IT'S EVERYTHING ELSE

The Rev. Dana Prom Smith, S.T.D., Ph.D. (2/14/2015)

 

          The problems with growing tomatoes aren’t the tomato plants themselves.  It’s everything else, such as hail, sleet, downpours, howling winds, drought, bugs, vermin, insects, bacteria, fungus, and viruses, to name a few.  The tomato plant is defined as tender which means it’s easily afflicted. 

 

          Years ago while I had my offices on Westwood Boulevard in Los Angeles, a well-known motion picture actress made an appointment to see me.  She was beautifully painted, powdered, and perfumed, but all that glitters is not gold.  She said. “Dr. Smith, I’ve heard many wonderful things about you, but I’d like to say something before we begin.”

 

          Softly touching the back of my hand, flawlessly manicured nails aglow, she said, “Now, I want you to be completely truthful with me, but you must understand that I’m easily hurt.”  As she spoke a barely perceptible twitchy smirk played across her lips.  I thought I saw deep in her eyes an untouchable lunacy, the kind of lunacy that takes pleasure in confusion and chaos.  Our encounter was brief and unsuccessful.  She always comes to mind when I think of planting tomatoes.  Sadly, my relationships with tomato plants have often been brief and unsuccessful, “now and then” misfortunes.  Last year, hail wiped out almost all of our tomato plants.

 

          Like the actress, tomatoes are beautiful, and as Cole Porter wrote in Jubilee, sometimes they are “just one of those things, a trip to the moon on gossamer wings, just one of those things.”  

 

          To make them more than “just one of those things,” the tomato grower has to think defensively, something like defensive driving in which the driver thinks everyone else on the road is a maniac.  Plant them far enough a part (3 feet) so that airborne diseases may not easily travel from plant to plant.  Also, it’s needful to control the soil so that soil borne diseases may not infect the plant.  This means sterile soil in containers.  The soil should be friable and moist, not water-logged.  A heavy feeder, they require a 5-10-5 fertilizer.  Since they are delicate and are prone to fall over, they are best grown in cages.  Also, the cages allow for rapid cover in case of hail, a “now and then” thing in Flagstaff.  An excellent compendium on growing tomatoes is online at http://ag.arizona.edu/pubs/garden/mg/vegetables/tomatoes.html.

 

          While the problem isn’t with the tomato plants themselves, the harsh climate in Flagstaff isn’t congenial to these tender and fragile vines.  Our growing season isn’t long enough for those luscious heirloom tomatoes grown in warmer climes, maybe the ones remembered as a child.  In short, growing tomatoes in Flagstaff and environs is against the tide.

 

          Grief is an inevitable experience with growing tomatoes.  Most of the afflictions that befall growing tomatoes do not happen in the early and middle stages in the development of the plants.  They occur during the monsoon that cusp of time when the color of the fruit on the vine is beginning to turn to ripe, gold, deep red.  Sometimes, the calamity strikes after the color has turned when the gardener is ready to pluck the fruit.  The hail storm almost always strikes when the plants are full of ripe and ripening fruit.

 

          However, all is not lost.  If the gardener manages to thread all of the hazards without calamity, the rewards are above any monetary value, almost transcending into spiritual ecstasy.  The experience of plucking a golden Siberian cherry Galina in the middle of the morning when the sun has warmed the garden is a delight without compare.  The taste is complex and exquisite and worth the work and heartache.

 

          The same can be said for another Siberian, Sasha’s Altai, and the Czechoslovakian Stupice.  Along with the Galina, they all come to maturity in 55-60 days, a necessity with our short growing season.

 

All that glitters is not gold, but the fact remains that gold glitters.  Tomatoes are the gold of gardening, and they worth all the fussing, anxiety, and grief.  Beyond compare is the taste of a home-grown tomato flushing out the debris lurking in our mouths and awakening again our taste buds to a resurrection of grace.     

