Being able to see the naked bones of the garden like that, though, can be quite an eye-opener – kind of like standing nude in front of the mirror and admitting you really should start working out (as in, something’s gotta change here). Course, we don’t notice it so much in the summer when everything is clothed in flowers. The worst part was, though, I realized it was not just boring; it was conservatively conventional, words that are almost blasphemy to my creative being.

Ah yes! Clean, neat rectangles. I DO love them! The garlic in this plot will be easy to take care of, if you like hard work. Back plots are planted with green manures. A very organized way of growing garlic on a small commercial scale. (And did I mention, very labor intensive).

Ok. I admit. My garden is very structured. Rows within rectangles within squares. Orderly. Clean. Neat. Ultimately linear. I stress over weeds. They disrupt the order.  A lot of people really like that sort of thing. It’s organized.

Other parts of my life? Not so much.

I was considered a bit radical back in the 70s when I experimented with the French Intensive methods promoted by early Organic Gardening magazines. I had recently returned from a stint as a foreign exchange student in Paris, so I thought I was pretty legit. My neighbors, though, wondered whether I had buried my dogs out there in the raised beds.

It might seem a bit odd, then, that someone who has long subscribed to the motto, “Question Authority,” never really questioned conventional wisdom when it came to gardening. Like canning peaches and making strawberry jam, certain things are passed down through generations, and they seem good just the way they are. Real good, in fact.

There is usually a good reason that things are done “the way they always have been.” Efficiency and convenience are two adjectives that come to mind: rows the width of a tiller, tractor, mower, or wheelbarrow. Ease of watering, weeding, and harvest. Knowing where things are might be important (ahm).

Don't worry. This is just me going crazy. Thinking in circles and squares. And maybe a few triangles.

On this particular windy day that was shaking my belief foundations, however, I came to the “ah-ha!” moment when I realized that nothing in nature grows in rows. Like, duh. It’s more of an organized chaos. Now ThatI can relate to!

Looking at the weathered skeletons of the previous year’s vegetables interspersed with clumps of grass, it struck me that the difference between nature, a farm, and a garden is not just one of order and scale.

I also realized that my little backyard universe fell into the “none-of-the-above” category. Too small for a real farm; too structured to really be called a garden, which I think of as an artistic retreat expressed in a riot of colorful flowers (Tell me, why are a lot of colors always in a riot?).

Sure, we could call it a “hobby farm,” a term that I dislike because it sounds like a person doesn’t take it very seriously – and I am very serious about growing 24 varieties of garlic! But it’s basically too small for a tractor and it’s a lot of work with just a shovel. I have a lot of mixed feelings about a tiller, because it violently massacres worms, which are my friends, so I rarely use one.

Ok – so maybe the more appropriate term would be a “veggie garden,” which, in my experience, is traditionally a place of toil and trouble. These are tightly controlled spaces where people focus on succession planning and efficiency evaluations. It’s all about timing. Conditioning. Nurturing. Weeding weeding weeding. Harvesting. Processing. These words all sound like work to me, but at least you are (sometimes) rewarded for the effort.

And on the other extreme is nature — grand scale, everything grows, no work involved. The plants grow every which-way – up, down, around, and through. They support one another in their diversity. Rarely do you see a lot of insect damage. Slugs on the trail, sure, but not under every leaf. No one is out there with a rake, a hose, and a bag of bone meal, and everything is prolific without them.

Hmm. What is wrong with this picture? Or should I say, “right?”

I might grow a lot of different things, and I’ve always been a big believer in companion planting, but I realized with a certain amount of consternation that my garden was really just a series of little monocultures.

Some of this is necessitated by the garlic operation, a crop of around 1000 bulbs, more or less, depending on the year, that is rotated around six 25-square-foot plots. The rotation is important to prevent disease. In the off-years, I alternate between building the soil with green manures and growing an assortment of veggie crops for friends, family, and strangers, depending on who is willing to take the zucchini. Yes, it’s bigger than the average garden, but not quite up there with the farming league. A lot of work with a hoe and a shovel; not enough to warrant firing up a tractor.

I was contemplating this lifestyle when I came across Gaia’s Garden, Second Edition by Toby Hemenway. It was an “Ah Ha!” moment for me. A complete garden-changer. Seriously. This book completely altered my way of thinking about the way I grow things and my relationship to plants (this link provides a long review). I still refer to it again and again.

The short synopsis is that it is about looking at your garden as an ecosystem, not a series of compartments; it’s about working with nature to optimize that system.

I have previously written about the folly of my attempt to patrol and control the borders of my garden, a militaristic viewpoint at best, where I was constantly at war with the weeds around me – and believe me, I was surrounded.

Through this book, I realized that weeds are not the enemy. They are, in fact, a resource. Allow some to thrive, and they will provide innumerable benefits. Cut some back, and they will still provide innumerable benefits. It’s all good.

Garden path to?

It was in this Kumbaya moment that I decided to try a little horticultural experiment to transform our back acre into something much more than a garlic merry-go-round. Life – including plant life – travels through this timezone in circles, after all, not rectangles. Paths may appear straight-forward, but that doesn’t mean that they are.

Maybe it’s an age thing. It is hard to write about gardening without also writing about life; there are so many correlations. Gardens are always changing – through the seasons, over the years, according to vision, design, or whatever you are willing (or not willing) to let go of. There are infinite possibilities, certainly too many to contemplate in one lifetime. (As in, “Yes, Mother, I know, ‘It’s all about choices’.”)

In case you doubted that I really have a pink flamingo in my back yard, this one wishes she were in Florida.

Perhaps it was time to get smarter about the gardening. I have a tendency to make things overly complicated (or so I’ve been told), and according to Nature, I have been working waaay too hard at this. After all, I am officially a grandmother now, 5 times over. I never thought I would ever write those words, much less contemplate traveling across the country in a travel trailer and staking up a pink flamingo in a park in Florida. Ha! Actually, I’m joking. I have a pink flamingo right here at home – why would I need another in FL?

But as the grains slip more quickly through the hourglass, we think about what else we might want to do, aside from watching them form those cool little pyramids in the bottom. I mean, there might come a time when I might need to phase out the garlic if there is no one else to carry on the legacy (I know, I know – those are strong words!). And maybe there is something else I might like to leave behind – like, for instance – a jungle.

This temperate jungle (aka Olympic Rainforest) is just down the road

It’s not that far-fetched. We have a jungle, also known as the Olympic Rainforest, just a couple hour drive from here. Course, we don’t get the rain here in the Olympic rainshadow of Sequim (classified as semi-desert) that they get in the Twilight zone of Forks – but with a little planning and a lot of mulch, a food forest, as opposed to a rainforest, is very much a possibility. I like the idea of sitting in the middle of my very own patch of blueberries and eating them until I am blue in the face. Now That is my idea of a retreat!

