“In tropical climes there are certain times of day,
When all the citizens retire,
To tear their clothes off and perspire.
It’s one of those rules the greatest fools obey,
Because the sun is far too sultry,
And one must avoid its ultry-violet ray…
Mad Dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun.”
~ Excerpt from “Mad Dogs and Englishmen” by Noel Coward, 1931.
Despite my best intentions, I haven’t done much work in the garden this week because of the heat. For most North American temperate climate gardeners “off season” occurs in the winter, when cold suspends the growing season, and ice, snow, and frozen ground make working in the garden impossible. Here in the subtropical climate of East Texas our gardening “off season” last from late July until the first cool fronts in October. It isn’t ruled so much by cold as it is by a virtual sauna of uncomfortably humidity and often dangerous heat. Starting in late May, the heat consistently builds through summer to an oppressive crescendo in late August, persisting through September. High temperatures and high humidity combine to make being outside almost unbearably uncomfortable at best and dangerous at worst. This is all measured using a handy chart called a “Heat Index,” (see below) which shows us just how miserable we really are. Along with the high temps, the intense sun bakes out what little moisture our infrequent summer thunderstorms bring to the soil. Tender seedlings and sprouts of most edible vegetables can’t take the heat, so our elevated temperatures cause many leafy vegetables to “bolt” and go to seed, which renders them bitter and inedible. Only a few established vegetables like tomatoes, corn, beans, eggplant, squash, melons, cucumbers, and okra can survive this heat, but they need a tremendous amount of water. Anything planted new will have to wait for cooler weather.
I had plans for this week, namely to finish applying soil to the Dewberry vineyard, and to sort through the reclaimed bricks I acquired the week before to begin setting them as pavement in the garden. July has been typically hot, and this past week was at the high end of the scale. After sorting and moving some of the bricks, I decided heavy lifting of bricks and bags of soil could wait, and realizing I was neither a Mad Dog or an Englishman, I adjusted my plans. Instead of hauling bricks, I developed a raised bed (see top image) using an adaptation of sheet composting, where layers of organic material are evenly stacked over a fairly wide area, one on top of the other and then left to decay into a rich compost. I layered bagged Autumn leaves, pulled weeds and grass runners from the overgrown sidewalk and curb, a few buckets of reclaimed spent potting soil, freshly cut grass, a small bag of cheap store bought topsoil, and the last of my homemade compost. I soaked it all with collected rainwater and left it to do it’s composting magic.
Next week: Acquire more reclaimed landscape bricks and stones. Finish the Dewberry Vineyard… no, really!