I pulled out all my cauliflowers a couple of weeks ago. My inability to judge when to eat vegies meant that I missed the short period in which the flowers are tight and good to eat, and so a lot of them went to seed. They were riddled with aphids. Due to the aphid problem (which couldn't be fixed with white oil, derris dust, or any other organic housemade mixture found on the internet), I'm not sure if I'll grow them again the near future. For me, aphids are just too hard to rid of on cauliflowers.
Anyhoo, I had these massive cauliflower plants with their quite sculptural heads, and I was about to stuff them into my already very full compost heap when I remembered that I'd read somewhere that cauliflowers (and other brassicas) shouldn't be disposed of in compost heaps. This is apparently for the same reason why you should wait 3 years before planting brassicas (cauliflowers, broccoli, cabbage etc) in the same garden bead - they carry brassica-specific diseases in the soil. So I guiltily squished the mature plants into my garbage bins, aphids (+white oil) and all. Does anyone know if this 'no brassica in the compost' rule is true?
On the topic of flowering plants, I've left quite a few of my vegies to go to seed, and as a result I have a stunning flowering display in one of my vegie patches. The rocket flowers are particularly lovely: tiny brown and white flowers on tall stems. The bok choi has tiny yellow flowers, which are lovely against the light green leaves, and like the rocket, the plants are now huge. I suspect that I'm going to have to get a bigger compost heap...
Showing posts with label cauliflower. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cauliflower. Show all posts
Monday, August 23, 2010
Saturday, May 29, 2010
Snail Poison Castle (and more)
Today, furious that many of my seedlings planted last week are now skeletal stalk, I upped the ante on the snail war. I made a snail poison castle, complete with moat drawbridge (edit. moat is such a lovely word, my mistake) for easy access:
The reason for a castle, rather than a scattering of blue pellets, is due to my small fur child, who for some reason quite likes to eat dirt. I also don't like the idea of the poison getting into the soil. My initial model (1.1) didn't have the drawbridge over the sharp cut edge. I thought it was a nice touch, even if only aesthetically....
The seedlings that this castle is protecting are broccoli, red cabbage and mini cabbage. I have a few more broccoli plants growing a few beds away, and they're just starting to sprout:
Over the last 8 months that I've been working on this garden, I've discovered that while the beds are relatively small, to access the plants in the centre of each bed requires me to step into the garden bed. I have heavy clay soil and so when I step onto it, I compress it, which makes it harder to dig into later. So in the newly planted beds, I've been lying old planks along the centre of the beds. When you step onto the planks, your weight is redistributed slightly, and it means that you don't get dirty feet either (I have a bad habit of walking out in ugg boots to the garden patch at night to get last minute vegies for dinner, then having to wash my ugg boots when I come back in. Der)
you can see a few cabbage stalks behind the newly installed weapon
The reason for a castle, rather than a scattering of blue pellets, is due to my small fur child, who for some reason quite likes to eat dirt. I also don't like the idea of the poison getting into the soil. My initial model (1.1) didn't have the drawbridge over the sharp cut edge. I thought it was a nice touch, even if only aesthetically....
The seedlings that this castle is protecting are broccoli, red cabbage and mini cabbage. I have a few more broccoli plants growing a few beds away, and they're just starting to sprout:
Over the last 8 months that I've been working on this garden, I've discovered that while the beds are relatively small, to access the plants in the centre of each bed requires me to step into the garden bed. I have heavy clay soil and so when I step onto it, I compress it, which makes it harder to dig into later. So in the newly planted beds, I've been lying old planks along the centre of the beds. When you step onto the planks, your weight is redistributed slightly, and it means that you don't get dirty feet either (I have a bad habit of walking out in ugg boots to the garden patch at night to get last minute vegies for dinner, then having to wash my ugg boots when I come back in. Der)
Last weekend's planting of garlic and beetroot seeds
between the planks. Plus leeks, spring onions.
Access planks in my cabbage/broccoli/established cauliflower bed
On another note, my rocket and one of my lettuces are going to seed. I've never seen a lettuce go to seed as it's the first time I've successfully grown them, so I thought I'd sit back and watch the show!
seeding rocket in background and foreground,
a seeding lettuce centre left, and some happy lettuces separating
Sunday, December 6, 2009
oh the joys of mushroom compost
So after light-starving my inaugural three garden beds (shown in the previous post) in the hope of killing any stray weeds left behind, I uncovered them (hazaah!) and started mulching them with mushroom compost. Now, at this point I should point out that before my vegie garden course, I didn't know what mulching was, or what mushroom compost was (in fact, I'm pretty sure I didn't even know of the existence of mushroom compost). Luckily, the course has been jam packed with compost theory and mulch obsession, so I feel that I know a bit more now (did you know that there's a difference between dirt and soil?!)
Anyhoo, I mulched, then decided to stick in a couple of tomatoes, one of which was given to me by my garden loving neighbour, who has millions of seedlings in his backyard in various yoghurt tubs, plastic cups and bottles. He just passes them over the fence. Sweet.