And with that idea, thus began my journey into the food forest, one that I am creating as I go. I am a year into it and adding on with every season.  The sharp borders between garden, farm, and sanctuary are becoming blurred every step of the way.

Garlic Maze - not really so crazy as it seems. Probably just as much work, to tell you the truth. That's what growing over 1000 bulbs of garlic is. It can still be fun, though.

Did you wonder what wild hair motivated me to plant my garlic in such crazy circles? Rest assured, there is a method to my madness. And it just keeps getting crazier – and at the same time, so much saner. I might have to start wearing purple. I kind of like getting old and crazy. Maybe I need a dozen cats. And a hot-air balloon. At the very least, a pair of red dancing shoes with sparkles on them.

And a jungle to dance in. Yes.

Stay tuned.

The second photo is of the Russian Giants, a Purple Stripe variety that has done quite well for us and has been high in demand in recent years. Although shorter than the Chinese Pink at this point, it is still looking good. We have a little international competition going on in our own backyard, which just goes to show why you have to grow a little bit of everything, because every kind has its strengths and unique qualities. The love of garlic unites us all. And the love of grandchildren. Which is why I wouldn’t really trade my first-born child – surely, she knows that.

The problem, though, is that it is still mid-February, which means we are sure to get lots of wet weather, frost, and a good freeze or two. A couple years ago, we even got snow on April 1. So anything can and will happen. Strong winds are a sure bet.

What does this mean for early garlic? If you mulched your garlic, it’s a fine line now between when to leave it on for protection and when to pull it back to let things air out. You might have noticed, I did not mulch this last winter. Two years ago, I had a serious crop failure from too much mulch combined with a long, cold, very wet spring. (I thought I was suppressing weeds – instead, I was planting them.)

Keep in mind, though – garlics are like our ethnic ancestors (in my case, Italian) – a hardworking, hardy bunch, determined to survive. They can handle the freezes, sleet, snow, and rain we get at this time of year. The wind might bend them over sideways, but once it lets up, they reach back up for the sun. But if they are engulfed for months at a time in a wet blanket that fosters a lot of mold, they will succumb. Trust me.

My garlic plants usually have yellow tips on the leaves later in the season, and I think the extreme weather changes at this time of year is a large factor in that. However, if you provide drainage (raised beds!), and if they can breathe (key word, here), they will pull through the vagaries of weather just fine.

So hang in there – garlic is on its way! (And hang on to your children – and grandchildren, too, if you are so blessed.)

BULBILS. The word rolls around the tongue like a mouthful of marbles. They are the exotic blooms at the end of the scapes of hardneck garlic varieties that produce little seedlets.

Bulbils, though, are a thing of their own. They are not a true flower. And all those little seedlets inside, which can be anywhere from the size of a grain of rice to a chickpea, are not true seeds. They are actually miniature cloves, clones of the parent plant. Some bulbils might have over 100 of them; others only half a dozen. And the beauty is that each has the potential to grow into a full-size garlic bulb, although it might take a couple of years to get there. They are something you can easily stash here, there, and everywhere in the garden (after all, one can never have too much garlic!), so if you think you’ve run out of room to plant more garlic, think again. Of course, if you follow conventional wisdom to cut your scapes, you might not have the chance to appreciate how unique they are.

I have a new respect for bulbils. Last year, when I suspected mold beneath the soil, I let them grow. “If all else fails,” I thought, “at least I’ll be able to save some of my stock.” It was good thinking. The bulbils never touch soil.

Planting in tubs allows you to keep the weeds under control.

Direct-seeded bulbils grew great!

Wow! First year from the little seedlets!

So I tried a little experiment with them last year and planted them in flower pots and tubs, mainly because I thought surely they would get lost in my grassy patch I try to call a garden – which would have been true. I cannot say my experiment was a success, however. I had the tubs up against a fence at the far side of the property, not close by where I would see them, and when tragedy hit our family late last April, I pretty much up and left and forgot all about them. They never got watered, the grass grew up around them, my husband later weed-whacked the heck out of everything (“It didn’t look like anything was in there,” he said, which was true), and they pretty much shriveled up and died. Or so I thought.

Would you believe – there are some sprouts coming out of the tubs again! Amazing! They (or at least some of them) are still alive! Garlic is tougher than you’d think.

I didn’t plant them all in tubs, though. My Juan de Fuca Wonder bulbils, a Rocambole variety, produce rather large seedlets, which I stuck in neat rows at the end of one of my regular garlic beds. This proved to be much more successful. I didn’t plant them very deep (they are small, after all), nor very far apart, so 150 of them took up very little space. To be honest, I wasn’t expecting much – maybe some “rounds” (i.e., without clove definition) the first year that I would replant in the fall to produce full-size bulbs the following year.

Well, talk about prolific! These bulbils were the biggest surprise of my entire garlic harvest! I wish I had spaced them further apart. Many of them were over 2” in diameter – as large as many of the bulbs of my main crop of Juan de Fuca Wonders. They even formed scapes and cloves of their very own. I was so proud of them!

Seedlets that start out as rice-grain size will take an extra season or two to get up there – but I have to say, I am impressed with the Juan de Fuca Wonder’s ability to jump right up with the best of them.

The nice thing about planting bulbils is that not only is it the absolutely least expensive way to increase your crop, but there are so many things you can do with them.

For starters:

1. Plant them now in your regular beds; thin them like baby onions; harvest in the spring like scallions. It’s that time of year when most garlic bulbs are past their prime and the fresh, delicate taste of garlic is SUCH a treat!
2. Do as #1 above, but give them more time in the soil, harvest them in the summer and replant in the fall for bigger bulbs the following year. Plant large ones 2-4” apart; plant smaller ones like radishes.
3. Do as #2 above, but don’t replant them. Eat them. (You know you want to.)
4. Plant them in flower pots outside your door where you can keep an eye on them and then do #2 or #3 or both.
5. Plant them in flower pots and grow inside on a kitchen windowsill. Clip the “grass” throughout the winter & use fresh like chives.
6. Plant them in the spring – not fall – and clip like chives, grow & harvest like scallions, harvest in summer and replant in fall, or harvest in summer and consume in great quantities. In other words, do any or all of the above.
7. Don’t plant them. Just eat them. Pickle them. Throw them in stir-fries, sauces, dressings. Cooked or raw, it’s all good (BTW – on some, the skins might be a little fibrous and a little tedious to peel – eat them anyway – fiber is good for you).

