The Watermelon Experiment -- SUCCESS!!!

Growing watermelons can be a real chore. A lot of it is trial and error, especially that "error" part. But the payoff is special indeed. This summer's sweet payoff comes in the form of the Sweet Diane watermelon. This is the largest melon I've ever grown, and this is small for Sweet Diane standards. But when the top of the striped green rind began to turn yellow, I knew it was time to bring it out of the garden.

This is not the first time that I've grown melons in the garden. However, it is the first time that I've started melons like this from seed. Most previous melon experiences involved starter plants purchased from nearby nurseries and those efforts yielded melons that were no bigger than the size of an average softball. While it was nice to get ripened fruit, I was hoping for something a tad larger.

And, past melon patches also brought rather unwelcome surprises. That includes that "weeding" incident in the Madera Ranchos, where that patch of weeds I pulled up from my backyard melon patch also brought forth a three foot long King Snake (I came to find out much later that snakes just LOVE watermelons patches). There's nothing quite like grabbing a big weed, only to discover that you've also grabbed a snake as well, and suddenly "you and the big guy" are face-to-face. King snakes might not be dangerous, but who am I kidding? Snakes are snakes....Coming face-to-face with one is no great joy, plus it's hard on the ticker....

This year, however, the situation was slightly different. I had the land. I had ways to control weeds. More importantly however, NO SNAKES. I might get buzzed by the occassional hornet or have a run in with a slightly agitated wolf spider, but that's nothing compared to sharing garden space with King or Garter snakes.

The first order of busines however, was choosing the melon I would grow. I didn't want the normal starter plant from your neighborhood nursery. I've been there. I've done that. I didn't want softball sized watermelons. I wanted WATERMELON SIZED watermelons. Melons that said "I can feed an army!" And I found that watermelon in the form of seeds from Pine Tree seeds. It was called the Sweet Diane, and it promised a "watermelon-sized" watermelon. Perfect. It's exactly what I wanted.

But, I had never grown watermelons from seed before. How does this work? When my packet of seeds arrived in February, I decided to get to an early start and planted those seeds with my tomato and cucumber seeds.

BIG MISTAKE.

Oh sure -- those seeds took off sure enough. They literally jumped out of those peat moss starter pods. And they continued to grow after transplanting. But it soon became apparent that watermelons do not do well indoors. Watermelons want sunshine -- not some cramped grow room. Watermelons want HEAT -- far more heat than a space heater can provide. Soon, each of my six starters wilted and then died.

I was disappointed, but not ready to give up. I again started seeds indoors and they again jumped out of starter cups, only to wilt and meet the same fate that the first set of starter plants met -- an early death. I couldn't, for the life of me, figure out what I was doing wrong.

Actually, it was very simple. Unlike tomatoes or peppers, watermelons are not good performers inside a room or in a greenhouse. The best way to plant melons? Wait until the weather warms up, drop some seeds in the ground and water. It was that simple. And with the six remaining seeds I had left, I did just that. Sure enough, the plants jumped out of the starter bed I had created for them and started growing just fine in that warm, spring sunshine.

Unfortunately, the new housing development I live in doesn't contain all the features that you find in more established neighborhoods. One of the disadvantages is there are no mature trees. There is no mature landscaping. And that means there is precious little room or space for things like a colony of bees, which is absolutely essential for pollination of watermelon vines. I did have hornets -- by the dozen -- but they just don't scratch after that pollen like normal honeybees do.

After waiting several weeks for the bees and the first fruits of my labor to appear I finally took devices into my own hands. If Mother Nature wasn't going to pollinate my Sweet Diane watermelon -- I was. And I did just that -- using a small paintbrush. It wasn't difficult, however it was time consuming. I scratched as many male flowers as I could with that brush, and then deposited what pollen I had into the open female flowers.

Not every pollination attempt was a success mind you. But, in some cases, it worked. Soon there was one melon. Then two. Then three more. And soon I had a garden full of Sweet Diane melons.

Although I had been told that Sweet Diane was an heirloom melon out of South Carolina, I appear to have been given the wrong information. Sweet Diane is a hybrid and a recent introduction to the melon market. No matter, because the taste is still outstanding. And these "melon-sized" watermelons provided fruit that was cotton-candy, out-of-this-world sweet.

Despite my success in the garden this year, I did make some mistakes. I planted corn in the same bed as my melon seeds. The wife also planted sunflowers. Those were big mistakes. The sunflowers grew quickly, cutting off sunshine to the melon patch and the corn wasn't much of a help either. I did get lots of melons out of the Sweet Diane, but I could have received that much more with smarter planting practices.