Copyright © Dana Prom Smith 2015

Dana Prom Smith and Freddi Steele edit Gardening Etcetera for the Arizona Daily Sun.  Smith’s email address is stpauls@npgcable.com and his blog is http://highcountrygardener.blogspot.com.

           

ABOUT FIFTY YEARS AGO SELMA

 

The Rev. Dana Prom Smith, S.T.D., Ph.D. (3/11/2015)

 

          About fifty years ago, March 9, 1965, an army buddy of mine, James Reeb, was bludgeoned by a gang of thugs in Selma, Alabama.  While in the army, we lived cheek by jowl for over a year.  He died two days later in a Birmingham hospital.  In a police riot that same night, I was jailed, shackled, and beaten.  Neither Jim nor I knew that the other was going to Selma.  We had gone to march with Martin Luther King, Jr.  Neither of us marched.  Jim was killed, and I was escorted early the next morning by the sheriff’s deputy, who had beaten and kicked me, to the bus station, and told not to return.  We believed that all human beings deserve equality having been created in the image of God and graced by Jesus Christ. 

 

          The thugs were tried and acquitted.

 

I write this not to elicit sympathy and approval and certainly not ridicule.  I’ve long passed the point in my life where those things matter.  My point is simple: someplace, sometime, somewhere in our lives for our own spiritual welfare we must do the right thing.  I believed going to Selma was the right thing.  I still do. 

 

          W. Somerset Maughm in the “The Summing Up” wrote: “the philistines have replaced the rack with the wise crack.”  Ridicule is in.

If people can’t think well, they will frequently resort to ridicule which means that they have nothing to say.

 

          I still bear the marks of that night.  I often think about Selma and doing the right thing, especially nowadays.  When I do, gardening often comes to mind.  It’s doing the right thing, something intimately and directly connected with God’s intention for the earth.  It’s not exploiting the earth for private profit.  Exploitive industries claim that they have a right to plunder the earth as a means of turning a profit, a really profane and blasphemous claim.  Their rationale is sociopathic.

 

          Instead of exploiting the earth, gardeners are replenishing the earth.  The “in” word is sustainability, but the word sustainability has lost its power by becoming a catch word.  The earth is a gift from God for human welfare, not something to be used up and thrown away.

 

          There is a phrase in the Book of Common Order’s Funeral Service referring to the deceased which reads, “made the world richer for his (or her) presence.”   We all know terrible people who have made the world worse for their presence.  Gardeners make the world richer for their presence, beginning with beauty.

 

          Human beings leave so many ugly constructions in their wake, such as some of the buildings at the Sawmill, that a beautiful yard is a treasure.  Beauty enhances the human spirit, while ugliness corrodes it.

How many morning walks and evening strolls have been graced by beautiful yards!

 

          However, beyond beauty, there is the issue of the earth’s welfare, like air, water, and soil.  The trees and bushes planted by gardeners help purify our air.  We’re at a point in the earth’s destruction where we’ll be compelled to restrict the use of water for non-essential purposes so that we can continue to drink it and irrigate the plants we use for food.    

 

          Ironically, many of the commercial fertilizers used in industrial agriculture are depleting the earth’s nutritional values by turning fields into wastelands.  The composting movement which began with small farmers and gardeners seeks to enrich the earth rather than deplete it, making it richer because of their presence.  Even industrial agriculture is beginning to compost, finding it cheaper and more effective than artificial fertilizers.

 

          Our water, soil, and air are all imperiled by human greed, the belief that exploitation for the profit of a few is acceptable.  The gardeners are teaching us that enriching the earth is the right thing.  At my age, I’ll be 88 in a few weeks, I think about the significance of my own life, especially all of the ironies.  It is better to leave the legacy that instead of corroding and ravishing the world that we have enriched it by doing the right thing.   

 

Copyright © Dana Prom Smith 2015

 

Dana Prom Smith and Freddi Steele edit Gardening Etcetera for the Arizona Daily Sun.  Smith emails at stpauls@npgcable.com and blogs at http://highcountrygardener.blogspot.com. 