So – How many seedlets in a bulbil? On average, here is what I have counted:

Porcelains:

German Extra Hardy: 193 seedlets (9 grams)
Rosewood: 175 seedlets (7 grams)

Purple Stripes:

Brown Tempest: 130 seedlets (6 grams)
Metechi: 112 seedlets (8 grams)
Persian Star: 100 seedlets (2.5 grams)
Russian Giant Purple Stripe: 165 seedlets (12 grams)
Siberian: 80 seedlets (10 grams)

Rocamboles:

Juan de Fuca Wonder: 9 seedlets, (7 grams)
Killarney Red: 8 seedlets (12 grams)

Ready to give scapes a try? Yes, I DO have all of the above for sale! Approximately 1 bulbil per packet for just $3.00.

Contact me and let me know what you’d like. (Cool gift idea, too, is it not?)

Thanks! And Happy Planting!

****

(P.S. Thank you for your patience while I’m still trying to figure out this shopping cart system. At this point, the easiest way to order is to either send me an email through the Contact page, or if you’re in the neighborhood, stop by!)

Question for you – how much are you planting this year? Do you know? (Do you even care?)

Silly question. OF COURSE WE CARE! We are passionate about garlic.

But what I am referring to are the many ways of planning the garlic garden. For example, does your garlic garden plan look like THIS???

I should hope not. I mean, who in their right mind would make a garden plan like THAT! Ahm.

Yeah – so that’s why I made a handy-dandy garlic planner in Excel – plug in the numbers, and PRESTO – instant planting plan for you. Check out different scenarios to see what works best in your situation – all in a flash. No senseless scribbles and cross-outs. And what’s more, I am willing to SHARE this amazing tool with all my fans out there who are willing to sign up on a mailing list, which entitles you to other cool stuff down the road. (Confession here: this is my first time trying to make files available for download through cyberspace, so I hope it works.)

For those of you who really don’t have time for all my hype, just
CLICK HERE to grab the Barbolian Fields Garlic Planting Planner right now.
I’m cool with that. Time is of the essence. Many people already have their garlic in the ground. Others are still trying to figure out how and where they’re going to plant it. I usually shoot for planting right around Halloween, give or take a couple of weeks either way.

Ok – for those of you patient souls out there who want to know more of the what & why of the Planner, read on.

Here’s the deal. When it comes to planting garlic, some folks just plant whatever fits in the space they have and eat the rest. That’s a good way. They worry a bit about the advice of “plant the biggest cloves” and wonder what that means, considering they’ve purchased “medium-sized” bulbs and have a bunch of little cloves that they’d just as soon stick in the ground than go through the hassle of peeling and eating. Then again, the cloves are so good, they just might eat them all unless they put some in the ground…and soon.

Others, though, like me, say, “I planted 1300 bulbs last year; this year I’m amping up to 1500.” Although that’s not really what I’m planting – I just threw those numbers out there.

I am one of those nerdy types who go through great extremes to measure each and every bulb, plot the averages on graphs, and try to figure out what works best from year to year, knowing full well that any statistician worth her/his salt would shoot holes through my analysis, based on the obvious fact that I, too, do not always plant the “biggest cloves” – whatever that means – which throws all the averages off right from the get-go.

Still, I try to analyze what works and use that analysis to determine how much to plant of what.

Then there are those who are BIG into growing garlic who go by poundage … “Yeah, I’m doing about 500 lbs this year.”

I’m not sure they worry about stats or even go through the trouble to measure anything. After awhile, you can just tell by looking at ‘em what’s “small,” “medium,” and in the “OMG- that is ONE FINE BULB!” category, and usually it’s a crew making those assessments.

But SOME people – me included – need to know EXACTLY how much garlic we’re going to plant, because we only have SO MUCH space, and quite frankly, every inch counts.

It’s just me and my shovel out there. No big tractors. No crews (although sometimes I get a little help from my friends).

And if you’re paying premium price for top-notch quality seed stock – and let’s be honest here – organic garlic seed stock ain’t cheap (we can save all the reasons why for another post) – you want to make the most of your investment.

I mean, if you’re just going to eat the stuff (in large quantities, possibly), maybe you don’t want to pay top dollar for that which becomes a fond memory of a special epicurean evening – but maybe you DO want to make the most of what might compound into a 5- to 10-fold return on your investment, depending on variety, in next year’s crop. Even if you’re not into it for the business, saving money in these economic times and ending up with a big basketful of garlic to boot (or booty, as the case may be) – is always a good thing.

We garlic growers are a group of great visionaries, what can I say.

So back to our original question: How much are you going to plant?

Planting garlic is, after all, simple math.

If you have a row xx feet long and xx feet wide, if you space your garlic 6” apart down a row and 6” apart across the row – or maybe 8” apart across and 8” down, or maybe 6” across and 8” down, or maybe crammed in tightly at 3” or 4” – and depending on the width of the bed, you have room for xx number of rows, and then you leave room for the sides of the bed, assuming it is raised a few inches to allow better drainage – which, depending on the number of rows across the bed leaves you how many “row spaces” between garlic rows (and how big are those spaces again?), and then you need to factor in the space between beds – 1.5 feet? Enough to allow a small tiller? Enough for a wheelbarrow? 2.5 feet?

Dang. For being simple backyard farmers, we sure are getting complicated here.

AH! But never fear! My Garlic Planting Planner provides a simple solution for you.

I have been making spreadsheet formulas for years – but THIS year, I really nailed it down.

All YOU have to do is plug in your measurements or other variables (be sure to follow the notes!) – and you will be able to see instantly (because this is the power of spreadsheets!) what you have room for and what not – and WHAT’S MORE – you can tweak it to see how different scenarios play out according to your specific specifications. Which is what we all have, to one degree or another.

Fer instance…

Maybe you need a little more room on the side of the beds. Maybe you need more space between beds. Maybe you want to see how much difference in total yield it will make if you space them 5” – 6” – 7” – 8” … you get the idea.

And believe me – I get it – you could figure this out on your own, but you don’t really want to.

What it comes down to is this:

1. Making the most of what you have
2. Spending less time scratching your head
3. Having more time to Get Down, Get Dirty, Get OUT There, and Plant!

So how much does it cost to access this handy-dandy planning tool?

Answer: I’ll let you decide. Give it a try. If you find it useful, it would be absolutely awesome if you hit the PayPal Donate button & bought me a cup of coffee. (I could really use one about now.) You could also send a check, money order, or even cold hard cash to:

But it’s not always about money. Receiving heartfelt thanks is also very gratifying. Trading is always cool, too. And when it gets down to it, I just appreciate the opportunity to help people out there who are passionate, as I am, about growing (and eating) exotic varieties of garlic. I appreciate the opportunity to share whatever wisdom (or folly) I’ve gained in the process. It’s a mutual thing. We help each other.

