A Harvest Like You

Flavor Finale Pluots-Bird Back 40

I've been waiting for this moment to be brutally honest. I've been waiting for a harvest like you. Because the planting and growing of fruit trees is an exercise in patience. You are not going to be rewarded with a bounty of fresh fruit in the first year nor the second. The third year might give you a little something. But it's that fourth year that fruit growers really look forward too.

Why that fourth year? Because as you've dutifully tended, watered and fertilized your young fruit and citrus trees, you have given them the time they need to establish large and strong root systems below the soil line. Strong roots = strong trees. Strong trees = a bounty of fresh fruit come harvest time.

Sliced Flavor Finale Pluots

But, alas, it doesn't always work this way. Sometimes the fourth year is a bust. The fifth year can be disappointing as well. Sometimes -- it's the third year. It all depends upon the fruit tree in question, where it's planted, how much sunshine it receives and how well you've cared for it. Did disease hit at some point? What about bugs? Bugs love fruit trees just as much as I do.

But there comes that moment in time, where the harvest you've worked and waited for finally arrives. You can't taste it yet. But you can see it forming before your eyes. In my case? The Flavor Finale Pluot tree that I stuck in the ground five years ago finally got around to delivering the type of harvest that I had always dreamed about, but never quite attained.

WHOA! Now that's a harvest to remember!

What is that perfect harvest? It's a harvest that is so large, that one bathes in pluots. There's enough pluots on the tree for fresh eating. There's enough pluots on that tree to make loads and loads of pluot jam and other pluot goodies. Gin drinks made with freshly squeezed pluot juice anyone? Finally -- there's still enough to give away to family, friends and neighbors -- all they can take -- and there's still enough fruit left on the tree to feed a marauding family of mockingbirds.

That, my friends, is a harvest to remember. And it took place this year in the Bird Back 40 in what will be described as an "average" fruit year by many. The weather wasn't quite right for cherries in Northern California this year, which is why the purchase of 1 lb. of cherries cost an arm and a leg in the local supermarket. Some peach varieties -- like the June Pride for example -- set very little fruit. And the three nectarine trees delivered a smattering of fresh nectarines. And don't get me started on the apples and pears -- especially when it comes to a rather nasty bug like fire blight.

Flavor Finale Pluot Tree-Bird Back 40

This wasn't what I had expected. But if you grow fruit for fun, you take the good with the bad. In some years the times are good. In others? Not so much. That's when it's time to drag out the old farmer's lament of "there's always next year."

But -- as you might be able to notice in the photo above left --there's a bit of wood propping up a branch laden with pluots. Know what that means? It was a rather right fine year for pluot production. More than right fine I should say. The dang tree was loaded to the point where some unpropped branches did actually snap under the weight of a terrifically large and luscious pluot crop.

Flavor Finale Pluot Jam-Bird Kitchens

I'll be completely honest with you. I've been privy to pluots ever since I first discovered them at a Sacramento area farmer's market more than a decade ago. I've always been a fan of home-grown plums and not-yet-dried prunes like the Clairac Mammoth de Ente (Improved French Prune). But the pluot offered a tasty feast that I quickly fell in love with. I couldn't buy enough to meet my personal demand. And I knew, fairly early on during the Bird Back 40 landscaping process, that a pluot tree would find its way home. I just wasn't sure which one it would be.

It would be November 19th, 2009 where I would conspire with another Sacramento area gardener and blogger (two of them actually) and place a large order through Bay Laurel Nursery. That order consisted of table grapes, thornless boysenberry and blackberry vines and one Flavor Finale Pluot tree. Why the Flavor Finale? Good question! You think I remember after five years of hitting hard gin like that?

Pluots...

Actually -- I did know that the Flavor Finale had recently won a Dave Wilson Nursery taste test challenge. And the fact that it ripened late -- in September no less -- was another good call. When one chooses to grow fruit trees -- you don't want everything ripening up in August. I would come to find out later that grafting different plum and pluot varieties onto the Flavor Finale was like falling off a log. If there is every such a thing known as the "Franken Fruit Tree" in the Bird Back 40, it's the Flavor Finale Pluot.