So, this is the first year for Sweet Diane, but it won't be the last when it comes to melons in the garden. There's a lot more to try and the lesson has been learned. Next year's melons will get a little more space, they won't have to share that space and they'll get a little more water as well.

And that's what gardening is all about, isn't it? Trial and error......

New Uses for Heirloom Tomatoes!!!

If your heirloom tomato garden is anything like mine, it's probably getting to the point where it's starting to produce far more than you need. This is when experiened growers unlike myself turn to various canning and sauce efforts in an attempt to save this wonderful harvest for winter uses such as stews, chili, soups, etc.

In short, there are a million things you can do with your heirloom tomato crop.

Check that! Make that one million and ONE. And this use has found a HOME, in the HOME of Venus and Bill Bird. I first spotted this recipe on the Yahoo Group TomatoMania (thanks Mary-Anne). And, it immediately caught my interest. It looked good. It sounded good. But I would have to wait six months before I could try it.

The photo that you see to your immediate left? That's the result of our heirloom tomato growing efforts and a wonderful concoction called Manny Hinojosa's Heirloom Tomato Martini. Yes, Virginia. Heirloom tomatoes aren't just for salads anymore. And this is one of the best uses I've found for heirloom tomatoes yet.

Keep in mind, I'm not a big, big fan of martinis. Should one appear before me, I'll drink it of course. But it's not the standard fare that Bill or Venus Bird will order at your average dive bar. Most of the time, we're content with less-lavish fare such as a bottle of Pabst Blue Ribbon. On those "extra-special" occassions, we might even dabble in a shot of fine whiskey. But, those occassions are rare.

I think the last time I had a martini was five, maybe six years ago. Based upon this recipe, I'm probably going to be mixing a few more. This is one lucious, incredible

drink. And, interestly enough, it changes colors depending on which heirloom tomato you use for each drink. For example, the drink to the right? It's the exact same yellow-looking concoction you saw above, with one little difference. The drink above was used with Lemon Boy heirloom tomatoes. The drink to your right contains about 10-12 crushed Sungold Sweet cherry tomatoes. And this was, by far, the best one of the bunch.

A bit of a warning here if you're going to try this recipe (which I highly encourage by the way). Even without the use of an heirloom tomato, this martini is slightly sour and very acidic. It's much like a Lemon Drop, due to the use of an entire lemon. If you use an heirloom tomato that is also high in acid content (we used a Green Zebra in one creation last night), you're going to get a martini that is extremely acidic. And, unless you have a cast-iron stomach, it can cause a bit of indigestion.

But not enough to put the kabosh on plans to make a third drink! The third experiment used an heirloom tomato that became an absolute favorite in our garden last year. As you can tell by the photo -- there is a bit of a red tinge to this drink. And, if you're thinking that we used red tomatoes, BINGO!! This drink is the result of two and a half small, crushed Costaluto Genovese tomatoes.

Second warning: This drink works best with vine-ripened tomatoes that you pull out of your own backyard garden, or you're fortunate enough to obtain from a neighbor's garden. Heirloom tomatoes purchased at conventional supermarkets are NOT acceptable substitutes. Heirloom tomatoes purchased at Farmer's Markets are a tad better. But there's nothing better than an heirloom tomato straight from the backyard.

Finally, although the recipe for this drink calls for "half of a small heirloom tomato," that is really hard to quantify. There is no standard size for "small heirloom tomatoes." That's the magic invovling heirlooms. They come in all shapes and sizes. Some are as big as three pounds! Some are pea sized. This recipe works best with sweeter heirloom tomatoes. And, for the drink that utilized Sungold Sweet Cherry tomatoes, I used about ten of them, and also popped in a few West Sac Crack cherry tomatoes just to see "what happened."

The taste was simply out of this world good. Once you try this drink, I promise you, you will be hooked for good.

And now -- without fail -- the recipe for Manny Hinojosa's Heirloom Tomato Martini!

2 ounces Bombay Sapphire gin

3/4 ounce tripl sec

1 whole lemon

1/2 small heirloom tomato

4 leaves fresh basil (if you can get this out of the garden like we did -- wonderful!)

1. Muddle tomato with fresh basil in a shaker. Muddle means "grind it up." And I would suggest that you tear the basil leaves into two or three pieces and really grind all the juice possible out of that tomato at the bottom of the glass.