So – don’t scroll up -
HERE’S THAT LINK again to get your very own copy of the Barbolian Fields Garlic Planting Planner.
Even if you aren’t familiar with Excel – rest assured – it’s easy – and I provide directions every step of the way.

Thank You, again, for your support, in whatever form it takes,

And best of luck to you in all your garlic-growing endeavors!

~Blythe

Our garlic harvest was a full month later than in some years, but yes – the garlic is in and hanging in the shed – AND THE GOOD NEWS IS: IT LOOKS FANTASTIC!

The bad news is: We have only limited quantities for sale this year while we rebuild our stock.

The quick list (Head to the Garlic Varieties page for full descriptions):

 Despite limited quantities, we are very excited about this year’s crop, especially after last year’s failure.

It was a hard lesson for me. I salvaged what I could of my garlic and my pride, planted the best of what I had, did a little horse-trading on the side, and also did a lot of debating on whether I was cut out for this business.

My doubts were thrown to the compost pile when we started harvesting, only to find one beautiful bulb after another. We gently lifted them from the ground from beneath the bulb (never yanking on the stem, which can break it loose from the bulb and invite the dreaded molds and nefarious insects). (Many thanks to my niece and nephew for their help!) We laid them carefully on the ground, one by one, and later tied them in small bundles to hang and cure. I am always amazed when people roughly handle garlic. I cringe when I see people in grocery stores tossing bulbs around like tennis balls. Garlic, especially when it is first harvested, is tender and easily bruised. Treat it gently and with kindness. Give it the respect it deserves.

We are keeping our fingers crossed during the curing process, but so far, so good. I recently learned the Earth Dharma Farm in Maine did not fare so well – coastal humidity provided just-right conditions for mold, a story we know too well. Our hearts go out to them as they salvage what they can and try to rebuild, much like we did this last year.

And speaking of rebuilding: harvest time is also the time to be planning on what to put in the ground this fall for the 2012 crop, and by default, also means it’s time for that annual debate on whether to scale up, cut back, or stay the same, a debate that has delayed this announcement. (More for me means less for you. Sorry, but that’s the way it is.) It takes years (or a large cash investment) to build up a quantity of seed stock, so the decision is an important one. Once the garlic obsession takes hold, however, it’s near impossible to stop. Fair warning. There are just so many varieties to try. Over the years, I’m getting a little better at determining just what is able to survive the abuse in my particular garden plot on the planet, but I am always open to new and interesting varieties.

One option if you’re looking for an inexpensive way to size up your stock is to plant the bulblets from the scapes – if you thought to save them, that is. They are hard to find, because most people subscribe to the conventional wisdom that mandates cutting them off so the plant will put more energy into growing bigger bulbs. More about that in a future post, but suffice to say, we are offering scapes for sale this year, in addition to the regular bulbs (Asian, Porcelains, Purple Stripes, and Rocamboles, i.e., all hardneck varieties). (More about reasons NOT to cut your scapes and growing garlic from tiny bulblets coming soon.)

Future posts will also look at what worked and what didn’t. (You, too, can learn from my foibles.)

For now, though, if you are interested in purchasing, write me an email. It’s a busy time of year, but I WILL get back to you as soon as I can. We will be shipping after the bulbs have had a chance to cure (about mid-September) unless you beg for them sooner. Prices are listed here. Drop-ins at our homestead are welcome; give me a call first. I look forward to hearing from you!

One final serious note:

Those who know me and follow our blog know that the last few months have been difficult at best, dealing with family tragedies, health issues, losses, and other chaotic events, any one of which would have been enough to deal with in a year. Piled up at once, they only served to make me even more appreciative of how fortunate we are – because it’s true – no matter how bad it gets, you never have to look far to find someone worse off. Thanksgiving is today and every day, and I just want to take this opportunity to say how thankful we are for all the supportive friends who have come forward, some of whom I have never even met. Right now, I feel like a mole who has been in a dark hole for the last few months and who, in clawing his way to the surface of the earth, breaks through, squints in the blinding light, and says, “Whoaaa…it’s a big world out there!” And let me tell ya, the sunshine feels pretty good.

Thank you, friends. Life is good.

The turning points for me were two-fold. The first was when I was harvesting my garlic last summer, only to discover that the mulch I had layered around the bulbs to help suppress weeds and conserve moisture was probably responsible for the bulbs rotting in the ground. Anything that takes 9 months of tender loving care to bring to maturity becomes akin to offspring, and it is particularly heartbreaking to see them “go bad.” It set me to re-evaluating what I was trying to accomplish – in the garden, in my life – where it was that I went terribly wrong – one of those midlife crises that occur with alarming frequency throughout your life, not just at the moving midpoint. Could I keep doing this?

Here is the thing with growing garlic:

• It takes up more space than you realize, because you have to factor in at least a 4-year rotation cycle (we do 6);
• It’s a labor-intensive crop – garlic does not compete well with weeds;
• There is a narrow harvest window – too early, you get puny bulbs – too late, your bulbs split open and won’t last;
• Harvest time is right in the middle of summer, 4th of July onward, which is a busy time when you might want to be doing other things;
• A fair amount of space is required for proper curing – without good airflow, they’ll mold, meaning you could go through all that work to grow good bulbs, only to blow everything at the end;
• If you want to make money at it – which is difficult if you factor in labor costs – you have to market & sell the stuff – you can’t just give it away to everyone who is overjoyed to try a few samples, and
• Contrary to popular belief, garlic won’t buy you love.

Don’t get me wrong – I love garlic and I love growing it – and the sight of row upon row of garlic standing tall in the field is a beautiful sight indeed – but you have to recognize its limitations as well as the limitations it imposes.

The second turning point was returning from a trip in late November to find everything under a foot of snow, and realizing with horror that flocks of birds could have died in my absence, along with thousands – yes, thousands – of worms. You might think the two are related, and in some ways, they are. Fortunately, other family members kept our little bird friends alive, but I was bluntly faced with the fact that I was a birdseed addict. I couldn’t stop buying the stuff. More and more birds kept coming. The more I bought, the more they came. They made me feel happy inside, but the increasing demand couldn’t be ignored. It was starting to add up. Question: did I need them to make me feel good about myself, believing I was making their lives easier? Or was I just making them ever more dependent on me, and in the process, chaining myself to a winter of watching them out the window? I was trading my freedom for this amusement.

