Sunday, August 20
Just this morning when I was watering the peppers again, I stopped to look at the Ichiban eggplant bushes, their dark purple stems branching upward and outward, their light purple blossoms and dark purple fruits hanging downward -- every part of them so colorfully coordinated and balanced they seemed like studies in purple. The eggplant, of course, is one of the most ornamental bushes in the world of vegetables. But even the lowly cucumber vines have a visible appeal. Even now when they're stressed out from the heat and from a month of pumping out a dozen fruit a day, their dark green leaves still float above their bright yellow blossoms and dark green fruit below, somewhat like waterlilies.
Carl H. Klaus, My Vegetable Love: A Journal of a Growing Season
Friday, August 19, 2011
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
August Gardening Tip
In mid to late August, pinch off all the blossoms and new growth from your tomatoes. It will force the plants to put their energy into ripening the remaining green tomatoes before the last frost. Also, to encourage ripening in vining-type tomatoes, prune the top by several inches once they reach six feet.
-- Veronica Lorson Fowler, Gardening in Iowa and Surrounding Areas
Monday, August 15, 2011
Prairie of the Week
Little Missouri State Park
5,900 acres, NDPRD, (701) 794-3731
Mixed-grass prairie amid dramatically eroded landscape surrounding confluence of Little Missouri and Missouri Rivers, which is now submerged in Sakakawea Reservoir. Best interior access is by horseback.
From Killdeer, go 16 miles north on Highway 22, then east 3 miles on gravel road.
Suzanne Winckler, Prairie: A North American Guide
5,900 acres, NDPRD, (701) 794-3731
Mixed-grass prairie amid dramatically eroded landscape surrounding confluence of Little Missouri and Missouri Rivers, which is now submerged in Sakakawea Reservoir. Best interior access is by horseback.
From Killdeer, go 16 miles north on Highway 22, then east 3 miles on gravel road.
Suzanne Winckler, Prairie: A North American Guide
Friday, August 12, 2011
Gardening in August
Sunday, August 13
So, yesterday morning, I dug the buried treasure, eager to see if they actually looked like giant buried Peanut Fingerlings, three to four inches long. I shoved my garden fork in the ground, at a distance from the dried tops, not wanting to spear any of the fingerlings with a tine. The soil turned over easily, still a bit moist from the recent rain, and there they all were -- peanut-shaped all right. But so small they looked like midget peanuts, no more than an inch or an inch and a half long. Not to worry, I thought, just a result of being a bit shaded by the pin oak tree. So I moved to the next spot and eagerly turned over the soil, only to find another handful of midgets. And another, and another. And so few potatoes, the whole batch of eight plants yielded no more than two or three meals' worth. The six red potato plants produced a somewhat better yield. Still, I felt as if the Irish potato famine had been replayed right in my own back yard.
Carl H. Klause, My Vegetable Love: A Journal of a Growing Season
So, yesterday morning, I dug the buried treasure, eager to see if they actually looked like giant buried Peanut Fingerlings, three to four inches long. I shoved my garden fork in the ground, at a distance from the dried tops, not wanting to spear any of the fingerlings with a tine. The soil turned over easily, still a bit moist from the recent rain, and there they all were -- peanut-shaped all right. But so small they looked like midget peanuts, no more than an inch or an inch and a half long. Not to worry, I thought, just a result of being a bit shaded by the pin oak tree. So I moved to the next spot and eagerly turned over the soil, only to find another handful of midgets. And another, and another. And so few potatoes, the whole batch of eight plants yielded no more than two or three meals' worth. The six red potato plants produced a somewhat better yield. Still, I felt as if the Irish potato famine had been replayed right in my own back yard.
Carl H. Klause, My Vegetable Love: A Journal of a Growing Season
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Habitat of the Month
Tallgrass Prairie
Bobolink
Look out over a tallgrass prairie on a breezy summer day. The gently waving grasses and wildflowers that make up the prairie move like ocean waves. There are very few trees, but some prairie plants grow more than eight feet high. Rich soil and the right amount of rain and sunshine give tallgrass prairies all they need to thrive. This wide-open grassland is an ideal habitat for a songbird like the bobolink.
If you spy a small bird with a white back, an all-black underbelly, and a cream-colored cap on its head, it's a male bobolink.
Bobolinks eat the seed and insects found in the open prairie spaces. They build grassy nests on the ground. The bobolink's nest and egg color blend well with its surrounding to keep the young birds hidden.
Because prairies don't have many trees to perch on, a number of prairie birds sing as they fly. Boblinks pour out lovely liquid songs as they soar above the grasses.
Tallgrass prairies once grew across a large area in the middle of North America. Now, most have been plowed under and replaced by farms and cities. Fortunately, many people are preserving the tallgrass prairies that remain, and in some places, they are planting new prairies. You can visit some of these prairies. Where there are prairies, there will be homes for bobolinks.
Claudia McGehee, Where Do Birds Live?
Bobolink
Look out over a tallgrass prairie on a breezy summer day. The gently waving grasses and wildflowers that make up the prairie move like ocean waves. There are very few trees, but some prairie plants grow more than eight feet high. Rich soil and the right amount of rain and sunshine give tallgrass prairies all they need to thrive. This wide-open grassland is an ideal habitat for a songbird like the bobolink.
If you spy a small bird with a white back, an all-black underbelly, and a cream-colored cap on its head, it's a male bobolink.
Bobolinks eat the seed and insects found in the open prairie spaces. They build grassy nests on the ground. The bobolink's nest and egg color blend well with its surrounding to keep the young birds hidden.
Because prairies don't have many trees to perch on, a number of prairie birds sing as they fly. Boblinks pour out lovely liquid songs as they soar above the grasses.
Tallgrass prairies once grew across a large area in the middle of North America. Now, most have been plowed under and replaced by farms and cities. Fortunately, many people are preserving the tallgrass prairies that remain, and in some places, they are planting new prairies. You can visit some of these prairies. Where there are prairies, there will be homes for bobolinks.
Claudia McGehee, Where Do Birds Live?
Monday, August 8, 2011
This Week in Iowa Nature
Summer flowers of damp woodlands include Joe Pye weed and jewelweed, which soothes the itch from stinging nettles, often encountered in the same lowland habitat.
Jean C. Prior and James Sandrock, The Iowa Nature Calendar
Jean C. Prior and James Sandrock, The Iowa Nature Calendar
Friday, August 5, 2011
Gardening in August
Friday, August 4
Now, when all the plants and vines are pumping out vegetables like a mass-production line, I'm suddenly tempted to put the gardens on automatic pilot and take a few days' break from the constant vigil of tending them. And I mean break -- a complete break. No weeding, no dusting, no watering, no hindering, no cultivating, no pruning, no trying. No checking on this, no fretting about that. Not even any harvesting. No gardening activities of any kind. The yearning to be free of it all takes hold of me every year around this time, brought on no doubt by the long and continuous labor of bringing the gardens to this point of abundance.
Carl H. Klaus, My Vegetable Love: A Journal of the Growing Season
Now, when all the plants and vines are pumping out vegetables like a mass-production line, I'm suddenly tempted to put the gardens on automatic pilot and take a few days' break from the constant vigil of tending them. And I mean break -- a complete break. No weeding, no dusting, no watering, no hindering, no cultivating, no pruning, no trying. No checking on this, no fretting about that. Not even any harvesting. No gardening activities of any kind. The yearning to be free of it all takes hold of me every year around this time, brought on no doubt by the long and continuous labor of bringing the gardens to this point of abundance.
Carl H. Klaus, My Vegetable Love: A Journal of the Growing Season
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