June 9
Spring finally gave way to summer—or so it appears. We haven’t had frost for days, and National Weather Service says we won’t have any for at least a week. I started tomatoes and peppers in peat pots in April. Now it’s warm enough to put them in the ground. Sarah and I will plant cucumbers, lettuce, and parsley, too. Meanwhile, the cabbages, snow peas, radishes, coriander, and onions that we planted back in April begin to show promise.
We plant ten four-foot-square raised beds this year—two more than last year. Four of them grow spring and fall crops, and six we plant with the summer crops.
Each year, I build two more beds and fill them with store-bought soil and peat moss, with a healthy dose of composted goat manure. The raised beds improve drainage, and the soil mix is far better than the heavy, alkaline, iron-bound clay that occurs here naturally.
Two years ago, we started planting fruit trees in raised beds too, because no matter how much we amended the soil, the trees didn't survive the winter if we planted them in the ground. I built a huge raised bed a foot tall and filled it with topsoil. Then I added a second layer of raised bed and topsoil, leaving a step about three feet wide all the way around. I planted raspberries and gooseberries around the outside, and apple and cherry trees in the middle. They’re doing much better this time. We may even get our first crop of apples and cherries next year. With the warm weather, the sagebrush and greasewood start to come out of hibernation. Pigweed sprouts, and Russian thistle, and bindweed, and tansy mustard and purple mustard and prickly onion. Sarah's allergies have been bothering her for weeks now. But soon enough, the long summer drought will begin, and the native perennials will die off for the year.
The jackrabbits have come out on force, too: a huge spring crop preparing to feast on all the new growth. As much as I hate to, I take out my .22 rifle, patrol our land, and shoot at the rabbits. I scare more than I hit. But if I don’t make the effort, the rabbits will continue to multiply until they’ve eaten every green plant in the valley. Then what would the goats and chickens and antelope eat? Crows and ravens take advantage of my work. At least the rabbits don’t go to waste.
Each year, I build two more beds and fill them with store-bought soil and peat moss, with a healthy dose of composted goat manure. The raised beds improve drainage, and the soil mix is far better than the heavy, alkaline, iron-bound clay that occurs here naturally.
Two years ago, we started planting fruit trees in raised beds too, because no matter how much we amended the soil, the trees didn't survive the winter if we planted them in the ground. I built a huge raised bed a foot tall and filled it with topsoil. Then I added a second layer of raised bed and topsoil, leaving a step about three feet wide all the way around. I planted raspberries and gooseberries around the outside, and apple and cherry trees in the middle. They’re doing much better this time. We may even get our first crop of apples and cherries next year. With the warm weather, the sagebrush and greasewood start to come out of hibernation. Pigweed sprouts, and Russian thistle, and bindweed, and tansy mustard and purple mustard and prickly onion. Sarah's allergies have been bothering her for weeks now. But soon enough, the long summer drought will begin, and the native perennials will die off for the year.
The jackrabbits have come out on force, too: a huge spring crop preparing to feast on all the new growth. As much as I hate to, I take out my .22 rifle, patrol our land, and shoot at the rabbits. I scare more than I hit. But if I don’t make the effort, the rabbits will continue to multiply until they’ve eaten every green plant in the valley. Then what would the goats and chickens and antelope eat? Crows and ravens take advantage of my work. At least the rabbits don’t go to waste.
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