And as for the lowly worms? Highly esteemed they are at the Barbolian Fields vermiculture headquarters. They have increased in numbers to where now they take up 6 penthouses, which have to be situated outside – somewhat protected by the elements, but not entirely. Fortunately, their instincts took over, their metabolisms slowed below that of the lowly slug (if I may be so judgmental), they retreated to the center of the bins, and I am happy to report they survived. But it could have been a much different story.

The eye-opening moment was when I realized how things I do can also limit what I can do. They have been my own choices. And once those choices become responsibilities, I can’t necessarily just quit.

“A truly creative person rids him or herself of all self-imposed limitations,” said Gerald Jampolsky. And quicker than you can say, “Who the heck is Gerald Jampolsky?”, let me just say he’s an American psychiatrist.

I can’t say that I’ve read his book, The “Oh Shit” Factor: Waste Management for Our Minds, but I would probably relate to anyone who wrote an entire book under such a title. He talks a lot about forgiveness and unconditional love. I can relate to that, too.

What does this have to do with gardening?

It set me on a quest for a better way. Or at least a different way. Because it’s not a turning point unless you take a step in a different direction. The first step is being honest with yourself. Admitting you have a problem.

(Here we go again. “Welcome, Blythe.”)

Because as much as I talk about trying to live a sustainable lifestyle, the truth is, what I’m doing is hardly sustainable.

So, what is sustainability, anyway? It’s the buzzword of the day. It’s “outside the box.” It’s Organic. It’s Green. It is used so frequently, it has lost its influence – and maybe it no longer reflects its original intention.

I can tell you what sustainability is not:

• The work I do in the garden is not sustainable – it’s pure craziness.
• Making birds rely on my handouts is neither healthy nor sustainable.
• My attempt to capture rainwater is a start, true, but a mere fraction of what could be captured with a bigger system – and it does not solve the problem of how to deal with the drought we get in the summer.
• The wind rips through here nearly every day – yet I have never managed to capture it. It’s this invisible ever-present force that can only be seen by what it moves. It seems out of reach to me – uncontrollable – slipping through my fingers every time – a lost opportunity.

Getting down helps you to look up. Looking in helps you to look out.

If I am to rid myself of self-imposed limitations, I need to get creative.

What if instead of buying seed and feeding “my” birds (ha!) – I free them to be what they are – birds – not pets – and assist them by planting shrubs that provide more natural habitat, fruits throughout the year, and shelter from the wind and cold. (Ok, I will probably always feed the birds a few treats – but it doesn’t need to be their sole source of food.)

What if I reconsidered the whole garlic operation? Too much work? Maybe I could trade help with weeding for shares of garlic – or maybe I could make it a “U-Pick Garlic” farm and let people harvest and cure their own. We could even turn it into an agro-tourism event with music & food …. Hmmm, getting a little ahead of myself on that one – but Sequim already has a zillion people coming through this little town to swoon in fields of lavender – why not attract the salsa crowd? I think I’m on to something here.

Take a break already!

And instead of planting rows and rows of garlic in a single plot, how about mixing them up with other plants throughout the garden where their legendary protective qualities can be used to better advantage? For that matter, why not mix up the whole garden? Monoculture beds are convenient, but perhaps they just create an obvious target for insects. Why not intersperse plants that attract bees, repel insects, add nutrients, and provide shade, mulch, and other benefits?

The truth is, my garden is already a chaotic mess. Grass and morning glory are everywhere. I may have excuses as to why it got so far out of control – lack of boundaries and all that – but life happens – and if you are a slave to your garden, it’s hardly sustainable unless you just enjoy that kind of martyrdom.  But what if I recognized that chaos is ok – in fact, it’s to be expected – maybe even encouraged? Maybe I need to relax a little bit. Neatness counts, but psychotic control and continued sense of failure will not enrich my life. Let it go while I take time to smell the roses. It’s ok to be less than perfect.

And lastly – while I’m on this vent – my garden is boring. Surprising, but true. Sure, certain areas stand out, but for the most part, it’s just a series of traditional squares and rows and rectangles. A failed attempt at orderliness. What if I did something to make the garden more fun? Why not make more little secret hideaways? Why not make it a place where people are encouraged to wander? Why not make it a place where sometimes you just have to stop dead in your tracks because the world around you is just so incredibly gorgeous that you have to pinch yourself with the realization of how lucky you are to be here?

I am talking about bridging the gap between a “garden” and a “small farm.” We always want to compartmentalize things. “Oh she has a beautiful garden” conjures up images of massive flowers and winding pathways leading to some focal point, like a garden gate, statue, or pond. Whereas, “Oh she has a nice little farm” conjures up rows of veggies and a small tractor tilling the ground between them. Efficient. Orderly.

What if we blur these distinctions?

There is still time to change. It is still garden planning season.

It is time to break some rules.

Not real rules, mind you. Self-imposed-limitation-type rules. Things we hold to be self-evident. It is time to make things more sustainable in terms of both lifestyle and the environment. Time to get creative.

In the process, we have this great opportunity to re-think what sustainability really means. How can we realistically apply our ethics and belief systems to our own backyards? Because if we are to preserve this planet for future generations, each of us needs to do what we can, and we all have to start somewhere. We can’t wait for the Monsantos of the world to come around to our way of thinking. We each need to do our part to contribute to social consciousness. It is senseless to keep growing excess amounts of produce that gets thrown away when it could be given to people in need (and if your community doesn’t have a community kitchen of some sort, it’s time to start one). We need to look at how to reduce waste, conserve resources, reuse & recycle, learn about xeriscaping, native plants, and many more things I have yet to discover. We need to change our attitudes toward the need for perfection – perfect lawns, roses, hedges, and rows that require so many additives, resources, and energy to make them so perfect that they become unreal – like skinny models of the plant world. We have to address issues at multiple levels from multiple angles. We need to support one another, buy local, and know where our food comes from. And we need to teach our children.

Yes, it takes a village. It can start in a garden. God’s original plan.

Questions for you:

• Is your garden limiting or expanding your world?
• Is it a place of peace and tranquility or a hard labor camp?
• Is it an extension of your self?
• Does it reflect your ethics?
• Does it make you stand in awe at the beauty and wonder of the world we live in?
• Is it fun?
• And what can you do to make it more of all those things that enrich – and liberate – your life?

One day, we go from this...

…and this...

…to this (yikes!)

("Garlic? Are you still there?" "Yes!" come the muffled replies)

…and even to this! No, there is nothing wrong with your monitor. This is an official picture of a garlic bed in a snowstorm.

HA HA HA! Says Mother Nature!
(Just proving that the moment we anticipate spring, we are bluntly told it is still winter!)

Mother knows best, I say.

