Hearing Voices in the Garden

Be careful not to step on the vines.

Heirloom Squash Sometimes Surprise

My grandmother's voice is in my head as I harvest an abundant crop of heirloom squash.  Her saved seeds, passed from her mother to her and from her to me, are producing an an incredible rate and, as I reach into the bowels of Squash Central, I hear her voice, cautioning me to take care as I step among the tender plants to snip a summer cucurbit from its hiding place.  

Granny's White Cukes Grow on Tender Vines

I hear those same words when I carefully brush aside cucumber leaves to seek tiny white cucumbers growing beneath the thick foliage.  Many previous generations of my family grew these same cucumbers; I do not know how old the seeds are, but they are true heirlooms.  With a bright, almost citrus flavor, they are delicious pickled, processed in cold soup or just sliced and served fresh with a pinch of salt.  

Kill it.

Growing food without using chemicals to kill insect pests can be challenging.  Not all bugs in the garden are bad; some, like lady beetles, actually help control others that destroy plants.  As a child, my maternal grandmother took me into her garden classroom, a magical place where sunflowers towered over my head, cherry tomatoes were better-than-candy treats and bean and peanut blossoms rivaled orchids for beauty.  As a past-middle aged adult, when I encountered insects in my organic garden, I could hear Granny's voice, telling me which bugs were "good" and which were "bad."  I followed her instructions, squashing Mexican bean beetles, Colorado potato bugs and Squash beetles with my gloved fingers and searching under plant leaves for tiny eggs laid by these pests.  

Be careful with the bean vines.

Green beans.  Snap beans.  White Mountain Half-Runners.  No matter the name, these beans were a family diet staple when I was a child.  The original seeds came from Germany when my great-great-great grandmother, Mary "Polly" Schmidt Bolch, immigrated to the United States, packed them in her belongings and later passed them to her daughters.  My grandmother, mother and aunt spent countless hours, stringing and breaking bushels of these beans before canning them in quart jars in Granny's pressure canner.  Granny alone picked the beans, but when I was five years old, she took me to her bean rows and taught me how to carefully remove beans from vines, taking care not to break tender green tendrils and showing me how to gently guide sticky ends to climb the poles and twine that supported them.  When I pick those same beans today, I hear Granny's voice as I lift sections of vine and I use both hands to harvest, leaving the vines undamaged and ready to produce more beans.  

See that spot?  That's an eye.  Don't cut through the eye.
 

Seed potato with prominent eyes

Although I most often hear my grandmothers' voices in the garden, when it comes to preparing seed potatoes for planting, it is my paternal grandfather who patiently explained the process to me and it is his voice I hear as my adult hands slice tubers.  When he first showed me an "eye," I imagined the potato as a creature that could see from every angle.  He guided my childish fingers, trusting that I could safely wield the sharp knife to cut enough potato flesh to support the plant as it sprouted and grew.

This will choke a plant.  Pull it out before it gets going.

When I work my way through a row of beans, corn or any number of seedling plants, crawling on dirty knees, I often hear both my grandmothers' voices, helping me identify weeds.  Morning glories, in particular, grew prolifically in both their gardens and they cautioned me to pull those vining plants before they began to reach for support, smothering young seedlings as they grew at an alarming rate.  Many weeds grow in close proximity to plants they mimic in size, color and leaf shape; morning glories bear a striking resemblance to beans and, if unchecked, will twist vines among the beans, competing for moisture, soil nutrients and space.  As I pull buckets full of morning glories, vetch, pigweed, Johnson grass, ragweed, Creeping Charlie and many other nemeses, I am grateful for my grandmothers' helpful lessons.  

Spot the morning glory among bean seedlings?

If you were fortunate to learn gardening lessons as a child, perhaps you also "hear" those voices when you work.  If it has been awhile since you grew your own food, this is an excellent time to recapture childhood memories and recall your own life lessons.  Of course, you could always invite a child to be your garden helper and maybe, someday, it will be your voice that is fondly remembered.   

Although my maternal grandfather never offered gardening advice, I find Pa Joe's work attire to be perfect for my farming role.  Read Professional Dress Code for Farmers  at Seedtales.