2. Add ice, fresh lemon juice, gin and triple sec.

3. Shake 10 times (making sure to dislodge that crushed tomato from the bottom of the mixing glass), strain and pour into martini glass.

This is an easy drink to make once you get the hang of it. Venus just loves it. And, I must admit, that wonderful wife has great taste.

I love it too.

The Garden Payoff

Vegetable gardens are work. No doubt about it. I've got blisters on top of my blisters, a farmer's tan from hell and various aches and bruises thanks to my gardening activity. Although I do enjoy it very much, I'll be honest. Building planter boxes, installing irrigation and adding compost and soil IS work. And it's hard work at that.

But you don't go through all of that for nothing. There is a payoff. And that payoff is starting ring up now in the garden of Bill and Venus Bird. And it's not just our garden either. Nels Christensen, a founding member of the heirloom tomato group "Fruit of the Heirloom" (FOHL) sent me this picture just the other day. There it is -- payoff from his garden. That's a near 1.5 lb. Omar's Lebanese tomato, fresh from his tomato patch. Based upon the prices I've seen recently for heirloom tomatoes in local stores, something like this would sell for $10.

$10 for ONE tomato? Egads! And the thing is -- you couldn't even purchase something this nice in your local store. Tomatoes in stores are harvested well before they reach peak ripeness. To be honest, the absolute best tomatoes in the world come straight off the vine in your backyard.

Venus and I are starting to realize the fruits of our gardening labor.

This Marianna's Peace tomato came as a complete and utter shock. I missed it completely over the past few months when I was out inspecting plants. I only noticed it after it turned a light shade of pink. And I watched in anticipation as this large, potato-leaf, beefsteak variety turned to a darker shade of pink, praying all the while that some critter wouldn't start muching on it.

Fortunately, my prayers were answered. This was one of the best tomatoes to come out of the garden this year. Fortunately, there will be a lot more of them. The Marianna's Peace tomato plant is located in a bed that was recharged with two bags of steer manure compost this spring. That is the best move I've ever made. Every plant in this bed is six feet tall or higher, and every single one is spitting out tomatoes right and left.

But tomatoes are only half of the garden. Venus has always wanted sunflowers in the backyard. The problem is -- we never had the room. But -- with the new house? There's room and more. And there are scads of sunflowers in this bed. This is the Moulin Rouge sunflower. Believe it or not, these were planted from seed -- just like everything else in this bed. And they are six feet tall, loaded with flowers and best of all, attracting bees to the garden in record numbers. Bees are hard to find in North Natomas.....

Unfortunately, the sunflowers are planted in the same bed as the corn, and the poor corn is getting pushed aside somewhat. The Sweet Diane watermelon, however, has no problem with sunflowers around it. Sunflowers bring bees and bees mean pollination, which is essential to get melons like this. These Sweet Diane melons are still on the vine at our home. They are nowhere near ripe, and it does appear they will wind up in the 10-to-15 lb. range.

So, the payoff is now beginning. It's not August yet, and the garden is really hopping. If it's this good now, I wonder what August, September and October will bring.

The Great Tomato Conundrum

One thing that has always confounded me during tomato growing season, and confounded a number of heirloom tomato growers, is the simple question of WHY?

Such as: Why did this plant die? Why is plant tall, healthy and attractive, yet isn't producing a single tomato?

But the best "why" question of the bunch is "how did this happen" and "why aren't more people growing these?"

Those questions usually indicate a tomato "winner" in the garden, and I've been blessed this year to have many of them. One of the best was completely unexpected.

This is my second year for growing the Campbell's 1327. Blight and disease nearly took this plant from me last year before it finally recovered and gave me a late crop of large, tasty, red and round tomatoes. Based upon the production I saw out of this plant late last year, I decided to give it another shot this year.

I have not been disappointed. If anything, I am pleasantly surprised. This is one strange plant. It's doing things and growing in a way that I have never seen a tomato plant do before. But the most impressive thing about the Campbell's 1327 is the production. This plant -- which is the smaller plant to the left in this photo -- was planted at the same time as the plant to the right -- the Pruden's Purple. Yet -- as you can easily tell -- the Pruden's Purple is twice the size of the Campbell's 1327.

Yet, the Pruden's Purple has only produced two tomatoes at this point, while the smaller Campbell's 1327 has produced ten ripe tomatoes so far, and by the photos, appears to be very intent on producing a lot more. Why is this plant turning out so much fruit, but looks somewhat stunted? Why is the Pruden's Purple, or the Rainbow Beefsteak, planted right next to the Campbell's 1327 growing so much quicker?