The temperatures are predicted to drop into the teens tomorrow and Saturday. If so, this blanket of snow will be just the thing the garlic and other plants need for survival.

So many little birds! I couldn't capture them all! (picture taken through a window)

The little backyard birds have flocked in great numbers to the bird feeder. We created little makeshift shelters to keep the ground seed from getting completely buried and, based on a simple recipe suggested by a birdwatching friend, filled up the log feeders with a lard-oatmeal mix (recipe below). Much easier than the ideas I posted in my previous post, New Year’s for the Birds – and easier to smear into the feeder. Definitely a big hit with the feathered friends.

Also – don’t forget to fill up a water bowl – they SO appreciate a little thawed-out water!

High-Energy Mix for Birds:
1/2 part lard (not suet), melted
1/2 part quick oats
Mix together.
How simple does it get? I added a little peanut butter for good measure.

Brrrr! Pruning apple trees can wait!

And the good thing is, I can take a break from pruning the apple trees!

Dare I say? Tropical days ahead!

“The more one gardens, the more one learns; and the more one learns, the more one realizes how little one knows.”  ~Vita Sackville-West

Status report: Mid-February and the garlic is up and growing strong!

I am doing a few things differently this year than last. Most notably: NO mulch. No mulch whatsoever.

The Great Mulch Debate

Don’t get me wrong. Mulch can be a good thing. But it has its time and place. Around the garlic, as we witnessed in last year’s disaster, is NOT always good.

It might be ok for where you are. If you get Siberian-like winters that have been hammering the Great Lakes states and the Northeast, I would think mulch would be very protective, if not essential. Here in the Pacific Northwest, though, we have a different challenge: down-pouring rains, alternating freezes, and temperatures that get low, but not low enough to kill insects or hardy weeds. In fact, the insects just hunker down; the weeds never sleep.

Ok, so hay might not have been the best choice for mulch last year – sometimes availability influences that decision – but any mulch around here is going to hold in the cold and damp, and any garlic bulb beneath the mulch is going to have a losing battle with molds and fungi. That is a lesson I have learned the hard way (unfortunately) more than once!

I keep debating this whole mulch thing because I really like the concept of no-till gardening methods. I have been a fan of Ruth Stout since the early 70s (The Ruth Stout No-Work Garden Book: Secrets of the Famous Year-Round Mulch Method). My recent go-to advisor, Steve Solomon (Growing Vegetables West of the Cascades: The Complete Guide to Organic Gardening – my copy is tattered with use), however, strongly warns against such practices that worked well for Ruth in Connecticut, but spell catastrophe in our climate. The mulch provides a cozy haven for pill bugs, earwigs, and slugs – all of which are quite prolific in my garden, but don’t bother the garlic much. (Note to self: plant garlic next to things that ARE attacked by those pests!)

My friends may wonder why, then, against all logic, am I converting our backyard into a recycling center for cardboard, newspaper, and bark. You can’t believe how much I hate grass, but I’ll save that for another post.

The truth is, after all these years, I am changing my approach to gardening. Gardening is, after all, a learn-as-you-grow game, and hopefully you get to keep growing a very long time!

Still, failure hurts. I am still reeling from last year. Course, it was a rough year. We got hit with nearly 17 inches of rain in October and November alone, which was nearly 70% of the rainfall for the entire year. Many areas reported their second wettest November on record. Wind gusts frequently topped 40 mph. Temperatures hit record lows in early December, with no snowfall for protection. They finally climbed up to 60 in April, but never hit 70 until June. We had a hot dry spell in July and August when temperatures topped 85, but even so, the average maximum temperature never even hit 70 all year long.

2011, however, is a new year, a new story. We’ve only had about half as much rain (8.5″) since October. We haven’t had near the flooding. Yes, we got hit with some heavy wet snow that paralyzed Seattle and knocked the power out of a lot of communities, but overall, it’s been tropical compared to what the Midwest and Northeast have been dealing with.

The garlic bulbs have endured steady fluctuations in freezing and thawing but have persevered. I have resisted the mother-hen impulse to cover them up, reminding myself that these are plants that grow in Siberia. Surface weeds have taken advantage of bare ground, but they easily pull up when it thaws in the afternoons, and have not been life-threatening.

When it comes down to it, every year is a horticultural experiment. We will always have wet winters with occasional deep freezes. Heavy wet snow is the only kind we ever get. We start taking our clothes off if the temps top 70; our summers may be drought-like, but they generally remain cool. The wind is always gonna blow, making keeping on top of the watering and evaporation rates a bit of a challenge. You can do your best to build the soil and keep up with the weeds, you can record the weather stats and track the storm systems coming in off the coast, you can apply mulch to get through the dry times and most definitely take it off during the wet, but still, all such experiments entail a certain amount of risk, as well as a learning opportunity, whether through success or failure, that can’t be achieved any other way. Books won’t do it. They can give you guidelines, but when it comes to garlic, or gardening, for that matter, “gardeners must dance with feedback, play with results, turn as they learn.” (Michael P. Garofalo, “Pulling Onions.”)

Siberian Garlic Looking Good!

So – seeing these new garlic sprouts gives me a sense of pride and joy. I have been growing garlic for – jeesh – almost 35 years, but every year, I look at my little sprouts coming up in mid-winter with utter amazement. The Siberian Purple Stripes pictured here have always been an outstanding performer for me. They look so determined. So orderly in their rows. United in their desire to thrive. And as we all bask together in this afternoon sunshine (see how the dark soil holds the heat! no mulch to keep in the cold!), I can’t help but think that they are that much more resilient for the hardships. I marvel at how completely one with nature they are, understanding with their entire being the subtle changes in light and shadow as the sun moves across the sky; and my, how they almost glow with the inner sense of a coming spring!

Sitting in my garlic patch, I can feel it. It’s going to be a good year.

But we have a forecast for snow and temps in the 20s.

Cover them up? Nope.

Resist the need to control. Give them credit for the strong plants they are. Pay attention. Learn. Don’t mess with nature.

I laugh as I read that sentence, which I wrote after I got the main garlic crop in the ground and also – and this is key – an experimental crop of bulbils, those tiny seed-like things in the mature scapes. I then “blithely” skipped town and headed for a week in a warmer climate. In my absence, the Olympic Peninsula got hammered with about a foot of heavy snow – which I have not yet come home to witness.  In fact, I’m not sure I can even make it home – and based on reports, I’m not sure I even want to!

But seriously, folks – saving those scapes and planting the little bulbils just may have saved my you-know-what. (CROP is what I mean, of course.)

