image from GardenSeed's blog |
'Nasturtiums' by the fantastic Derick Burleson |
image from GardenSeed's blog |
'Nasturtiums' by the fantastic Derick Burleson |
If it weren't prohibited without an almost-impossible-to-obtain permit from the Drug Enforcement Agency, now would also be the time to sow your industrial hemp crop.
Industrial hemp is considered an environmentally friendly crop and is produced in many countries, including Canada, Spain, Ireland, England, France, and Japan, with the largest producer being China. It requires very few pesticides, no herbicides, and its nutrient demand on the soil is similar to that of wheat and less than corn. The time from sowing to harvesting is just three to four months.
Hemp can produce 25 tons of dry matter per hectare per year, whereas corn only produces about 7 tons per hectare per year. Hemp thus poses the opportunity to provide a more efficient source for fuel production, as well as bypassing the food versus fuel concerns surrounding the production of corn based ethanol, as it is the hemp seeds that have potential as a food crop, and not the cellulose rich, woody stem.
Hemp fibers can be used to manufacture textiles, including clothes and even shoes, as well as biodegradable plastics, construction materials, and paper. In addition to being a valuable fiber crop, industrial hemp also has immense potential as a food crop. The seeds are high in Omega 3 fatty acids, which is grossly lacking in the typical American diet. Hemp oil, high protein seed cakes, and even a milk product that higher in iron than any other type of milk (soy, almond, cow, goat, etc), can all be made from hemp seeds. In 2008 the Journal of Analytical Toxicology found no traceable amounts of THC in hemp food products available in the marketplace.
Hemp paper is more durable and twice as recyclable as paper made from virgin wood pulp. One acre of hemp produces as much cellulose as 4.1 acres of trees and takes only 3-4 months from sowing to harvest, instead of the 20 years it takes for trees to mature.
The Declaration of Independence was drafted on hemp paper, our country's constitution was printed on hemp paper, and the patriotic literature penned by Thomas Paine that helped stoke the fires of our American Revolution were printed on hemp paper.
Benjamin Franklin started the first hemp paper mill, and President George Washington placed duties on hemp that encouraged its domestic production. Both President Washington and Thomas Jefferson grew hemp on their plantations. Thomas Jefferson, a vehement supporter of the independent American farmer, put his opinion of hemp into no uncertain terms when he wrote that hemp “...is of first necessity to the commerce and marine, in other words to the wealth and protection of the country."
The first American flag, sewed by Betsy Ross, was made of hemp canvas. Additionally, the word “canvas” itself is derived from the Latin word cannapaceus, which means “made of hemp.”
Current legislation regulating the domestic production of industrial hemp is underpinned and perpetuated by the lay person's misinformation about the chemical structure of the plant and the persistent misconception that industrial hemp is synonymous with its contentious cousin, marijuana.
In 1970, the Controlled Substances Act recognized the industrial hemp plant as marijuana, unfairly maligning a very valuable industrial crop. This is a blatant failure to distinguish between the very different and distinct Cannabis strains that produce industrial hemp and the Cannabis varieties from which the medical and recreational drugs are made.
The psychoactive ingredient in Cannabis, known as THC, is present in amounts that range from 3% to 20% in plants cultivated for their flowers and leaves, from which is derived the drug used for medicinal and recreational purposes. However, THC is present only in minute amounts in industrial hemp plants. The maximum legal level in European hemp cultivation is 0.3%. That's 10 times less THC than even the weakest of the medical or recreational strains and 67 times less than the more concentrated varieties.
Even lower in the psychoactive cannabinoid THC is what's known colloquially as “ditchweed” and officially as “feral cannabis.” This plant has THC percentages as low as .05% and is a remnant from World War II, when the U.S. government actually subsidized almost 40,000 acres of hemp production to aid the war effort. The U.S. Department of Agriculture even released a video titled “Hemp for Victory”, which taught farmers how to cultivate and harvest hemp. After Japan cut off this country's supply of hemp and coarse fibers, domestic production was an integral aspect of the war effort, as those fibers were desperately needed to manufacture such products as rope, canvas, and netting that were absolutely vital to the navy.
Escapee volunteer plants derived from that 40,000 acres are now a rampant roadside presence, especially in the Midwest. Midwestern youth have been trying and failing to get anything other than a headache from smoking ditchweed for decades. The DEA now spends upwards of $13 million a year to eradicate this harmless, previously government sanctioned plant from roadsides and ditches all over the country, especially in the Midwest, despite it having absolutely no psychoactive, and thus no recreational or black market value, whatsoever.
This is a crop that has huge potential to be beneficial to the ailing American farmer. If farmers were unhindered from the senseless regulation of this crop, in addition to generating agricultural revenue, the opening of industrial hemp production would present enormous opportunity for the development of entrepreneurial value-added business ventures, from specialty niche-market prepared foods to utilitarian fiber products like rope and canvas. Those upstart business could create jobs and tax revenues desperately needed in this time of financial strife.
