Come closer, dear students, and the Damsel will tell you.

The Damsel lets her chickens run loose in her large fenced yard, eating mosquitoes and possibly earwigs. For this hope alone, it’s worth the risk they pose to the garden plants. They do like to peck and tear at the tender leaves. But although most of the plants have managed to grow faster than the chickens can peck them down, there is one sad row in the Damsel’s garden.

Behold the chicken devastation.

This was once a happy little row of beets. The Damsel had hoped for a few meals of beet greens as the plants were thinned, and then the rest would be ultimately pickled as shown in this post: Pickled Beets. But the greens have been pretty thoroughly whittled…maybe they’ll recover a bit, but hopes of beet greens are sinking low. Who knows if there is enough left of the tops to support growth of the beetroots?

Yes, the plants could have been covered with netting and thus saved from being pecked to within an inch of their little lives. But with the other, earlier-planted veggies, the chickens pecked at them rather half-heartedly, lulling us to believe they weren’t going to do any serious damage. Then the beets were planted. Before we knew it, the Beetgreen Devouring Festival had begun and it was all everlastingly too late.

Thank goodness the chickens didn’t kill the tomato plants. If that had happened, the Damsel just isn’t sure what measures she’d be required to take. She hopes she will never be asked to choose between tomatoes and eggs. Some choices are just too awful to contemplate.

That’s right.

Near the Cottage by the Mountains, there is a friendly horse riding arena/stables, and the “output” is prodigious. Thanks to the law of supply and demand, a person can get an entire pickup truckload of high-quality compost from this place for only $5. ($15 to have it loaded. Worth it.)

Don’t gross out. This is nicely aged compost, so it’s nothing like sticking your hand in horse poo. It’s light, airy, and odorless, and what it does to our heavy garden soil is magic.

We get a load every year and spread this stuff throughout our garden with a liberal hand. It both feeds and lightens our soil so plants can grow like…weeds.

It’s plain that this type of fertilizer is MUCH cheaper than the stuff you buy in the bag at the home center. Plus, it’s **cough** natural. No yucky chemicals here. The Damsel suspects there may be something like this in your neck of the woods, too. It’s worth checking out.

Sets are baby onion plants you buy at the nursery. It only takes a few minutes to plant a bunch of these, if your garden is ready. The Damsel planted both yellow and red varieties on this bright spring morning.

For root crops like onions, it’s best if the earth is well-tilled and relatively stone free. Now that you mention it, that’s the case for pretty much any crop, not just root crops. But while onions will grow around a stone, it can make them misshapen. And who wants an ugly onion? Hmmm?

Poke a little hole in that perfect garden soil.

Stick in one of the baby onion plants and firm the soil around. It’s ok to plant them sort of close, if you have plenty. Once they get growing, you can thin them and eat the thinnings for green onions.

That’s it.

Now dream of the salsa that is to come.

1. eggshells are free.

2. planting in eggshells adds good nutrients to the soil, strengthening the little plant.

Starting seeds in eggshells now, for later planting in the garden, is so easy a child can do it. As a matter of fact, this makes a good kid project. And isn’t that why we have kids? To create our own private workforce?

Pardon while the Damsel attempts to stop laughing hysterically.

Begin by cutting off the top of the eggshell, fairly close to the top. The Damsel used a sharp, slightly serrated knife, and got it started by gently whacking the knife into the eggshell. Then she carefully cut with a sawing motion until the top was cut off. Your mileage may vary.

Pour the egg into something to reserve for another use. You can wash out the eggshell now if you like, but it’s not necessary. The Damsel just HAD to because of the goober factor.

Poke a few drainage holes in the bottom with a straight pin or some such.

Fill the egg with potting soil and add water until the soil is nice and damp. Plant one or two seeds, your choice, according to the depth the seed packet specifies. (After the sprouts come up, choose the strongest to be the Chosen One. Ruthlessly pull the other one out.)

Set the egg in a nice warm spot, using an egg carton or a ring of paper for it to sit in for stabilization.

Now here’s the cool part…when the sprout is big enough to plant outside (and the weather is right) you can plant it as is, egg and all, into the garden. Some folks say to crush the eggshell a little in your hands right before you plant it, to make sure the roots can make their way out. The eggshell will add nutrients to the soil and your little seedling will be off to a great start.

Do you want more?

It’s easy as kindergarten to enlarge your grape kingdom, and if you live in the Northern hemisphere, this is the perfect time to do it–while the plants are dormant and spring is only a few months away.

Please, Spring! Be only a few months away!

(the view from the Damsel’s window this morning)

On an existing grape plant, find a vine roughly a pencil’s thickness.

Trim a piece roughly two feet long, with four or so nodes, but don’t fuss. It helps if you make one of the cuts close to a node. This mystery will all become clear soon.

