Fertilizer: Grow, Damn You!

Considering how much effort we put into promoting their health and well-being, it’s no wonder some gardeners talk to their plants. I’ve caught myself now and again saying things like “Happy now?” or “Well, you look good today!” to a particularly robust specimen of vegetable life. I’ve also caught myself feeling resentful toward plants that seemingly refuse to grow at the desired rate. It’s much easier to shout “What’s wrong with you?” at the plant than to actually figure out what the plant is communicating with its stunted stem or yellowing leaves.

My lettuce, spinach, and radish seedlings gave me no end of frustration in their early weeks when they were stuck in the two-leaf stage for what seemed an inordinate length of time. I wondered if they would even survive. They had emerged vigorously, but then languished. So I went out to the garage for what remained of the bone meal and blood meal I had spread in the flowerbeds, and worked it into the top two inches of garden soil with my new cultivator.

Then I left on my week of vacation, feeling discouraged. I returned to find nearly mature radishes and lush rows of half-grown Bibb lettuce. Perhaps it was the watering technique that did it (the Man with the Perfect Lawn, who kindly watered the plants in my absence, favors deep-watering), or perhaps it was the organic fertilizer. I am inclined to favor the theory that the fertilizer contributed the most to the new growth, grateful though I am for my neighbor’s help.

The tomatoes, transplanted into the ground just before I left, had not grown much taller, but their stems were thick and strong. The Swiss chard seedlings had grown into fine plants with beautiful, arching leaves, and the onions looked—well, alive. One can never tell what those things are doing underground, even though their tops are at present unimpressive. I decided to let things alone for a while, pleased with my garden’s transition to what looked like actual viability.

Last weekend, though, I started noticing that the two buttercup squash plants on the side nearer to the house were yellowing. A few days later, while I was watering, I saw a plump squash bug climb to the top of a broad leaf to escape the downpour. It was this year’s first squash bug, an ill omen for its host. I promptly grabbed the brown bug and crunched it between my flip-flop and the garden frame. Last year, I had killed dozens of the juice-sucking insects, not including the hundred or so tiny, whitish-green squash bug nymphs I had squeezed between my fingers, all to no avail. They dried up the buttercup squash plants first before moving on to the zucchini, which lived through the summer but produced not a single fruit.

I looked for the leathery rows of squash bug eggs on the undersides of the leaves, but found none. Then I removed all the dead and withering leaves from the squash plants, to take away potential hiding places for the bugs and their nymphs. As I tugged at a yellowed leaf on the smaller of the two plants, the entire stem broke off, revealing an interior riddled with broad passageways. A squash vine borer had evaded my surveillance. The only thing to do was to dig up the second plant and discard the stem and root.

Edward G. Smith, author of The Gardener’s Bible, writes: “Once you have good soil for growing vegetables, you’ll get better yields and higher-quality vegetables if you don’t fertilize plants at all during the growing period.” I had decided to hold off on the liquid fertilizer in the hope that my organic amendments would prove adequate. But the episode with the broken-off squash plant convinced me that the squash would need all the help it could get to stave off infestation and disease. Last week, I finally hosed down the entire garden, including the flowerbeds, with a solution of 24-8-16 all-purpose inorganic plant food (that’s 24% nitrogen, 8% available phosphate, and 16% soluble potash).

For those without the blessing of pre-existing good soil, Ed recommends using fish or fish-and-seaweed emulsion or compost tea, but I hadn’t the funds to buy more organic fertilizer and I don’t have a compost pile. Last year’s artificial stuff would have to do. So I’m not an organic gardener, though I don’t douse my plants with insecticides as my neighbor does (he swears by Sevin, which he dusted liberally on his tomatoes, beans, and cucumbers). The inorganic stuff seems to have worked. Other than a couple of wilted leaves which I removed yesterday, the remaining squash plant on that side has shown no signs of weakness. It’s not quite as vigorous as the two plants on the opposite side of the garden, but its blossoms are large and profuse, and its vines are growing several inches a day. Even though the harvest is several months away, I’ll count that one (provisionally) a success.