The Futile Garden
An account of my attempts at growing vegetables, flowers and native plants - some that turned out Ok, and some that didn't.
Thursday, July 24, 2025
Monday, July 21, 2025
Friday, June 20, 2025
Thursday, June 19, 2025
Why They Do This? Part 2
A little over a year ago, I wrote a post about an insect pest whose behavior seems against its self-interest. The unanswered question in that post was "why do cutworms cut down (and therefore kill) the young plants they feed on?"
Today, I'm asking the same question about squash vine borers (Eichlinia cucurbitae).
A squash plant will go from looking like this...
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(Unfortunately, I don't have a "before" picture of the plant in question, so I had to settle for a picture of the one growing in the same hill.) |
...to looking like this in a matter of hours.
I've tried really hard to take care of my squash and pumpkins this year, making the rounds twice a day to check for and remove any squash bugs or squash bug eggs that I find. And as I make my rounds, I try to check for signs of the squash vine borers and their eggs.
I thought I was doing a good job. I hadn't seen any signs of frass coming from the stem on any plants, including the one in the picture.
But when I looked out the window at the garden this afternoon and saw one of the plants wilting much more than would be expected in the afternoon sun, I knew what was causing it. The plant seemed fine this morning.
Obviously, I wasn't doing as well at detecting the pests as I thought.
From past experience, I know that once the plant wilts, it can't be saved. So I just got my box cutter, cut it off at the base, and pulled the rooted part out of the ground.
The damage is always extensive and absolute. And looking inside the stem, one can see why the plant won't survive. The insides are nothing but mush. The poor plant has zero chance once the borers are inside for any length of time.
So again, I find myself asking, "Why they do this?!!!!"
What does the moth benefit by killing the plant it depends on before the plant has even had a chance to produce seeds?
I've harvested seven yellow squash this year, and was looking forward to having more. After today, I'm wondering if the other plants will be wilted later today or tomorrow.
Because squash vine borers have become such a problem for me, I actually planted a second and third round of seeds. The plant that died today was from the second planting. The third ones just came up a couple of days ago. Maybe those plants will be growing in the window of time when the borers aren't active? I hope so.
When the shade gets over the garden this evening, I intend to try to dig down to find the pupa. I expected it to be buried down in the soil under the plant, but didn't see it when I scratched around in the dirt. I probably didn't dig down deep enough, or maybe didn't go out far enough from the plant.
But if I find it, I will very gladly smash it with my boot. And as it sees my boot coming down on it, I hope it is thinking, "Why she do this?!!!"
Update 6/21:
I never did find the chyrsalis of the caterpillar that killed my squash vine. But I found several eggs on the squash yesterday and today.
Those were scraped off and squished between my fingers.
And I noticed several leaves with frass coming out a hole near the top of the stem. I cracked the stems open and found the nasty little caterpillars.
I stomped them with my boot.
Monday, May 26, 2025
The Meadow
I got it in my head that I wanted to turn the west field into a wildflower meadow.
RAF helped me move the fence, and after that was done, I felt quite intimidated.
What I thought was going to be a small meadow seemed overwhelmingly large after the old fence was gone...especially large when I put down my 10'x 16' billboard tarp to start killing out the bermuda grass.
With only a small tarp like that, and taking into account that the grass has to stay covered for at least a year to be sure it's good and dead, I estimated it would take me over 100 years to kill out all of the grass just using my billboard tarp.
Needless to say, I don't think the tarp will last that long - and I certainly know I won't!
Many experts who create native wildflower meadows recommend killing the existing vegetation with herbicide. And while I'm not opposed to all use of herbicide (recall my war on privet) I'd prefer not to use it unless I have no other choice.
So my older sister and her husband run a market garden, and I asked her one day if they had an old silage tarp I could buy. She said they didn't have one to sell, but they had one I could "borrow indefinitely." (I'm still trying to figure out how to make that loan fair to them. I'll think of something.)
I was anxious to get started on the meadow, so late last summer, I decided I'd take a chance that the grass under the billboard tarp had been killed. I dragged it over 9' to the west.