The experts expound:

"Too much water!"

"Not enough water!"

"Too much fertilizer!"

"Not enough fertilizer!"

I have my own suspicions about why the plant growth on this Campbell's 1327 is so stunted. It's growing so many tomatoes, at once, it doesn't have the energy. I'm not sure what I'm doing right with this particular plant, but I sure wish I could bottle it and use it on some of the non-productive plants. Every single blossom on the Campbell's 1327 seems to turn into a tomato. I've never seen production quite like this before. And I've certainly never seen this type of growth pattern before.

Campbell's 1327 got its name from the Campbell's Soups that we were all raised on at one time or another. If you've ever had a bowl of Vegetable Beef, Vegetable, or Campbell's Tomato Soup, you've tasted the Campbell's 1327 in action. This was, at one time, the primary processing tomato used in all Campbell's Soup products.

But time has a way of changing practices and habits. At some point in time, someone made the decision to abandon this open-pollinated wonder. The advent of genetic engineering produced tomato plants that could grow in any type or soil or climate. Or, perhaps spoilage was a major concern. I don't really know why Campbell's abandoned the 1327 -- but at some point -- they did.

Thank goodness that someone decided to save seeds of this wonderful variety. If they hadn't, this variety would have been lost to future generations.

Campbell's 1327 produces large, red and round tomatoes in the 1 lb. range. Some are bigger. Some are smaller. It's an excellent slicing tomato for burgers or sandwiches. A single slice will cover the big burger buns. It's good in salads. It's fantastic in sauce. It's sweet, juicy and has a hint of acid.

And it will always have a home in the garden of Bill & Venus Bird.

Lightening in a Bottle

I suppose you could also call this post "Saving the Garden's Goodness," but anything with a bolt from the blue is a little more catchy -- don't you think?

Venus and I have now officially taken the next step in our quest to be the best heirloom gardeners we can be. Yes, I'm pleased to announce that we are now, officially, at NERD status. It's taken some time and a lot of work. But we finally reached that lofty status last night.

One of the worst things about gardening is this: No matter how hard you work and how hard you plan, gardening season does come to a close. Tomato plants spit out their last tomato of the season and slowly die. Frost and cold weather sets in. No more treats from the garden. Oh sure, you can plant a fall garden. And don't get me wrong, because crisp greens and other fall garden produce is nice (I guess). But there's nothing quite like vine ripened tomatoes, cucumbers, watermelons, you name it. Summer gardens are the bomb.

But, sadly, they do end.

So, in an effort to save as much as our summer goodness as possible, Venus and I officially turned to canning last night. And this is the result. Eleven delicious quarts of what I hope will eventually be the best garlicy-Dill Pickles known to man. We're not entirely sure what we're going to get yet, because this is the first time we've done this AND -- it's going to be at least eight weeks or longer before I can officially crack open one of these jars and see what we've done here.

I've been searching for pickle recipes for a long time. A co-worker gave me a sweet pickle recipe not all that long ago, but to be honest, Bill Bird isn't wild about sweet pickles. But, Bill Bird absolutely LOVES salty dill pickles with garlic and other spices thrown in to give it a little kick.

And that's why I just love the internet. Google the term "Dill Pickles" and watch what pops up. I found this recipe on www.allrecipes.com. It's old school (which is good), and the reviews told me that this dill pickle recipe was off the hook. I had told Venus last winter that I wanted to try this, and she talked me into it last night. The cucumber patch in the backyard is really starting to produce now, and we got more than enough to do the job. The recipe made enough for eight quarts of pickles. However, we wound up making eleven because -- well -- we had a bunch of cucumbers.

And this is how it starts out pretty much. After harvesting and washing our haul, we proceeded to soak these cucumbers in a batch of ice water. They needed to soak anywhere from two to eight hours --and we hit the midpoint -- about four hours. You can't really tell what's underneath those ice cubes, but trust me when I tell you that we harvested two gigantic Armenian cukes, about four or five Burpee Hybrid cukes and probably five or six Marketmore 76 cucmbers (a true pickling cucumber).

Based upon some previous advice, we saved the Armenian cucumbers for pickle slices, and used the Marketmore's and Burpee Hybrids for pickle spears and, in some cases, whole pickles.

