An Inconvenient Truth

To a food corporation, the deep, four-year long California drought is just a supply issue. Do they not want the customer to feel bad or resent them for not supplying us with lettuce? They reduce it to an "inconvenience," but it's so much more than that.

I don't think WF should downplay this serious, exceptional drought in a region that supplies a huge amount of our nation's produce as "a weather issue." The biggest brand name in food responsibility ought to be an educator. I think we're all brave enough to buy our vegetables and think about drought, to consider what it takes to feed us all so well, don't you?

Are you, grocer, brave enough?

Out Of The Woods

After a nearly four week visit to Minnesota, we've finally made it back to Brooklyn, leaving my father-in-law behind, in his house in the woods. It gets harder every time, for him and for us, to stay and to go. Winter is a hardship, yet it also puts a hold on nature's aggressive reclamation of his works, and its own. The apparent stasis, only more white or less, is an assurance against his decline, putting mortality on the table just long enough to consider your own strategy for facing it.

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I've made a few resolutions, not the New Year's type, but a generally longer lasting set of conditions upon which I live. It's a small list, targeted and specific.

• Grow and eat my own vegetables whenever possible.
• Buy vegetables at farmers' markets and our local co-op only.
• Buy only meat that I can be reasonably assured has been humanely raised and slaughtered.
• I will not drink any more soda, except the soda in my occasional gin and tonic.
• Only buy organic potatoes
• No more canned tomatoes

The first one is obvious, what more can be said. I think everyone who can, ought to. I also want to support our local farmers. As I made my rounds at the Grand Army Plaza market today I found too little produce available, especially organic. We've become so accustomed to all vegetables all the time, and I'm okay with that. So I think that we, including our government, need to encourage local farmers to make whatever investments necessary to get more local produce during the winter. Consider the California drought that has the potential to disrupt our food supply, particularly our winter greens. More investment in hoop houses and storage facilities would go a long way to increasing produce availability, particularly on those farms in the southern area of the local radius.

Meat. This has been on my plate a long time, but I cannot look at another image or read another story of disgusting, inhumane slaughter practices. If you haven't seen Food Inc., find it on Netflix streaming. I love pork, but I can't buy chops from pigs slaughtered by crushing them to death a hundred at a time. The label 'organic' is reasonably well understood in terms of feeding and health, but USDA Organic label says nothing of the way the animal has been slaughtered. Since corporations know how valuable the organic label is to the buyer, they have been working to drive the prices down and they do this by applying practices from non-organic production. My point is that USDA Organic isn't enough, but it's a sign post that can lead you in the right direction at the grocery. When possible I would rather buy meat raised locally, even if not strictly organic, as long as I can be reasonably assured that the animal was treated well in life and in death.  Buying the whole animal is the best way to keep the prices down and nobody I know can store the whole animal so that splitting among 4-6 couples seems to be the best practice. If anyone wants to go in on a whole pig with us, send me an email. 

Soda? Sure -I drink it. We were raised on this stuff. I should be 600 pounds. But I am not, and I want to keep it that way. Bloomberg and I can agree on this: we can cut out soda. 

Organic potatoes? I like to eat these whole, and when I do, they are a nearly perfect food. I grew some potatoes this past year on the farm and learned a good amount of what it takes to produce them. If you buy good quality seed potatoes, your biggest problem is going to be Colorado potato beetles. What do they do? They eat all the leaves, removing the capacity for the plant to grab the sun and turn it into tuber. The number one problem of organically grown potatoes is diminished yield due to these pests. Diminished yield drives up the cost to the buyer. Stores don't like high-priced potatoes, especially conventionally grown, so to keep yield up potato growers use lots and lots of chemicals, some systemic (meaning that the whole plant contains the toxins). Yield drives the cost difference between organic and conventional potatoes. Organic growers have little in their arsenal to fight the tenacious potato beetle, so we accept lower yields and higher prices. I refuse to eat systemically treated potatoes any longer and will buy only organic. This was really hard to accept today at the farmers' market because I also love to buy the different varieties that have become staples at the market, yet only the conventional growers had great variety. I didn't buy there, but found organic Yukon Gold at the co-op and organic purple sweet potatoes for $1.99 per pound. If you haven't had these smaller, sweet, intensely colored, eat the whole thing, sweet potatoes, you're missing out.

I've just used my last can of tomatoes. Canned tomatoes? Yes, now I will only purchase glass or BPA-free aseptic packaging (i.e. Pomi) although I'm sure I'll read something negative about the latter type someday soon. Since I've always been disturbed by the hidden chemistry of packaging and products, glass wins. I'll try not to break any.