 

 

 

           

         

 

         

 

 

BEETS IN CHERRY JELLO

The Rev. Dana Prom Smith, S.T.D., Ph.D. (2/28/2015)

 

          While a soldier in the U. S. Army, my unit, Special Troops, often patrolled Alaska’s bush hunting criminals and saboteurs. Such forays in the winter were more arduous than in the summer although the ground was firmer.  In the summer, it was marshy and mosquito infested.  As an 18 year old buck sergeant, I was in charge of a squad tracking a native soldier who had killed his wife with an ulu knife.  Happily, an Alaskan Scout was our guide.

 

          Without sunlight, without showers, with the Northern Lights, living on field rations for several days, we stunk.  We craved hot showers, warm beds, warm food, and fresh fruit and vegetables.  The cooks had prepared a special treat for us, cherry Jello.  Since they didn’t have any cherries, instead they used canned beets.

 

For reasons other than cherry Jello, beets have been out of fashion for several years, considered plebian along with turnips, rutabagas, and parsnips; however, beets and their allies are now becoming de rigueur.  Carrots have always remained standard fare, not quite fashionable and bourgeois.  However, root vegetables are now happily chic.

 

Root vegetables are naturals for Flagstaff and the Colorado Plateau.  Unlike tomatoes, they don’t wilt at the first sign of frost.  A hardy lot, they’re nutritious, attractive, and easy to grow. 

 

         

The Detroit Dark Red is an heirloom developed in 1892 by a Mr. Reeves in Port Hope, Ontario, Canada.  He began with an Early Blood Turnip which was also grown at Monticello by Thomas Jefferson whose gardens were undoubtedly tended by his slaves.  Aside from that, the Detroit Dark Red has a noble lineage.

 

An all around vegetable, almost all of it can be eaten.  The

young leaves can be used in salads, and before they are too old can be used as a

side dish or in soups and stir fry.

 

          However, the real triumph of the Detroit Dark Red is the root, a delightful globe, best plucked early while it is still tender and tasty.  To prevent the dark red from staining everything in sight, the globe is best boiled, baked, or roasted in its skin with the small base of leaves attached to the top and the small pig tail left on.  After cooking, the skin can easily be slipped off without red stain running all over.

 

          Not all beets are dark red globes.  The Italian heirloom, Chioggia, with its interior rings of bright pink and white offers a great contrast to the Detroit Dark Red.  With its sweet and peppery taste, it’s also an eye catcher when properly sliced.

 

          As the name suggests, the Golden Beet is golden in color and doesn’t bleed as do the red beets.  A fetching contrast to the red beets, it’s attractive, sweet, and nutritious.

 

          The Bulls Blood Beet is, also, an heirloom.  With an earthy yet sweet flavor, it’s darker and richer than the others with its leaves a deep maroon.  When picked young, its leaves are a striking contrast in salads.  It’s a beet connoisseur’s beet.

 

          The rules for growing beets are simple.  Sow the seeds a few weeks before the expected last frost and keep sowing on through to fall.  Plant an inch deep about 12 to 15 seeds per foot and thin to 2 to 3 inches.  Plant in well-composted soil and keep the watering even.  When harvesting, choose a dry day, cut off tops near the crown, don’t wash the root, and store in the crisper in a plastic bag with small holes.  They’ll last a long time.  They can be stored, boiled, pickled, roasted, baked, canned, and frozen. 

         

          As far as pests are concerned, aphids are a possible threat.  Dill, coriander, and bronze fennel draw the insects which feed on aphids.  Lady bugs are excellent predators on aphids.  Spray insecticidal soap and detergent on the leaves’ undersides where the aphids hide out.  Never use systemic poisoning.  Systemic suicide is a horticultural no-no.

 

Beets bring a delight to the eye, a pleasure to the palate, health to the body, and clarity to the mind.  As with tomatoes, beets are great when canned, but forget the cherry Jello.

