Because I've been ant-watching - but I don't feel any wiser. In fact, I'm out of ideas.
I was turning the compost every day, trying to get it ready to go into the garden to be used as soil. I was please at how well it was coming along.
Then one day, there were ants. I moved the compost bin and re-shoveled, figuring once their home was destroyed, they'd leave. The next day they'd rebuilt and moved on. I again moved and re-shoveled dousing it in buckets of water I carried from the faucet.
Ants are persistent, anyway. I might not even mind them in the compost if they weren't fire ants - the bane of the yard. Usually, if dousing a pile doesn't make them move, I'll declare war and pour boiling water on the mound. That normally does the trick.
Of course my famous catch phrase is, "It should work."
But people and things rarely do the things they should.
I've carried a boiling tea-kettle out numerous times in the last few days and it might be killing the microorganisms in the soil but it sure as heck ain't killing the ants. I took the coffee grounds from the Bed and Breakfast that I work at, but there wasn't really enough to deter the creature.
I'm not ready to sacrifice our bag of sugar quiet yet.
Corn starch did nothing.
Finally, I remembered you can kill two birds with one stone - actually, two colonies of ants at once - but mixing them. One of my fictional characters from the early 1900's says they'll go at each other like Catholics and Protestants, which is probably more relevant to him than it is to me.
Apparently, to the ants too. I've done it twice and I think they declared world peace and are now happily working together to vanquish my compost pile.
Really, it makes me feel like a monster.
So today I dragged the empty bin all the way across the yard, between the two grapevine trellises. There were a few straggling ants on the bin - some of which bit me for my efforts. I left them and the bin empty, trying to decide if I should just start over. Four hours later I peeked in the bin to see if the few and the brave were gone - and they've already made a ant-bed in the ground inside the compost bin.
At least they don't have four feet of debris to hide in.
I may have to drench the bottom with coffee grounds if I can get some from the bookstore or something before I put more compost in.
But I need that compost. I'm out of potting soil and I can't buy more. I have seeds coming in the mail and I spent today digging the bed where the tomatoes will go. I'm going to have to make do with the soil I have and the compost I can create and leave "perfect" planting soil as a future project, probably along with the square-foot raised garden. In fact today I planted two of the tomato seedlings in the bed. I know it's early but I want to see if I can get them to grow well starting this early and I had a lot of them that survived the winter and are currently waiting in mason jars for a home.
Ahem. I read that you can use orange peels to start seeds in and I happen to have four or five oranges in my fridge. I can't eat the oranges so I may as well use them for something.
So far I have two bell pepper plants planted.
Two tomato plants in the ground - these grew from a tomato I threw in some dirt way before winter set in and they've been hanging in there.
Hollyhock seedlings popping through the soil in the front of the house. A few more planted back by the garage house. A container of English Lavender. One basket of strawberry plants that seem to be thriving. Another basket of strawberry plants that are on their last breaths. They weren't in very good shape when they came in the package but I thought I'd try to give them a chance. I have about eight little tomato plants living in mason jars and waiting for homes with my brother and sister if I ever get down to see them.
Which leads me to the rosemary story. I read that you can grow rosemary from cuttings - and I just so happen to work at a B and B where we cut fresh rosemary to garnish the plates. I didn't want to ask my employer if I could have some rosemary, but I remembered that I throw those little cuts away every time I make breakfast there. So now I have two little cuttings saved from the breakfast plates and now in soil. We'll see how they do.
The bed I prepared last winter behind the shed where my great-grandmother supposedly had an herb garden, must have been full of shade-loving plants. It gets a tiny bit of sun in the morning and then is blocked by a building for most of the day. I'm not sure what I'm going to plant there yet. I picked up a packet of Canterbury Bells because it looked like they needed shade but on further inspection, I think they need more sun than they would get there. Perhaps that's where I'll grow mint and chamomile. I think they're okay in shade. I'll have to look.
I went to the store today for chamomile today but I only picked up a sugar pumpkin and cucumber seeds. They didn't have any chamomile. But when I find it, I want to grow a little of it in my silver teapot.I have a silver teapot that is sitting, tucked away in a china hutch. It's got some sort of green encrusting coating on the inside, so I don't want to use it for tea - and I haven't had a tea-party in years anyway. I've gotten interested to see what I can grow in containers and what sort of containers I can reuse that I have laying around the house.
So I looked it up, and this person has done it.
I think it would be great to have a "tea garden" with all different herbs to create tea.
My lettuce is also coming up, though I was hasty in planting it before the bed was properly prepared. Now it's hard to tell which is the lettuce and which are weeds reclaiming their territory. Guess I'll find out.
Right now the progress is little more than seedlings (and lots of digging).
My flame grapevine is putting out leaves and has looked like it's settled into it's new home.
And I have a gardening friend. His name - is Marius. Or Dingbat. Or Kate. Or Nate.
He's a cat that I thought was a she until a few weeks ago. But he loves fresh water from the tap, drinking it from the bucket like a dog. He'll chase the roots I pull out of the digging soil and throw behind me. He'll attack the mulch that I'm smoothing out. Generally, he'll follow me back and forth (or underfoot) and hang out nearby while I work.
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