When one of us cooks dinner and the other one says “this tastes like poo,” that’s a bad thing. Especially for the one of us that dared to pass judgment on the other’s meal, but that’s an issue for another day. When we’re feeding the garden, hearing our plants say “this tastes like poo” would mean that we’re giving them the best possible nutrition. Chicken poo, to be exact. Composted chicken manure has nearly the perfect ratio of nitrogen, potassium, & phosphorus, the three macronutrients you need for optimal plant growth. However, the manure needs to be spread on the garden several weeks before we’re ready to plant, so that some of the nitrogen can escape into the air and keep the garden from being to “hot.” Thankfully that means the spreading happens when it’s still too cold to hang out outside, saving us from the overwhelming and oh-so-delightful aroma of decaying chicken poo.
So with the food taken care of, it was time to move on to the drink. Our soil is really sandy, so when we used to turn the hose on the plants for a little hydration, we’d splash sand all up on the plants. Which is fine, if you want to sand down your teeth a little with every salad you eat. Not only that, but pathogens in the splashed-up soil can cause plant disease (hence the loss of our late tomato crop last year, when a wind storm blew down half our tomato plants!) So last year, we started running drip tape through our rows of plants instead. Drip tape is essentially a flattened hose with tiny holes every 10 inches to slowly release water. The low pressure and low profile keeps the water close to the roots so it doesn’t splash up on the plant, and less is lost to evaporation. Each row of drip tape is attached to the main hose with a valve that allows us to turn the water on for just the rows that need it. We’re conserving water all over the place…only watering the rows we need, watering right at the root, and saving gallon upon gallon of water that we used to use to rinse the sand off our spinach. Much to the chagrin of our lonely, salad spinner, alone with her memories of spinach salads past.