

And finally -- to top it all off -- the final entry in this year's melon patch is the old standard: Hale's Best Jumbo Cantaloupe. Like the nearby melon crops -- it is also fruiting with abundance.

Is that enough to get ye olde tastebuds working? Too much for you? In my humble opinion -- the line of "too much melon" represents an oxymoron. We're off to a late start this year -- no doubt -- but better late than never.

***EDITORS NOTE: Daily dose of fertilizers does not imply that Bill Bird is fertilizing his garden every single day of the week. The organic fertilizers of Maxicrop and Omega 2000 are applied once every two weeks -- per label directions.

The Lil' Punkin' That Could

Yes -- this is a blog posting about pumpkins. Yes -- I realize that Halloween has come and gone. No I am not insane. Although the wife might argue on that point a tad.

Speaking of my lovely bride -- there she is in all of her gorgeous beauty next to her brand spankin' new Zutano Avocado tree. The Zutano -- which we planted and securely staked over the weekend -- replaces the Bacon Avocado tree which I managed to slowly kill over the course of 18 months.

Why am I putting up a picture of my lovely wife next to a Zutano Avocado tree during a post about all things pumpkins? Did you not read that part about insanity in the first paragraph? Actually -- it's because Cindy Shea -- aka "The Vintage Vignette" -- requested one.

Blog Rule #1: Don't let The Vintage Vignette down.

OK -- let the silliness end. Time to get onto more serious things -- like planning our Thanksgiving dessert menu. If you're guessing that Pumpkin Pie might be on that menu -- then you've read the wife's mind. But not just ANY pie mind you -- but a pumpkin pie featuring this pumpkin from the backyard.

This was my first year for growing pumpkins. An old high school friend who lives in Southern California assured me that if I had to room to grow watermelon and cantaloupe vines -- I most certainly had room for pumpkins.

Whaddya know? Dan Breen was right on the money.

Actually -- to be brutally honest -- our pumpkin growing efforts were mostly a bust this summer. The first one actually ripened up just in time for Halloween: in early July. We left it on the vine for far too long -- but somehow it managed to survive the hot summer and almost daily attacks from the Vole City that populated my "test garden bed" in the Back 40.

I will admit -- the Voles got to a lot of my pumpkins AND watermelons AND cantaloupes this summer. But I got the final revenge -- as the Voles grew so fat that they became easy pickings for our Hunter-Killer cat named "Precious." She was more than happy to drag fattened, rat-sized creatures into the house -- still alive mind you -- so she could proudly proclaim: "VOLE! IT'S WHAT'S FOR DINNER!!!"

The wife was -- uh -- less than impressed.

But back to the subject in question. The Voles managed to leave just two pumpkins alone long enough to survive. And those pumpkins -- in turn -- were harvested -- seeded and carved for Halloween! But as we were combing through our most sincere of pumpkin patches -- we stumbled across this.... this.... thing.

It was a pumpkin, yes. But it was still green! Can you carve a green pumpkin? Are there laws against that? Since we already had two carved pumpkins for the kids at Halloween -- it was Venus that made the decision. She issued a stay of execution. A temporary stay I might add.

Her thinking -- which was right on the money -- was that this green pumpkin just might ripen in time for our Thanksgiving Dinner Spectacular -- starring every annoying member of each family possible -- plus a few misfits from our Club Raven hangout downtown.

Sure enough -- as the days stretched into November -- our green pumpkin turned a bright shade of orange on the bottom. It was a color that slowly spread to the top. It's a process that continues to this very moment. The pictures in this posting are about a week old and still show a considerable amount of green color. That's fading fast.

As much as I would like -- I cannot tell you which variety of this pumpkin is. I know it's not a Dills Atlantic Giant -- so we can rule that out. That leaves two other varieties of seed that Venus purchased earlier this summer from Lockhart Seeds in Stockton. This might be a member of the "Hallow Queen" Family -- or it could also belong to the "Howden" Clan.

Since the bees were busy as bees this summer cross-pollinating the pumpkin seeds that were planted tightly together -- this could also be a cross. I suspect -- from the pictures I've seen -- that this is probably a Howden. But who really knows? Who cares?

So -- how does one make a pumpkin pie from scratch using a gourd that Vole City desperately tried to dine on through the fall and summer months? I do have some ideas -- which are probably wrong of course. Venus loves to point that out.

But -- if you're in the mood for homemade pumpkin pie next week -- and you're in the neighborhood -- please remember to stop on by. Unless -- however -- you're a Vole. If that's the case -- you've already had your fill.

Monster Moon & Stars And the Vole Hole Mystery!!!

