I spent three hours in the garden this afternoon, sweating it out in 100-degree heat indices. I’d neglected the garden for too long, and with our two-week stretch of 90+ temps and no rain, things were looking bad.

With the hose running all the while, I cut my losses and pulled out the squash-bug infested pumpkin vines. It makes me sad as I find pumpkins to be one of the most rewarding plants to grow, and I’ve had success with them in other gardens. But these vines were so infested that I knew it was better to get rid of them. There would be no Prince Charming this fall.

With the vines removed, I faced the challenge of how to dispose of them. Burning is the recommended option for infected crops, but I didn’t want to clear out the fire pit and sacrifice all the firewood it would take to get things good and hot. Then I had a flash of inspiration: my flame thrower. It targets blistering heat that no bug could survive.

I dumped my refuse in the driveway and went to work. Squash bug eggs went from this:

To this:

I wish I could take the flame thrower to the infested beds to get the rest of the buggers left hiding in the straw, but I fear the heat would damage beneficial worms and microbes. My next inspiration involves turning Mr. King Guinea, who has taken it upon himself to harass his ladies and the hens, out into the garden to free range and pick up the remaining pests. There may be more damage to crops than critters, but I may just give it a shot.

I took this pic last week right before a massive heat wave hit. Shown are squash and zukes, box choi gone to seed, kale, chard, yellow and green beans, eggplants, peppers, cabbage, cukes on the trellis, tomatoes, and pumpkins—as well as cutting flowers and herbs.

With last week’s heat indices around 115, the garden’s gone round the bend and started its midsummer decline. The squash bugs polished off my yellow squash plant and are most of the way through a Black Beauty zucchini. The pumpkins are running for their lives, breaking out of the fence trying to escape the squash bugs that do their damage from the base of the stem up the plant. I’ve never had garden with a squash bug problem before…I handpicked eggs off as I found them, and squashed adults to no avail. Any tips other than to get a greenhouse or use row covers? I tried neem and insecticidal soap, but no luck. I’m about ready to cut my losses, pull up the pumpkins and zuke, and toss a guinea or two in the garden to go after the little buggers.

First bouquet harvested from my cutting garden this year, and some of the cukes and squash that are coming on strong. I love seeing the tractor out the window. It’s the best kind of horse. Beautiful and useful and I don’t have to feed it or take it to the vet!

Is not for the faint of heart.

It means I spend a half an hour each evening hunting under and over each leaf, smushing my prey with my bare hands.

There’s a perverse satisfaction to it. The most fun are the fat green tomato hornworms, stupid big bullies that quickly strip leaves but deposit a pelleted trail that makes them very easy to find. With every green gut squish I am fighting the good fight as I try to stay ahead of the bugs without pesticides. However, I know things could turn bad in a day, when the tipping point between manual control and inevitable reproduction is reached.

But for right now, things are looking pretty good. I had my first harvest this week: cucumbers, yellow squash, zucchini, Japanese eggplant, red Russian kale, and great boughs of basil that went straight into pesto. It’s officially summer in the kitchen.

I recently discovered quite the blackberry thicket growing at the wood line. It’s funny—all last summer I searched the property for the berries I was sure had to be around and never found any. So I planted a bunch of berry bushes in the field and started my own patch. And then this year I stumble on the wild berries, which judging by the size of the patch must have been there all along. Joke’s on me.

In truth, though, they could have been easy to miss. They’re well-hidden in a mass of poison ivy, honeysuckle, and all matter of creeping, twining summer foliage. Wading in to collect the fruit feels like entering a murky pond. I gingerly place my feet, cringing when anything brushes my skin, anticipating the strike of a disturbed snake or a swarm of seed ticks.

The berries aren’t huge, and they’re seedy. But they’re tart/sweet and taste of wild vitamin C. I’ll be back every day while they last.

*This post is dedicated to the bear, with memories of a hot and dusty hedgerow and other small, red fruit.

With the deer fencing hung, dig out perimeter of garden in preparation for small-critter protection:

Secure chicken wire to bottom of fencing, flaring it down into the trench about 10 inches to thwart digging pests. Secure bottom of deer fencing and chicken wire with landscape staples. I went through at least five, 75-count bags of staples on this project!

Next, line inside of garden with landscaping fabric to prevent hard-to-remove weeds from growing around fencing. Refill chicken-wire trench with dirt and secure landscaping fabric on the outside of garden to similarly thwart weeds:

Finally time for layout on May 15. Define walkways with landscaping fabric and stick in a few plants and seeds…

…before a hailstorm hits:

After the storm, keep planting…in the mud:

Tucker, go get the tractor…

…and help me mulch around the garden to make it look pretty!

And finally, kick back and wait for the plants to grow while enjoying a break from nearly three months of hard work!

Let’s take a trip back in time, way back to winter—March 25! That’s when I started the project that was to consume much of the next three months. Without further ado, a high-speed photo tutorial on How to Make a (Critterproof) Garden from Scratch:

Find a nice piece of land, preferably fairly level, and stake out your corners. If you’re a redneck like me you’ll already have big dead patches of pasture from where your junk trailers had been parked for the past year:

Next, borrow the services of a family member with a pretty sweet new ride-on tiller!

Once the ground is broken up, add peat moss, sand, compost. Till that in.

Decide the garden looks too small. Repeat above process to increase area by a third:

Final garden: 20′ x 36′. Looking good!

Work stops to wait out the final snow of the year on March 27.

When not working on the garden, get acquainted with brand-new, eight-week old Bonafide Farmdog:

Next up: Deeproofing! Set posts and string tensioned wires to support 7′ deer fencing:

Puppy raising takes time away from the garden and in the meantime, spring has sprung! On April 23, begin hanging deer fencing, a slow process when done alone. This is heavy-duty polypropylene that should last a good number of years:

Stay tuned for the rest of the garden build, including all the essential critter-thwarting tricks!

I planted twenty-seven new perennials in the front yard in two hours Sunday night…using a pick axe to dig holes in the clay. That was just the icing on the cake of a physical labor weekend that comprised seven straight hours of shoveling compost into a wheelbarrow, muscling it out of the woods, across the field, and into my garden, then shoveling it out of the wheelbarrow and around the seedlings. A ridiculous exertion especially considering the tractor that sat idly by much of the day because the compost pile was getting too low to scoop with the bucket, and the tractor’s too big to fit in the garden. The next garden I make is going to be tractor-accessible!

Tonight I went for a short lap around the yard, and in less than five minutes this is what I saw:

“Pat Austin” rose still blooming like crazy

“Black Beauty” Elderberry also putting on a show

Persimmon planted last year, blooming and setting fruit

Cherries! Too high to pick from the ground—enjoyed by birds, not me.

“Celeste” fig, which I thought died of winter cold, is actually regrowing!

Peaches on the recently lopped peach tree

I closed up the bluebird box just yesterday, and since then Mr. Bluebird has been busy with Home Construction 2.0.

Inherited grapevine…a gigantic mess that I finally chopped to the ground this spring. I hope to train a new central vine from this sprout. I worked today to pull out, by hand, the poison ivy surrounding this vine. I await repercussions.

Unmowed hayfied reverting back to wild pasture. It’s so pretty like this—even full of berries and all—that I wonder why mow at all?

Inherited iris growing in the drainage ditch by the road.

And finally, two eggs a day appearing, as if by magic, from the guineas. I have it on good authority from egg-eating family members that they are delicious!