         

Copyright © Dana Prom Smith 2015

Dana Prom Smith and Freddi Steele edit Gardening Etcetera for the Arizona Daily Sun.  Smith emails at stpauls@npgcable.com and blogs at http://highcountrygardner,blogspot.com.

 

 

ALSO SPRACH MEINE ŰBERFRAU

The Rev. Dana Prom Smith, S.T.D., Ph.D. (1/31/2015)

 

          “You know, you don’t have to have meat at every meal.  Sometimes, a delicious salad is good enough,” thus spake meine Überfrau.  Munching on a pile of bean sprouts felt as though I were grazing on Kentucky blue grass.  With a distinct taste of chlorophyll, I was prepared to photosynthesize, rather than digest my food.

 

          It’s like losing contact with one’s bicuspids, those pitiful remnants of fangs.  Looking into the mouths of our labs, Petite and Katrina, I see those beautiful white fangs, especially Petite’s because she’s black, and they’re so white.  The argument seems to be whether vegetables were meant to be the main dish or a side dish.  Actually, a lot of Asians mix the meat and vegetables together with the sauce being the pièce de résistance.  Human beings are omnivores, crossover eaters, which raises the issue of vegetable gardens since most gardeners don’t raise cattle, swine, or chickens in their backyards.

 

          The best vegetables to grow are the easiest ones to grow which

puts tomatoes way down the list.  They’re a pain in the ass to grow, and

he only reason to grow them is that home-growns taste is so good while

store-bought are insults to the tongue, as in acid with no taste. Tomatoes

are worth the effort.  Socially, most of us experience enough tasteless

acid every day without eating it.

 

          Green beans are the easiest to grow and the tastiest.  The best

green beans are the French haricots verts which is French for green

beans.  Haricots means beans and verts means green.  The etymological

origin of haricot is probably from the Aztec ayacotli indicating that beans,

at least most of the common beans, Phaseolus vulgaris, originated in

South America, in what is now Peru.  Incidentally, tomatoes come from

the same place.

 

As the refrain goes, “Everything sounds better in French,” so it’s

pronounced something like ah-ree-koh-VEHR, not HAIRY-cot-vert.  Going a step further, a lot of food tastes better in French.  Haricots verts are longer and thinner than most varieties.  They are also more tender and have a more complex flavor.

 

          Now to the nitty-gritty of growing French green beans.  One caveat, the seeds cost a more than the regular line-up of green beans, about a dollar a package.  Now, for our odyssey into the space of haricot vert.

 

          Starting them indoors is chancy because green beans don’t do well being transplanted.  They need temperatures between 50º to 85º to thrive so plant them after the danger of frost is past or else the seeds might rot in the soil.  In case of a surprising cold snap, cover them.  Bush beans are easier to grow than climbers, a real no-brainer.  Plant the seeds two inches apart and one inch deep.  Make sure the soil is fertile, friable, and well-drained.  Green beans generally mature between 55-60 days.  For a summer-long harvest, sow the beans every two weeks.  Harvest them every two or three days.

 

          Mulch the soil, and water regularly on sunny days.  Spare high nitrogen fertilizer to avoid lush plants with no beans.  Shallow cultivation doesn’t disturb the roots, and planting summer savory and oregano as companions will improve their taste as well as protecting them from aphids.

 

          Fin de Bagnols, as the name suggests, is a fine and delicate bean from southern France.  It’s at least one hundred years old. 

 

          Maxi is a delight to grow because it is a teepee plant meaning that the beans grow on the top of the bush.  A compact bush, its pods are long and thin.

 

          Maxibel beans are the classic haricots verts .  Dark green and thin at about seven or eight inches, their taste is elegant and luxurious.

 

          A genuine gustatory delight is the Beurre de Rocquencort (Butter of Rocquencort.)  A yellow wax bean, it has been grown for almost 200 years after arriving from Algeria.

 

          Perhaps, the best bean from France is the Comtesse de Chambord.  Its pods are thin and only four inches long.  It can be grown in pots.  It is tenderer, sweeter, and nuttier than other beans.  An heirloom, it proves that the best presents come in small packages.

