The Fink Farm Dirt

The first time I ever saw a bug hotel was in the yard of my nephew's house.  His wife, Kay, is one of the best urban homesteaders I've ever met. Her bug hotel was about the size of a Victorian doll house, had a moss roof and was work of art. I was enchanted. A bug house (or hotel) provides winter habitat for beneficial insects who, in turn, swarm awake in the spring, lay eggs and sweep your organic garden clear of aphids and mites. That's the theory anyway. "I first learned about bug/pollinator houses when taking a hike at a preserve, " Kay said. "They had a huge bug house on display.  It was really like a functional piece of artwork." Although she always wanted to create one, it wasn't until some neighbors started complaining about carpenter bees and discussing sprays to kill them that she decided to get to work. Other neighbors, who were advocates for pollinators and native plants and had made their farm a pollinator haven, served as inspiration. W...

It hasn't been easy during the coronavirus shut-down to know what is open and what is not. The Fink farmers were certain that nurseries were closed. We shook our heads and murmured about how it looked like it was going to be a fallow year for the garden. Then -- overhearing gossip -- we learned that nurseries were open to those who wear masks and keep appropriate social distancing. Farmer Karen leapt into action and bought pony packs of tomatoes (Romas and cherry), marigolds, Italian basil and assorted lettuces. We're overstocked with tomatoes for the space we have -- and understocked with marigolds to keep the tomatoes free of bugs. We've taken a cross-your-heart, pinky-wrap vow to prune the tomato vines as the summer unfolds and to keep the suckers plucked.   We're also experimenting with growing a tomato plant in a pot with a Rube Goldberg arrangement to climb on. (One day we'll get around to putting masonry screws on the cinder block wall that ...

One day we were congratulating ourselves on our tomato harvest, and it seemed like the next minute the plants were turning brown and dying. To the best of our ability to discern (with the help of the Google Extension Service) , we have aphids. We noticed some dark colored insects flying around initially.   From Natural Living , I learned that of the more than 4,000 species of aphids, about 250 are a danger to crops. Sometimes called plant lice, these pests pierce the stems of plants to suck out nutrient-rich sap. In the process, they spread viruses and secrete a fluid that attracts sooty molds that can cover a plant's leaves and block the sun. The viruses they carry can kill potatoes, citrus fruits and grains. There was some good news in this article -- and some bad news. There are a number of things you can do to deter or get rid of them -- but some don't work in a water-starved area and others we've tried and we still have an infestation. Here were the suggestions:...

I can't stand the tell-tale signs of garden pests: the leaves with holes, the failure to thrive. I believe in early assault with organic deterrents. Kate has great faith in plants' commitment to survive.  She considers holes in leaves to be a mere cosmetic blemish. Like politics and religion, getting rid of pests in a garden is sure to cause a community donnybrook (or at least rapid words over ice water in the lounge chairs). To do organic warfare against pests means using one or more of these tools: