But What Would Hank Say?

Hank Williams Jr.

One thing's for sure

We're all just passin' through

No we're not gonna live forever

Not me and you

But Lord, I've had a good time

Yes Lord I've had a good good life

I've just got one thing to say

This is all that matters anyway

Good friends, good whiskey, and good lovin'

I want to thank you Lord For givin' me all of them To get me by

Take my money, take my rings

I'd trade it all for just three things

Good friends, my good whiskey, and good lovin'

I suppose there's a little bit of a redneck in all of us.

For me -- when it comes to hearing that particular Hank Williams Jr. song -- at just the particularly the right moment in time (say -- a Friday afternoon after work?) -- well -- the garden "wild side" comes out.

Suddenly - the garden possibilities are unlimited.

In this case -- after turning up the stereo to full blast mode -- I was in the mood for a little something special. And I knew I had just about every ingredient in the backyard garden -- with the exception of fine gin -- of course.

The Peachtini: You May Drool

And no -- I am not talking about the finest gin that you can find in a plastic bottle. No -- this special drink would require something not often found anywhere near the Bird Household Bar: fine liquor.

The special drink I am referring too is pictured in all its wonderful glory to the immediate left. My gardening friends, I give you, the PEACHTINI!

Fortunately, there is a BevMo (Disneyland for Drunks) in the North Natomas neighborhood. And -- after picking up that special jug of Bombay Sapphire, it was off to raid the backyard farm of some very special ingredients.

I would need peaches -- yes PEACHES! Not just any peaches mind you either -- but peaches from the June Pride peach tree. It's one of the few trees in the local area offering true tree-ripened peaches during this particular time of year -- and this little concoction required juicy, sweet, lip-smacking, tree-ripened peaches and lots of them.

June Pride Peach Tree: Bird Back 40

Fortunately -- the June Pride is the ONE peach tree in the Bird Back 40 that managed to bounce back and bounce back well from a terrible case of peach-leaf-curl this spring. The O'Henry got hit just as hard, perhaps even a tad harder. But it produced a small crop that will come ripe later this summer (if my fine feathered friends don't get to them first). The June Pride, however, managed to fruit a fairly nice crop.

Although this crop was primarily located on one side of the tree and took quite a bit of propping (peach trees are weird) -- the peaches were warm from Sacramento sunshine, slightly soft to the touch, and bubble-gum sweet good.

Important Ingredients Required

Next? Off to the basil crop to raid a few different types of basil that are growing quite well in the raised beds dotting the backyard. Sweet basil always seems to do well this year. And, surprise-surprise, if we didn't get a good showing out of Thai basil as well this season. I know it grows like a weed around here because you see it in every Southeast Asian restaurant worth its salt.

But I've had a hard time growing it -- until this year.

The garden would supply another important ingredient in the form of fresh Meyer Lemons, which I've had to camouflage carefully lest by meyer-lovin' brother find it. He's worse than the feathered birds raiding the Bird fruit tree offerings with abandon this summer. At least the birds leave something behind. When it comes to Meyer Lemons, Andrew Bird shows no such mercy.

PEACHTINI X2

Mixing a peachtini creation like this isn't easy because peach juices can be rather thick and hard to strain. But after a few fits, stops and starts, Bill and the wife that is Venus managed to produce the first ever PEACHTINI!

Was it good? What if I told you we immediately produced five more? Of course they were good! Tree ripened peaches with sweet basil and sweet meyer lemons are a taste sizzle sensation! Who needs the fine gin?

I didn't mean that, because we also used the fine gin.

Based upon the tomato crops now starting to come right -- Venus and I know that fresh martini season is just getting started. There is a place at the table for the always-famous and always-in-demand Heirloom Tomato Martini. What good is watermelon and cantaloupe if you can't pour it into a martini glass? Corn? Squash? Peppers? The possibilities are endless.

I know that Hank likes a fine belt of whiskey every once in awhile.

But I think even he would approve.

Stupice is as Stupice Does

Bird Tomato Garden-One of Three Beds

Greetings from the Frankensteinish North Natomas tomato farm that is the Bird Back 40 -- a place we lovingly refer to as "Disneyland for Drunks." Things are right fine in the hood as you can attest from the photo to your immediate right. Our heirloom plantings are now approaching a height of six feet and are green -- lush -- healthy and productive.

