Fruits & Vegetables – The Cottage Wife

Well, year two in the veggie garden is nearly complete! Overall, I’d say it was much more successful than last year - but as with any gardening adventure, I still had my fair share of wins, losses, lessons, and curiosities. This post is partly a record for myself (because heaven knows I won’t remember half of it by spring), but mostly it’s for you - because if you’re also out there experimenting with your little patch of dirt, you’ll know you’re not alone. So grab a cup of tea (and a slice of zucchini loaf if you have one handy) and let’s dig in. What We Changed In an effort to control the pest damage - and to hopefully get a jump start on the season - Brian built permanent frames for three of our now four raised beds. As a trial, we covered one with poly (leftover vapour barrier from the garage build, because frugal is our middle name). It worked beautifully. The soil was consistently at least six degrees warmer than the uncovered beds, and that’s a huge jump on spring planting here on the Bruce Peninsula, where the growing season feels like two good months between frost warnings. The frames also have interchangeable covers, so we can switch between poly and bug netting depending on the season. The bug netting was a lifesaver in the intense sun this summer, breaking just enough heat to keep the plants alive while still letting in plenty of light. And - bonus - it didn’t rip once. That’s more than I can say for my favorite garden gloves. We also added two shallow/narrow beds at the back of the house. Spoiler: not everything loved that setup, but more on that later. Wins Garlic I got beautiful hardneck garlic this year. It’s still curing, so I haven’t tasted it yet, but the bulbs are perfectly formed. Maybe a little small, but a massive improvement over last year’s sad attempt. I have high hopes for some homegrown roasted garlic this fall. Carrots, Beets & Radishes Carrots were a delight this year! Last year, bugs decimated them. This year? They only attacked one giant carrot, leaving the rest to grow fat and happy. I even kept one bunny very happy with all the tops. (It’s not really sucking up to your employer if you feed their rabbit, is it?) Beets and radishes were experimental this year. The beets are still on the small side, but they taste wonderful. Radishes? Spicy little gems - my Brother-in-law claimed them to be even better than their favourite market garden’s product! Both get a seat at the wins table. Greens Spinach and I remain at odds. That’s fine - I’m not its biggest fan anyway. But kale and chard? Glorious! At one point, I had more greens than two people could possibly eat. Not wanting the rabbit to get all the bounty, I dehydrated some into greens powder and froze some as smoothie cubes. Lesson learned: it takes a mountain of fresh greens to make a half cup of powder. I will never complain about the price of store-bought greens powder again. Of course, bugs eventually found the kale and destroyed it in two days flat - even under cover. Apparently, kale is the chocolate cake of the bug world. Thankfully, they left my swiss chard mostly alone, which is fine because I love it. Beans Bush beans were a moderate win. Out of six plants, only three survived, but those three have been producing steadily since July. Just enough to toss a handful into meals each week. Next year, I’ll give them more space and see if that helps. Zucchini Two spindly plants out of four seeds looked like they wouldn’t make it, but somehow they pushed out six lovely zucchinis. That’s one cake, a couple stir-fries, and some roasted to top a salad. Not a bumper crop, but still a win compared to last year’s zero. The shallow bed likely cramped them, so next year I’ll give zucchini its own real estate. It deserves it. Tomatoes Ah, tomatoes. Better than last year (which is a low bar). I got fruit! But… the texture is kind of mushy and they’re slow to ripen. I’ve heard the same complaint from other gardeners in the area, so maybe it’s just this year’s weather. Since they’re not ideal for slicing, I’ve been freezing them to turn into sauce later. It feels like a gamble, but hey - homemade tomato sauce makes you feel like an Italian nonna, even if your tomatoes were less than perfect. Herbs Herbs finally thrived! Sage, rosemary, and basil all did beautifully. Basil especially - so much that I’m plotting ways to keep it alive over winter. Last year, I overwintered herbs in the garage (they survived, though I was afraid to use them after a fuel spill left them breathing in the fumes). This year, I’ll try a three-pronged approach: some in the compost bin (they somehow survived there last year too!), some in the garage, and some in the house with me. If nothing else, I’ll have a good experiment to report on. Losses