We did alter the recipe somewhat. It called for 16 cloves of garlic -- cut in half. As you can tell by the photo to the left -- that's a lot more than 16 cloves. It was more like fifty. And rather than cut them in half -- I used the food processor to liquify those cloves into a fine paste. Liquifying garlic brings out the real taste and the real burn in garlic. Each jar got a little more than two teaspoons of garlic, so I imagine the "garlicy" part of these pickles should be pretty darn good.

Although this was a first for Venus and I, the project came off pretty well. After adding the spices, pickles and brine, we added the lids and tightened everything down. Although this recipe did reccommend boiling the filled jars in a bath for 15 minutes -- many reviewers who tried this recipe warned us: don't do it. Boiling the jars for 15 minutes may remove all bacteria -- but it also means a batch of soft pickles. We didn't want that. So, rather than boil the entire jar, we took the advice of another reviewer and turned the jars upside down in a frying pan with boiling water and boiled the already tightened caps for five minutes.

So, time will tell. We'll know just how good (or how bad) these things are by Labor Day. I don't think I'll be strong enough to wait the required eight weeks (I was trying to open one after eight hours before the wife clanged me on the head with a frying pan). But I can tell you this much. This is not the end of this project. Indeed, this is just the beginning. We'll do another batch of pickles before the summer season ends -- maybe two or three. And we'll do more than just pickles. There's my famous roasted garlic and heirloom tomato salsa to be bottled and saved, and Venus is growing green beans by the dozen and baby corn.

So, we're going to save a tad of summer in our pantry this year. When it's cold, wet and rainy outside, we'll crack open a jar of salsa and enjoy the Sunday afternoon football games.

And dream of next summer's garden -- of course.

July Garden Update -- Tomatoes

How does your garden grow?

Well, quite frankly, it's OFF THE HOOK! And thank you very much for asking.

It's early July in Northern California. The heat that vegetables love has finally arrived, along with abundant sunshine, long days and short nights. Sacramento is absolutely famous for its gardening conditions because you get the heat that tomato plants love, plus the cool conditions of the evening Delta Breeze. These conditions are unique to the Sacramento Valley, and it's one major reason why Campbell's Soups produces most of what they need for their canned products right here in Sacramento and Yolo Counties.

Given the right conditions, the right heat, the right amount of water and fertlizer, your tomato plants will be producing like this Celebrity plant located to your immediate left. The Celebrity, a fairly recent introduction to the hybrid world, can be enormously productive. Looks like this will be a good year for the Celebrity, as it started to fruit early and has been fruiting often. It's produced about four or five early season tomatoes, but better yet, will be producing a lot more as the summer wears on.

My 24 tomato plants are doing quite well for this time in the growing season. Some are bigger than others. Some are more productive than others. But that is to be expected. The plants that are located to the immediate right are, by far, the most successful. To the left, you'll notice a Bloody Butcher that is six feet tall and still growing. The plant to the right of that is a Costaluto Genovese. It has produced exactly one ripe tomato, but many more are growing. This was one of the most successful plants in my garden last year, and it appears to be well on its way to providing similar production this year. To the right of the Genovese, a Bill Bird heirloom favorite, the Green Zebra. It too, is loaded with early production.

While I did deal with some early blight problems during May and early June, it appears control efforts are paying off. But, while many of the heirloom plants are growing rapidly, many are also not producing much in the way of fruit. This is quite normal for heirloom plants. Most are generally late producers. This is especially true of the potato-leaf (PL) plants such as Marianna's Peace (MP), Pruden's Purple (PP) and Brandywine. Only the MP is actually producing tomatoes at this point, but it's a good two feet taller than the other two PL varieties. So, I'm hopeful that with some time and a little more growth, I'll see production from the PP and Brandywine.

One of the strangest plants in the garden this year is the Campbell's 1327. True to its name, this is a tomato variety that Campbell's Soups once used for its many varieties of canned soups. This variety was largely abandoned with the advent of genetic propogation efforts and corporate agriculture, but with most heirloom varieties, someone had the gumption to save seeds. And this old Campbell's Soups standby continues to produce in backyard gardens across America.

As I mentioned earlier, the growing habits of this plant are somewhat strange. You can clearly see the early production off this plant in the photo to the right. The Campbell's 1327 is located to the far right. I nearly lost this plant as a seedling, but it later recovered and grew quickly at plantout in late April. At one point however, I noticed the very top of this plant that produced new shoots and leaves develop a cluster of flowers. That cluster then bent to the left. And there was no more upward growth. The plant then fruited, many of the leaves turned upside down, and it just didn't look very happy. It didn't grow an inch for at least a week or two.