A quick check of the garden reveals the following tomato count: Campbell's 1327? LOADED. Eva Purple Ball? LOADED. Black Krim? LOADED! The notoriously cranky and sometimes unproductive Marianna's Peace? LOADED FOR BEAR!

Celebrity and Eva Purple Ball Production

Getting old yet? You know things are going well when you spot a bit of color behind a green tomato leaf -- and pulling that leaf aside reveals the wonder that is a ripening Azoychka. You know things are going REALLY WELL when you pull aside said leaf and are struck with the sight of five ripe Azoychka tomatoes.

Where in Hades did they come from and how come I didn't notice this before? Did someone put those there?

Safe to say -- the wife that is Venus and I are somewhat blessed with tomato production this year. We're off to a rather outstanding start. I've never experienced a year in the garden where there wasn't at least one loser among the bunch. Usually? There's more than one.

But not this year. Not yet anyway.

Ripening Stupice Tomatoes

The big heirloom tomato winner so far this year? No doubt in my mind. It's the heirloom offering known as Stupice. And despite my rather "stupice" play on words in the title of this blog posting -- Stupice isn't pronounced "Stoo-Piss."

This variety, one of four sent to the United States from Czechoslovakia by Milan Sodomka (source: Seed Savers), is actually pronounced "Stoo-Pee-Chay" from what I've been told. Still others have related the pronunciation of "Stu-Pick."

Pick your poison -- because this variety is anything but (poison).

Stupice is one of those rare potato-leaf tomato plants that does not produce beefsteak tomatoes. In my short experience with growing heirlooms? If you're growing out a potato leaf -- it usually means you're growing out any version of Brandywine (there are several), Marianna's Peace or numerous others that feature large and crazy looking tomatoes.

Stupice here, Stupice there, Stupice everywhere!

But not Stupice. This one is different. And that makes it special.

The first clue that I'd decided to grow something special is when every seed I planted not only germinated -- but was the first to germinate. It was the fastest growing tomato starter in the Bird bedroom-converted-tomato-nursery. It's one of several varieties that received a "haircut" before plant out. Every cutting from that plant would yield new plants that I eagerly gave away to family and friends at work.

Since I had not grown this variety before -- I did not know what to expect. I had heard from many tomato growers on the Yahoo Forum TomatoMania that Stupice was an absolute winner in many a backyard garden. But what does well back east in New England or somewhere in the Midwest doesn't necessarily transfer into great success on the Left Coast.

Crazy Stupice Production

However -- the Stupice is one of those plants that ignores all rules. It appears to do well in just about every region it's been planted -- and I can personally attest that list includes Zone 9A -- the Sacramento Territory. Although the raised bed that holds the Stupice also holds seven other tomato plants -- the Stupice has grown up and through nearly the entire bed. I'm discovering new branches that are anywhere from four to six feet away from the main stem -- held aloft by other plants in the bed (which are also doing well I might add).

My first indication that this plant was going to be a winner in the garden is when it unfurled a blossom set normally reserved for cherry tomatoes like SunGold or Sweet 100. When each blossom set resulted in a setting of four to seven young tomatoes? I knew I had something special. Stupice continues to proliferate throughout its garden setting -- putting out blossoms in every square corner of the 4X8 foot raised bed. It was also the first to ripen in abundance, beating early producers like Bloody Butcher and Early Girl.

Stupice tomatoes with cucumber and basil anyone?

There will come a time -- not all that far away I might add -- when a singular harvest of Stupice will result in a bowl of 30-40 ripe tomatoes -- with hundreds more yet to ripen. Consider Stupice to be your classic garden tomato -- in that it will produce enough tomatoes to fill every salad bowl with a bounty of production or will serve as your "snacking" tomato while you harvest others from the yard during the peak season of production.

