Snap!

pisum sativum

This pretty little flower is a promise. 

A promise of sugar snap peas. 

That's a pretty sweet promise.

I made mention of them in an earlier post.  It's nothing short of a miracle (the miracle of mother nature) that these guys made it past the strawberries.  But they did.  And they are now growing quite rapidly.  I've strung up hemp line to help them skyward. 

Actually, truth be told, I originally put up the line to keep Maya out of those beds and away from the strawberries.  Last year I ate only one berry, and really only a handful of them grew.  But those remaining four were 'picked' by Maya.  She was as good as she could be about it - she brought each and every one of them in to me to share. 

Aw.  So sweet.

She really is sweet.

Like sugar snap peas! 

Mangetout!

D'oh

I was sowing seeds a spell ago.  More chard and beet and lettuce. 

I had the proper number of pots for the job but I quickly realized that I didn't have enough markers on hand.   (More on markers later.)

Since I planned to line them all along the side of the garage, I decided to make do with what I had (as I was feeling terribly lazy) and those without markers would run along after pots potted with the same plant, until you ran into a different veggie (with its marker) so that they all ran along the outside wall in order.

Planter marked 'chard'...two planters to the right with chard but no marker...Planter marked 'beets'...three planters to the right with beets with no marker...and so on...and so on...and so on...

This worked like a charm and I was pleased with what I'd done.

Fast forward a week - the rains came.  (By-the-way, they haven't left.  grrrr...)  And I thought, "Oh! Well, best get those pots watered!  Move them out from under the shelter of the garage roof and save the effort of having to water them myself!" 

So clever.

(pat pat pat on the back)

Out I ran and moved those pots.

In no particular order.

Darnit.

Guess I'll find out what those unmarked pots contain when they sprout.

Fava Beans and a Nice Chianti

Vicia faba

I'll spare you the full quote.  But really, how many of us out there don't think of fava beans without thinking of Silence of the Lambs?  

...unfortunately my mind can't help but go there.  Though quite contrarily: Silence of the Lambs tends to give me a case of the heebie jeebies while fava beans make me pretty happy.

Why?

Well, the plant itself is really quite lovely.  If you are sure to plant the beans (after you've innoculated them) 3 inches or so below the soil, you'll give your plants a good base from which to grow (and remain) upright.  These beasties can reach 6' tall!  (woof!)  And the flowers.  Oh, the flowers!  They really are quite delightful and, to me, seem a bit ~sophisticated~.  Maybe it's the black and white thing - like how we tend to think that penguins are all running around in tuxes. 

taken 5/8/10 - they are about two feet tall

Anyway...looking past 'pretty', fava beans (also known as broad beans or field beans) are a great cover crop as they create a whole lot of biomass (that's 'plant material' to us laymen) and are excellent nitrogen fixers (they take nitrogen from the air and deliver it down the plant to the roots and soil where the nitrogen is stored - this is very good for your soil's health).  I'll get into cover crops later - as in towards the end of summer later - because it's spring time and it seems far too far away to be thinking of that quite yet. 

awww...Maya and the favas...

...a week later (5/14) and they are at least six inches taller!

The favas I planted six or seven weeks ago (which, anyone will tell you, is late - but *I'll* quickly respond 'better late than never!') are no cover crop - I have every intention of enjoying the favas that are surely (hopefully...) soon (eventually...) to arrive.  But like planting for cover crop, they will still provide a good bit of biomass for my compost and definitely will amend the soil in my planter box with greatly appreciated nitrogen. 

today - the growth has slowed down - now these favas are busy pushing out flowers!

I am willing to concede that there are way too many favas planted in this container...and I have little defense. 

They look pretty and I am greedy. 

I'll be sure to post a photo when those bean pods begin to form.  They are quite large and the fuzzy, fat pod contains a half dozen or so beans.  Each bean is wrapped in its own membrane that needs to be removed before you enjoy them.

(Oh, and you will enjoy them.) 

That whole bean-from-jacket-extraction is a bit of a pain but I push past it.  Just take a moment to boil some water, drop the beans in for a minute, then run them under cold water (or drop them in an ice water bath) to stop the cooking. 

Then remove the membrane: I usually pinch off the tip of one the end of the bean's little 'wrapper' and then squeeze the membrane (and bean) so that the bean pushes its way out through the wee tear I've created. 

Once I've got some favas to eat (oh! what a treat!) I'll try to take a photo or two of the process.

I usually add them to stir fried veggies - or saute them with some onion and ginger if I've got a whole lot of them.  But sometimes they don't make it that far - I gobble them up plenty as I'm prepping them and they are good just as is with a little salt and pepper. 

Don't be discouraged from preparing these - they really are quite good and are worth a little extra effort!

And I will tell you that I did enjoy some favas last night (courtesy of Organics to You, thanks again, Momma!)

With lamb burgers.

:)  Really.

They Bee Buggin': Mason Bees

Mason bee (family Osmia)

Okay, to start, I gotta tell you, I'd been itchin' to make a bee box for many, many moons.  I got a bee in my bonnet (so to speak) about it last year but never did a thing about it but think on it.  A couple weekends ago I got to talking about it (*again*) and then just quit talking and up and made one.

If you don't know what a bee box is, you might be impressed. 

That's about to end.  Because it really is quite simple...

You get yourself a drill, a drill bit (5/16-inch), a block of wood, a couple nails and some screws and *voila* -- you've got yourself a bee box.

