Read my article in Our State Magazine about Organic Pest Control: http://www.ourstate.com/organic-gardening-and-pest-control/
My corner of North Carolina is experiencing a long, wet, cool Spring. Frequent rain showers and sometimes below-freezing night temperatures slowed my planting for this season and this past Tuesday, May 21st, was the first day I dared to take the first tomato plants to the farm. All my tomato plants are heirlooms, started from seed at my home and I treat them as the “babies” they are from seed to seedling. With only a chance of afternoon showers and a dry weekend forecast, it looked as if Tuesday would be a good day to begin the transplanting process. Plus, it was a favorable planting day, according to the lunar calendar.
Luckily, I had help from my son, Clark, (www.heirloomrestaurantnc.com) and we quickly set to work in the areas designated for this year’s tomato plants. Clark and I dug holes and placed a cocktail in each: about 1 tablespoon of Epsom salts, for a dose of magnesium, a good pinch of organic bone meal for phosphorus, a small handful of eggshells for calcium and a spade of compost for a wealth of nutrients. (Note: I saved eggshells since last year’s planting season and they are all from happy, local chickens. After a quick rinse, I allow them to dry and then crush them and save them in recycled containers with lids.) With all ingredients in the hole, I work them together with my hands, just as you might knead bread dough. Adding soil to the cocktail, I then place the tomato plant as deeply as possible and fill in garden soil until the plant’s leaves are just above the ground level. Clark and I placed thick layers of newspaper around each plant and then added a wire cage to contain the growing plant. Finally, I fold duct tape (I only use ShurTape, manufactured in NC!) around one of the wires and use a permanent marker to label the enclosed plant. Tomato planting is time-consuming labor, but Clark and I proudly looked over the thirty-two new farm residents and planned for Wednesday’s planting.
On Wednesday, our work seemed to go a bit faster, probably because threatening clouds moved in as the afternoon progressed. We completed the row we began yesterday, bringing our total to forty-six and started a new one. Clark dug 28 holes and worked as quickly as possible to add the cocktail mixture. The wind picked up and newspapers began to fly across the fields, costing us valuable minutes as we ran to retrieve them. When the rain started, I scurried to the truck and loaded all our tools, etc., in the back as Clark finished placing newspapers around the last tomatoes in the row. We jumped into the truck, drenched to the skin, just as a powerful thunderstorm unleashed its fury. Rain dripped steadily from my hat and I quickly removed it to stop the inside shower. As we drove away, straining our eyes to see through the windshield that rapidly moving wipers could not clear, we crossed our fingers and hoped our plants would be spared the worst of the storm’s wrath.
Ten miles away, at our home, the storm continued to rage all through the evening. At one point, I saw small hailstones falling on my deck and I prayed the tomato plants would not be beaten by an assault. Thursday dawned cloudy and downed tree limbs and debris were reminders of the storm. By afternoon, the skies cleared and Clark and I decided to drive to the farm and inspect the damage.
Donning my knee-high rubber boots, I made my way through mud that was so deep and thick, it threatened to pull me to the ground. Not since 2008 has Heart & Sole Gardens been so mired in mud or had so much standing water. Last year’s spring flood, which caused us to lose our pea crop, some tomato plants and a lot of potatoes, did not compare to this deluge. Compounding the problem is a drainage ditch, constructed by our state workers, that borders our property. DOT workers spent hours last summer working to trench the ditch in an attempt to resolve water runoff issues caused by a highway, but since they failed to use tools that would have helped them direct the water flow in the correct direction, it now stands, stagnant and pondlike, making a perfect breeding ground for mosquitoes. While Clark and I struggled to walk through the deep mud, these pests descended upon us. According to the state official who inspected the work, eventually enough silt will collect in this “pond” and cause the water to flow toward a small creek. After the effects of this storm, I doubt that “correction” will happen in my lifetime. Meanwhile, our farm is forced to deal with the effects of a poorly executed job.
When I finally came close enough to look for the newly planted tomatoes, I had to pause to mourn those completely submerged in water. Not a single leaf was visible in the murky water. Saddened, I left to cut asparagus and thankfully, that perennial bed is in an area that, so far, has not been flooded. Today’s bright sunshine and brisk breezes will help to dry the farm, but I am afraid we will lose many of the seventy-four babies we so carefully planted; therefore, I am planning to replace lost plants with others from the greenhouse.
Fingers are crossed for heirloom tomatoes this summer.