As far as the taste is concerned -- rank Stupice with some of the best tasting heirloom tomatoes. It still can't hold a candle to the taste explosion and surprise that is a vine-ripened Cherokee Purple, Brandywine or Kelloggs' Breakfast -- but a bowl full of Stupice is a bowl full of summer heaven just the same. The one and only knock against Stupice? It's not a good processing tomato. It's about the size of a golf ball or a bit larger. That makes it a tad larger than a large cherry tomato, but it's still not large enough to be canned as a whole tomato.

But that shouldn't stop you from making a gallon or ten of fresh Stupice tomato sauce!

The New Me

Custom Blog Templates by Madeline

It's the old me, actually. Same bad writing. Same bad advice. Some things never do change.

By now, you may have noticed some changes to the blog that is Sacramento Vegetable Gardening. Yep, Bill and Venus Bird have gone mainstream. They plumb went out and hired a graphic designer to clean up the clutter and make things look neat n' tidy. What's next? Ads promoting Viagra?

I suppose a little explanation is in order. Or, in my case, I blame it all on "Maddy."

"Maddy" is actually a fine and inventive young lady by the name of Madeline Miller. I can't remember exactly how I ran across her -- she may have left a comment on the blog at one point -- I'm not sure. But I was instantly impressed with her blog and her blog designs. Each one was fresh and unique. For me? They jumped right off the page and screamed TALENT!!!

I know about this because I have so precious little of it.

At any rate -- I had been thinking about some design changes to the blog but was also a little hesitant. Let me explain. I'm old. I didn't grow up with computers. The words "Bill Bird" and "computer savvy" would represent a classic oxymoron if used in the same sentence. One minor and wrong keystroke had me pulling out what precious little hair I had left.

I also have very little clue when it comes to basic colors. The wife that is Venus will attest to this. The woman won't let me near a washing machine because that's usually when disaster strikes. No matter how hard I try to do well, left on my own, I usually wind up wearing something that's a rather Christmassy shade of green and red.

Hey, it works for December. But July?

Madeline Miller

At any rate, I picked the wrong time to bother Madeline Miller. Big surprise there. I've been doing that for most of my 48 years on God's Green Earth. As it turns out -- Madeline was dealing with some other issues more important than my blog when I reached out to her. Her family was about to expand with a new addition.

"See you in six months and that's a promise," she wrote.

Fast forward nearly eleven months -- and voilà!!! The new template is now in place. There are some other changes that I've been dragging my feet on, and at the same time, testing Madeline's patience to absolutely no end.

"How about a listing for recipes," she asked. "Uh, sure" was my reply -- usually followed by a "how do I do that?"

"You would need to add labels," she would patiently reply. Which was usually followed by an, "oh, OK. What?"

In the end, I annoyed a resident of Roseville to absolutely no end -- and got a nice blog design out of the deal. Not a bad exchange in my opinion.

The pictures used in the new template are all from the Bird Back 40 -- promise. We didn't buy those melons -- nor the tomatoes -- nor did I steal anything.

This time...

My hope is -- that as time goes by and people visit -- they will see the outdoor adventure that is Northern California. Short and sweet -- it doesn't matter what you put in the ground out this way. We're blessed. We're blessed with some of the greatest soil -- some of the greatest weather -- the most wonderful of growing conditions.

California living at its finest.

If you're impressed by Madeline's work -- you can reach out to her here.

Just don't make the mistake of telling her that you know me.

The Muse

Seignac Guillame: The Muse

It's no secret that bloggers sometimes get tired of blogging. The blog becomes a drag, man. When the wife starts referring to herself as a "Blog Widow," to a newspaper reporter no less? Houston, we have a problem!

Sometimes, we just plain run out of ideas. I mean, how many times can I write about the subject of garlic before it gets a little plain and a little dull? I've written so much about heirloom tomatoes that nothing comes as a surprise anymore. Suddenly, blogging becomes a chore.

That's when things go south. While most bloggers try to make it work with advertising, and some do a pretty good job at making a living, most of us do this for the joy of "putting pen to paper." This is nothing more than our journal -- a cyber journal at that. "Dear Diary, today that little girl with red hair threw a tomato at me..."

For some bloggers, even the good writers, the stress is just too much. They up and quit. They don't come back. The blogging landscape is littered with "dead blogs" that haven't been updated for years. One of the latest bloggers to put down the pen is Prudence Pennywise, a wonderful writer with a sharp wit.