I'm pleased to report that MELON season is now kicking into high gear in our North Natomas backyard -- but somewhat displeased to also report that Bill & Venus aren't really benefitting all that much.

Now -- to be perfectly honest? We did enjoy this MONSTER Moon & Stars Watermelon this morning for breakfast. I don't know how this melon got into the 25 lb. range. It certainly isn't supposed to get this large. But it did -- it was -- and boy was it ever good.

The cantaloupe harvest -- however -- has a somewhat different story. More on that in a moment. I haven't finished bragging yet about the Moon & Stars.

Venus and I harvested our first whopper of a watermelon two weeks ago. This was also an heirloom variety called a Tom Watson. It promised melons in the 40 lb. range -- and this vine hasn't disappointed. However, we also picked the first melon a tad early. I knew it as soon as I'd split it open. While the center was indeed a nice ruby-red color, it's clear the melon would have benefitted from another week or two on the vine.

So we left them on the vine.

That wait paid off in droves on this Labor Day Monday. The vine connecting to the monster sized Moon & Stars melon had mysteriously died off. I wouldn't find out why until today. But, since the vine had died off weeks earlier, it was time to bring it in and cut it open.

Splitting this monster in two brought the biggest smile to my face -- and the photo will clearly show why. The melon was -- indeed -- at its peak ripeness. It wasn't under-ripe. It wasn't over-ripe. The flesh was sweet, crunchy and refreshing. It's just one of those "melon moments" from the garden. The melon that I had watched grow with anticipation all through the summer delivered a knockout punch of taste.

But the best part is -- there's a lot leftover. And the seeds from this "Monster Melon" will be saved for next season.

When the vine that produced this monster first started to die back two weeks ago -- I was more than concerned. Why that vine? What went wrong? Why didn't the other vines die off? Why just that one vine? Was it chemical? Was it critter? Those answers would come today in the form of a surprise.

We've been picking ripe cantaloupes for the past month, without giving it much thought. Some were on the small side -- but there were also a few "champion" cantaloupes that I've been watching grow with anticipation. The time to pick one of those melons came just this morning -- and boy was I disappointed.

When I felt the undersides of these cantaloupes -- my joy and anticipation vanished. What greeted me was a shock. They were soft. They had rotted through. I had waited too long -- or so I thought.

When I attempted to harvest one of these cantaloupes with the hopes of saving something -- that nice, firm, orange rind suddenly collapsed inward. The melon was GONE -- or as the photo to your left clearly shows -- half gone. What had gone wrong?

The answer lay underneath each cantaloupe in my raised bed. Do you know what I found? A critter hole! A family -- or several families -- of Voles (mice) had not only invaded the raised bed -- they managed to avoid the detection of the four hunter-killer cats that regularly patrol the backyard.

How?

The voles had avoided detection by digging a series of tunnels up from the main home to just underneath the cantaloupe target in question. From the underside -- they managed to easily pierce the cantaloupe and muskmellon rind -- and proceeded to literally clean out the inside of each melon.

From the top view? Everything looked fine and dandy. I saw ripening melons. But underneath? A different story completely. The moles had been hard at work. Telltale holes are everywhere underneath the melon patch -- and it was there where I found the remains of the Moon & Stars vine that produced the giant melon pictured above.

As it turns out -- the moles couldn't pierce the rind of watermelons like the Moon & Stars -- but that didn't matter. They ate away at the root system of the vine instead -- until it eventually died off. Mystery solved. It wasn't chemical. It was critter.

There's not much I can do about this now. The voles are safely ensconced inside of their new, raised bed home. But the protection will not last. Revenge will come in the form of fall when the vines are removed and the voles will be forced to leave the protection of the raised beds to forage for scarce food supplies.

At that point they will come under the watchful eyes and teeth of the four hunter-killer cats that patrol the backyard. Once the cats begin to figure out where the mole families are located -- well -- it's the beginning of the end. A few will survive. They always do.

Will we plant melons again? Do voles like cantaloupe? This is -- by far -- the most awesome year of watermelon and cantaloupe production that I have ever experienced. Never before have Venus or I grown melons this large or this tasty. And the season still isn't quite over. The voles can't split open the melons like they can with the cantaloupe. They can try -- but the rind is just too tough for them.

Moon & Stars is an heirloom variety melon that grows well in just about any set of conditions and will serve you well in your Northern California backyard. Seeds are available from just about any mail-order supplier -- and if you're lucky -- you just might be able to snag a pack from your nearest Home Depot, Lowes or any other big box store. You can also find them at various nurseries such as Capital Nursery and Peaceful Valley Farm and Garden Supply in Nevada City.

As for us? We're already set for next year. The monster melon pictured above produced a bumper crop of large seeds.