Done in conjunction with pruning, you should have plenty of vine to choose from. One pruned vine can yield several baby grape plants.

Some folks dip the cut ends in rooting medium and plant directly in pots, in a warmish place until spring. The Damsel chose to go the other route, which is to just put the cuttings in a quart jar of water. If you put the end with the node close to the bottom downward, it will have a better chance of staying submerged. This is your goal. (A ha! Mystery revealed!)

Now you wait, refilling the jar as necessary as water evaporates. It will take a few weeks until nice roots form. Watch for another post later when it’s time to plant. Be patient, and stay warm with thoughts of the Spring that surely will come.

The Damsel was going to show you a magnified picture of a spider mite but they gave her nightmares. So no.

Last year the garden managed to still produce fairly well but many plants were really stressed from spider mite attacks. By this time last year, our potatoes were pretty much dead, with just a fraction of the yield we’d hoped for. The Damsel felt sad about it. She knows how it feels to be picked on by little creatures. So this year the Knight has been trying something new, and so far it’s working.

Soapy water has been used for over 200 years to control insects, and with the new interest in “going green” and growing organically, people like the Knight are giving it a try. A little soap has long been used by farmers to make water “wetter” by breaking its surface tension. Apparently it’s also lethal for little bugs. Too bad!

How can you tell if you have a spider mite problem? Take a piece of white paper out to the garden, hold it under some leaves, and tap the leaves briskly. Stuff will fall onto the paper. Some of it will be dust and other garden debris. Look closely. Do any of the dust specks move? They’re probably spider mites–after all, they are super common.

Put some soap (we used cheap dishwashing soap) in a dial sprayer. Set the dial for 3 ounces per gallon, connect your hose, and the sprayer will automatically mix the soap with the spraying water in the right dilution.

These spray dealios are really quite neat. You can of course use them for other things you might spray…just make sure it’s clean before you use it for the soap. (The Knight likes him some Roundup now and then, for example. You don’t want any of that kind of residue)

Spray the plants, trying to hit the undersides of the leaves as much as you can. That’s spider mite hometown. Then spray the tops.

You can dial it back to 2 ounces–just use enough that you can see a light amount of suds on the leaves. Too much isn’t good for the plants.

In the interest of full disclosure, some internet sources say that dishwashing soap isn’t the best choice, and there are special soaps made for spraying in the garden you ought to pony up for. Apparently some plants don’t care for cheap dishwasher soap at all. The Knight has used it on potatoes, tomatoes and roses and things seem good. Your mileage may vary. Why not try the cheap stuff on a small percentage of your garden and see how it goes?

In order to get rid of a spider mite infestation, you have to do this every two or three days until they seem under control.

Soap–a good thing, in more ways than you thought.

There’s something sweetly innocent about these little blossoms. Cute, yes, but it’s their fragrance the Damsel loves so dearly.

The Damsel has a few lilac bushes in her yard but because there can never be enough lilacs in the world for her taste, she decided to learn how to take cuttings from her bushes to make more. The Damsel has considerable practice at making babies and would like to say that making baby lilacs is ridiculously easy. Comparatively speaking.

There are a few ways of bringing a new lilac baby into the world. This is perhaps the easiest…digging up and replanting a sucker.

Lilacs can grow pretty large. This specimen is only a teenager…planted some ten years ago when it was a 2 foot tall stick. If you don’t have lilacs of your own to use, you may know someone who wouldn’t mind giving you a start.

On a day that’s not too hot, look at the base of the bush. Usually, you’ll see a large woody base, almost tree-ish, out of which branches and stems are growing. Some, like in this picture, seem to be growing out of the ground but are actually attached to the mother base. These are baby “suckers,” feeding off the mother plant. The parallels to human motherhood are obvious.

With a sharp shovel, slice deeply downward next to the mother base, separating the sucker from the mother. Hopefully, a few roots will remain on the sucker.

Put this baby in its own hole, tamp the soil around it, and water well.

The Damsel’s #4 sprog left for a Mormon mission this week, and it indeed felt like something was sliced off. It wasn’t that she didn’t know this day would come. She knew when she got him, she couldn’t keep him tiny forever. Still, the slice-off hurt like the devil.

But proud! So proud. And so joyous the child survived the faltering attempts at parenting…being a guinea pig for his parents’ on-the-job training…to become strong enough to survive the slice.

Some babies grow in line with the grownup plants. These are the good babies. But others grow willy-nilly, in the path between rows or even in your grass. You must do something with these. Otherwise, the babies grow up and start getting into trouble. They join gangs and hurt people. Your patch will get clogged with thorny plants until it’s pretty much impossible to walk among them without bleeding. The Damsel’s had problems with her raspberry babies in the past, so she’s passing on a word of warning. Don’t let your raspberry patch resemble the thorny hedge around Sleeping Beauty’s castle. This is her wish.