The first step towards a more rational approach to this unjustly maligned crop is to end the misinformation that leads people to believe that medical and recreational marijuana plants are one and the same with industrial hemp, which is absolutely, unequivocally untrue. The debate over the legalization of the Cannabis varieties from which marijuana is derived—for any use—should not taint the many advantages of this valuable industrial plant.
The poisonous, wild nightshade plant, known as Belladonna—an unwelcome squatter in many local gardens—is cousin to the potato, tomato, and eggplant. Hemp is no more similar to marijuana than Belladonna is to the Mortgage Lifter tomato on your BLT or the mashed potatoes on your dinner plate.
Vote Hemp is a national, single-issue, non-profit organization dedicated to the acceptance of and free market for low-THC industrial hemp
Our last average frost date for this USDA hardiness zone 7 growing area is April 15. Don't let that fool you, though. More important than your zone is your micro-climate, which can differ significantly from regional averages. Our farm is the last open area at the back of a hollow and is the highest part of the hollow's bottomland. In the evenings you can feel the cool air rolling down the hills and flowing down the slight elevation drop along the path of the creek. What this means for us is that our lows are consistently 7 to 10 degrees below the forecasted low.
That might not sound like much if you're not a gardener, but the difference between a low of 32 and 25 is the difference between a light frost that pretty much any spring crop can tolerate and a freeze that will damage leaves and potentially kill seedlings. In the late fall, that's the difference between tomatoes on the vine for another week and rushing to harvest the last of the unripe fruit. In the summer that's the difference between an uncomfortably warm night up on the plateau and it being cool enough to open the windows and turn off the air conditioner down in the holler.
One of the most rewarding and wonderful parts of gardening is the level of connection you develop with the land. This applies to people gardening in containers on their little concrete patios, too. They too must pay attention to where the sun sets and rises, how the sun moves North and South throughout the season, if it's been dry, wet, hot, or cold, and what bugs are breeding and eating.
Working in the garden we encounter little brown garden snakes, big black snakes, toads, firefly larvae, garden spiders and their hoards of babies, ants, frogs, and bees to name a few. I have never been bitten by the garden spiders or harassed by the snakes. I am grateful to see those predators in the garden because a healthy population of predators is an indicator of a healthy and balanced ecosystem. Toads can eat up to 1,000 bugs in one day, so I am always thrilled to find them nestled in the mulch.
We know there's a large flock of turkeys that frequents the forested part of the property. We've seen them alight in the tops of the trees on the ridge in a kerfuffle of noise and breaking branches. We hear them gobbling to each other in the evenings. We have a woodpecker that frequents the dying Box Elder on the bank of the creek, and sometimes there's a big heron who comes to gorge on the fish, tadpoles, and crawdads that get trapped in pools as our creek branch dries up through the summer.
When storm fronts move through the area, if you pay attention to the sensation of the wind on your skin, you can feel the cool and warm air mingling. I swear I felt the first fall breeze last year, and a welcomed breeze it was. I've been dreading the possibility of last month's unrelenting heat remaining unrelenting for the next five months, but now I have no idea what to expect. I asked a gardening friend if she thought we would even be able to get a good cabbage and broccoli harvest this spring, and her response was, “This week, or last week?”
After an intense bout with the Cabbageworms immediately upon transplanting our cabbage and broccoli into the garden, we are finally down to only finding two or three green worms a day. We had some casualties, but the survivors are now growing enthusiastically. It's somewhat of a mystery, why the bugs eat one plant and leave another. Maybe the victim was a plant whose roots got mangled during pricking out or transplanting, or maybe it was just a bad seed. In any case, we're filling in the holes with lettuce transplants.
Nature abhors mono-cultures. That's one reason why you'll just never achieve a weedless corn patch. The pigweed, bindweed, and lamb's quarter find gardens simply irresistible. The good thing is you can actually eat lamb's quarter as a potherb, and at least the bindweed has pretty blue flowers since it's in the morning glory family. Just try to pull it out before it goes to seed.
We have found that applying a layer several inches thick of mulch around our plants does a fantastic job smothering out the weeds. We use old hay, which has weed seeds in it. Some gardeners prefer not to use old hay as mulch because of those seeds, but since it seems like you end up with weeds in your garden no matter what you do here in the land of eight foot tall iron weed, for us the benefits outweigh the cost.
