A few months ago I wrote a column about how I was going to do my part to preserve the planet by saving and using bacon grease. I was quite surprised by the number of folks who had a similar affection for bacon grease and the memories that it dredged up from their childhood.
I received e-mails from a variety of people of who still enjoy a big platter of "taters and onions" fried in those delightful drippings from a pan of crispy bacon. The notes came from campers, hunters, fishermen and grannies scattered across northern Michigan and even from the Upper Peninsula. It was a joy to hear from so many people who, like me, wanted to patch the hole in the ozone and free us from global warming.
I was hoping for a few thank-you notes from some of our local cardiologists but they were silent on the matter.
When I started putting my thoughts down on paper for that column, I was deeply involved in another project. Throughout our last painfully long winter I spent many an evening trying to figure out how I could contribute even more to the global cause in addition to my bacon grease conservation effort.
One night the snow was blowing and the wind howling across the frozen lake. I was sitting in my overstuffed chair, staring into the fireplace and enjoying its radiant warmth when it finally came to me. I decided that in the spring I would plant a garden. What a stroke of genius!
Due to the limited size of our property and the shade from the many trees, finding a good spot for this venture required much deliberation. Eventually I worked through the process and decided on a spot between our house and garage. I concluded that a raised bed would be the key to success. This is a gardening method that must be credited to the French and is sometimes referred to as "intensified gardening." In a nutshell this means getting the most production out of a limited amount of garden space.
My first attempt at northern gardening would be considered an experiment. I thought of it as a trial run, which hopefully would result in bushels of fresh veggies, free for the picking. Finally I would be able to do my part for the cause and save some money as well.
I decided to build the raised bed a little higher than normal. My idea was that maybe its added height would keep Thumper and his friends away from the temptation to devour all of my crops. Besides, I wouldn't have to bend over as far. I built the bed out of old cedar planking that was donated to me by a neighbor who was cleaning out his garage. The finished product was a box measuring 4-by-6 feet and 2 feet deep.
I was proud of the end result and drafted a friend to help carry it out of the workshop to its resting place. I lined the open bottom with vegetation matting to keep weeds from growing and then began the task of hauling home 40-pound bags of potting soil, composted cow manure and topsoil. Fifty bags later the garden bed was filled and ready to go.
Now if it would only warm up.
Spring was slow in coming. I occupied myself looking for seeds, bedding plants and onion sets. I bought fertilizer and even a bag of organic bone meal. I was ready to dig into that beautiful black dirt and start farming!
Mother's Day passed and on Memorial Day I took the plunge and started sowing the crops. I took a keen interest in the weather reports, which often required me to cover up the bed at night due to the dreaded frost warnings. After several weeks of daily inspections and watering as needed, I spied a bit of green. My radish seeds had sprouted!
It didn't take long for me to realize that I needed more room to plant everything that I wanted to grow. I began adding big pots in sunny places and soon had tomatoes, zucchini, cucumbers added to my "victory garden."
Weeks passed and the green beans and sugar-snap peas eventually germinated. The green pepper plants sprouted little flowers and then developed a few small peppers. I continued to nurture the plants, pulled the few weeds, and doused them with an occasional feeding of Miracle Gro. The radish plants produced some great tops but the radishes were about the size of a small pea. My patio tomato plants produced beautiful green tomatoes but, as they began to ripen, some critter ate them. My cucumbers are about the size of a baby gherkin pickle and my zucchini look like cocktail weenies.
I am not alone. I've see real farmers interviewed on the news and talking about how slow the crops are growing due to the late spring and cool summer. Our weather gurus tell us that it has something to do with El Niño and the jet stream and are predicting cool weather right into fall. Hmmm, and I thought I was growing this garden to help plug the ozone hole, shrink my carbon footprint and reduce global warming. Clearly Mother Nature was not on my side. Oh well, this was a trial run and I'm confident next year will bring bigger and better crops.
Ed Hungness and his wife owned their cottage on Fife Lake for six years before moving there after his retirement in 2005. He can be reached at edhungness@yahoo.com. For more of Ed's columns, log on to record-eagle.com/edhungness.
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