After the slow, sticky heatwave dissolved, July flew by like someone hit the gas. As we rapidly approach our first year anniversary living on this land, and our tenth anniversary together this Fall, I can’t help but be sentimental. This life is the ordinary extraordinary life I could only dream of back then, now come to life. That girl, broken from a toxic failed marriage and simultaneously crushed by my time in the corporate world. That girl who decided that I would take radical responsibility for my life once and for all. I wish I could go back and whisper how it all turns out to that younger version of me. I chased a better life with a fierce faith that I would get there, or simply keep trying until I did.
And now, here we are. Yes, thank you and more please.
The funny thing is that July was far from easy. It started with extreme, dangerous heat and then transitioned into a mixture of daily garden bug patrol, losing half the squash crop, and increasing predator pressure. It’s no Instagram highlight reel. It’s real real.
High temperatures are tough for everyone. No one is immune to a “real feel” of 115, but add in autoimmune issues, and every day becomes a balance of survival and attempting to accomplish anything on the to-do list.
The squash bugs and vine borers, both new pests to me that I’ve become better acquainted with than I’d like, took down both the kabocha squashes first, before either could fruit. The first red kuri was next, leaving a small unripe fruit the chickens were happy to get. Next both Black Beauty zucchini went down. I attempted injecting BT, an organic bacteria that kills the borer inside the vine, which was a frustrating and ultimately mostly unsuccessful tactic.
Cucumbers and pumpkins never really got going at all. I’ve replanted, again.
Even the “borer resistant” tromboncino lost an entire branch.
Still going are the tromboncino, red kuri, Armenian cucumber, and, most excitingly, one of the melon plants has four fuzzy-looking cantaloupes coming in.
I’m still waiting for most of the tomatoes and peppers to get going. It feels excruciatingly late for harvesting to peak, but nature won’t be rushed no matter how frustrating it may be.
One standout gardening success this year is the kids’ gardens. I set up small postage-stamp-size plots for them in early June, making a no-dig bed for each of them by first grazing the chickens, then covering in cardboard, partially broken-down compost I made in the spring, and purchased topsoil. I let them pick out seedlings and seeds at the big box store and they planted everything in one afternoon. Since then, we’ve been harvesting basil and dill, a couple each of peppers, zucchini, and cucumbers, the corn is taller than Brian, several huge cantaloupes growing, and pumpkin vines everywhere. No plan, no trellises, just pure chaos slowly taking over.
The flowers have really started blooming, finally. There are zinnias, cosmos, marigolds, and dahlias tucked pretty much everywhere now. I started with a couple varieties of zinnias this year, but by this point in the season I’ve planted about two dozen varieties. The clear winner of my plant obsessions this year. Every cut flower bouquet results in more side shoots rooting in water, to make even more plants. Much, much more to come on flowers, the obsession is only growing as I’m already purchasing seeds and tubers for next year. Can’t stop, won’t stop.
The project list is never-ending, pests and predators far more persistent than my energy levels, and yet, it’s all part of it. This life, one rooted in what’s real and true, means dealing with all of it. Real and true comes in all varieties of good and bad.
And speaking of bad, it sure was that finding a raccoon in the bird yard while I was trying to put everyone to bed. Fortunately Brian happened to hear me yelling at the raccoon to leave, and the ducks had enough sense to move away from it. Neither listened.
As I put the birds away, it became pretty immediately clear the raccoon was very, very sick, making it a double threat to my birds and to the farm at large. What came next wasn’t fun or pretty, but it was necessary.
After the raccoon was dispatched, we did our best to clear out any pathogens left behind. Masks, gloves, boiling water, even the blowtorch was needed. Raccoons can carry vicious diseases and we can’t have anything left behind for the people, pets, or livestock. This also included calls to local health departments, wildlife resources, and rescues. The end result was two euthanized raccoons and the assumption that several others nearby are probably ill as well. Super.
I did finally manage to get the second chicken coop finished, and by I I mean Brian, because I could not motivate myself to tackle a complicated assembly project in this heat. He’s so much better at that kind of thing than I am, fortunately for us both! The final verdict on that coop was that it’s mid at best, and will need to be upgraded in the future. It was immediately apparent that it doesn’t really do the “mobile” part of the mobile chicken coop, which is a big issue. The plan was to move them to fresh grass almost daily and throughout the garden to work garden beds.
Day 3 of the new coop included an attempted predator break-in, resulting in another immediate project to get them into a safer situation. My neighbor pitched in to help me build their new run, a huge help and so appreciated.
We had a huge amount of tree work done late in the month. Nearly 20 huge and unsafe trees near buildings were removed, which in turn has removed a significant amount of stress during storms. The crazy thing is that you can hardly tell in the before-and-after photos. We’re so fortunate to have so many trees. An overabundance of trees.
My July bug experiences weren’t just limited to the ones eating all my plants. I also brought in another order of “good bugs” to help balance out their destruction. This took an unexpected turn when a quick clip of the praying mantis release went a little viral. Pretty immediately there were some comments about natives versus non-natives, which sent me down another rabbit hole. It turns out there’s a non-native species of praying mantis that’s become so common, that’s pretty much all you can buy. I hadn’t even bought these, they were free with my purchase of things I’m more familiar with, ladybugs and worms, but it was an unexpected and entertaining side quest, getting the weird spotlight of social media for a few days. Having an inbox of people yelling at you about bugs is pretty much the last thing I expected, but it honestly makes total sense for my life these days.
And here we are, already into August. I have four trays of fall seedlings started, probably overkill, but after all the issues I had in the spring starting seeds, I’m okay with that. Hopefully I’ll have enough to share, since I think pretty much every household should have a few pots with lettuce right now. No one wants the cyclospora troubles.
Even though I’m not a huge summer girl, this is definitely one of my favorite summers.
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