Yeah, I know – most people don’t allow the scapes to mature. Common wisdom says to cut off the scape in June when it snakes its gangly neck toward the sun, which forces the plant to send its full energy downward, resulting in gargantuan (one would hope!) bulbs.

Traditionally, I, too, being the manipulative person I am, have followed this advice. But I just had this gut feeling last May that everything was not going as well below ground as it was above. We had more rain October through December than we usually get all year, and where we usually get an average of 17” per year, by the end April, we were approaching 2 feet. All winter and spring, steady winds roared in off the coast, gusts frequently topping 40 mph. Our average maximum temperature, even during the “heat” of summer, never hit 70 degrees. I had placed a relatively heavy mulch of old hay over the crop, which I thought was helping to filter the rain and protect the plants, but I knew it could go both ways – it might just be holding in the cold and wet.

Hmmmm.

And so, when it came time to cut the scapes, I thought maybe I should let the plant do its own thing – be the plant it was designed to be. I confess, I cut a few simply because they are so irresistibly good, but I showed remarkable self-restraint and let the rest grow. If all else fails, I reasoned, I can at least start over with the scapes.

It proved to be a good tactic, as I lost nearly 75% of my bulbs to mold and neck rot.

The best hardneck survivors of rain, wind, and outright neglect:

• Porcelain: German Extra Hardy and Romanian Red
• Purple Stripe: Russian Giant and Siberian

(Lesson learned: I should have pulled back the mulch much earlier than I did – or not used it at all.)

Ok. Moving forward.

How do you plant bulbils from scapes?

Heck if I know. You think I’m some kind of expert just because I blog about it? Beware of people like me on the Blogosphere! I’ve never done it before. But I know it can be done. Or so I hear. Course, you have to pay attention to your plants for at least 3 years to get them up to size (again, according to Internet wisdom) – but if you consider how many little bulbils you can get off one scape, and how much it costs if you buy disease-free organic seed stock at somewhere between $14 and $20/lb or more, it would seem to be an excellent way to size up your crop if that’s the way you want to go. And as a caveat – I HAVE successfully planted the little nuggets that grow off the sides of Elephant garlic bulbs – but that’s not the same thing. Besides, Elephant garlic is not really a garlic, but a leek.

So here is what I did:

Where to put them was a major consideration. I knew I couldn’t plant the tiny bulbils in my regular garden because they would probably look like blades of grass and would be difficult to weed out. I needed someplace relatively protected, because they are likely to be fragile this first year. Planting them inside was not an option for me, and besides, they probably need a period of cold like their larger cousins.

Next problem: What to plant them in. I did not have enough pots for the number of bulbils I wanted to plant, but I did happen to have some large plastic bins that I had previously used for my red wiggler worms. I cut them in half around the perimeter (a 2-foot depth of soil seemed like overkill, and I could use the top rims to use as border control around invasive plants). I drilled holes in the bottom for drainage and filled the bins with decent potting soil that was reasonably weed-free. The bulbil seeds vary from the size of a spinach seed to a large pea – so I pressed them into the soil accordingly and covered them with more top soil. I covered the bins with a scrap of fence wire mesh to keep the cat out – and we shall see.

I’ll keep you posted on the progress. Stay tuned!

You would think that after 30 years of growing garlic, I would have this down to a science. But I have to say, every year is a little different. After last year’s “learning experience” (ahm!), I am rethinking what I thought I knew and going back to some basics.

There is a lot of good advice out there on the Internet, but you have to examine it according to your own situation. You can read that statement twice if you want to.

Here is my basic process:

1. Build beds by shoveling dirt from pathways into the middle of the bed and rake smooth
2. Mark rows at least 6″ apart down the length of the bed
3. Break apart bulbs and pick out the biggest, cleanest cloves for planting
4. Stick individual cloves root-end down, pointy-end up, about 3-4″ down into the soil, 6-8″ apart down the row (more for elephant garlic)
5. Cover with about 2″ of soil and pat down snug.

That’s it.

Need more details?

Mapping out the garlic beds

Crop Rotation:

Number One: Never plant your garlic in same place twice in a row. You have to rotate your garlic to prevent diseases, and preferably, over 3 to 4 years or even more. I have six 25-ft square plots around which I rotate my garlic from one year to the next. I’ve recently dedicated one plot to berries, and another I usually keep in veggies, so realistically, that makes 4 or 5, depending on where I put the vegetables.

Building the Soil:

Soil is everything. Garlic is a heavy feeder. The size of your bulbs and their nutritional value are directly related to the soil. Ideal pH is between 6.5 and 7.0.

I do a lot to build the soil, but I confess, I am never sure it is enough. We have a heavy layer of clay beneath about 6″ of topsoil, and it has been a very difficult soil to amend. I plant cover crops of rye, vetch, clover, and buckwheat, depending on the season and other variables. In the past, I have turned them under with a tiller, which I always worry will just create more hardpan and in the process, cut up every worm that might be trying to survive in there. This year, I planted very tall rye grass, cut it with a sickle and turned things over with a pitchfork, which was a lot gentler on the worms and various bugs and microbes, but a heck of a lot of work. I topped it with about 7 yards of well-composted cow manure (thank you Dungeness Valley Creamery!) and turned that over, too. Then I planted buckwheat and turned that in. I tell you what. I am beat. But the soil looks beautiful. It’s going to be the best garlic ever. And yes, I say that every year.

I would like to do the “no-till” layer method, but quite frankly, it hasn’t worked for me. Layers of mulch have only helped molds to grow and the weeds still loved them.

Planning:

What is this deal with math and gardening? I find myself calculating spacing and bed widths and varying crop yields in my sleep!

This year, I planned for five 3-ft wide beds, ~25-ft long, with 1.5-ft paths between. I am planting 4 rows of garlic down the beds spaced just under 8″ apart across the bed (which leaves 6″+ on the edges) and 6″ apart down the rows. It gives me about 200 plants per bed, actually, a little more, because the beds are a little longer than 25 feet.  I considered variations of narrower beds, 3 rows across; fewer beds, wider spacing of cloves and wider spacing of paths; 2 rows of bulbs flat on the ground; etc. etc. etc. – but for my situation, the 5-bed scheme worked best. Because my plot is a little longer than wide, my plan is to run the beds lengthwise, running north-south. It’s a sunny spot, and I don’t worry too much about the rotation of the earth relative to direction.

Building Beds:

As mentioned above, building beds is simply shoveling dirt from the pathways into the center of the bed and raking it smooth.

In the past, I have built my beds quite high to help with drainage and to keep the soil softer and warmer. I have found, however, that the sides tend to slough off a bit. One year, I planted the cloves too near the edge. Those cloves seemed to get a head start with the warming sun in the spring; however, later, when the plants were taller, their roots were too close to the outside edge and were  easily damaged and/or exposed.