Despite my new conditions, I lack an unreasonable rigidity. Notice that I am only talking about buying, not eating. When I am at a friend's house, I will not scour his pantry to ensure I am eating organic potatoes. When I am out at a restaurant I will not require inspection of their meats. These things are what I plan to do at home. While the list is small I feel that if I ensure that these conditions are met, the attitude will spread on to other things, organically.

Drought conditions across the United States over the last 6 months.

 

Garden Variety Drought

No one would consider our region in a real drought, but surely we are having another garden variety drought. No? One not unlike the period of, maybe, January through April? Summer rains are thunderstorm rains, which tend to be hit or miss. Here, it's been all miss, whereas Central Park may have seen a bit more hit.

We did have significant rain in May, which put most of our plants in better standing to deal with the utter lack of rainfall since June 12. Now, as I walk about, I see even some weedy plants beginning to slump their leaves until nightfall. Our garden, planted for only rain watering, is hanging in there, but is beginning to show the signs of stress. Although, our garden is hardly the worst of it.

The United States has broken the record for the warmest 12-month period on record. Last summer was the 2nd warmest on record, this winter the 4th warmest, and this spring was the warmest on record. This heat has been described as a one in 1.6 million event. Those are some odds. The middle country, anywhere from the mid-west of Missouri to the mid-east of Ohio to the south east of Georgia have been under severe to extreme drought conditions for some time. Record or near-record temperatures have exacerbated the problem.

I recently discovered that the farmer, Lou Pendleton, who grows the French Grey shallot sets that I plant, has lost his entire crop. Not just the shallots, mind you, but all his varieties of garlic too. Of course this didn't just happen, but has been in the slow and steady works since March. There simply wasn't enough rain to supply his unirrigated fields of sandy loam. The crop simply shriveled. This was his first serious loss in 13 years and he's discouraged.

A farmer of edible allium saves their seed for the next year.  When he loses his crop, he loses everything. The price of seed has gone up quite a bit since the early nineties and one would have to buy a lot to replace what has been lost. And then there is the issue of disease, as one always buys new stock without total confidence.

A Yard Grows In Brooklyn

It may not look like much right now, but the side yard is about to find itself this year. Thanks to my landlord's decision to move his utility poles, we decided to revamp the messy and overgrown plot. I curved our pathway around the building, sending us to where the poles used to rest. Now we can plant in the area we used to use to step over the fence. Farther down is a gate, a broken gate, but a gate. We plan on planting the strip nearer the fence, leaving the side near the building (always under threat from landlordian ideas) as a walking path.

I moved all the iris (the reblooming iris) to the back side of the poor man's patio, intending them to keep the sleeping cats at bay and support the leaning monkshood and phlox that dwell so well under the remaining yew tree. A stump is all that remains of the other yew tree cut after heavy snows two winters back. It is the fulcrum of the planting against the wall, where most plants were divisions from the front yard garden. The dirt patch, where the iris used to reside, will be filled with low to medium height, drought tolerant perennials like the coneflower, lily, yarrow, thrift, tickseed, solidago and ironweed that are already growing here. I removed the 10-foot-tall-growing maximillian sunflower, banishing it to the beach farm fence line. This move I call a 'happy neighbor.'

There are many volunteers, including asters, bachelor button, cosmos, borage, and allyssum that self-seed every year. In between the stones are a variety of sedum -we just bought three quart-sized varieties at Gowanus the last rainy Sunday morning. We're thinking of blue flax for the new strip, a plant admired by both Betsy and I, a western plant, not well known or understood here in the northeast. We asked the nursery if they would carry it so we don't have to mail order ridiculous little pots for the price of a gallon from High Country Gardens or some such place.

We concentrate on drought tolerant because we both know prairie and desert plants well, but also because we don't have easy access to watering and like to leave town on occasion, never having to worry about finding a watering neighbor with a 100 foot hose. The creatures seem to dig them too. The asters become a bit weedy, but they are so easy to dispose. Roses are incredibly drought tolerant and the same for our irises, dicentra, and monkshood. But that doesn't mean if it shouldn't rain for weeks on end, I am not out there with my water can, hoofing the distance forty times. Very little (that anyone actually likes) can withstand all-out drought. This season we are short about 8 inches of rain, but then, that could change in a moment. I wouldn't feel uncomfortable predicting a cooler, wetter summer than usual, but either way, the garden should be up to it.