Mason bees are solitary bees who lay their eggs in holes.  If they can't find holes, they lay fewer eggs...so if you build yourself a bee box, you'll likely find mason bees quickly on the scene.  And that is a good thing because mason bees are pollinators...so they'll help your garden grow.  And since they don't have a hive to protect, they aren't pushy - unless you squeeze or step on one, you aren't likely to get stung.

What these bees do is, they lay an egg and then go get some mud and build a wall around the egg and then lay another egg, mud wall it, and so on...and so on...until the hole is packed shut with mud (and eggs!)

The bee box I built ten days ago is just about ready for the 'no vacancy' sign so I drilled up another one Monday.  I seriously giggled - well, I mean to say, I'm serious about the fact that I giggled - when I saw that almost all of those holes from the first unit were filled. As I stood there smiling with extreme satisfaction, a fuzzy wee bee peered out of one of the holes - like she was saying hello.  She caught me by surprise.  And then she flew away. 

I ran and got the camera and then stood sentry in front of that box...with my hands held over my head, my camera at the ready should another bee appear.

It took a while and my arms went numb more than a few times...but I did get some fun photos. 

 

I am *so* delighted by this.

The Dilemma: Featuring Fennel

Disclaimer: no fennel grows in my garden.  But it could some day.  And with that in mind, I write...

My Organics to You box arrived today and inside was a fennel bulb.  Hm.  I've never prepared fennel before.  In fact, I've eaten it only a handful of times.

I wasn't sure what I'd do with it so started perusing my cookbooks in search of something that might grab me. 

America's Test Kitchen had plenty of fennel recipes: fennel braised with kale sauce (kale sauce? um, yummy) and linguine...fennel in bread stuffing with ham, mushrooms and pine nuts...on pizza with sun dried tomatoes and asiago...roasted with red onions and carrots...  Well, there were a lot of options there that sounded tasty, but they also sounded a bit heavier than I was after.  I had a pretty rich weekend full of excellent friends, good food and celebration so I was looking for something a little more fresh and light.  (And quite honestly, I wasn't in the mood for a major endeavour in the kitchen.)

I took a gander at my Moosewood Restaurant Low-Fat Favorites: Flavorful Recipes for Healthful Meals book next and learned that it's a member of the parsley family (ha!) and is native to the Mediterranean.  And so they say,the bulb has a crunchy texture like celery and has a mild licorice taste...hmmm...what to do, what to do...

Looked online a bit and flipped through more books and learned that fennel is rich in vitamins A, B complex, phosphorus, potassium (which we in the NW get plenty of) and sulfur.  It provides relief from abdominal cramping and nausea and stimulates the appetite.  I also learned that it is best eaten raw..and so that's where I landed.
I found a recipe for Jicama, Orange and Fennel salad in one of my Moosewood books.  It fit perfectly as my box came with oranges...as well as radishes - so I swapped out the jicama for radish and went to work.

I didn't have a clue as to how to clean and cut the fennel but found plenty of info online.  This video was my favorite resource.  (Plus I love the Australian accent.)

The recipe was incredibly simple and it turned out quite lovely.  I'd make it again!

They Be Buggin': Spittlebugs

Spittlebugs (family Cercopidae)

The collection of 'spit' resting on the chamomile shown here is actually a mix of liquid waste and mucosal secretions that are whipped up into tiny air bubbles by finger-like appendages on this wee feller:

This is the nymphal stage of, I'm guessing here, a meadow spittlebug.  That foamy spit protects its soft-bodied self from drying out, insulates from heat and cold, and also keeps him safe from predators and parasites. 

Eggs are laid at the end of summer, they overwinter and in May they begin to hatch and look for a place to grow.  Their favorite nesting place is a pine tree but they find many a home within a garden.  A few weeks of feeding and they go from spittlebug to 'frog hopper' -- in their adult form they can jump over 100 times their length. (whoa)

Personally (and despite the fact that these guys like to whip up a hut of foamy waste to live and grow in), I find the little wee green guys to be pretty cute.  But they are considered pests. 

These babies pierce plants and suck sap which causes damage to the plants. The liquid they glean from our plants helps to make that foamy home.  How much damage they cause isn't really that significant unless you have a serious infestation.  You can blast your plants with a hose and that will remove them...but I don't have too many and am of the opinion of 'live and let live' so I let them stay.  They'll be gone in a couple weeks anyway. 

(I did put this little guy that I photo'd into a massive pile of lemon balm growing near the chamomile.  'Spreading the wealth', I suppose.)

Mind you, if my spittlebug infestation got out of control, I'd definitely take to removing them from my plants by any force deemed necessary.  But it's not an issue now...so they stay.

Strawberry Fields Forev-uh

I'm discovering something about myself while writing these postings:  I am a completely haphazard gardener.  With much to learn, much to learn.

But boy, what a classroom!

Last year I purchased two strawberry plants.  I was clever enough to figure out how to divide those two plants into many, which I planted in containers about the yard.  My friend, Pat, gave me a few more which I planted in more containers.  In all, I probably had near a dozen plants in pots.  But then, much to my surprise (as I'd never grown strawberries before), they began to scout their surroundings, sending out runners which then found a place to nestle in the dirt and then up sprouts another strawberry plant. 

Strawberries get around.

This is one (of two) raised beds.  Last year two pots with a strawberry plant in each, hugged the two south-facing corners of this plot. 

This year the bed is covered in strawberry plants (which I sincerely hope means soon to be covered in strawberries) -- save for the champ of chard towering to the north east corner and the few lone sugar snap peas that managed to see the light of day before the strawberry canopy could envelope them.

But it is such a treat to fold back a leaf or two to see what lies beneath:

Too sweet.