Broccoli I think broccoli and I are breaking up. I’ve tried the “broccolini-style” variety, hoping for smaller, steady harvests. Instead, I got tiny stems that never amounted to a meal. I did dry some leaves and blended them into the greens powder before the bugs got them, so at least nothing was wasted. Cabbage I took a chance on six cabbage plants from the garden centre. Never again! (probably) The bugs - or rather, their eggs were absolutely horrifying. Three plants were pulled out in disgust, and the other three are limping along, barely baseball-sized. I’ll probably stick to coleslaw mix from the farmers’ market, thank you very much. Cucumbers, Squash & Cucamelon They didn’t germinate at all. Not one. Except for a single cucamelon that made it to marble size before some critter took a bite. I’m undecided on whether to try again next year. Maybe. Probably. Gardeners are eternal optimists, after all. Edamame I gave edamame a shot, but foolishly planted it between tomato plants. Two teeny pods appeared, dried out, and that was that. I’ll give it another chance, but next time it’s getting prime real estate to be more fair to it. Lessons Self-Watering Raised Beds The self-watering beds are a solid win. Last year, I wasn’t sure if they were doing much. This year, during one of the hottest, driest summers I can remember, they consistently held moisture just below the surface. I watered at the very beginning of the season for seed germination, then only a handful of times afterward. That alone probably saved my modest crops from total disaster. I’m already excited to amend the soil with compost this fall and see how they perform next year. I will have to remember to water the potted plants regularly though - I kind of forgot about them. Spacing Square-foot gardening is not my friend. I love the theory of maximizing every inch, but in practice, it feels like I’m suffocating the plants. Zucchini, in particular, needs room for the roots and to sprawl. I’ll need to space out my planting better in the spring too, so I can stagger the greens so they don’t all mature at the same time. Also, the marigolds - supposedly planted to help with pests - will not go in the main beds next year. I do not remember marigolds being that huge when I was a kid so I was generous with the planting of them. They turned out to be pretty looking slackers and they do not deserve the real estate they used. I’ll probably put them in pots beside the beds and give the food more room to grow. Next year’s plan: fewer experiments, more of what we actually eat, and enough space for each plant to thrive. And maybe one more planter for the squash family. (Brian, if you’re reading this - please and thank you.) Curiosities Even with covers, bugs still found their way in. They’re basically ninjas. This fall, I’ll try adding more diatomaceous earth and monitoring more regularly. Another curiosity: the sheer resilience of some plants compared to others. Why did my sad, yellowed zucchini cling to life and give me six fruits, while my pampered cucumbers ghosted me completely? And just how did the oregano, mint and lemon balm magically survive our wicked winter abandoned in the compost heap? Gardening keeps you humble. You never really know what will happen until it does. Wrapping It All Up So, year two wasn’t perfect - but it was progress. I’m learning, adjusting, and slowly figuring out what works in my little corner of the woods. Some lessons are practical (give zucchini more space, broccoli isn’t worth the heartache, herbs like weird experiments). Some are bigger life lessons: Growth takes patience. Sometimes survival is a bigger victory than abundance. Bugs (literal or metaphorical) will always find their way in, so you may as well plan for them. And no matter how much you plot, plant, and prepare - nature gets the final say. But gardeners are eternal optimists, so even as I harvest the last of this year’s chard and tomatoes, I’m already plotting year three. Poly tunnels will go up on all three beds as soon as the snow melts. At least half a bed will be devoted entirely to everbearing strawberries - because they earned it. Fewer but better-spaced tomatoes and beans will get a chance to shine. Marigolds will be demoted to pots. And I’ll plant more beets and radishes - and earlier this time - because they’ve proven their worth. Will it all go according to plan? Of course not! Nature will laugh at me, bugs will sneak in no matter what, and some experiment will surely fail spectacularly. But that’s half the fun. Each season brings a mix of surprises and small triumphs that feed not just my belly but also my soul. So here’s to year three! May the garlic be bigger, the tomatoes less mushy, the zucchinis bolder - and may I always be curious enough in the garden to keep learning.