But, at some point, new, upward shoots did develop and this plant is now growing again. It has reached a height of about three and a half feet, and continues to produce new tomatoes. Several are starting to turn ripe and it's clear this plant will give me solid production throughout the summer season. The Campbell's 1327 produces red, round tomatoes in the 1 lb. range. It's the perfect slicer tomato for burgers or sandwiches, but also does well in salads or alone as a snack.

But, the biggest winner in the garden so far is the plant located to the left. This is the Bloody Butcher. There are two such plants in the garden. Both are six feet tall and are absolutely loaded with more tomatoes than I can count. The Bloody Butcher isn't an exceptionally large tomato. But what it lacks in size is made up in terms of production and zesty, acidic, taste. The Bloody Butcher produces fruit in clusters of four to five, with cluster sets located all over the plant.

So, the report for July is pretty darn good. With the exception of the Andrew Rahart Jumbo Red and Marianna's Peace, the large beefsteaks are not producing much fruit yet. But, I suppose that will come with time. By August, I should have a much better handle at what the garden will produce for the final two to three months of the growing season.

Planter Boxes on a Budget

I suppose you could also call this the "budget box." These are unlike the main planter beds in my garden. Those 4X8 foot beds used two-inch thick redwood boards, and when you added in the cost of the lumber, support planks, screws, and stain, the cost comes out to about $150 a box. Those boxes are a big investment in both time and money, as they take several days to construct.

But, the box you see to your immediate left is both cheap and easy. I built two of these boxes over the weekend, and will probably wind up building another eight or nine for open spots against the fenceline.

And I have a lot of fenceline.

If you every played with Lincoln Logs as a child, building something like this will be a breeze. These logs are very similar to those plastic Lincoln Log parts we played with as kids. The tops and bottoms of these logs are shaved flat. The sides are round, but the flat bottom and top allows for easy stacking.

These logs are eight feet in length, and they are already pre-stained for your convenience. But, the most important part of the equation is this: these logs are CHEAP. You can often find them "on sale" for a $1.97 each. And, if you happen to miss the sale, don't get too bummed. The regular or "normal" price for one of these logs is $2.97, which is still a bargain. The box pictured above contains six logs.

And this is what the logs usually look like when I get them home. It's just a pile of lumber waiting for me to put it together. These logs are sold in the "garden" or "landscaping" area of Home Depot. I'm guessing that Lowe's also sells something similar, but I can't confirm that. There is no Lowe's in my neighborhood unfortunately, so I normally do most of my shopping at Home Depot.

You'll need to do a bit of searching through the lumber pile to get the best logs. These things aren't perfect. Some are bent, others are cracked and still others are shaved at odd angles. But hey, what do you expect for less than three bucks? Perfection? If that's what you want -- move down the aisle to the $45 redwood landscape boards. There -- you'll find perfection -- and a big hit to the wallet.

Once I've found the six or 12 of the most perfectly straight, uncracked, logs that I can find, I haul them into the lumber section of Home Depot. There, they will cut them for you (yes they will!), and I cut two feet off of each eight foot log. This will result in a box that is six feet long and two feet wide. After each log is cut and placed back on my cart, I then move over to hardware and buy corner brackets like you see to the right.

Each "section" of this box (there are three) will require four corner brackets. So, you will need 12 corner brackets for all three sections, and you should also purchase four metal straps to hold each section together, one for each side. I also purchase two, one-foot sections of reebar to hold the boxes into place (but that's just overkill on my part, you don't really need them).

Once I get the logs home I use the brackets to put them together, using 1 5/8th's gold screws (four per bracket). This is what a finished section should look like. Once I'm finished, I stand in the middle of this section, pick it up and carry it to the final spot where I'm going to put this box. The bottom section is very important. You must take steps to ensure that bottom section is level. Because, if it's not, that box is going to come out crooked, which doesn't help when it comes to irrigation. I also tee off the main drip line located against the fence at this point and run a drip line underneath the bottom section and into the box.


The next steps are pretty simple. I simply build another section, just like I built the first one, and stack it on top of the first section. Then I repeat the process with the third and final section -- build and stack. Since the tops and bottoms of these logs are shaved flat, stacking is a breeze. I make sure to line them up correctly -- sometimes they require a little nudge or kick to line them up, but it's fairly simple stuff. Once all three sections are stacked, I screw metal straps inside each box to bind all three sections of the box together. The front and back both get straps and the sides get them as well. Two screws for each section -- which means each strap will hold six screws. That binds them together pretty well.

