Raised Beds: Effective, Efficient Gardening

I am on spring break, so I had some fun today making my blog look a little more springy, since the weather isn't moving in that direction. New gardeners are always asking me about the pros and cons of raised beds. All I can speak about is the pros. They make gardening effective and efficient. The first picture is of my mom's garden with raised beds. When her yard was done during the Superfund project in Kellogg, she decided to do raised beds. JEJ built these raised beds for Mom. The soil was provided by the project, but Mom continues to amend it each year with manure. She wanted them higher so she could garden, weed, and water without bending over. This type has worked well for her. The vegetables are compact in each bed. I will have to post a picture in about three months so you can see how prolific her raised bed vegetables are. ( side note: when JEJ was building these raised beds in Mom's driveway, curious onlookers thought he was building coffins. Finally a neighbor asked since they couldn't figure out where that many deceased family members had come from to need that many coffins! I am glad that was cleared up).
The next picture shows our raised beds. Because we had to spend so much time amending our soil/sand, raised beds helped quicken that process. The amendments are more concentrated so you don't have to fertilize as often. Also, I do cut flowers which reseed like crazy. At first I thought that was delightful. Later I discovered you could only grow so many bachelor buttons and cosmos. The raised beds helped deter reseeding and allowed the smaller plants to grow and not be choked out by cosmos. We placed weed barrier around the raised beds and added bark. This has kept the weeds and reseeded flowers down.
Another advantage to raised beds is less traffic on the garden soil. If you don't walk on the garden plot you don't pack down the soil. The amended soil stays fluffy and easier to work with.
Again, I would recommend raised beds. We used recycled wood so the expense was minimal. Now if the weather would cooperate, we could once again experience the effective, efficient raised beds.

National Poetry Month, Poem #4

Nothing Gold Can Stay

Nature’s first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.
-Robert Frost

This poem always takes me back to the book The Outsiders. With the poem, the phrase "Stay Gold", and Stevie Wonder's theme song in the film it reminds me of the novel study with students. They remember this poem. On a personal level I love the idea of gold in nature and how it doesn't often stay.

Disasters, Fiascoes, and the Most Secure House in the Silver Valley

As I said yesterday, disaster always follows me when I return to my hometown of Kellogg, Idaho for a visit. The rest of yesterday was uneventful, but today was another story. My sister has never been locked out of her house. Today when I went to pick her up to go out to breakfast she unknowingly locked herself out of the house. There is a door in the garage they never lock. She did last night ( I guess because I was there to bring disaster). When we arrived back from breakfast we tried every door into the house. We also tried every window. Everything was locked up tight. Next we tried tools. (Now remember, this was the team that couldn't find the spare or the rod to fix the tire yesterday). We called my husband for advice and he said it would be cheaper to call a locksmith than break down a door or window. Thank God. Picturing the two of us trying to crash through a window or knock down a door was not a picture I wanted in my head. SilverValleyGirl called a friend that knew a locksmith. Low and behold... Dave Smith Motors not only sells a jillion cars each year in Kellogg... they have a locksmith. After unsuccessfully working with all the doors for thirty minutes with his collection of tools, he finally found a door he could open. I feel safe now knowing my sister has the most secure house in The Silver Valley. At that point I thought I had better just drive away and head for Lake Roosevelt before a wall crashed down or a shower overflowed. (I was relieved she had wireless. At least I could check in on Huckleberries Online while waiting for the locksmith to " do his thing" at the door.)

National Poetry Month, Poem #3

A Prayer for the Twenty-First Century

May the road be free for the journey,
May it lead where it promised it would,
May the stars that gave ancient bearings
Be seen, still be understood.
May every aircraft fly safely,
May every traveler be found,
May sailors in crossing the ocean
Not hear the cries of the drowned.

May gardens be wild, like jungles,
May nature never be tamed,
May dangers create of us heroes,
May fears always have names.
May the mountains stand to remind us
Of what it means to be young,
May we be outlived by our daughters,
May we be outlived by our sons.

May the bombs rust away in the bunkers,
And the doomsday clock not be rewound,
May the solitary scientist, working,
Remember the holes in the ground.
May the knife remain in the holder,
May the bullet stay in the gun,
May those who live in the shadows
Be seen by those in the sun.

John Marsden

This poem gives up hope for the twenty-first century.

Disasters, Fiascoes, and A Blizzard in Kellogg

Every time I come to Kellogg to visit disaster follows me. One time I pulled out the drawer in my mom's refrigerator and it fell out and it took a complete rearrangement of the kitchen to fix it. Another time the sink plugged up just as we were trying to prepare a holiday dinner. Other fiascoes have included coffee going on the counter and into a drawer instead of the pot, dropping stuff on the floor and breaking it, and tripping over dog water dishes and flooding the kitchen.


Today was no exception. Mom and I were helping my sister today with spring cleaning. The day started out normal. I was getting recycled stuff ready when I noticed the tire on the pickup had a flat. Mom called AAA while I took stuff to the recycle bins. When I returned for some reason I left my car running. I think I was going to ask if I needed to move it. Fortunately that fiasco only lasted about ten minutes. The next disaster was when I picked up a bag of debris and soil that had sat in a garbage can all winter. It had that "stinky water that has sat too long" smell which went on my pants, shoes, and hands. It was nasty. When I came in the house Mom thought a dog had an accident. Oh no.... it was just Calamity Inland Empire Girl.

When the guy arrived with the tow truck he couldn't find the rod to change the tire. Of course we didn't even know where the spare was. He towed the truck to Les Schwab.


I tried all afternoon to get the horrible water smell off my hands, but that may be a longer process.
We got a call... the pickup was ready. When we went to get it we had a freak blizzard. Mom was walking to the car, then realized she forgot her purse and had to go back in the house. As we pulled out my low fuel light came on. Ummmm, big surprise. We arrived at Les Schwab, they went to get the pickup, I went next door to get gas, and we all survived. Of course, it is only five o'clock. A lot can happen before I go to bed tonight. Stay tuned!

National Poetry Month, Poem #2

Where I’m From

I am from clothespins,
from Clorox and carbon-tetrachloride,
I am from the dirt under the back porch.
(Black, glistening,
It tasted like beets.)
I am from the forsythia bush,
The Dutch elm
Whose long-gone limbs I remember
As if they were my own.

I’m from fudge and eyeglasses,
from Imogene and Alafair.
I’m from the know-it-alls
and the pass-it-ons,
from Perk up! And Pipe down!I’m from He restoreth my soul
with a cottonball lamb
and ten verses I can say myself.

I’m from Artemus and Billie’s Branch,
Fried corn and strong coffee.
From the finger my grandfather lost
to the auger,
the eye my father shut to keep his sight.

Under my bed was a dress box
spilling old pictures,
a sift of lost faces
to drift beneath my dreams.
I am from those moments-
Snapped before I budded-
leaf-fall from the family tree.
-George Ella Lyon

This poem is one that is simple and familiar. When I first read it I thought of Grandma’s black dirt under her porch, Mom’s homemade fudge, making a cottonball lamb, and Dad losing an eye in an accident as a child . This poem is a good starting point for a writing exercise for families, friends, and students. Enjoy!