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adventures in gardening
May. 22nd, 2014 05:43 pmWe have a wee container garden in front of our house. Our lovely landscape gardening neighbor has put colors and heights together in each pot to spectacular results, in gratitude for H mending her roof, cleaning her gutters, fixing the lock on her back door, and dozens of other things she couldn't figure out herself and H thought she was silly to hire somebody, when he was standing right here.
Last year and this, I was doubled down over the laptop racing my BB draft to the deadline, and missed the fun of plant-choosing and getting dirt under my fingernails. But neighbor M and my H did a spectacular job again.
And then, trouble in plant paradise--Something was nibbling the leaves. Of Everything, not just some things, herbs and flowers alike. H went into Sammy Winchester mode, researching online, and consulting local garden shops. "Caterpillars," he was told. "Tent caterpillars," someone else said. They gave him a systemic insecticide, but told him it's a contact thing, he has to actually hit the bugs for it to work. He staked out the garden after dark and spotted some mousy-colored, speckled beetles, caught a few specimens, and looked them up online. Vine weavils, was the closest identifier. He took them in to the garden center next day, and the woman there looked them up on her chart. Root weavils! ID was sure. They hide in the soil during the day and come out at night and munch your plants, pretty indescriminately. The dastards reproduce underground, and the larvae chow down on the plant roots. They can arrive in supposedly sterilized potting soil, or in the organic bulk stuff. There's no known targeted treatment for them.
But one expert said, "Nematodes!" I remember my dad having an ongoing battle over nematodes eating the roots of his lawn. But apparently my dad was wrong. Apparently nematodes are prehistoric predators the world over. They've been found on the ocean floor living happily alongside the sulfurous vents where normal life can't survive. They've been found in core samples from millions of years ago taken deep in the polar icecap (probably from before the earth tilted, switching the postition of poles and equator). There are probably nematodes on the moon! So H bought a covered pot of nematodes and put them in our fridge, where they're supposed to be able to survive, dormant, till spring 2015--as long as nobody mistakes the container for the cream cheese.
He's been waiting for the right weather, and I suspect, an auspicious alignment of stars and moon, according to the solunar tables, to release the nematodes on the garden. He's taken to calling them ninjatodes. And of course, I'm imagining an army of tiny toads in black costumes running around, brandishing katanas, and sneaking from pot to pot.
Geez, that was a long buildup. I hope the punchline was worth it. *g* You will, of course, note and credit my avoidance of the "lesser of two weavils" joke.
Last year and this, I was doubled down over the laptop racing my BB draft to the deadline, and missed the fun of plant-choosing and getting dirt under my fingernails. But neighbor M and my H did a spectacular job again.
And then, trouble in plant paradise--Something was nibbling the leaves. Of Everything, not just some things, herbs and flowers alike. H went into Sammy Winchester mode, researching online, and consulting local garden shops. "Caterpillars," he was told. "Tent caterpillars," someone else said. They gave him a systemic insecticide, but told him it's a contact thing, he has to actually hit the bugs for it to work. He staked out the garden after dark and spotted some mousy-colored, speckled beetles, caught a few specimens, and looked them up online. Vine weavils, was the closest identifier. He took them in to the garden center next day, and the woman there looked them up on her chart. Root weavils! ID was sure. They hide in the soil during the day and come out at night and munch your plants, pretty indescriminately. The dastards reproduce underground, and the larvae chow down on the plant roots. They can arrive in supposedly sterilized potting soil, or in the organic bulk stuff. There's no known targeted treatment for them.
But one expert said, "Nematodes!" I remember my dad having an ongoing battle over nematodes eating the roots of his lawn. But apparently my dad was wrong. Apparently nematodes are prehistoric predators the world over. They've been found on the ocean floor living happily alongside the sulfurous vents where normal life can't survive. They've been found in core samples from millions of years ago taken deep in the polar icecap (probably from before the earth tilted, switching the postition of poles and equator). There are probably nematodes on the moon! So H bought a covered pot of nematodes and put them in our fridge, where they're supposed to be able to survive, dormant, till spring 2015--as long as nobody mistakes the container for the cream cheese.
He's been waiting for the right weather, and I suspect, an auspicious alignment of stars and moon, according to the solunar tables, to release the nematodes on the garden. He's taken to calling them ninjatodes. And of course, I'm imagining an army of tiny toads in black costumes running around, brandishing katanas, and sneaking from pot to pot.
Geez, that was a long buildup. I hope the punchline was worth it. *g* You will, of course, note and credit my avoidance of the "lesser of two weavils" joke.