My thanks to the wonderful and wacky mind of Floyd Zaiger and his Zaiger Genetics program. Without his wonderful invention called the pluot, the first of which was introduced under the name of Flavor Supreme in 1988, my Flavor Finale harvest to remember would never had taken place.

Magical Piles!

Thorny Rose Bush Pile-THORNS!

It's right about this time -- during President's Day I guess -- when "piles" begin forming in the Bird Back 40. It starts with one pile. And pretty soon, there's two. Oh -- and where did that itty bitty third pile come from and how did it get so darn big so fast? And, before you know it, there's piles all over the Bird Back 40.

 

I call them "magical piles" because they appear to form overnight -- usually after a Saturday or Sunday. I suppose I could be the culprit behind these "piles." However, I usually like to place the blame on someone else. Why else would we keep a dog around? It's Bandi's fault! Of course!

 

Where Did That Big Pile Come From? DOG!!!

Mystery solved my friends.

 

These piles are forming now because Bill Bird spent a wee bit too much of his time during those Autumn Sundays to watch an NFL game or three. The 49ers are suddenly the rage of the NFL again. I blame these piles on the exciting and unorthodox play of a one Colin Kaepernick!

 

Cut back the rose bushes? Nah! Perish the thought! CK7 is on! Clean out the artichoke beds? Are you kidding? Did you see that play Eric Reid made?

 

Two More Piles? They're Multiplying!

The President's Day holiday is a gardener's holiday for those of us who practice this foolish craft on a part-time basis. There are beds to clean out (more piles!), onions and spring seeds to plant and the thought of heirloom tomatoes crosses the gardening-struck mind. That's right kids. Later today Bill and Venus Bird will start planting the 2014 Heirloom Tomato crop.

 

But, before we get too excited by this prospect, let us remember that warm afternoon weather brings on the opportunity to get busy in the backyard. Did we plant those pear trees last weekend? CHECK! Mission accomplished! Did you install drip irrigation sprinklers to water that new pear orchard? Uh, well....

 

Hey! We'd Like a Drink Please!

Not a problem, right? All we have to do is access the toolbox set aside for all things drip irrigation! If you're going to garden extensively like we do, wise use of water is an absolute necessity. This is the reason why we dedicate that big, orange plastic toolbox to all things drip irrigation. Of course, we haven't checked that box since Colin Kaep began chucking that pigskin last fall. And wouldn't you know it? It appears you ran out of every key piece of drip irrigation equipment you needed to accomplish the task at hand.

 

Since I can literally count on my local Home Depot to be out of stock of everything I need at any particular moment (it's uncanny how these things happen, people), it means a side trip to Emigh's ACE Hardware store. This is a little far from our North Natomas location. But if there's one thing I can count on, it's this. Emigh's doesn't run out of stuff. Ever. Bank on it. That little sprinkler head you needed is going to cost you a quarter more -- but at least it's in stock.

 

Yeah, it's Another Pile!

With drip irrigation parts acquired, it's time to accomplish that task at hand! What was that task? Oh yeah, irrigate the pear orchard. But wouldn't you know it? That pesky thing called "the sun" suddenly went dark. And while I just might be crazy enough to install irrigation in the dark, one simple thought crosses my mind.

 

What happens if I trip and fall into that thorny rose bush pile?

 

Yep -- I'll wait till tomorrow.

Sorry Kid -- Better Luck Next Time!

Return of the V for Venus Planter Bed

Welcome friends -- to another outdoor adventure in the Bird Back 40! I'm jazzed! It's raining outside! The Back 40 is one big pile of mud! Why am I so happy? Mud means water! And it's finally beginning to fall in sheets here in Northern California. The parched ground has finally soaked in enough moisture where small puddles are starting to form. And small puddles mean big lakes if we can get enough rain.

 

Of course, this puts the official kibosh on outdoor projects for the weekend -- which is fine by me. Because, let's face it people: Bill Bird needs the rest. For this post could also be entitled: "How to Build a Pear Orchard in 49 Easy Steps." I don't just plant fruit trees during bare root season. Oh no, people. Bill Bird puts on a production!

 

Bare Root Pear Trees

Of course, I've also learned through trial and MULTIPLE errors that these things have to be done right, otherwise that project that was supposedly "finished," suddenly ropes you back in. This particular project two weekends ago? Install a pear orchard for three bare root pear trees. Not just any pear trees people -- but the most delicious of selections from our fine friends at Dave Wilson Nursery. These people don't produce fruit trees. They produce heaven on a branch.