I also planted a couple of his broad beans, and I'm hoping that the broad beans that I loathed as a child turn out a bit nicer in adulthood. I transplanted a passionfruit from the rhubarb bed, which I'd temporarily stuck there, and also put in a few cucumbers (although I now know that cucumbers grow a little differently to how I thought - across, not up - so I may have to move them).
I had sat down originally with my Lost Seed packets to plan out a vegie garden. I had my companion planting list, my crop rotation diagram which should, theoretically, determine what I plant together as well, and my entire garden map that I drew up a couple of weeks after moving into the house. Of course, the companion planting and crop rotation groups were totally contradictory, and so I decided to plant things as I went, just as I always have done.
Just a quick note: Lost Seed are a Tasmanian company that make non-hybrid seeds (yes, something else that I learned in my course). Apparently if you want to grow things from seed the following year you're best off getting non-hybrid seeds. They've got an amazing array of weird seeds. Luckily for me they have companion planting summaries on each seed packet, listing a plant's likes and dislikes. I tried to comply, and ended up following the companion planting far more than the crop rotation. What does that say about me?
The images below show the three beds, with a weedy one in the foreground:
On the top bed, to the left, I have planted some 'Tigerella' tomato seeds. The stakes make me look a lot more optimistic than I actually am. They are simply marking the spot where I planted so that I can identify if they don't come up. Of course if they do come up, the stakes can have the joyous job of holding Tigerella, the stripey (yes!) climbing tomatoes.
Oh, I should point out, on top of the tap thingy, there is a punnet of parsley that my earlier mentioned neighbour passed over. I must remember to plant so as not to offend, for one of the major disadvantages of having a neighbour who can look down into your backyard is that they can identify if you haven't planted their carefully raised seedlings.
Next to the Tigerella are some spinach seeds, the cucumbers (to be moved), and then 2 rows of lettuce. I managed to show some restraint and only sow 2 rows, following the advice on the packet that wisely suggests staggered planting.
On the middle bed, there are (from left to right) the passionfruit plant, celery, some basil and the tomato seedlings planted a couple of weeks ago (this post actually covers about 2-3 weeks activity). Along the eastern end of the bed are sown more tomato seeds, this time 'Gardener's Delight' of the climbing variety. You can see more overenthusiastic staking.
Then on the bottom bed there are the two mystery broad bean seedlings, a heap of dwarf bean seeds (as a gift from my mum), and some cauliflower.
With the exception of the spinach, tomatoes, celery (which was disasterous!) and basil, I've not attempted to grow most of these plants before, so I'm quite excited to see what a cauliflower looks like, and I'm almost wetting myself over the Tigerellas.
broad beans
I also planted a couple of his broad beans, and I'm hoping that the broad beans that I loathed as a child turn out a bit nicer in adulthood. I transplanted a passionfruit from the rhubarb bed, which I'd temporarily stuck there, and also put in a few cucumbers (although I now know that cucumbers grow a little differently to how I thought - across, not up - so I may have to move them).
Just a quick note: Lost Seed are a Tasmanian company that make non-hybrid seeds (yes, something else that I learned in my course). Apparently if you want to grow things from seed the following year you're best off getting non-hybrid seeds. They've got an amazing array of weird seeds. Luckily for me they have companion planting summaries on each seed packet, listing a plant's likes and dislikes. I tried to comply, and ended up following the companion planting far more than the crop rotation. What does that say about me?
The images below show the three beds, with a weedy one in the foreground:
On the top bed, to the left, I have planted some 'Tigerella' tomato seeds. The stakes make me look a lot more optimistic than I actually am. They are simply marking the spot where I planted so that I can identify if they don't come up. Of course if they do come up, the stakes can have the joyous job of holding Tigerella, the stripey (yes!) climbing tomatoes.Oh, I should point out, on top of the tap thingy, there is a punnet of parsley that my earlier mentioned neighbour passed over. I must remember to plant so as not to offend, for one of the major disadvantages of having a neighbour who can look down into your backyard is that they can identify if you haven't planted their carefully raised seedlings.
Next to the Tigerella are some spinach seeds, the cucumbers (to be moved), and then 2 rows of lettuce. I managed to show some restraint and only sow 2 rows, following the advice on the packet that wisely suggests staggered planting.
On the middle bed, there are (from left to right) the passionfruit plant, celery, some basil and the tomato seedlings planted a couple of weeks ago (this post actually covers about 2-3 weeks activity). Along the eastern end of the bed are sown more tomato seeds, this time 'Gardener's Delight' of the climbing variety. You can see more overenthusiastic staking.
Then on the bottom bed there are the two mystery broad bean seedlings, a heap of dwarf bean seeds (as a gift from my mum), and some cauliflower.
With the exception of the spinach, tomatoes, celery (which was disasterous!) and basil, I've not attempted to grow most of these plants before, so I'm quite excited to see what a cauliflower looks like, and I'm almost wetting myself over the Tigerellas.
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