Fit for a Queen

The first step to building my insect hotel was to research what future residents I could hope to attract here in my central Texas yard.  I already have toads, wasps and lady bugs, but want more bees and lacewings.

I learned that most of the native bees in Texas are ground dwellers.  That meant that whatever nest I built would need to be very low.  I learned that bumblebees like to nest in old mouse holes.  On the Internet I found a lot of sites in the UK that sell bumblebee houses and a lot of chatter about their effectiveness.  Apparently the queen is not easily amused.  Here are the two best websites I found for constructing a nest.  http://tomclothier.hort.net/page38.html.  http://www.insecthouse.co.uk/insect-house-designs/bee-houses/

I had some old shelving and thought that it would make a good start for the project.  The bottom shelf of this unit was about the right dimensions for the two-chamber design.

I cut a piece of plywood for the back and front.  The idea is that the front will be hinged so I can clean it out when necessary.


Then I cut a block to divide the two chambers and drilled a hole in it.  This is what the queen can use to enter the nest.

I cut a piece of 1/2" pvc and painted it brown.  Then attached it with glue in between to blocks.  This will help simulate a dark mouse hole.

I drilled a hole in the door for the mouse hole entrance.  Of course I didn't get this lined up perfectly and had to chisel out the hole.  GRRR.

I used a screen door latch for the door.  And installed hinges with the tiniest screws.  I had to improvise to find a bit small enough to handle them.

Finally I drilled some ventilation holes and stapled some mesh over them to keep other bugs out.  I cut up an old bag I had for the squares.

I installed the shelving in between the two posts I had placed in the herb garden.  I made sure that it was facing southeast and four inches from the ground, as recommended.

I saved shavings from the front yard tree removal and put them in one side of the box.  I also threw in some cat hair - mouse holes are hairy, right?

Now I just have to wait.  Bumblebee queens start looking for housing in February.  I haven't seen any out in the yard - in fact I have rarely seen any bumblebees in the three years I have lived here.  I planted lavender next to the box to try to entice them in years to come.  If I can make the backyard a destination, perhaps some day her highness will deign to grant me the magnificence of her presence and raise a regal brood.

Building A House On My Own

Journey back with me, if you will, to 1982 to when I was 22 years old and teaching high school vocational agriculture.  I had talked my advisory board and principal into letting me build a greenhouse.

Oh mother, what did I get myself into.  I'd never really built anything outside of a chicken coop or two and here I was in a small rural high school trying to show people that a vo-ag teacher who ovulated was just as good as a man.  Better even.

So my Advanced Ag class and I set out to raise the roof on our greenhouse.  And we did it.  But oh, the sleepless nights I had working out structural problems and trying to brainstorm our next step.  The steps to erect it were simple enough, but lacking the discipline of making things level and straight, the boys and I had quite a time of it.  Eventually one of the neighboring farmers sent his foreman over to help me correct some mistakes.  He was very kind about it.  "Geez Sheryl, I can't believe you haven't asked for help!  You have your hands full with those boys.  You've done a great job.  Let me send my man over to help you square it up and you'll be done!"  Bless you Perry.

We did it get erected.  And the door closed.  And the heater working.  And the lights on.  And the fan inflated the walls to make the whole thing rigid and tight as a drum.  Success.  "We did it Ms Williams!"  We all stood and gawked at it, silently amazed that each of us could do such a thing.  It was a great moment and one that still makes me smile.

We soon had that greenhouse humming and stuffed full of plants.  My boys would drop in on the Horticulture class I taught to tell everyone that THEY had built the greenhouse.  "Remember Ms Williams when we put those hoops up?  And had to screw them together?"  We would laugh.  Silly us should have done it in the shop instead of on top of a ladder.  "Remember when we almost dropped the heater?  You should have seen the look on Ms Williams' face!" they would say.

I miss them.  And why this recollection?  Well, I'm building another house, but by myself this time.  I'm building an insect hotel.  Hopefully it will be something between this more rustic abode.

Photo from welshwildlife.org

And this swanky chateau from the Jardin des Plantes.

Photo from foodfromthesky.org.uk

I don't have a set of plans, just a series of photos and descriptions (in French of course, thank you Google Translate!)  Plenty for me to obsess about as I toss and turn.  But this time it will be different.  I am making sure things are level, that they fit together properly, and that the engineering makes sense.  Those long ago fall days with my ag boys have taught me to be a better builder.  Even if it's just for bugs.

As I dig my post holes and drill into blocks of wood, my eye catches some nearby movement.  It's my mockingbird friends who are wondering what I'm up to.  Do you think I could teach them to hold a measuring tape?  Looks like I'm not alone after all.

