Special to the HT
RBC | Redneck No. 1: “You gotta plant radishes. Radishes keep out the wolverines!”
Redneck No. 2: “What wolverines? We don’t have any wolverines.”
Redneck No. 1: “See … the radishes really work!”
My wife, Tracy, has the green thumb. Mine is brown. Still, I’ve picked up a few lessons — mostly what not to do in a garden.
First: Don’t plant in spring until the snow is off LO7. That bit of local wisdom was shared our first year in Meeker. On the Front Range, the rule was simpler: don’t plant until after Mother’s Day. The Saturday before is prime time at garden centers — dads and kids buying whatever looks pretty in Mom’s favorite color, usually something that won’t last a month in Colorado.
Waiting until after Mother’s Day usually worked — except the years it hailed golf ball-size ice, flattening everything. Garden centers did just fine selling replacements. At least Mom got to pick the right plants the second time.
The LO7 rule didn’t help much this year, either. Winter never really showed up. Snow melted off LO7 more times than I can count.
Tracy tells me the scientific way to pick a planting date is to measure soil temperature six inches down. I’m not hiking up LO7 with a meat thermometer and sticking it next to a varmint hole. I suppose I could try one of those pop-up buttons from a Thanksgiving turkey — when it pops, it’s time to plant.
Another local tip: don’t plant what deer like to eat. In Meeker, that’s easier said than done. After consulting the Colorado State University website for “deer-resistant” plants, we gave it a shot. Turns out young deer will eat just about anything. Maybe their tastes haven’t matured yet. We watched two of them climb our front steps and neatly trim the blooms off our potted geraniums.
Lesson learned: the only way to deer-proof a garden is to fence the deer out.
That worked until the chipmunks moved in.
They’re cute in places like Rocky Mountain National Park, catching crumbs and posing for pictures. Less charming when they’re tunneling under your fence and raiding the vegetable garden. Ours — I call them Chip and Dale — have expensive taste.
One fall, I offered to help Tracy plant tulip bulbs. Come spring, not many came up. Turns out I planted them upside down. No arrows, no instructions — just a bulb and blind optimism. Since then, my gardening duties have been limited to turning soil and watering. I’m not even allowed to weed without supervision.
But there is one thing I can grow in Meeker: rocks.
Every spring, a fresh crop appears in the yard. I’m thinking of gathering them into a pedestal for our garden gnome, Fred.
He’s got a brown thumb, too..