Once I have the straps installed, I proceed to install drip irrigation using 1/2 drip line, 1/2 inch metal straps (originally used for electrical conduit) and one inch screws to hold the straps in place. This elevates the drip line to the top section of this box, but leaves it far enough below the surface that it's covered with dirt once the box is finished. Each box also contains its own shutoff valve, which is also buried about an inch below the surface. This allows me to turn off the water when the box isn't in use.

Each box gives you nearly a foot or more of depth for planting purposes, and this is what the finished project looks like. You can increase the depth by adding additional levels, but I don't think they're needed. A foot of raised bed gives plants a lot of room to grow and spread out. The cucumbers we planted earlier this spring certainly seem to enjoy their new home.

How to Get Kids to Eat Tomatoes (Cucumbers too!)

It's not easy convincing kids to eat something that you've just picked fresh from the vine in the backyard, especially in today's fast food world. If it didn't come out of a wrapper of some sort, or from a pot in the kitchen, most young boys are going to stick their noses up and say "no thanks," or give you nothing other than a shake of the head.

I know from experience. I was one of those boys. And I frustrated my mother to no end.

After all -- I was an excellent gardener. Even at a young age, I knew my way around with a rototiller, understood the use of compost, and could turn a patch of weeds into a tempting garden space. I could grow champion tomatoes, cucumbers, carrots and radishes.

But eating that haul was an entirely different matter. I didn't eat what came out of the garden. I grew it for my mother and family, but I refused to touch any of it. And my mother tried just about everything under the sun -- even cash bribes -- to get me to sample just one slice of a vine-ripened tomato. Nope. I would have none of it.

I was even that snot-nosed kid who took slices of tomatoes out of a hamburger before consuming it. I was that bad.

So, where did it all change? At what point did Bill Bird suddenly drop his guard and agree to eat what he had grown in the backyard. I don't remember what year it was exactly, but I was probably a young teenager -- maybe 12 or 13 years old. I might have even been tad younger. And my mother hit upon a revolutionary recipe that I continue to use to this day.

I guarantee you -- if you're looking for a recipe that most kids cannot resist when it comes to home grown produce from the yard -- look no further. It's right here.

In today's day and age, you can find just about every salad dressing already pre-mixed and ready to serve on the shelf of your local supermarket. Want Italian? Blue Cheese? Ranch? Fat free Italian? Not a problem.

In the 1970's, however, that WAS a problem. The pre-mixed dressings were not widely available and cost a pretty penny. A penny that the Bird family didn't have, and couldn't spare, especially since Mom could whip up a zesty dressing with oil and red wine vinegar fairly quickly. And that was the key to this simple little invention that finally cracked my anti-tomato eating barrier for good.

The harvest had been pretty good to us that weekend. We had several ripe tomatoes and cucumbers fresh on the vine, and mother was convinced that she had to get me to eat them this time. So, she set up her cutting board, sliced those tomatoes and cucumbers, and arranged them neatly on a plate like you see here. You see, it wasn't just the food that was important. My mother had come to discover that *presentation* of the food in question was just as important when it came to my tastes.

Not only that, my mother had something else special planned. She had mixed together a standard Italian dressing of oil and vinegar and put it over the top of these tomatoes. And then, she added something a little special. She gave the plate of tomatoes and cucumbers a dusting of salt and pepper, and then finished the product off with a coating of oregano from the spice rack.

I'm not sure what it was, but something appealed to me very much in that special plate of garden goodies that mother had prepared for me. And, before I knew it, that entire plate was gone. Consumed in the space of five minutes -- I finally admitted this was one of the best things I had ever tasted.

My mother nearly dropped to the floor from Mycardial Infarction when I not only brought the empty plate into the kitchen, but then had the audacity to ask for more. And she did prepare that special dish, once again using the same ingredients she had used the first time. And, sure enough, in quick measure, that plate was gone as well. Who needed burgers I reasoned? I had vine-ripened tomatoes and cucumbers.

I've never forgotten this incident. From that point on, not only did I start eating tomatoes, I couldn't get enough of them. The same applied to cucumbers. And, I quickly discovered that you could do the same thing with bell peppers, another garden staple. Bush beans and pea pods were suddenly delicious, and more importantly, in demand.

I still can't get enough of this recipe. I've

been making variations of it for years, but only last year did I discover that I was missing an important ingredient -- the dried oregano flakes. It gives raw vegetables a real kick.

