Midnight in the garden of...

Potatoes.

So remember recently when I said the bugs and slugs had decimated my potato starts?  Well, maybe not so much.

Husband and I had both seen this black kitty, and it would just sneak over for a snack, and then leave.  I decided it was Midnight.  (Was going to name it Toothless, but it has yellow, not green, eyes.  Yes, I am weird. And a nerd. And picky, too.)

I was watering the garden, and looked up, to see Midnight staring at me.  Which stunned me slightly, as I was using a water hose.  Most cats do not like them.  He didn't seem to mind, but just kept quietly watching me. (Yeah, he.  I can tell, because he keeps letting everyone know with a nose know that he was there, by relieving himself on the canister we feed cat food from... And the wall by the door.  YEEESH, even.)

So, I try talking softly, and not moving to him.  I do sit down.  He opens his eyes, just a bit, then relaxes again.  I watch, as he stretches out, and rolls.

On my potato bed.  The ones that are the biggest.  That were trying to come back some.  He then pushed at a potato start with his nose, and pushed it around, like a kid playing toy cars.  Yay.

I watched, and between the flopping on of, wiggling around on, and pushing to and fro, the potatoes were looking heavily bedraggled. Then Buzz showed up, just as I'd gotten within 6 or so feet of Midnight.

Turns out, Buzz doesn't care for Midnight.  Oddly, Midnight is a little spooky guy with her.  She growled, and he decided that it was time to leave.  I had to distract her, or she looked like she was going to do the cat version of punching his lights out.  Her place, her rules, HE GOES!

Huh. Okay.

So, the bugs and slugs aren't helping, but they might just be a side effect of being mangled by a cat.

I have planted carrots on two of the bales now.  I have them covered with bird netting.

Cat netting?

We shall see what transpires in the near future...

Weeds, oh, brother, do I have weeds...

The weather was to be terrific, so said the forecast.  I had planned for it, and I was ready to clean out the garden...  Then it froze.  Huh.  Not so great for my wanting to do anything outside.  I cleaned house instead.

The next day, it was so much warmer.  After the light frost in the morning, it was pleasant.  So, I forged forward with grand plans of attacking the- Oh, Holy Crap! That's a lot of weeds!  I stared at the raised bed, that I could not see the overwintered plants in, because of the weeds and grasses... EEEK!

Ok, one thing at a time.  Get wheelbarrow.  Check.  Gloves? Check.  Weed popper? Check.  Knife?  Check.  Off to the races! 

I proceed to pull weeds.  And pull weeds, and PULL WEEDS!  Filled the wheelbarrow twice with one raised bed.  The chickens were waiting with bated breath for me, I dump the load, and it's tossed like a salad, for the seeds they want.

Grasses, probably could have had a fair hay bale, from all the crud I had in there.  BUT, pull, pull, pull, got it down to the soil again, except for some tiny greenery, that shall be hoed and raked away later. I was able to get rid of everything but the curly dock weed... 

That monster was not leaving without a fight.  It had all winter to get nice and huge.  I dug, picked, pulled, and was even trying my menacing glare, when Husband walked up.  I mentioned that the dock weed was going to be a bear to remove. 

He shrugged, just a second, I have the shovel back here. 

I watched as he scooped out the weed like it was a hand in a glove, toss it in my wheelbarrow, and then repeat with 2 others he saw.

I was grateful, I would have been there for, well, a LONG time, trying to remove the crud.  And even with the shovel, I doubt I could have removed it as thoroughly as he did.  But, can I say honestly that I really wish I wasn't envious of him being able to DO that?  I would probably jump up and down several times before the shovel would move.  No leg strength...  Sigh. 

But now I have the big stuff cleaned out, and I can start adding compost and new soil, and get things ready for planting, soon. 

Oh.  And the potatoes I planted?  Remember I mentioned there was a freeze?  Well, I had waited to where I remembered the last frost being, and Mother Nature LAUGHED!  Anyway, it burned the tops of the tall ones.  They all had been attacked by some little round bug, and slugs.  Loose translation, I have to replant them.  Ah, the joys of gardening.

Snarl...

Potatoes, boil 'em, mash 'em, put 'em in a bale...

I put out my first veggie plants in the garden.

The poor garden needs a lot of work, but about 2 or so weeks ago, Husband helped me by putting 3 bales of hay, (you should use straw, but these bales are last of the season, I had them, and are not exactly pristine for feed...) out on one of the raised beds.  I am trying an experiment.  I watered and fertilized the bales, letting them break down and rot.  I then put a dab of soil on the top, and put in the potato starts, eyes from several that I had put back.  Then I covered the parts I hadn't planted with garden fabric, so that HOPEFULLY the grasses and weeds might not be taller than the plants.  Also, it holds water a bit better that way. 

I have found that raising potatoes is neat.  BUT... trying to do the digging, in a raised bed is... creative.  If the potatoes end up near the edge, I have nearly pulled a board off with the fork, trying to dislodge it.  My soil is not pristine, so occasionally, I pull up what looks to be a nice potato.  It turns out to be a nice ROCK.  Pbbt.  And there is the 'slice it in half as you dig' part, that can be really frustrating. 

I hope against hope that the bales will allow me to have clean, rock free, and non sliced potatoes...  I have two bales ready with potato starts, I am trying to decide if I should put more in the last bale I have there, or try other root veggies.  Carrots? Beets?  I bet I can find something!!

Hmmm...