Prudence Pennywise

Guess what? She got tired. I don't hear from Prudy anymore. I miss hearing from her. Prudy came up with some fantastic recipes and the blog earned her a spot on a local cooking show. It earned awards. It earned a faithful readership. It earned well-deserved attention. But not anymore.

Does this mean Bill Bird is going away? Hah! Fat chance Fredo! Dream on dude! This is still a lot of fun for me, although I don't have the time I once had to pay attention to it. I don't update it as often as I would like. Sometimes I lose focus. Sometimes I run out of ideas -- or I don't know how to frame a particular subject or post. Call it "Blogger Block." It's like writer's block. Yes, we get it too.

And then -- that "moment" comes. It always does. It's a seminal moment. Something happens -- somewhere -- and you are literally struck with inspiration. The block that frustrated you time and again is suddenly gone. You can't type fast enough.

Artichoke in Bloom

Sometimes that inspiration will come from the wife that is Venus. Sometimes? It comes from a different blog posting -- perhaps something that Farmer Fred Hoffman wrote about earlier in his blog. In this particular case -- my inspiration stemmed from one, simple, solitary line: BLOOMING ARTICHOKES: BEE CRACK.

It's the title of a post written by Sacramento garden blogger Carri Stokes and it brought a smile to my face as soon as I read it. Carri has a rather unique and wonderful way of communication in her blog. Not only is the posting true -- it's laugh out loud funny. And -- I may not have been the only blogger inspired by this posting. Some days later, Farmer Fred would write about "following a friend in the garden."

Hello Kitty Hive

The posting also made me think about what my colony has been feeding on this spring and summer. The bees inside that neon-pink Hello Kitty hive have been literally humming with activity. The numbers inside that hive have increased exponentially and the hive is now back to pre-swarm levels. I have once again been blessed with a strong queen. A strong queen means a strong hive.

But a strong hive also requires a strong food or pollen source. The Bird Back 40 will never contain enough blooming plants to fill that need -- but I've come to discover (happily I might add) that the colony has found numerous and abundant pollen sources in the yards and parks that dot North Natomas. In other words, they're doing just fine.

If there is one side benefit to budget cutbacks in the Sacramento City Parks and Recreation Program, it would have to be the state of numerous parks in North Natomas. The acres of grass set aside for family fun and gatherings are no longer bright green and tightly manicured as they once were. Although this might sound bad, it's actually been a benefit to all things bee.

Typical North Natomas Park: Covered in Clover

Without the constant maintenance and upkeep, clover has proliferated throughout park settings. Clover does not react well to many modern lawn fertilizers. In many cases, clover has been classified as a "nuisance weed," and the lawn fertilizers are specially formulated to knock it out. This is especially vexing to bee colonies. For if blooming artichokes are indeed "bee crack," then clover would represent the Surf n' Turf restaurant special. Bees can't get enough of it.

No matter how hard I try -- I haven't been able to track colony flights out of the Bird Back 40. I can tell which general direction they're heading. But once a bee picks up speed, it's very easy to lose sight of them. There is no doubt in my mind, however, that they found nearby parks inviting. A close check of those fields of clover revealed hundreds if not thousands of them, collecting as much pollen as possible before flying back home.

Honeybee Raiding Clover: North Natomas

Were they bees that belonged to the Hello Kitty Hive? That's somewhat impossible to tell. But the nice thing about pollen sources is this: they are plentiful and usually multiply in abundance. Plants that produce the kinds of pollen that bees can't resist are often the cheapest forms of landscaping found anywhere. And the new subdivisions that have sprouted out near Sacramento International Airport are planted with acres of pollen producers. There is no shortage of pollen out north.

Intentional? I think not. Cost is usually the determining factor in the growth of new subdivisions -- that and housing demand (which there hasn't been much of lately). But some how, some way, it works. Nature has found a way.

Bee Crack indeed.

Heaven is...

Tree Ripened Santa Rosa Plum Ready for Picking

Heaven is....Life with the wife that is Venus.

Heaven is...Happiness.