You can ruthlessly pull them up. It seems cruel, but you must remember that any plant that’s growing in the wrong place is a weed.

Or, you can use the babies to increase your raspberry kingdom. These plants aren’t that delicate, so they withstand transplanting well. Find a likely spot and dig about a bit, to loosen the soil. Make a hole to receive the baby, maybe six inches deep. Then simply dig the baby up with a shovel (not a hand trowel) and place it in the hole, disturbing the roots as little as possible. Add more soil if necessary and firm it around the baby. Water well.

If you’re making a row, place them at least two feet apart. The babies will grow into teenagers this year, and next year they’ll start making berries…and babies…of their own. Circle of Life.

If you’re local to the Cottage by the Mountains, (northern Utah) the Damsel is putting her raspberry babies up for adoption. It’s the right thing to do. Email her at mhovley at gmail dot com if you’re interested.

And she especially loves new potatoes, which means freshly dug and not monstrous. She feels it a tragedy of modern life that many people don’t know about the wonderfulness that is a new potato. She’d like to invite these people over for a taste. One at a time.

Potatoes are easy-peasy to plant. Experts say it’s best to buy seed potatoes meant for your area, but just know that many a potato plant has been grown from a regular old potato taken from the eating-stash.

First cut the seed potatoes into pieces. See the little dimple in the middle? That’s an “eye,” and that’s what the roots will grow from. It’s best if you can plan the cuts so each piece has three or so of these “eyes.” Even one is okay, but three is better.

Put some anti-fungal garden dust in a container such as a paper bag, and add the cut potatoes. Coat with the dust. (Shake the bag) You could skip this step, but your potatoes might not grow as well, and that’s too sad to think about.

The Damsel’s father once grew potatoes on a large scale so he was the font of wisdom for her. He told the Damsel many interesting tidbits, including the fact that poor folks used to plant potato peelings because they needed their potatoes for eating. And they’d actually sorta grow. He also used to mix the anti-fungal with talcum to make it go farther. It sealed the “wound” of the cut potato and stopped fungus from growing thereon.

Make a trench about six inches deep, but don’t fuss. Plant potatoes about a foot apart.

Note: The Damsel’s family is owned by a dog-shaped horse whose job is “fertilizing” the back yard, which he does with great thoroughness. One year, the potato trenches were lined with “fertilizer” as an experiment. The potatoes grew in lush abundance.

Cover the taters with a nice dirt blanky…

…and then tamp the soil down. Get the neighbor kids involved whenever possible. The Damsel has found that when she provides the damp earth, little boys are happy to provide the bare feet. Water well if needed.

Now then. After the potatoes sprout, there’s more to do. It’s best to add more dirt as they grow, etc. etc.. But for now, we’re just planting and calling it good. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.

What little she knows, she is happy to share with you.

Raspberries grow on long, willowy, prickly wands (properly called canes). They grow straight up from the ground without branching. They produce fruit on last year’s canes. That is, one year a cane will grow, get all long and stuff, nice and leafy, but no raspberries in sight. The next year raspberries will form on these one-year-old canes, while at the same time new canes (for next year) are also growing up, all mixed in together.

Then, once the canes produce fruit, they die. That’s all they live for. Once they’ve made their beautiful little fruit, they lose their will to survive and it’s all over. These canes can then be pruned out.

The Damsel likes to do this the following spring, early before the new canes start growing. The reason she likes to do it then is:

1. There’s less stuff to contend with–the weeds haven’t started growing yet, nor the new canes. All she has is the canes that will fruit this year and the old dead ones from last year.

2. It’s a little easier to tell everything apart. The two kinds of canes each have their own look. The Damsel will attempt to show you what she means by this.

Let’s be honest. Last year’s canes have a sad, dead look. There’s this whitish, papery layer on the wood, and the canes are brittle. Sometimes they’ll break right off in your hands before you even have a chance to cut them out. Many will have already broken off, pushed down by snow or large dog-shaped horses.

The live canes will have little buds of growth, a lighter color, more flexible, and if you cut them they will have a live, greenish layer in their wood. They will also strive with all their might to snag your ponytail and scratch your arms and poke you in the eye.

Snip the dead ones as close to the ground as you can reasonably manage, and attempt to remove the cut cane from the rest. Not as easy as it sounds, because it likes to tangle itself with its brother canes and stab humans. That’s what kind of creature we’re dealing with.

Here’s an area of the Damsel’s raspberry patch that has been pruned. Notice the live canes reaching out toward her in a menacing way. And the bonus PVC pipe sticking up in the middle. Don’t trim or cut the live canes at all. Berries form all the way out to their ends, so trimming them back means less Berries 4 U.

It’s hard to believe, but soon, these claw-looking thorn-infested canes will be covered with lush green leaves and delicious red berries. (And they will still be prickly and pokey as ever.)

Love hurts.