 

          

Copyright © Dana Prom Smith 2015

 

Dana Prom Smith and Freddi Steele edit Gardening Etcetera for the Arizona Daily Sun.  Smith email at stpauls@npgcable.com and blogs at http://highcountrygardener.blogspot.com. 

THE ANSWER MAN: Compost

The Rev. Dana Prom Smith, S.T.D., Ph.D. (1/17/2015))

 

Question.  Dear Answer Man, my name is Conrad Kittredge.  We, my wife Consuelo and I, have just moved here from New York City for our health.  We tried Scottsdale first, but there was too much pollution, heat, and crime.  We needed a dry, pollution free environment, and Flagstaff fit the bill.  However, I have a question.  Several of our neighbors are somewhat trendy and have gone organic.  I believe they’re techies.  When they approach their driveway, the whole place lights up like Times Square on New Year’s Eve.  However, they have compost piles on their property.  I would like to know why their compost stinks.  I don’t mean an unpleasant odor but a really foul stink.  When the wind is right, we’re back in a polluted environment.  It’s enough to make a grown man cry.

 

Answer.  Well, the answer is that compost doesn’t have to stink.  As a matter of fact, a well-functioning compost bin emits a warm, fairly pleasant earthy odor that’s somewhat sweet.  You must be talking about rot or purification.  From what you say, I suspect that your trendy neighbors are novices at composting.  Sometimes, techies are disconnected from the nitty-gritty of life.  They probably throw everything into the compost pile, and that may be one reason their compost stinks.  Meat, fat, bones, oil, any animal byproducts will make a compost pile putrid.

Generally, there are two types of stinking compost piles.  One has the smell of ammonia and the other the smell of rotting flesh.  The ammonicial pile probably is too wet and not aerated, like turned with a pitchfork.  Also, it may have too much nitrogen material.  A thriving compost pile needs oxygen for the decomposing process.  The smell of rotting flesh, one of the most unpleasant of odors, is because there is some rotting flesh or byproducts of flesh in the pile, such as meat and fish scraps and animal or fish oil.  Rot stinks.

 

Question:  That’s all well and good, but what do you suggest I do?

 

Answer:  Well, you can talk to them.  If that fails, you can have them cited as a public nuisance.  Trendy, organic people tend to be quite pleasant if a little self-righteous, holier-than-thou.  The techies are often a little contemptuous of all us mortals, but when they don’t know something, they’re likely to ask.  Sustainability is the new gospel, as it should be; however, sometimes, the sustainers are a little much.

 

Question:  Well, I did as you suggested.  I talked to them, and it turns out that they were as offended as was I by their compost piles and a little mystified about the odor.  I offered to help them, taking your suggestions about animal byproducts and aeration.  It turns out that they didn’t have a pitchfork and neither did I, so I bought one along with a shovel.

As the CFO of a large advertising firm in New York, I hadn’t had much of a relationship with nature, but I sure did when I worked on that compost pile.  Consuelo told me that shoveling stinky compost shouldn’t be new to me because I’d been shoveling it for years.

Well, we got rid of the rot, and now the pile seems to be coming along quite well.  It’s even generating some heat.  I think I might try a pile myself.

 

Answer:  It’s called “cookin.”  Decomposition generates heat.  Now, if you’re serious, you need both carbon and nitrogen for a good compost pile in a three to one ratio.  You might even try a bin.  They’re easier to manage.  Carbon material includes straw, leaves, horse bedding, spoiled hay, manure, and beer mash.  Nitrogen includes freshly mown grass, kitchen scraps, coffee grounds, and tea leaves.

Mix them in that three to one ratio, turn it with a pitchfork every week or so, keep it damp but not wet, and watch refuse turn to gold with a little alchemy in your backyard.  You might even try some flowers and vegetables so that you can put that compost to good use.  It’ll sure be good for your health.  Kale, green beans, and sunflowers are good starters.