Heaven is...Santa Rosa Plum season.

I must admit -- I've been waiting for this. Not a year or two mind you -- but a lifetime. You don't remember the simple joys of life until they are gone forever -- and you wish you could have them back -- just for a moment or two.

But you can't. The simple joys of life are memories of a simpler time. And unless you've cracked the H.G. Wells code for The Time machine, you can't visit them again.

But I'm here to tell you boys and girls -- that you can come close. Close indeed. I've been there. I was there just tonight.

Santa Rosa Plum Tree-Bird Compound

My memories of Heaven are fresh plum season in mid-1970's Modesto -- and a gigantic, towering, fifty foot tall plum tree across the street from 309 Ribier Avenue. I don't know how it got there. It was just "there" by the time I noticed it. And, you could always count on said tree to deliver a wallop of a harvest.

Heaven was climbing ten-to-15 feet up in those fruit laden branches -- finding the most comfortable spot to lean on and enjoying plum after plum after plum until my fingernails and hands were stained a dark purple. I never did find out what kind of plums they were. All I can tell you is that they were delicious -- and they were bountiful.

That plum tree offered up many a weekend meal or after-school snack during fresh fruit season. The neighbors didn't mind much. In fact, they rather welcomed the sight of me high up in that tree. Because -- soon -- with the onset of hotter days -- the thousands of pieces of leftover fruit in that tree would grow soft.

Santa Rosa Plums-4th Year Crop

And then -- PLOP! Plop on the ground they went. Plop on the neighbor's freshly poured concrete driveway they went, irritating a one Olin Johnson. If the plums weren't plopping on Olin's freshly poured concrete driveway -- the birds that raided that plum tree with regularity -- were leaving something else behind.

Plums make you regular -- much to Olin's chagrin as I recall.

I've never forgotten feasting on those tree-ripened plums all those years ago. I've also never had the opportunity to run across another plum tree like that in the 35-plus years since those special days. I was somewhat distressed to see that the plum tree that so offended Olin Johnson and his freshly poured concrete driveway had been cut down during my last visit back to the old neighborhood.

Of course -- Olin was long gone by this time. There wasn't even a stump to serve as a reminder that a magical plum tree rested there. It was a plum tree that just didn't feed Bill Bird -- but entire neighborhood of young boys just like Bill Bird and -- well -- generations of other "birds."

4th Year Crop-Lush With Plums

It's safe to say that I have waited to repeat this moment since Venus and I first planted our Santa Rosa plum tree four years ago in our North Natomas compound. She would come to discover that it would be the first of many such trees -- but the Santa Rosa was the first.

Although my hope is that the Santa Rosa would be similar to the plums I snacked on decades ago on Ribier Avenue, I realized after the first small crop that it wasn't. The tree delivered another small crop during its second year -- and last year's harvest of 30-to-50 plums was enough to warrant this joyous blog posting.

Ripe for the Picking -- and Snacking!

But it still wasn't what I wanted. What I yearned for is a return to the days when I was a 12-year old boy with enough boundless energy to leap into plum trees with a single bound, hang upside down on a sturdy branch, and snack away until my stomach couldn't hold another bite of plum.

I suppose I'm here to tell you in an excited way that I reached that special nirvana tonight. No, I did not climb said tree. Bill Bird is a tad heavier now than he was 35 years ago -- just a tad. And that "boundless" energy that 12-year old boys have vanishes somewhere -- I'm not really sure as to where.

But that didn't stop me from reaching up to feed on a four year old Santa Rosa plum crop until I reached that special fruit "nirvana." It arrives when you've had just enough. You've eaten your fill. You cannot think of eating another. And yet -- when that hunger returns tomorrow or the next day? There is more than enough to meet said desire.

Ultimate Digging Machine Tenderizing Kitten

As I was feeding the Ultimate Digging Machine, Bandi the Mutt, her share of Santa Rosa plums, it struck me. I had indeed had my fill. I had eaten enough to the point where I was actually sharing plums with the dog we brought home from Oregon from last summer.

It was at that point that Nirvana struck. Had I fed plums to Bon-Bon the family mutt in 1970's Modesto? The faithful family dog that helped raise a family of four children, including the youngest? A boy who loved to climb the nearest fruit trees and eat his fill, while tossing scraps to the ground?