Moon Dance for Sprouting Carrots

Fava beans and snow peas doing well.

One of the many reasons I garden is for stress relief.  When I’m playing in the yard I can let my mind wander as I complete the chores and watch the antics of the inhabitants.  Today a mockingbird landed on a metal sunflower and scraped her beak repeatedly on the petals.  What a racket!

My decision to garden according to the Farmer’s Almanac schedule has changed all of that.  Now I have a schedule to keep!  With the same precision I must employ to navigate my work life, I now have to check in with the almanac to see what days I can plant seeds and transplants.  Often I have just a few days to get the work done unless I am willing to wait another week or so.  My first frost date is looming; if I don’t get everything in the ground and growing, I won’t have a fall harvest.

So is this extra pressure worth it?

Yes, so far.  You see - my carrots have sprouted.

I have always had a hard time with carrots.  I often have to plant multiple times and over-seed to get any to grow.  Carrot seeds like a lot of light in order to germinate.  I always fussed that I planted them too deep, or didn’t keep the seed bed damp enough, or just had a dud bunch of seed.

However this year, it was different.  I had some really old seed that I picked up at a master gardener meeting plus one packet that I purchased earlier in the year.  I held the “good” seed back, figuring it would be needed for the inevitable second planting.  I planted the carrots as directed – during the full moon, noting that the next window to plant wouldn’t occur for two weeks.

Imagine my delight to discover that the seeds sprouted in a little less than a week.

So was it the full moon?  Why not?  If carrots need light to germinate they certainly got a big dose of it during the day and night with that big orb in the sky.  And yes, it didn’t hurt that we got a bit of rain also, keeping the temperatures down and the bed moist.

I’m going to say this was a win for the Farmer’s Almanac.  My other crops of beans, peas and greens are also growing nicely.  The pole beans should start blooming later this week and I anticipate a first greens harvest in two weeks.  I also planted kohlrabi and some creeping thyme last weekend during the aboveground crops days as directed, although Cole crops or herbs were not mentioned.   A few of the kohlrabi have just begun to sprout.

I’m pretty much done with the vegetable planting.  Now all I have are some shrubs and perennials to get in.  Next day for planting is Sunday, October 21.  This is fine by me.  I am volunteering at our master garden tour on Saturday and hope to pick up a few items at the plant sale.  Won’t be able to plant them until Sunday anyway.  However I’ll need to make sure they all go in the ground because the next window isn’t until the 26th.

The pressure!

Gardening by the Moon

I am going to try something different this garden season; I am going to follow the planting advice from the Farmer’s Almanac.


I’ve been meaning to do it for a while just to see if it makes a difference.  There are many who swear by it and do well with it.  I know several farmers who refuse to budge without it and it has played a role in my family too.  But the question remains, isn’t the farmer’s almanac little more than the same hocus pocus that astrology is based upon?  Isn’t modern science and our ability to predict weather much more reliable?

In the 70’s when I bundled myself off to Oregon State University to get my agricultural education degree, farming by chemistry was king.  Whether it was plant or animal, manipulating biology with chemical additives “freed” farming from the capricious behavior of Mother Nature.  Who needed the moon when you had Monsanto?  I cheerfully participated by spraying pesticides and injecting hormones at every opportunity.  Organic was how the old people farmed because they just didn’t know any better.

Ah, youth.

So here I am, the same age as my grandfather at my earliest memory of knowing how old he was, poring over the farmer’s almanac.  And it’s not just me.  It is astounding to me that since I graduated from college in 1981 that the world of agriculture is slowly starting to pivot back to the sustainable practices of my grandfather’s time.  Turns out that chemistry wasn’t the end all answer.

Now please, don’t get me wrong.  I am not going to sit here on my nice couch and bash industrial agriculture.  After all, it is through the use of chemical fertilizer and pesticides that have enabled me to live in the city and work in an office instead of out in the fields like my grandparents.  It is also because of the industrialization of our food supply that we can stop thinking about where to find food and actually discuss the quality of it.

As a gardener, and someone who is not dependent on the land to provide me an income, I have a lot more freedom to choose and to consider the impact I am having on my health, the environment, the economy, and my role in the community.  Through my own gardening practices I have seen the benefit of turning away from chemicals and delving back into the natural cycle of life.  I have seen my crop yields increase as I put down the sprayer and actually attract more bugs, and thus more pollinators, into the garden.  Every day I open the newspaper to read about new assaults on the quality of our food supply.  Whether it is from genetic engineering or contamination.  People are dying from eating cantaloupe and spinach.  Scary stuff.