The old hay mulch also retains moisture and shades the surface of the soil, which supports earthworm activity in the upper layer of the soil. When we use a hand shovel to dig a hole for transplanting, it's not uncommon for us to encounter a dozen earthworms in a four inch hole. Those earthworms are improving the tilth of our heavy clay soil by adding organic matter, as well as providing us with nitrogen, phosphorus, sulphur, potassium, magnesium, and most importantly for our farm specifically, calcium. All this they do gleefully pro bono, as long as we shade them from sun and provide them a little protection from the frost. They also provide our resident garden toads with a protein rich snack when they get tired of hopping after bugs.
Our buzzing metropolis has also provided us with enough lady beetles to get our aphid population completely under control, and we never had a problem with having too few pollinators to pollinate our squash and cucumbers.
Spending time in the garden in quiet contemplation and rapt observation, I can scarcely help being overcome by the interconnectedness of all life on this planet. When our farm dog plops down in the sun and lets her head fall back to look at the sky, I can't help but wonder if she's sharing my elation.
Is anyone else wondering what happened to spring? The arugula and some mustards we planted came right up and promptly bolted, which tells us they think it's been way too hot. Our creek branch has already right up, leaving some slimy green algae where the cool, clear water was just a week ago. I've seen our resident banded water snake sunning itself on a rocky outcropping, and twice I've almost stepped on the big black snake that lives around the garden.
Last year that black snake got tangled in some netting we were using as a deer deterrent in the garden. The netting was cutting into the snake's skin, so we very carefully had to snip each little strand of plastic to free the snake. The netting left scars, so it's easy to identify that snake. We're now very conscious to not leave materials in the garden that might be harmful to our non-human neighbors.
Black snakes eat rodents, and we've been told that they'll keep poisonous snakes out of their territory. Black snakes are totally harmless and nonvenomous. If you find that you have a black snake sharing your yard with you, please don't kill it. They pose no threat to you, your family, or your pets, and they are far better mousers than most fat house cats.
The bugs are certainly out in summer numbers. I've already been bitten by ticks and mosquitoes. I refer to the hour and a half before the sun goes down as “bug thirty.” If I've got long sleeves and pants on, they bite my face and ears.
We've already had an outbreak of Imported Cabbageworms. That started a couple weeks ago, so we're fairly sure they just never died since the winter was so mild. After daily hand pickings and spraying with soap every other day, I think we've almost got a handle on them.
Another bug that pretty much anyone who has ever tried to grow a plant outside, whether ornamental or edible, is familiar with is the aphid, or plant lice. These teeny tiny little sap suckers come in all colors—green, white, black, and red. They congregate in masses on the underside of leaves and where leaves and stems join. They feed on plant juices by piercing the stem or leaf and sucking out the moisture. They excrete excess moisture as a sticky “dew,” which ants love. That's why you frequently find aphids and ants together.
Each variety of aphid produces both winged and wingless generations. The first generation of the spring hatch from eggs laid in the fall. This first generation consists entirely of female aphids. These females give birth to live young without being fertilized by males. As their numbers increase and the masses of aphids begin to crowd each other, a generation of winged females is produced, and these take flight to spread their siege. Those winged females produce many more generations of wingless females. As their population density increases and the temperature begins to drop later in the season, a generation of true females and true males is produced. These are the aphids that will mate and produce eggs to be hatched next spring.
Since aphids reproduce throughout the growing season, they are a garden pest that pose a constant challenge. Fortunately they are fairly easy to deal with, and gardeners get a hand from the aphid's many natural predators. Lady beetles are avid aphid eaters, as are lacewings and some flies. Lady beetles lay hard, very tiny yellow eggs on the underside of leaves. If you find them, leave them there to increase the population of your allies. It's worth looking up what the lady beetle larvae looks like, as it's not even remotely similar to the shiny black and red-to-orange small beetles we're all familiar with.
If you find an aphid infestation on your plants, as long as you get to work quickly, you probably won't sustain major crop losses. Hitting the aphids with a strong jet of water effectively knocks them off the plants. If you already have an appreciable number of the little suckers, knock them off with a soapy spray and then rinse the plant with fresh water. You can also add garlic and onion to your spray to deter further feasting. Keep up with your spraying for a couple days to get their numbers under control, and then check on your plants regularly.
Plants with curly leaves that provide the aphids places to hide can be more challenging to reclaim from the scourge. Be sure you check every nook and cranny. According to Rodale's Color Handbook of Garden Insects, if all the descendants of a single aphid lived and reproduced, there would be over 5 billion aphids by the end of summer.
Aphids are common pests in greenhouses too, so keep an eye out for them on your tomato and pepper seedlings. You can discourage aphid damage to curcurbits like squash and cucumbers by placing aluminum foil on the soil around the base of the plants.
Keep your eye out for those abominable aphids so they don't get the upper hand on your garden this growing season!
If you're hankering for a juicy Boston butt, spicy chicken wings, fresh ground whole grain breads, or delectable baked delicacies you can still swing by the farmers' market behind Ace Hardware in Smithville and fill your recycled, reusable bag on Saturday mornings. God willing and creek don't rise, you'll be able to start buying tomato plants and ornamentals this week!