So, if you're looking for a hook -- an angle -- a recipe -- anything that will convince kids to eat a plate of tomatoes, remember the following:

1. Presentation

2. Oil and Vinegar

3. Salt and pepper

4. Dried oregano flakes

Now, I'm not telling you this is the magic ingredient that will suddenly convince your fast-food addicted children to suddenly sit up and fly right. They might even reject it the first time. Who knows? I may have rejected it the first time around myself as well. But, keep trying. Be patient. In time, that little boy and girl will notice that everyone at the table is reaching for that plate of home-grown garden stuff first. They'll get the message. I certainly did.

The First RIPE Tomato of the 2008 Season!!!

I'm sure there will be many more moments like this to come this summer, as I have 24 tomato plants that are positively loaded for bear this year, but the first ripe tomato of the season? It's always a special event.

It's June 20th, and I'm getting my first ripe tomato. A real tomato. Not a cherry tomato, but a real, ripe tomato. I've been getting ripe cherry tomatoes for about two weeks now. Those don't count. But the ripening tomato to your right? That counts!

The first real ripe tomato of 2008 comes courtesy of the Bloody Butcher plant. Grown from seed by Farmer Fred Hoffman, and planted in our garden during the last week of April, this is one of two plants in one of our 4X8 gardening beds. They are planted side-by-side, and represent two of the biggest plants in this bed by far. They are probably six feet in height now, and promise to grow much larger as the season gets into full swing.

I always feel pretty good about getting ripe tomatoes before July hits. It's normally a pretty good sign that good things are about to happen in the ol' tomato garden. Ripe tomatoes in June mean buckets of ripened tomatoes in July, and dump trucks of ripe tomatoes in August and September. It just feels good, ya know?

Both Bloody Butchers are planted in a bed that was recharged with two bags of Steer Manure Compost this spring, and this may be a key to my success in this one bed. Every plant in this bed, with the exception of one of the Marianna's Peace, is producing green fruit at a quick pace. MP hasn't produced just yet, but I have a feeling it's about too.

This is my first year for growing the Bloody Butcher. Farmer Fred called it an "impulse purchase" when he bought a packet of seeds last February. The name intrigued him. He just had to have it in the garden. And, according to my research, the Bloody Butcher is a fairly recent introduction to the tomato world. It's been around for about ten or eleven years. That's a short lifespan for a tomato variety, but its popularity is growing.

No need to wonder why. Just look at the production this plant is putting out now. It will produce the first ripened tomato in my garden. And, judging from these pictures, this is just the first of SEVERAL HUNDRED that I will get from these two plants alone.

Here's hoping the taste is as good as the production.

There's really nothing like the first vine-ripened tomato of the year.

A Garden SURPRISE!

The really wonderful thing about gardening is, the surprise that invariably comes about when you're growing a great many things. One of those surprises came tonight. It was completely unexpected, and I'm still scratching my head. This should not have happened. It's just too darn hot to happen. But happen it did, and I have the proof in the way of photos. The wife -- Venus -- has the proof in the form of DINNER!

As I have explained before in this blog, we do grow artichokes. And, given the right space, water and fertlizer, artichokes will do well here in Sacramento. But, unlike coastal areas, you get only ONE season. Coastal areas get two -- one in the spring and one in the fall. In Sacramento, you get the spring. The summers are just too brutal on the artichoke plants. This is how they normally look in late spring -- early summer -- wilted, dying back, not happy. The last thing you would expect, is a new crop of artichokes.

Not so fast.

Tonight -- I spotted that new crop. And I've never seen this before. Most artichokes produce right about the same time, no matter what the variety is. You get about a month of spring-time production, and that's it. Then the plants die back completely, before sending out new, tender shoots in the fall.

But tonight -- I noticed four very new, ready to pick artichokes in the bed of dying, wilting plants. When I moved the dying plants aside, what did I find? A new plant that had sprung up in my 4X8 gardening bed. A new plant? Now? In this heat? Unheard of at the old home.

But, perhaps it's because that bed was smaller? Not enough room? I'm just not sure.

What I can tell you is this much: This is the result. Four, ready-to-pick, artichokes. They don't look old, withered and tough, which is normally what most artichokes grown in Sacramento look like this time of year. Nope. This looks like normal, fresh, early spring growth.


Except, it's not early spring. It's June 17th. Temperatures have been in the upper nineties for awhile now. According to my previous gardening experience, this shouldn't be happening now.

But it is.

And tonight, the wife has a surprise for dinner (I'm eating leftover pizza!)