Putting Old Hose to Work

Unfortunately, the topic of this entry is more suited to conversation than to reading, for the ear may confuse what the eye cannot. Please try to imagine that you are hearing this, not reading it--at least for the introductory paragraph.

Here on Precious & Celestial Wonders Organic Farm, we're an equal opportunity employer. Not only do all the residents and animals have to work, we've even pressed some old hose into service. Dragging the poor things out of a lonely retirement, we've cast the the old hose into the fresh air and sunshine where they can pamper our growing fruits and vegetables.

As the watermelon and butternut squash plants come to fruition, I'm reminded of the folly of our keeping plants raised up off of the ground. Sure, it seemed to be a good idea at planting time, but now that the growth is producing weighty burdens, the produce needs support. Enter, old hose.

Cut off at the knee, a long, silky tube is just the right size for slipping around a young fruit. Tied to the fence at its top, the old stocking becomes a sling at the ready, waiting for the growing weight to press it into real service. For the watermelon, I started with old knee-highs, but I suspect that they will require replacement (or at least augmentation) as the fruits develop. Here, the butternut squash rests inside the worn-out stocking, veiled in a bit of mystery--it seems--but mystery that will fade away as the vegetable develops to fill the cloth.

Some recent winds and rains have torn at the trailing vines, ripping one watermelon vine to shreds before its fruit could drop to fill the knee-high sling beneath it. Luckily the squash fared better--perhaps because its vine runs along the tighter netting of chicken wire (excuse me, I know that the politically correct term is poultry netting, but it will always be chicken wire to me). The watermelon must provide its own support in addition to that of the widely-spaced rungs of cattle panel along which it's been trained.

Perhaps I'll add some Velcro strips to reinforce each plant's own slender tendrils. Hopefully those will salvage these late-started plants as we enter hurricane season.

Whatever happens, we are enjoying the tomatoes that we reach before the chickens (I daresay they're pretty quick, those birds), and eager to taste the larger fruits when they become ready.