For an instant -- just an instant -- I found myself there. The moment I'd waited to repeat for decades came and went with a flash. The smile had I had on my face as I walked back inside was hard to describe, and also brought questions from the wife that is Venus.

And she's still not quite sure why I'm not interested in having dinner tonight.

Would You Like Fries With That?

Sack of Spuds Anyone?

It's a line I know well and repeated often during my youthful years in high school and later in college. And the answer was almost always, "yes, absolutely." Because if you're going to commit the foody sin of treating yourself to a real burger -- might as well complete the 25-to-Life sentence with a side of deep-fried french fries.

But the fries Bill Bird dished up all those years ago cannot compare to the sacks of spuds currently sitting in a cool and darkened corner of the Bird GarageMahal. The first big harvest of 2011 is now in -- and as you can tell by the photo -- we're in "Fat City."

Or -- if we convert these all to fries -- we soon will be.

After a less-than-stellar 2010 growing season -- the Backyard of Bird has bounced back with a spud harvest for the ages. A lot of factors play into a harvest like this -- which includes good seed potatoes and a green-thumbed wife named Venus willing and determined to pack every last square inch of a 4X8 raised bed with as many spuds as possible.

Colorado Rose Red monster. One of many

But there's also a lot of luck that plays into a harvest like this. You just don't grow a giant Colorado Rose Red baker like the one to your left without a little assistance from Mother Nature. And -- she delivered this year -- in spades. The late spring rains that distressed many gardeners by pelting tiny tomato plant starters with non-stop rain (and hail), turned out to be Manna from Heaven for potato growers.

The leafy potato plants that completely covered the bed soaked it all in. Inch after inch of steady rainfall hit all sections of the raised bed in an equal manner. And -- some weeks later when the plants began to die back in the graceful way that potato plants do -- a wonderful sight greeted me and the wife that is Venus.

There's GOLD in Them Thar Hills!

Tiny treasures poked from the top of every plant. Tiny treasures in every corner. Tiny treasures here. Tiny treasures there. Tiny treasures everywhere. I felt much like a gold miner in 1849 California. No need to dig into the ground son -- the gold is right here on top for the picking. Fattened by late spring rains, potatoes were literally bursting out of the ground.

I guess that late rain wasn't such a bad thing after all -- now was it?

There's a special and strange satisfaction that is so very hard to describe when you've literally lucked into a harvest like this. You forget about the hot sun beating down on your neck and back. The dirt between your fingernails isn't a bother. There's a treasure here to get out of the ground and you can't quite dig fast enough. Each shovel of dirt reveals a new prize and brings a new smile to the face of a gardener.

Fat Fingerlings

I suppose it means the work that you put into growing the crop -- the hours spent fertilizing and weeding the garden -- have now paid off with a monster harvest. While you always hope for the best when harvest arrives -- there's always a surprise here and there. There's nothing quite like finding a single Colorado Rose potato that's large enough to feed two people or fingerlings so fat with growth and production that you begin to wonder why you didn't plant more of them.

But it really doesn't hit you until you've turned over the last shovel full of dirt. You don't truly understand until you've poked through every last inch and bit of soil for spud surprises with that spade fork and get every last offering. Only then do you look at those burlap sacks fat with potatoes. And only then does it hit you.

What in Hades are we going to do with all these potatoes?

Pick a Potato

My guess is -- and it's a guess because we don't have a large scale -- that 5 lbs. of seed potatoes resulted in a harvest of 80-100 lbs. of fat potatoes. But -- without a scale -- it is just a guess. I can only tell you that those sacks were not easy to lift when the job was all said and done. Lugging them from the Bird Back 40 into the safety of the GarageMahal didn't do the back any favors.

But last night's french fries were some of the best I've ever had. Home grown potatoes are unlike anything you can find at your local supermarket, but you will find them in stores that cater to organic tastes and desires. You will almost certainly find these at Farmer's Markets scattered around the Sacramento area.