In the "bare" 10' x 16' space where the tarp had originally been, I set out a few native plants that I had started from seed, transplanted some plants that had come up in "the wrong place" and scattered some seeds I had collected or that were given to me:
- 2 - Spotted beebalm (Monarda punctata) grown from seeds I purchased
- 1 - Green Milkweed (Asclepias viridis) grown from seeds I collected from the Carey field
- 4 - Pale Purple Coneflower (Echinacea pallida) grown from seeds I collected locally
- 1 - Tall Thistle (Cirsium altissimum) grown from seeds I collected in the Barber field
- 1 - Wrinkle-leaved goldenrod (Solidago rugosa), divided from a plant I started from seed collected in the Barber field a few years ago
- 1 - Missouri Ironweed (Vernonia missurica) transplanted from the vegetable garden
- 2 - Late Boneset (Eupatorium serotinum) transplanted from the vegetable garden
- 4 - Early Cudweed (Gamochaeta purpurea) transplanted from the vegetable garden and the yard
- 1 - clump of Purple Top grass (Tridens flavus) transplanted from my yard
- 1 - clump of Switchgrass (Panicum virgatum) - at least that's what I believe it was - transplanted from The Flower Bed to hide the Ugly Stump
- 1 - clump of Texas Vervain (Verbena halei) grown from seeds I collected from a plant I rescued from the lawn mower two summers ago.
- 2 - seeds of Whorled Milkweed (Asclepias verticillata) collected locally
- 4 - clumps of Old Field Goldenrod (Solidago nemoralis) grown from seeds collected in the Barber field
- Seeds from Rudbeckia hirta collected from my flowerbed.
- Seeds from Maryland Senna (Senna Marilandica) collected from plants in my flowerbed that were from seeds collected in the Barber field
- Seeds fron a pink Yarrow (Achellea millefolium) collected from the 12-acre field
- Seeds from Purple Lovegrass (Eragrostis spectabilis) collected from the Barber house
- Seeds from Canada Wild Rye (Elymus canadensis) collected from the ditch in front of my house.
- Seeds from Little Bluestem (Schizachyrium scoparium) collected from the Barber house, the Barber field, and from a plant I started from seed collected down on the creek a few years ago.
- Seeds from Maryland Meadow Beauty (Rhexia mariana) that my younger sister collected from her field
- Seeds from Purple coneflower (Echinacea purpurea) I collected from my flowerbed
- Seeds from Rocket Larkspur (Consolida ajacis) I collected from my flowerbed (non-native)
- Seeds from Wild Bergamot (Monarda fistulosa) I collected from my flowerbed (original seeds were purchased from everwilde.com)
- Other miscellaneous unidentified seeds I had collected on my walk through the fields
In the early spring of this year, I picked up the silage tarp from my sister. The tarp had been cut into three smaller pieces, which was very good, because they are pretty heavy when they're all in one piece. After battling the strong winds that kept blowing the tarp around, I ended up putting it in a "U" shape around the billboard tarp, weighted down with t-posts and some old wheels and tires.
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Purple Lovegrass |
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Little Bluestem |
I have planted more little bluestem seeds in cell trays, so I am hopeful that I'll have more grasses to set out late this summer.
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Plains Coreopsis? |
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Spiderwort |
Friday, May 23, 2025
2025 - the year of the Ozark Chinquapin
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Five nuts from cross 36xx, received on 12/14/2024 |
- I planted one across the road behind the telephone building. When I checked on it yesterday, something had tried digging it up, but the chicken wire around the paper towel roll held, and the tree and nut seem to be intact.
- A second one went to my older sister, but something dug it up the first night it was planted out, so it didn't make it.
- A third one went to my younger sister, and so far as I know, it is still alive.
- The last one was planted near the 103x and 10x1 trees in my yard and seems to be hanging on even though it looked pretty tiny starting out.
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Five nuts from cross CT-1, received on 2/6/2025. |
- I planted one of those nuts in the cage where the mole tunneled through (it has come up and seems to be growing well).
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Little chinquapin tree from cross CT-1. |
- I gave one to my older sister, and while it did come up, it may have gotten too hot so we're not sure if it will survive.
- I gave another to my younger sister and although it took a while to come up, I think she said it finally did.
- I planted another one across the road behind the phone building, and planted the last one at the edge of the woods behind the barn. Neither of those have come up.
Wednesday, May 21, 2025
Tuesday, April 22, 2025
Disaster strikes the backyard orchard
April 2025 Sunrise
Monday, March 31, 2025
The Waking Month
The Waiting Month finally ended. The yard and garden were quiet.
When my little sister said maybe she could come take a tour, there was really nothing much to see. "Just a patch of hope here, and a patch of wishes there," I told her.
But as the days slowly got longer and the temperatures warmer, things began to wake up from the winter sleep.
By March 7, the cereal rye/hairy vetch cover crop had grown a couple of inches.
One of the catkins on the American Hazelnut opened and released little puffs of pollen every time the wind breathed on it.
Thursday, March 20, 2025
March 2025 sunrise - spring equinox
Saturday, February 22, 2025
Wednesday, February 19, 2025
Winter's not done just yet
Over the past few years, I've informally gauged how bad of a winter we've had by making a note of when the first daffodil blooms.
- 2022 - February 8
- 2023 - February 4
- 2024 - February 7