The In Betweensies

It's an interesting time in the garden right now. Mid-August, that is, and I should qualify this by saying that I'm only speaking for my garden. Perhaps it's because I'm new at this, and that I didn't read the directions, so to speak, or consult the experts, but it's a sort of tired time, a struggling time out there, in the plants.

Members of the cucurbit family are really unhappy about the non-stop rain we New Englanders have endured since mid-July. I am not a squash, however, and am thrilled at the rain. For me, water falling freely from the sky is a wonder of nature I just can't get over. Then again, I don't have powdery mildew eating away at my limbs.

Last I wrote on the subject, I painted a triumphant picture of sturdy, organically managed plants overcoming a fungal invasion. That was true -- two weeks ago. However, since then, the picture has turned grim. I go out each morning and cull the worst affected leaves and vines. I try to keep the leprous foliage from the yet-undiseased parts.  But I know that my hands and scissors could very well be doing more harm than good by spreading mildew spores. I've even stopped spraying for the past few days. I just can't stand the idea of contributing still more moisture to the already burdened plants.

Lessons learned:

1. Seek out powdery mildew resistant strains of plants next season.

2. Only plant vining plants on trellises, raised far enough above the ground to allow for good ventilation.

The awkward in-betweensies I mentioned earlier has to do with the "now what?" stage.

I've harvested all of the early and most of the mid-season crops. And now my square-foot garden looks more like a jack-o-lantern than a lush grid of greenery. It's only now mid-August, so I figure there's at least 50-60 days before any serious risk of frost (thank you, global warming), and since I refuse to read the directions, I just don't know what to do with all that dirt real estate. 

I do know that beets are yummy, so this evening, I planted another 3 squares of Chioggia beets (4x4x3=48). And when my seeds arrive from Seed Savers Exchange, I'l plant Purple Top white globe turnips, Five Color Silverbeet Swiss chard,  Bull's Blood beets, St. Valery's carrots, and Plum Purple radishes. And in late-October, I'm giving it a go with 2 seed bulbs of German extra-hardy garlic.

The best laid plans, right?

I think I'm writing this because I feel a little like a failure right now - a little fraudulent. This is ridiculous, I know rationally, but I feel like I've let my plants down, in a way. Disease and bad weather shouldn't have happened to my first, perfect garden, and if it did, I should have protected it.

In June, we experienced an awe-inspiring thunderstorm late one evening -- the kind only summertime can produce, that are more than a little scary, and manage to remind you who's boss. I returned home from a day at the office, and was about to run inside to get out of the downpour when the wind started to whip around crazily. Immediately, my mind went to the spindly adolescent plants making their way in the garden. They lacked the girth of mature plants, and were still very vulnerable. So I ran to them and watched as the winds battered them about, and was impressed at their flexibility and strength.

But then it started to hail, and I began to panic. I stretched out my arms and fingers over the pepper plant's leaves to try to deflect the ice pellets, but they tore dozens of holes in the broad leaves. Still, I ran in circles making sounds of alarm, like a Killdeer diverting a predator from her nest. Eventually, though, I had to laugh. The temperature had dropped a good 20 degrees, and I was soaked through, my blouse plastered to my sides, and my hair tangled up in my eyelashes.

There's only so much I can do, I concluded, and went inside to dry off.

This time, though, it's different. Instead of a sudden storm, the threat is an ugly disease that is at once bigger and smaller than my weapons. Maybe all the knowledge in the world couldn't save my squashes, but the fact that I am so ignorant, such a newbie, makes me feel plain foolish right now. 

Is this how parenting will be?