Copyright © Dana Prom Smith 2015

Dana Prom Smith and Freddi Steele edit Gardening Etcetera for the Arizona Daily Sun.  Smith emails at stpauls@npgcable.com and blogs at http://highcountrygardener.blogspot.com.

 

    

 

 

         

 

FESTIVE BRUSSELS SPROUTS

The Rev. Dana Prom Smith, S.T.D., Ph.D. (11/22/2014)

          Question:  Dear Answer Man, Abigail here.  I hate to bother you, but I need to talk to someone.  I’m nearly out of my mind these last few days what with Rusty bugging me about my Brussels sprouts.  I’ve been planning the menu for Thanksgiving, and he’s raised a fuss about my plans for salad of Brussels sprouts.  I’ve always thought that Brussels sprouts were traditional on a Thanksgiving menu, but he tells me that they nearly killed a man in Scotland last year at Christmas.   I’ve already promised all the relatives that we’re having a salad of Brussels sprouts.  My family loves them.  As for his, most of them never got beyond cheeseburgers, fries, tacos, chips, and something called “Manwich” which sounds like a testosterone enhancer.

 

Answer Man:  Dear Abigail, I’m surprised that Rusty would know about that story.  It was in the Scottish Western Isles edition of the BBC, and from what you said; I would guess that Rusty gets his news from Fox News, not the BBC, especially the Western Isles edition, like the Isles of Lewis and Harris in the Outer Hebrides.

It’s true that a duffer almost died from gorging on Brussels sprouts.  He had to be taken to the hospital, or he would have died.  Too much of a good thing.

Indeed, Jill Young, chief executive of the Golden Jubilee Hospital, said: "Whilst we think this is possibly the first-ever festive admission to hospital caused by the consumption of Brussels sprouts, we were delighted that we were able to stabilise his levels."

Brussels sprouts are filled with vitamin K which thickens blood if eaten in large quantities.  Sometime before he ate the sprouts, he’d had a heart attack and surgery.  After stuffing himself with the sprouts, he needed his blood thinned so that it wouldn’t clot and kill him.

 

        

Question:  Thanks, Answer Man. I’m sure going to enjoy setting Rusty straight on that, but he doesn’t just stop there.  He also said that they stink, something like urine or something foul.  I kinda know what he means.

         

Answer:  That’s easy.  Either steam or roast them.  Boiling them until they’re soft releases a sulfurous odor that everyone finds offensive.  Or just cook them the day before.  Let them cool.  The next day, they’ll be ready for your salad with no odor.  You can either use them cold or heat them up with a little butter and bread crumbs.

 

          Question:  Thanks again.  One final thing.  What about the flatulence?  Sometimes, Rusty says that he feels like he’s “just going to bloat up and float right outside through the front door.”

 

          Answer:  It’s hard to imagine Rusty levitating, especially since he’s porked up.  As for the sprouts, I’m sorry there’s not much to be done about that except open the windows and bring in the fan which may be a little difficult on a cold November’s day.  Even Benjamin Franklin in 1781 wrote an essay on the problem but offered no solution.  He even had a recipe using a pound of sprouts.  He called it, “Rabbit Stew Adagio” which I assume means “slow cooking.”  The problem is a sugar named riffinose in the sprouts.  The bacteria in the stomach can’t digest it.  Actually, it serves as a kind of defense mechanism for the plants because animals find it offensive.  It just stays there, rotting, like a swamp, gassing up, until it’s passed.

          Beano, a commercial product that contains an enzyme (α CAL) that will digest riffinose, is about the only solution of which I know.  You might set out a few tablets on the table for the guests with a little smiley card.  They’d probably appreciate it.

Besides all this, sprouts are really good for you. 1-cup serving of cooked sprouts has only 56 calories and less than 1 gram of fat, but contains plenty of vitamins A, C, and K, as well as foliate and dietary fiber.  One final thing.  Thank is a transitive verb and needs a direct object so don’t forget to thank God before you eat.  Atheists, secularists, and other spiritual flatliners may not know it, but ingratitude is bad form.