Another problem was the weeds. Tall beds provide more surface area. Dandelions, in particular, took a real liking to the sidewalls of the taller beds, which were nice and warm in the early spring. Although at first I thought the weeds helped stabilize the bed, I later realized they were competing for water and nutrients (and winning). I sliced them off at ground level and tossed the leaves into the paths, but they just grew back all that much stronger. I later dug up phenomenal roots over an inch in diameter that extended toward China.

I am hoping that my beds this year are raised enough to stand out and remain soft, but low enough to facilitate weeding.

Other Soil Amendments:

It is easy to get carried away with various additives, many of which have “Meal” in the name, which obviously indicates something good for your plants: alfalfa meal, blood meal, bone meal, soybean meal, feather meal, etc.  I’ve been known to add all of these things to the beds, although I usually save the blood meal for the spring because it provides a quicker release of nitrogen. Usually our soils benefit with the addition of a little lime to bring the pH up. I have in the past also added Greensand to add minerals and loosen clay, and something called Meadowfoam, which provides pesticidal qualities against nematodes, wireworms, bacteria, and fungus. I have mixed these into the soil with the precision of the flamboyant chef I tend to be and topped it all with compost, a sprinkle of kelp, and a dash of worm tea mixed with fragrant fish emulsion.

Well, guess what folks – this year I did that thing they always tell you to do: I took soil samples and used a test kit to measure the NPK & pH - and guess what - everything looked fine.

Hmm. Adding at the very least a little lime & bonemeal has been standard procedure for years, but if it ain’t broke….

Like I said – I am rethinking everything this year. Going back to basics means keeping it simple. I have already done my work with this soil – I have broken up clay clods as best I can – and this is hard for me – but at this point, I am not going to mess with it!

I will reevaluate the situation in the spring and go from there.

Planting:

Size: When it comes to garlic, size matters. Plant your biggest, best cloves. Period. And when those run out, plant everything else (you can never have too much garlic!). A bunch of little ones crammed together at the ends of the rows make good scallions in the spring.

This homemade hole marker spaces the plants 6" apart. Makes planting a breeze!

Spacing: Give your main bulbs plenty of room. Disregard advice that tells you to plant them 4″ apart. Give them at least 6″ and more if you have it. Take a look sometime at the roots of the garlic plant. Some varieties grow long thick roots that extend quite a ways into the soil. I think these probably hold up best under repeated frost upheavals. Others are relatively shallow-rooted, but they still spread out. It you crowd the bulbs, you are also crowding the roots. The bulbs will be larger if the roots don’t have to compete for food and water – whether from weeds or neighboring plants.

This year, my planting philosophy is going to be all about breathing. Give them the space to breath. Allow the air to circulate. Get anything out of the way that interferes with breathing. If we all just focus on our breathing, we can eliminate a lot of stress. So it is with plants.

Pre-Plant Soak: In years past, I have soaked the cloves in diluted liquid seaweed with a little added baking soda and molasses. I have dunked them in rubbing alcohol just before planting. It makes sense to give them this boost for growth and added protection against fungi and molds.

I can’t claim credit for the soaking idea. It’s common knowledge to soak pea seeds – but recommendations for soaking garlic come from the Garlic-Growing Guru Bob Anderson over at Gourmet Garlic Gardens, where you will find a wealth of information about garlic. His online farmer’s market concept for selling garlic has helped small growers all over the country.

Make furrows down the bed, mark with the hole maker, plop the cloves in right-side-up and cover. That's it!

However, in line with my theme to rethink everything I thought I knew, and in the spirit of keeping it simple, I broke the rules again and I just stuck them in the ground. That’s right folks. No bowls of soaking liquid. I didn’t peel them (in fact, they look so naked and vulnerable without their peelings, a description that will probably reward me with all kinds of spam mail).

Maybe – just maybe – presoaking actually invites molds, bacteria, and nematodes in my neck of the woods. On the one hand, you want to get the garlic going before winter sets in, but you don’t want it going so strong that it gets spindly and is more susceptible to freeze damage. Maybe the peelings harbor molds and bacteria from the soil; but maybe they offer some protection as well. If the clove is bruised with all the handling (and it certainly is softer after all that soaking), it might be more vulnerable to problems. We need the plants to get a bit of a head start; we need them to go through their cold period to be able to form bulbs; but we also need to focus the main part of the growth in the spring – not now.

You have to do what’s right for your situation. This year, I skipped the presoak ritual. I just stuck them in the ground, pointy-end up, root-end down, covered it with about 2″ of soil and patted it down snug, probably just as people have done for over 2000 years. I’ll let you know how this works out.

The Mulch Mantra:

I can’t end this without talking about mulch. I am convinced that mulch was my demise this last year. We had a heck of a lot of rain, and although I think the mulch helped to filter all that water, it also kept all that water there longer and kept the soil cold. Plus, it seeded a lot of weeds in the beds, which loved that cool, wet soil. I have been debating on whether to put just a light covering of grass clippings over the beds, but I am resisting that temptation. People living in Wisconsin or Pennsylvania probably need that extra layer of insulation. People in the high desert of California undoubtedly use a lot of mulch to conserve water. But out here on the Olympic Peninsula – maybe it’s not a good idea. We need drainage. We need to warm up and dry out occasionally. Yes, it will freeze and thaw and freeze again enough to make all the roadways glare ice, but that’s nothin’ compared with the ice storms in New York. Yes, we are predicted to get record snowfalls this year – and frankly, some snow protection will be appreciated, even if it shuts down the town because we have no way of removing it – but records here are nothin’ compared to the drifts across the Dakotas. So – based on this year’s disaster – I am ignoring all advice on the necessity of mulching. For us, mulch is just an open invitation to molds, fungi, and critters. Maybe if we get some summer heat and a long drought, I will reconsider – but for now, the winter protection for the garlic consists of the soil on top. That’s it.

Time to Kick Back:

So that wasn’t so hard, was it? I have nearly 1000 cloves in the ground and a little experiment started with a bunch of little bulblets. I’m praying for a good crop and lots of garlic to share next summer.

Hope some of you find my tactics (and experience) useful. Take what you need and apply it to your own situation. Every year is different. Every season – every soil – every garlic variety. Garlic is a hardy plant, and I have proven that it will take a lot of abuse. But if you want really good garlic with plump firm cloves that burst with fire in your mouth and that keep you supplied until the greens are available in the spring, you have to think like a garlic. After 30-some years, I’m still figuring that one out.

(oh – and about the “kicking back” – I’m just being funny. Get busy and plant your winter cover crops!)