If you started your own seeds you might already have your own tomato babies. With this warm weather and grass growing bonanza you might be tempted to go ahead and put those tomatoes in the ground. Go ahead. You could even try a couple squash seeds. You might be the first lucky gardener to have tomatoes and squash this year!
There's a local colloquialism that says, “If you don't have to plant at least twice, you're not planting early enough.” Me, personally--I don't care what the weather is doing; I won't plant my tomatoes outside until May. And since it thundered in February, I'm keeping my guard up for a frost in May. The tomatoes and especially the squash would not appreciate getting caught outside uncovered for a cold snap.
Kale, on the other hand, shakes off a light frost and keeps growing like mad. If the only kale you've ever eaten was mushy and dull or tough and bitter, you have to give fresh kale a try. Even the bunches of kale in the grocery store seem pallid and bland compared to the taste and texture of kale fresh from your garden, patio, or local farm.
You can plant it now in the garden or even in a container. Keep an eye out for white to yellowish butterflies with a spot on the wings, yellow eggs, and green caterpillars. That's the Imported Cabbageworm, and it's horrible. If you only have a few plants it's conceivable to keep up by hand picking the caterpillars every night for a couple weeks. If you have too many plants for handpicking, you can try out an insecticidal soap.
As is the case with all fresh produce, not including storage crops like potatoes and winter squash, the quality of the kale degrades as soon as the leaf is separated from the plant. To take maximum advantage of the health benefits of kale and other fresh greens, eat as fresh as you can.
If you're harvesting your own kale, rinse it in cold water, shake dry, and then store in a bag in the refrigerator. Treat bunches of greens you buy from the market the same, and they'll keep a week.
One variety commonly grown here is 'Siberian'. We grew 'Siberian' last year. I didn't like that its leaves were poky and thought the flavor was only okay, but I must mention that it lasted through the cabbageworm siege and dry summer.
There is a huge variety of types of kale. Some have smooth edges, others are deeply serrated. Some have smooth leaves, some have bumpy leaves. You can choose from flat leaves, curled leaves, dark green, light green, redish, purple, and every combination you can think off. Picked fresh and tender the mature leaves only need to be lightly cooked, while the small leaves can be added to salads as baby greens.
Our favorite is a kale of many names: Tuscan, Dinosaur, Black Palm Cabbage, and Lacinato are a few of its aliases. It is a lush dark green, flat leafed, smooth edged variety that laughs off light frosts by getting sweeter, tolerates the summer heat to flourish again in the cooler fall weather, and lies perfectly flat on a cookie sheet when I'm baking kale chips.
Baking kale chips is the ultimate route to winning over new kale eaters. No kidding, it's as easy as this: Lightly toss the washed and dried leaves with a little olive oil. They shouldn't be drenched, just lightly dressed. Arranged the leaves in a single layer on a cookie sheet and season with a very small amount of sea salt and pepper. If you're feeling fancy, sprinkle on a little freshly grated Parmesan cheese. Bake in a preheated 350º oven for 7-12 minutes, depending on your oven. You want the leaves crispy and dried but only barely browned. Before trying it, you can't conceive of how delicious this easy recipe really is.
Kale is a nutritional powerhouse. It contains vitamins K, A, and C, manganese, and fiber, in addition to antioxidant and anti-inflammatory properties. Its nutritional profile also includes high concentrations of carotenoids and flavonoids which have powerful cancer preventative properties.
Researcher William Li has an excellent presentation on ted.com entitled, “Can We Eat to Starve Cancer?” in which he demonstrates that the anti-angiogenesis properties of vegetables rival prescription cancer fighting drugs.
Angiogenesis is the formation of blood vessels. The development of a tumor is fueled by angiogenesis—blood vessel growth—to provide its own blood supply. Without its own blood supply, the tumor is starved of fuel and cannot grow. This is a very specific and precise demonstration of why including fresh produce in your diet is so beneficial to your health.
You can sneak kale into every meal so that you're getting as much of that good stuff into your body as possible. For breakfast you could try a frittata or omlette that includes finely chopped kale, herbs, and cheese or just poached eggs over a bed of lightly sautéed kale. For lunch you could use kale instead of lettuce on your sandwich. For dinner, throw some baby kale in your salad and dress it with a homemade vinaigrette with extra virgin olive oil. You could lightly sauté some kale-- chop the greens into half inch strips and the stems into quarter inch chunks, toss together in a pan with olive oil over medium-high heat, add a little water or stock, and cook for about 5 minutes. Season with a little salt and pepper. The greens will still be bright green and tender. Combine the sautéed kale with a chunky pasta, like penne, and some Italian sausage and a little Parmesan cheese.