Sacks of Spuds. Harvest Completed

My thanks to the fine staff at Peaceful Valley Farm Supply for once again supplying a superior batch of seed potatoes. Special recognition to Capital Nursery as well for holding three sacks of fingerling potatoes in reserve for me when the wife that is Venus found an extra spot or two for additional seed potato plantings.

It's Sunday morning in Sacramento. Did someone say hash browns?

Dream a Little Dream

Corn Skewers, Duh!

"Dream on Bill Bird, Dream on!" Those would be the somewhat facetious words of the wife that is Venus as I pondered a recent purchase in our nearby Safeway Supermarket. As you can tell from the photo to your right? I did make that purchase.

"Are you thinking about using those corn cob holders on our corn crop this year darling," she questioned in a teasing sort of way. After all -- last year's complete and total corn crop failure was still in her mind (and mine as well I must say). There would be no fresh corn from the backyard last year -- just the nearby Farmer's Market.

It's a complete and utter failure that I blamed on 49ers Quarterback Alex Smith -- and no -- I still haven't changed my opinion on this. Sure the weather was crappy. But Alex was even crappier.

Enough said on the subject. I could fill blog volumes on this particular item. We won't go there. We will instead focus on happier things.

Like, corn for example.

2011 Fresh Corn Crop!

The so-called "test bed" is once again in use this year in the Bird Back 40 -- although it is a tad smaller. This is what happens when you start claiming corners and sides of said bed for additional fruit and citrus tree plantings. Still -- the remaining plot was amended dutifully earlier this spring with compost and fertilizers -- worked deep into that hard clay bedrock that is the Bird Back 40.

The Mantis Rototiller is indeed an amazing tool to have when tackling jobs (did someone say tackle?) such as this. This is our third year for using the test bed. And with each year -- I'm able to churn up and reclaim another inch or two of soil that had been hard pan.

As you can tell from the photo above -- this year's corn crop is indeed off to a rousing start. Despite the less-than-perfect spring weather, the first two rows are well on their way. Venus and farmer-in-training Marquitos Stromberg added a third row two weeks ago, and that has already popped out of the ground. I added the final three rows this past weekend.

That's six delicious rows of Golden Bantam Corn if you're counting -- ten to eleven plants per row. Do you think that's enough for your average backyard plot? Venus has also planted three to four rows of a baby corn variety in another bed on the other side of the Back 40. If you place these varieties too close to one another -- they will cross pollinate -- leading to a mutant and non-edible mess.

2009 Corn Crop

This is a lesson we learned during our first year in the test bed. This is why we call it the "test bed." It also has other names that I shall not share at this time because this is a family blog.

And yes -- if you're wondering -- Golden Bantam would be considered an "heirloom" variety. The original strain of Golden Bantam was introduced by W. Atlee Burpee in 1902. These stalks will grow to a height of five to six feet -- and produce golden yellow ears that are five-to-seven inches long.

The taste you ask? Well -- there's a reason why heirloom varieties like Cherokee Purple tomatoes and Golden Bantam corn stick around for this long. Sure -- larger and more productive strains of yellow corn have been hybridized since Burpee first offered the Golden Bantam.

But nothing beats that old world taste -- and that's what you get with each lip-smacking and crunchy ear of Golden Bantam corn. It's also a good canning variety plus the ears freeze well -- which is another reason for its usage.

Golden Bantam Corn at Three Weeks

Once again -- our test bed has been reserved for "a little bit of everything." There are some tomato plants that I've stuck in there -- but not nearly as many as in past years. The bed is also home to watermelon, cantaloupe and pumpkin crops. It's a large side yard of the Bird Back 40 -- so the vines have "room to run."

As for the corn cob holders -- it was about time that we invested in something new. Most of our original corn cob skewers were of the heirloom variety themselves. In other words, they came from mom's house. They were -- how do you say -- a tad worn.

My hope and dream is that the Birds bounce back with the kind of corn-y year that we experienced in 2009 -- our first year for the test bed. Corn crops grew large and lush and delivered some tasty offerings before the mutants moved in and took over.

I'd like to say that last year was just an aberration -- but then again -- Alex Smith is still the starting quarterback for your San Francisco 49ers.

That's enough to scare any backyard farmer.