Advice and tips on
© 2003 Janelle N. Seavey
Companion Planting Ė a gardening system using the natural affinities
of plants to promote or inhibit growth in their neighbors. Knowing which
plants like each other and which ones don't can increase the health and
vitality of your garden, improve the taste and nutritional value of your
vegetables, confuse pests so you can eliminate toxic chemicals, attract
beneficial insects and add to the enjoyment of gardening.'
Janelle gardens on about four acres
on the Messalonskee Stream, an outlet from Messalonskee Lake, one of the
Belgrade Lakes Region Lakes, one of which is Great Pond, made famous in
the movie "On Golden Pond".
She is an "enthusiastic
and a tad obsessed" gardener who has been companion planting for over 20
"Little Siberia" index
Books - Companions
Cicadas and Crickets and Weeds, Oh My!
As if a switch had been thrown, on August 1st, everything
changed. Lying in bed at night, I no longer hear the "gaaaruuumph" of
dozens of bullfrogs afloat in the stream as they put forth the only trick
they have for luring that special frog-babe to their hot tubs.
"Have they ever considered that conversational Italian may have a
higher success rate?" I wonder as I drift into sweet sleep.
In the hours of dawn, it is not the eager "cheeps" of robins or the
fluttering "tweeps" of goldfinches that dance through my open, screened
windows. As for my garden, my flowers, and my container plants; where, oh
where is thy vibrant green, thy young, unscathed foliage and thy clear,
Alas, it is the dregs of August and September in "Little Siberia". The
sights, sounds and even the smells of summer have shifted. Call it the
slow death before autumn, if you will. The creatures are tired. I am
tired. The plants are most definitely tired. In spite of the state of all
things, I cannot help but marvel at the seemingly coincidental flow of it
all. Do I begin to find my enthusiasm waning because everything around me
has started to lose its own "will to grow and go on"? Or, do my garden
friends sense that, bottom line; I donít give a fig any longer?
As for the birds, I have a theory. A bit Hitchcockian, perhaps, but
theoretical, nonetheless. The birds have been snatched from the air and
eaten by crickets and cicadas. Yes. Insects 1/10 their size. Now, as I try
to meet up with sleep each night, thousands of crickets conspire to
displace dripping faucets as the most annoying sound on earth. Oh, sure,
they "cheep" as diligently as the above mentioned robins. However, if
robins are the favorite relative who stands up and sings flawlessly at the
family gathering, crickets are the weird uncle that no one should have
invited and whom everyone wishes would leave the darned party, the sooner,
Cicadas? AAAAAAGGGGGGHHHHH! If an Oscar was awarded for "sound most
indicative of the arrival of the impending apocalypse", cicadas would
climb (or hop or fly) to the stage for the golden statue every time. I
struggle to pull an analogy from my imagination that would do justice to
the insidious cacophony they emit. It is as though a trillion joy buzzers
had been scattered about the fields around my house. It is an endless wave
of whirring, sawing, high-pitched throbbing of bug-dom. Given the choice
of listening to them or putting baling twine in one ear and pulling it out
the other, Iíd take life-time membership on the brain flossing team every
Weeds? Fugedaboutit. They have won. To the victor go the spoils, the
"spoils" in this case being my garden and my spirit. I would need a
flame-thrower at this point to dispatch the beasts and then they would no
doubt find a way to convert their own ashes into weed fertilizer for
It is as though all growing things give us a choice at this time of
year. They can either have lush, vibrant foliage and flowers, or they can
give us food. Since early spring, they have generated all the energy they
have into making themselves strong and capable of parenthood, if you will.
Have you heard of or seen the glow a pregnant woman has? Here in Little
Siberia, growing things glow from mid-April till mid-July. From that point
on, youíve got all kinds of chubby, sweet, adorable babies (i.e. ears of
corn, tomatoes, squash, cucumbers, etc.) As for the previously "glowing"
mothers? They are now tired, haggard and cranky, much like we human
females are after childbirth.
Of course, we do have the reprieve that will commence around
mid-September, when cooler, crisper air and still-warm sunshine start to
drench our state. Both things and people start to perk up again. The
cooler weather crops that we planted in mid-July have survived their
infancy spent in heat and humidity and now have their turn on the "perky,
spring green" circuit. With luck and the weather godís favor, lettuces,
beet greens and peas will be harvested again before that lawn-coating
glaze of the first fall frost appears.
As I write this, it is August 22, 2003. Todayís temperature is
predicted to be in the low nineties with high humidity (90%). Yet, at this
very moment, my third planting of sugar snap peas are just beginning to
blossom. Such is the perplexing and ever challenging hobby of gardening
here in the tundra of "Little Siberia". Ya jest never know what to make of
Now it is mid-September, and the dregs have continued right on target.
My bean and pea vines have been pulled and tossed onto the compost pile.
The cucumber vines are a pitiful sight, but they are insistent upon giving
us a few more of their "babies". The sun flower plants, once towering
proudly at 8 feet or more, now droop forlornly with the weight of the
fading blossoms they have struggled to produce.
There is still much to be gleaned from an exhausted Siberian garden,
however. The tomato vines are yellowed and withered, but oh, the tomatoes!
The chilled Maine nights and the still warm days give them a flavor that
exceeds my ability to describe it. Right now, I have 6 plants (Early Girl
and Roma) in my garden as well as 2 heavily fruited grape tomato plants.
On my deck, I have 1 cherry tomato plant in a container and 2 Early Girl
plants in another. In another container, I have 2 cherry plants tied
together that have reached nearly 8 feet in height. All these plants are
loaded with red orbs of delight. At least once a day, I walk the "Tomato
Walk of Snacking" and pluck away at each and every plant and Iíve yet to
grow tired of that first explosion of summer in my mouth as I bite down on
each one. The deck, driveway and garage floor is covered with little piles
of tomato skin that have been left behind by "Chippy", our resident
chipmunk. As I sat in a chair on the deck one day, I heard a rustling
noise and turned my head to see eye to eye with him as he paused, halfway
up a tomato plant right next to me. Both of us surely have already passed
our yearly quota for vitamin C!
The leeks are still thriving, as are the jalapeno and poblano peppers.
The beets will stay put even beyond the first frost, rugged things that
they are. And the artichokes! My first attempt with them has gone beyond
all my expectations. The very last day of August, I was able to cut the
first creamy-green globes from their stalks and prepare them for dinner
that night. It was my sonís last night home before returning to college
and they are one of his favorite veggies, so it was great to be able to
have them. My husband and I have enjoyed them again and by the looks of
things, there may be several more to come.
I found that planting the sunflowers next to them, as well as setting
my container of tarragon amongst them did seem to help, though Iím not
quite sure yet just what benefits they provided. Artichokes do love the
heat and initially I surrounded each plant with black weed cloth so as to
absorb as much of the early summer sun as they could. Later on, as it got
increasing hotter, I covered the cloth with straw. The sunflowers being
planted on the western side of them seemed to provide beneficial shade
from the very intense, late afternoon sun. As to eating them, I typically
steam them or steam slightly and then cut them in half, remove the outer
leaves and the "hairy" choke and finish them on the grill. I make a lemon
butter sauce or a pesto mayonnaise to dip the edible leaf parts and that
tender, buttery choke in.
I have said many times that I wished June, July and August would crawl
by as slowly as January, February and March do. In thinking about it,
though, I realize it is all part of a plan of balance. Everything is timed
in accordance with our enthusiasm for it and it is no different with
gardening. With exercise, you need to stop and rest between repetitions
and so you should with gardening. I mean, why do you think they invented
Till next time, happy harvesting!