Earth To Iris

It smelled like rain, it even looked a bit like rain, but there was little if any rain.

The first iris has bloomed. The weather we've been having seems conducive to a really long bloom. I've seen forsythias still in bloom and the pink-flowered tree across the street has been flowering way longer than I am used to seeing.

Eastern Redbud, Cercis canadensis

Early Bird

This morning, while stepping out to move our vehicle, I noticed a group of house sparrows, fat as they are around here, fluttering about the shrub rose. I can't recall ever seeing any birds in the garden, so I thought it odd.

Keeping to the driver's seat, I then watched them move over to the New Dawn climber, this time pecking at the tips of newly formed rose buds. Aphids, of course. But why would these birds suddenly be taking an interest in aphids? They are always there, but again, I have yet to see any local birds care to be about these thorny bushes.

Then it hit me. They, the proverbial canary, are reacting to the utter lack of water in the neighborhood. Aphids are, not unlike last summer's tomatoes in that nasty hot and dry spell, a water source in times of scarcity.

We are in the midst of a garden drought -my coinage for drought conditions gardeners face when it doesn't seriously rain for such an extended period that we become deeply concerned yet the greater population has not begun to notice. With such glorious sunny days and full reservoirs, what's to notice? But a gardener's drought is often a farmers' drought, becoming a local foodie drought. And we wouldn't want that. So, even though no significant rain is forecast for the next ten days, I for one am hoping that forecast is mistaken.

Sparrows doing their good work.

Need Nothing

This plant, Aconitum or Monkshood, literally needs nothing. It is located under a yew tree. I never water it and the rain never makes it to the ground it's planted in. Yet it never complains. The phlox next to it, complains a little. That monk is an ascetic for sure, wants for nothing.

Cold Comfort

It looks like this weekend, Saturday particularly, is our greatest chance for some rain. It's been over three weeks since my garden has seen any rain and that was maybe a 1/2-inch downpour. That kind of rain is not the best, unless it is particularly long lasting. Short bursts of heavy rain tend to run off my exceptionally dry soil -straight to the sidewalk and street.

This has been an exceptional June, early July -I believe the record heat of the last few days convinced us of that. In exceptional times, I must do exceptional things -like water the part of the garden that does not dwell in pots (these of course, always require it). Given how hot it has been, I feel the garden has done well -only the phlox, sidewalk's edge eupatorium, and late-transplanted cosmos have shown up with wilty leaves. But there are other signs of heat stress -the spider mites, the yellow blotchy leaves of anything aster, or the browning of the hydrangea and hosta leaves. So I water, water, water with my watering can (more of a pitcher than a can). And because these are exceptional circumstances, I still get to say that I hardly ever water my garden not in pots.

The upshot to all this heat and drought, however, is that the Asian Tiger mosquitoes have been very diminished since their first significant appearance in early June. In fact, while watering this evening I should have been swarmed by them, but I was not, at all, I didn't even think about mosquitoes. So it may be hot as hell, but at least the buggers are not buggering.

And Again Tomorrow

My personal weather station (uh, thermometer outside) says it's 84.5 degrees F. When I look up zip code 11218 on the weather underground I get zip code 11215 -close enough and it reads 85.5 degrees F. Lately, the New York, NY station used by weather underground has been suggesting pleasant weather to Manhattanites. Tonight it's a pleasant 76.8 degrees F, dew point 33 degrees, humidity 20% -fabulous, a desert night. Yet they are forecasting 101 degrees for Manhattan this Tuesday with dew points in the high 60s (they'll feel that). As the dew point approaches the air temperature, one feels the moisture. If it rises along with the temperature, say into the high 60s -hello steam bath.

But I digress. Fix that erroneous weather station please. It's supposed to be hotter in Manhattan and no manner of powerful suggestion can overcome this heat. Tomorrow I water -again.

UPDATE: The New York, NY station has been changed to Hunter College. And it reads as it should, 88.2 degrees F this morning. My thermometer reads 93 degrees F at 9:10 am. The weather station is telling me 94.3 degrees -that's pretty hot for 9 am in Brooklyn. As the high pressure slides off the coast, the air flow will become more southerly, less hot, and more humid. I think that will feel worse than this hot and dry air mass. Yuck.

Rain

A band of rain is on its way. I love the rain scented air on a mild day. I went outside and the drizzle had already begun. This is good, because it really has been dry. This month we've had about 3/4 inch of rain and normally we'd be near 2 1/2 inches. Let's hope this is not a sign of the season to come.

Image Courtesy of Wunderground.com