With the temperatures dipping back down into the 20s tonight, the cabbage transplants had to go under cover. Yesterday evening, I cut the bottoms off of 10 bits of waste plastic which had been carefully saved by me, my parents, my sister, and my neighbor. (People are remarkably generous with their trash if you ask politely and explain your need.)
Seven were gallon-sized milk jugs and three were two-liter soft-drink bottles, the latter requiring a knife to cut. Granddaddy fully approves of planting cabbages early in the season… early enough to risk losing them. Frost only sweetens the taste of cabbage, and they are quite resistant to the cold in general. But brand-new transplants probably shouldn’t be exposed to these temperatures plus tonight’s high winds.
He’d told me before to immediately cover the baby cabbages with empty milk jugs, which have the added benefits of raising the outside temperature a degree or two to encourage strong early growth, protecting the maturing cabbages from marauding insects, and helping them to form a compact head if the temperatures are not chilly enough to make it happen naturally.
I suppose the idea is basically like a poor man’s cloche, only instead of a lovely dome of glass or a synthetic lookalike, these are, well, let’s just say not so aesthetically pleasing. And I’m just finicky enough about how the kitchen garden looks, even in this time when it looks nearly empty (it is not, but looks it), that I refused to put the carefully hoarded plastic stash to use when I put in the first transplants.
But, oh, well, a girl’s got to do what a girl’s got to do. I refuse to potentially lose half of my poor cabbages because I thought, in effect, that their scarves were an ugly color. I can be practical, even if the result is not pretty. (What you can’t see is how my lips are pinched as I type that sentence.)
To make the whole ordeal less sordid, however, I did go outside after the moon was well up, gorgeous and bright with a soft blue nimbus in that cold air, and request protection and maybe some extra love for my darlings who are now swaddled in yucky plastic, asking that this early undercover stint be followed by jaw-droppingly beautiful, barely-nibbled, magnificent, dew-spangled heads later in the season. I pictured them for a moment rather like pimply, whiny, superficially-minded preteens swathed in baby fat who end up as ravishing, emotionally-mature young adults with deep thoughts and wonderful ideas for saving the world. (Hey, it does happen, and more often than you’d think! I’ve seen it several times, and it always gives me cause for hope.)
As you can see from the photograph taken when I peeked inside this morning, so far, so good.
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I love that your granddad has such good advice. What a great idea to use milk jugs, even if they are not particularly beautiful ;^)
Noelle/azplantlady´s last blog ..Signs of Spring in February
Me, too, Noelle. I’d never have a clue without him about so many garden truths.
I attempted to grow winter turnips on the deck under sheeting plastic- but they didn’t make it until the snow melted. oh well… I also have to put them under hardware wire to keep the possums n squirrels away- Never heard of the plastic jugs trick- sometimes I use the bottoms to put houseplants in so water doesn’t drip all over…
SnaggleTooth´s last blog ..Storm Tide
SnaggleTooth, I’m sorry to hear that about the turnips. Here, turnips and their greens are practically a no-fail autumn crop — but I hate them! I used to grow them for my mother when I lived near her, but now that it’s just me and F., I only grow things one or both of us enjoy.
Dear Meredith, There is always a battle between what is aesthetically pleasing and what is practical. Console yourself that the plastic does not have to remain in situ for the whole growing season and, think how much you are going to enjoy eating those cabbages when they are fully grown. No matter how I try my subscription to your site does not seem to work [no problem with the old one] so will now look every day.
Have a happy weekend.
Edith Hope´s last blog ..Sleeper to the Serenissima
Edith, that makes me so sad to hear. I have no idea what would be causing it. I’ve subscribed to my own feed in the reader, just to track it and make sure it’s functional — and I’ve had no problems. Can you tell me, are you using an RSS, RSS 2.0, or Atom feed when you subscribe? Maybe I can find out more about the problem and possible solutions…
You are right, I really ought to be focusing on the vision of slaw and stir-fries and my first attempts at sauerkraut, and not on the vision of milk jugs dotting the landscape.
Your granddaddy sounds like such a wise man and what a wonderful gardening family you have with your parents, too. Those cabbages are in excellent loving hands.