Copyright © Dana Prom Smith 2014

Dana Prom Smith and Freddi Steele edit Gardening Etcetera for the Arizona daily Sun.  Smith emails at stpauls@npgcable.com and blogs at http://highcountrygardener.blogspot.com.

         

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

GARDENING 101: COUNTER-INTELLIGENCE.

The Rev. Dana Prom Smith, S.T.D., Ph.D. (12/3/2014)

 

As a young soldier, really an adolescent, near the end of World War II, I was trained in counter-intelligence, covert operations, and close combat.  Part of the training involved surveillance, a vigilance for espionage and sabotage.  Such training has been invaluable in gardening.

 

I can still hear my captain. "The quiet ones, the ones to whom no one pays mind, the ones that slip by unnoticed, they'll bear watching."  Aphids don't call attention to themselves, slipping by unnoticed.  They bear watching.  Sucking the life out of a plant, they're found on the underside of the leaves, not on top where they can be easily seen.

 

          He also talked about tics, twitches, furrowed brows, and squints, the small signs of stress.  In gardening it's a leaf's curl, a slight discoloration, and a stem's canker.  Signs of a far deeper and far more devastating threat are eyes turned glassy and pupils narrowed or leaves dropped, stems withered, and plants suckled dry by parasites.

 

          Surveillance is one of the gardener's first responsibilities, every morning and evening patrolling the garden with eyes peeled, looking for the quiet ones.  On these patrols through the garden, it's best to poke underneath the leaves while sniffing out lurking culprits.  Check litter, such as small piles of leaves or pieces of wood.  Scatter them, bend over to peek underneath, and then dispose of them.  A principle task for a gardener is to snoop.  Enjoying a garden isn't enough.  Inspecting it is crucial because only an inspected garden will thrive to be enjoyed.

 

          At the first hint of sabotage, don't hope the problem will take care of itself.  It won't.  It'll get worse which means that the gardener on patrol must come prepared, as in well-armed with a spray gun and a hose equipped with a nozzle.  Never allow the enemy an avenue of escape.  Ne pas faire de quartier.

 

Two sets of eyes are better than one so, if possible, take along another snoop while on patrol.

 

Never use ammunition that afflicts the garden, such as friendly fire poisons.  Human beings are singular amongst animals in that they foul their own nests, such as spraying poison on their gardens and food.  At the first sign of under-sided sabotage, turn the nozzle down to a sharp stream and wash the insects into oblivion.  If they appear again, spray them with insecticidal soap, offing the under-sided saboteurs without poisoning the garden.  If they appear again, off'em again until they are no more.  Sans merci.  

 

Saboteurs use surprise, striking from secluded and secret lairs, so it's important to find their hidden cells and destroy them.  Grasshoppers lay their eggs underground in the fall so that they can strike by surprise in the spring, suddenly flying out of the sun, like dive bombers in a blitzkrieg, devouring a garden.

 

Turning the soil with a spade helps expose the nests of eggs to the air, destroying them.  But spading is not enough.  Nests of eggs will always be missed.  Happily, grasshopper nymphs have a thing for wheat bran, and if the wheat bran is mixed with NoLo, their voracious appetite will be their undoing.  Always encounter enemies at their weaknesses.  The grasshopper's vice is gluttony.        

         

          NoLo is short for Nosema locustae spores which are fatal to grasshoppers but harmful to no one else.  NoLo can be purchased in the armaments section at local nurseries or over the internet.

 

          Finally, in the fight against sabotage, allies, such as, green lacewings, lady bugs, and praying mantises are always useful.  More eyes and mouths will find and devour more saboteurs.  These allies can be bought, but as with all bought friends, they're fickle and tend to fly away.  So release them at dusk so after a night's rest they can ravage at first light.  They can be kept in a garden with the hospitality of such plants as dill and yarrow.