 

But before those pear selections could find a permanent home in the Bird Back 40 -- several steps had to be undertaken. Pear trees require good soil for one. This is something sadly lacking in the Bird Back 40. The dirt consists of clay that turns into a muddy mess in the winter and concrete in the summer. It's great for growing Roundup-resistant weeds that contain root systems made of iron, but little else. If I want a plant or tree to grow and thrive in the Bird Back 40, I've got to give it good soil.

 

The Great PVC Project

Ah -- but that's just part of the rub. Fruit trees demand more than just great soils. They also appreciate a drink of water every now and then. And the spot I had selected from them was a good country mile from the nearest, buried, PVC line. Know what that means people? It means digging in the dirt to find that buried PVC line, hacking into it, and then trenching a country mile with my handy dandy trenching shovel.

 

Oh -- my aching back!

 

Fortunately, I had a pretty good idea of where the nearest buried PVC line was. Another raised bed used for growing summer produce like heirloom tomatoes and melons wasn't all that far off. While I knew where the line came up inside the bed, I'd forgotten which course I took six years ago to extend that line into this particular bed.

 

Trenching a new PVC Irrigation Line

My hope was that I'd extended that line outside the bed, and then made a sharp right turn into the bed itself. It still meant that I would have to dig, but I knew I wouldn't be forced to dig very far -- maybe six inches. But if that line ran under the raised gardening bed itself? I would be forced to dig through a foot or more of composted soil, before I could reach the clay below.

 

That's one big hole to dig, people. And one mighty sore back to boot. Plus -- if accessing and hacking into a PVC line that is buried six inches deep is difficult, imagine the pain of trying to access and work with a line that's buried under two feet of composted soil and clay.

 

Digging Out a Raised Gardening Bed

As I began to dig and poke around outside that raised bed on that particular Saturday, my buoyant hopes ever so slowly started to deflate. Two or three test holes told me there was no buried PVC line outside the bed. Would I begin to realize my worst fears that the buried line was inside the planter bed? Do I make mistakes, people?

 

And so, after coming up snake eyes on that third test hole, I knew what had to be done. I at least knew where the PVC line was located inside that 8X8 raised bed. I would be forced to remove half of the soil from that bed so I could access that PVC line coming straight out of the ground, and then dig into the clay below.

 

PVC Lines at CRAZY Angles

Because the Bird Back 40 resembles a pie-shaped lot -- there are no straight lines to follow. The fencing separating my yard from others runs at crazy 90 degree angles. This makes the installation of PVC irrigation lines quite difficult. While 3/4 inch, Schedule 40 PVC lines are flexible, they also don't bend at 90 degree angles. This meant when I was installing the main lines all those years ago, many of them were extended at crazy angles instead of a straight line.

 

It was the only way to get the PVC line where it needed to go -- so crazy angles it was all those years ago. I would come to discover that the PVC line I'd extended into this particular raised bed was at a rather crazy angle alright. It ran directly underneath the bed and connected to a main irrigation line I had installed next to the fence. Thank God I wasn't required to trench all the way to that fence, as I would have been required to tunnel underneath a concrete walkway that I'd installed two years earlier.

 

Hello Down There!

There's a rather special kind of back pain that develops when you're reaching into and dealing with a PVC line that is buried two feet beneath the soil line. It sort of screams at you. It's even tougher to cut into and glue a PVC T into place. But if I wanted pears? It had to be done. And I wasn't about to return my prized pear trees.

 

It wasn't long before my hands were stained purple from PVC primer and sticking together from spilled PVC glue -- but that PVC T was finally glued into place. With the hard part finally accomplished? The rest was child's play. A little glue on this 90 degree connector -- a little more glue on this PVC line -- and lots more glue on my hands. I find it rather amazing that I didn't glue myself into that trench line -- but skin tears easily. And, hopefully it will grow back. Someday.

 

This Won't Hurt -- Promise!

Where does this special PVC line lead? That -- people -- comes in Part II of the compelling story of how to plant a pear orchard in 49 easy steps! But first -- the joys of back surgery!

 

I'm kidding peeps. The back is fine. Sorta.