The slugs have returned. I have seen their work on my potato plants and this means war. Step one, clear out all the mulch that I’ve been too lazy to take out. Step two, buy a 24 pack of cheap, terrible beer with which to set my traps. Step three, purchase Sluggo and keep it on deck if needed. I hope that I won’t need to use it, but if it becomes as bad as it was last year, it will be necessary to ensure the survival of my plants. However, because iron phosphate is poisonous for dogs, I can only use it in the back garden where Rosie’s lead doesn’t reach. This makes the need for a complex network of beer traps all the more necessary.
Meanwhile, a blight has struck inside my house on my seedlings. My cilantro and basil won’t stand up; they wilt this way and that, lolling around. Meanwhile, the soil and the leaves of my established plants have some sort of white mold growing on them. My garden encyclopedia and my internet research suggest the seedlings are damping off, which is some sort of fungal condition. It is likely because I planted the seedlings in egg shells and they were too wet without any drainage. Derp.
I’ve been doing a lot of research this week on gardening, taking notes and making plans that will hopefully have more success than the experiments I’ve tried so far. If this were the Great Depression, my family would not have the time to wait for me to figure this out. We’d already be starving.
When I interviewed my Great Aunt Nor, she talked about how the garden kept the family afloat when her father was laid off. GG Kinglsey was an excellent cook and fed the family with the garden they’d built out back. It’s going to take some time for me to learn enough to even begin to match her. To make myself feel better about all my plants dying, I may end up doing some cooking or sewing this week.