So I have become an advocate of organic methods.  Which is exactly what my grandparents were doing when they farmed.  And now I am going one step further and am trying to garden within the rhythm and influence of the moon.  After all, if that big satellite can cause the ocean to be tidal, isn’t it plausible that it have the same influence on everything else?

I planted my root crops yesterday per the almanac.  Carrots need a lot of light to germinate.  Is it any coincidence that I planted them at the full moon?  Hmm.  Stay tuned.

Congested Air Space

One of the things that makes me very happy is the number of butterflies in my back yard.

Gulf Fritillary butterflies getting a snack.

This spring during the Monarch migration, the backyard became hazardous.  As I gardened I was slammed into several times by wayward fliers.  I could seriously use an air traffic control tower or some guys on the ground guiding the Monarchs, Swallowtails and Gulf Fritillary fliers.

As a kid I was lucky to be surrounded by Monarchs.  In the 60’s the orchards and pastures in Southern Oregon all had masses of milkweed and it was one of the northern ranges on the migratory route.  All of us would raise caterpillars in jars and watch them hatch into those glorious creatures.  Our third grade teacher must have raised thousands in her classroom and instilled in each of her students an awe and appreciation for the whole cycle.

Imagine my delight to discover that my new home in Texas was right in the path of the migration.  I immediately began planting milkweed for the caterpillars and mistflower, zinnias, and other flowers for the adults.  The first spring saw just a few passer-bys but this year I had several and hatched out at least two batches of adults.

Sadly, I watched most of this from my window.

Unfortunately, I had another type of congestion – I came down with allergies really bad.   At first I didn’t know what it was.  I just thought I was losing my health.  I kept getting bad colds or bronchitis and my energy was zero.  I lost all interest in playing in the yard and had to drag myself to things I normally enjoyed.  My boss also seemed to be suffering and we teased each other about passing germs.  When he was finally diagnosed with allergies and put on medication, I was politely ordered to make an appointment.  He was right.  Testing revealed that I am officially allergic to my cat, dust mites, and tree/grass pollen.  Lucky me.

So now I’m on a drug cocktail to alleviate my symptoms and it is just in time for fall gardening.  I feel so much better!  Just the other day I was back out there getting my vegetable beds ready for planting.  I was weeding near the mist flowers when WHAM, I got biffed by a Monarch.  They are on their way back to Mexico.

Glad to be back.  A little butterfly wing dust never hurt anyone.

Ceding the Battle

This weekend I pulled up most of my vegetable garden and threw it in the compost bin.

Am I crazy?

Done for the summer

In Oregon, July 5 meant that summer had usually arrived.  The vegetable garden was in high gear and the tomatoes were ready to blush.  Here in Austin, it means that I am done until fall.  It’s taken me two years to accept this.

It doesn’t help that I get cheerful emails from Territorial Seed Company reminding me to start seeding in the last of the summer vegetables and start thinking of starting the winter garden.  Even though they are targeting the message for my Zone 8 garden (the same zone as Portland, Oregon by the way), putting in seed right now is insane.

Part of the issue is the heat.  Even though we’ve had a couple of rainy thunderstorms, the relentless Texas sun stresses all living things; native or not.   Many of my plants wilt during the day, as they are not able to keep up with the water loss.  Surprisingly, it is possible to over water plants during this time.  I have really had to learn that just because something is wilting doesn’t mean that the ground is dry.

But in the case of the vegetable garden, stressed plants are primary beacons for pests.  As soon as things get warm out there I am plagued with white flies and spider mites.  I usually try to battle against them at first will water blasts.  But as soon as that begins to fail I call it quits.  Part of my goal with gardening is to be in tune with the natural environment.  If plants are too stressed to fight off bugs, using pesticides – even if organic – seems silly.  Best thing to do is to make compost.

I will try to keep a few things alive that like the heat.  I have a couple of okra plants, eggplant, some squash and a few tomatoes that I can water for most of the summer and still get produce.  So for summer, which is like winter for me, we buy most of our fresh produce at the store.  If I have done canning we eat it during the summer, not winter.

I am lucky here in Austin.  Even though the summer is very oppressive, the winter is glorious.  I start planting greens, carrots, broccoli, onions, beans and whatever else looks good at the end of September.  I use row covers if it looks like a freeze and can make it through most cold snaps.

So even though my Oregon DNA is screaming at me to get out there and garden, I’ll just hide in the house and sit under the fan.  Some battles just aren’t worth fighting.

Wordless Wednesday - Firecracker Fern

Russelia equisetiformis, R. juncea