 

          The captain, a classics scholar in civilian life, often quoted Demosthenes warning the Athenians of Macedonian perfidy, "There's one safeguard known generally to the wise.  What is it?  Distrust."  Vigilance is one safeguard known to wise gardeners keeping their gardens safe from saboteurs.  

 

Copyright © Dana Prom Smith 2014

 

Dana Prom Smith and Freddi Steele edit Gardening Etcetera for the Arizona Daily Sun.  Smith can be emailed at stpauls@npgcable.com, and he blogs at http://highcountrygardener.blogspot.com.

 

MY LIFE AS A PUMPKIN

 

Aeliana Ricci

 

I am 11 years old and in 5th grade.  All my life I’ve been bored because I always get told what to do, and I’m tired of that.  If I were an adult, I would get to go all over the world without a guardian.  The first place would be Mars.  Then I would get a hot air balloon and steer it.  I would fly a jet plane and drive a neon green muscle car and drive it to school.  I would go on rides where children are not allowed.  I would build great things and own my own pizza company.  I’d get to eat free pizza whenever I wanted.  I would have my own credit cards so I could buy lots of things.  I would get to stay up all night.  And I would like to sit at the end of the bar and talk to bar flies and bums.

 

              One day I had a great idea.  I wanted to be a pumpkin.  If I was a pumpkin, I could change my face whenever I wanted to, friendly, mean, happy, funny and scary face to scare bad people away.  I could also light myself up inside by putting a candle inside myself so I could see what is wrong with me.  And I could finally be free and do what I always wanted to do.  I really want to live in 50ft long and 60ft wide pumpkin!

 

So I moved to Alaska because of how much sunlight was there.  It was perfect to grow enormous pumpkins and maybe grow a pumpkin city!

 

          Once I reached Alaska, I found the patch of land that got the most sun all day. I took good care of my pumpkins.  I made sure to: shelter them from wind and frost, cover them during rain, use shade tents for the summer, don't put the pumpkins in wet or dense soil, and give them a lot of water.  I found well drained soil for the pumpkin. 

 

I filled a peat pot with grow mix, kept the pots watered, never let them dry out.  When my seedlings have the four or five leaves, I set them outdoor in hills about the size of a pitcher's mound, one plant to a hill to get gigantic pumpkins.

 

I protected the seedlings for the first few weeks with plastic covered frames, spaced each hill at least 20 ft apart.  There are more than 100 leaves to each vine.  As I was growing my 300 lbs. pumpkin, each pumpkin’s leaves is responsible four lbs. of weight.  Vines put out roots at every leaf.  I tore out the root of the vine closest to the pumpkin because it will give more room for my pumpkins to grow.  When 2 or 3 fruits reached the size of the softballs, I removed all but the most promising ones.

 

When September came, my pumpkins grew bigger and bigger each day.  One day I chose a perfect pumpkin, carved a hole on the top, two arm holes, and two holes on the bottom. Then I climbed into the pumpkin, slid my arms to the arm holes, closed my eyes, and wished I was a pumpkin.  When I opened my eyes, I was a PUMPKIN!  I was so happy I had finally become my most favorite fruit, a pumpkin!

 

        One week later I saw the biggest pumpkin in my life and thought to myself, this is going to be my pumpkin house.  I worked on my pumpkin house, carving the windows which look like eyes and wide door which look like a smiling face made out of wood.  The last thing I did for my pumpkin house was empty the inside and put things inside that I wished to have, like a king size marshmallow bed and a really big candle. When night came, I lit the candle to shine for all the world to see. Finally I could do whatever I wanted to do, for now I am free.

 

Aeliana is the daughter of Kawissara Ricci and attends Basis School were she is studying Latin, mathematics, science, geography, language arts, music, and classics.  Kawissara and occasionally Aeliana are students at The Learning Center. 

 

Dana Prom Smith and Freddi Steele edit Gardening Etcetera for the Arizona Daily Sun.  Smith emails at stpauls@npgcable.com and blogs at http://highcountrygardener.blogspot.com.