Lynn´s last blog ..Special greeter, happy accident and joyous
Lynn, my parents do seem to be unrecognized gardeners; well, both grew up in households with green thumbs all around. But neither of them has much activated their interest yet, mostly due to the time constraints of career, etc. (Raising us took a fair bit of time and energy, too, I suspect.)
Mom has said she’ll put in a garden when she retires this coming year, and Dad has expressed a vague interest in growing tomatoes this summer (also nearing retirement, official in June), so I’ll be watching to see if the passion grabs either of them late in life.
Good luck and hope they get through the cold! I’ve read a lot about frost sweetening up veg, especially parsnips and kale. I’ve opted to plant my kale towards the end of summer, so I should get it frosted up towards the end of 2010!
The Idiot Gardener´s last blog ..You’re just a bunch of amateurs!
Thanks for the good luck wishes. They seem to have come through last night unscathed, knock on wood.
Here’s to a sweet crop of frost-kissed kale for you in the fall!
Meredith I love your new site! Great look and title. It is so true about certain members of the Brassicaceae family enjoying a bit of frost . . . and that said frost does sweeten them up . . . just ask my deer who always wait to munch on my crop of broccoli, cabbage and kale till late fall when the chill has touched their leaves. I understand about the aesthetics too . . . but those jugs do make the perfect one plant conservatory. Good luck with your babies. Carol
Carolflowerhillfarm´s last blog ..Still Blue While Piggy’s In The Pink To Black and White Flitting
Thank you, Carol. I really appreciate the feedback.
That’s such a fun detail about the deer waiting to munch until the frost has come — although I doubt you find it at all funny when it happens! And nor will I. (Is there any measure of humane/non-chemical protection, I wonder? We did have deer issues last spring, as well as groundhog, raccoon, chipmunk and rabbit problems. The rabbits and chipmunks are pretty much under control now with Leo on patrol, but the others are not deterred by a kitty cat, I’m afraid.)
Perhaps the jugs are a good idea, after all.
Hi Meridith, I do the same with the plastic milk jugs. I save them from year to year. For the tomatoes I have some “wall of waters”. How exciting that you have been able to get into the dirt. I am waiting. We are still snow covered, but melting.
GloriaBonde´s last blog ..Gardeners are Creative
Do you, Gloria? I suppose I would save these except that, well, when we move I don’t want to pack anything extra.
I’ve heard of those wall of waters, and I think they must be invaluable in places where you don’t have the required number of hot days for those heat-loving plants — not a problem we have here in SC.
I think I’d be dying of pent-up frustration if my garden was still snow-covered. As a southern gal, I’m too used to getting an early start on spring.
Meredith, You’re such a good writer! And so right about those duplicitous plastic monstrosities that much to our consternation are required security measures for our babies. They really are butt ugly. I hope the Garden Accessories Entrepreneurs are listening. Surely if we can put a man on the moon, somebody, somewhere can come up with an inexpensive, eye candy cloche. How hard can it be???
I look forward to seeing Cabbage Patch morph into the Gwynth Paltrows of the hort world.
Grace, I appreciate the compliment so much! That is my favorite compliment, you know.
Surely somebody can come up with something better… but I doubt if they’ll come up with something free, using our cast-offs. That is the one great advantage of the jugs; today a friend even provided me with an additional one, when she finished a gallon of iced tea. (I’ve put the word out.
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There’s nothing wrong with yucky plastic poor-man’s cloches…not when you awaken to healthy cabbage transplants. It looks like they did the trick. No worries, your pimply pre-teen brassicas will be stunning cabbage plants in no time!
Curbstone Valley Farm´s last blog ..Dutch Master Daffodil
You’re right, of course, CV. I think I’m a bit of a snob for beauty. I feel properly chastised and encouraged all in one comment.
From their plastic domes, will rise your beauties. My Mom used to say, “Damn the esthetics, save the plants!” But there is definitely a need for a good looking system that makes a gardener smile as they protect their babies and not wince.
Talon´s last blog ..Winterscape…
I love how you put that, Talon. Your Mom and my grandfather would definitely see eye to eye. Maybe the wincing is my own defect — but I will brave it out for the beauties to come.