September 29th, 2010 by Marc Opperman

Back a few months ago I lashed together some bamboo posts to form a trellis for a passion vine at the end of my porch. (My older entry is here). The idea was to create a privacy barrier on that end of the house to shield us from the neighbors. Our porch sits almost higher than their fence, so it always felt a little open back there.

Well, no more:

…at least until it freezes. And then I get to grow my barrier all over again next Spring.

bamboo, passion vine, trellis

September 28th, 2010 by Marc Opperman

I emailed the makers of the Leonard Soil Knife, and two of their employees emailed me back Monday morning with many apologies. Apparently the tool I got was part of a bad batch involving poorly-tempered steel (and a lot of broken blades). They have since solved the production issue, and upgraded the tool with a few extra features. Having a job based in production, I know these things can and do happen.

They have mailed me a new one. All they wanted in return was a picture of the broken one. As a bonus, it’s the upgraded model!

I’m happy I’ll have one of these. I think in Texas soil it’ll be an indispensable wrangler of roots, rocks and rowdy weeds.

a. m. leonard, customer service, leonard, soil knife, tool

September 26th, 2010 by Marc Opperman

UPDATE: They sent me a new one. Details here.

Did a lightning round of weeding today, and was hoping my shiny new Leonard Soil Knife would be a big help. Turns out it broke in the first 10 minutes of its useful life:

I wasn’t even trying to pry any rocks. I was yanking lyre-leaf salvia and echinacea seedlings in damp, relatively loose soil.

They appear to have a generous lifetime return policy. An email has been dispatched to their customer service. Stay tuned.

broken, leonard soil knife, tool, weeding

September 24th, 2010 by Marc Opperman

When August heat and drought decimated a lot of my garden, and with jalapeño peppers that never developed any heat, serranos that never set fruit, and tomatoes that had no taste, were plagued by bugs, and eventually were squashed by a tree, my first season as a serious vegetable gardener was a less than stellar one.

However, one bright spot emerged in it all, one that bore fruit so amazing as to make up for all the rest of the vegetable and insect shenanigans. And I didn’t even plant it:

At first I had no idea what it was. I thought it was a squash, with the most likely candidate being a cucumber or zucchini (neither of which I particularly like). But I’d seen a zucchini growing in another yard nearby, and the leaves and flowers matched, so I was convinced I had squash.

However, one day I was poking about, weeding around the vine, and I stumbled on a fully-developed melon under the leaves. I was stoked! It was something so completely unexpected, and a melon I actually like. Without realizing it, too, I had picked it by lifting the vine. Oops! I smelled the rind, and it did not yet smell very much like a melon, so I assumed it wasn’t ready. I let it rest 3 or 4 days in the house before slicing it open.

Suffice it to say I have never had a better cantaloupe. So juicy, so incredibly sweet, and so colorful. By comparison, the melons I’ve had from grocery stores barely register as edible, let alone tasty.

I have two more coming now, too:

The best thing is, I didn’t intentionally plant this. It’s growing in the middle of a bed full of native wildflowers and grasses, and very close to our deck. However, this might be part of its reason for existence and why the rodentia haven’t claimed it. Did I toss some stray seeds off the deck? Does the proximity of the deck help? After all, one of my cats likes to sleep under a bench about a foot from the vine. Not that she would lift a claw to chase a squirrel or even register as an intimidation to a raccoon. But at least the squirrels don’t know that.

I’ve since placed the bigger of the two melons on an overturned clay saucer to keep it away from the damp ground. That also seems to help keep all the pillbugs off, too. And the extra moisture from a close-by sprinkler head probably kept the vine alive through the drought.

Whatever the case, I’m already salivating at the melons that should be ready very soon, and I hope I can duplicate this accident… these volunteers for next year.

cantaloupe, fruit, melon, vine

September 22nd, 2010 by Marc Opperman

I’m really happy the weather has seemingly made a turn. With it, my willingness to claim I even have a yard/garden has returned, and the urge to hibernate has receded.

This weekend I had a very productive time of it in the yard. The usual mowing, weeding, trimming, etc. But some of my effort was motivated by the city’s bulky brush collection day in our neighborhood. I wanted to get the dead chinese tallow out of the yard for good.

Another small project involved a few pieces of 50s-era pine I got from my friend Grog. He’s been remodeling his own kitchen (yes, he did most of his own work), and he tore out some old cabinets. Those had some very serviceable 1×12 pine boards that immediately looked to me like good material for a raised planter box:

Here’s what the box looked like after it was put in place. The box is in the middle of the photo, and on the lower portion, I attached a 12″-piece I built out of some old shipping palettes. I piled a bunch of shredded grass/oak leaves I had saved in them so they could compost down.

It was nice to have a couple cuties visit, too! And, in the background, you can see the box with my bush beans. I’ve not gotten tons of green beans yet, but as of tonight I’ve had two solid handfuls in the past half-week… enough for two people to have them as a side at dinner. And many more are on the way!

I don’t see a lot of mantises in the yard (though I have at least seen them consistently), so was a little thrilled to see this mama staking out my compost pitchfork:

Lots of other good visitors, blooming things and volunteers – the rain has been a huge blessing. But more on that later.