powdery mildew strikes the peas

Mildew found my snap peas, because Mother Nature is a hater, and because these things happen when you start greenhouse gardening with hardly two specks of know-how.  I did learn something from the loss of our bean plants, so I picked up a spray bottle from the dollar store and got to spraying with an ACV/water solution.  I used about 1/2 TBS of vinegar for this spray bottle full of water. Even after dousing the entire greenhouse, I have more than half the bottle left. I can't tell if it's helping yet, but I'll keep trying, since it's as close as I can get to shooting Mildew at point-blank range in the face.

I'm actually feeling frantic, because the mildew that affects beans can also affect tomatoes. I did a bit more reading and stumbled across Growing A Greener World. I'm no longer sure why the rest of the internet still exists, because they have everything: episodes (great news for those of us who have inadvertently become internet-addicted by not owning a television), recipes, blogs, a store, and salvation from powdery mildew: potassium bicarbonate.  It's the only natural treatment for powdery mildews I've come across that left me any hope it could treat the mildew that's already there. Potassium bicarbonate is similar to baking soda, but with sodium instead of potassium, it's gentler on plants. And tougher on mildew. Disclaimer so you don't get false hope for Actual Science around here: I'm not so much great at chemistry as highly skilled in google-ing. 

Just like everything imaginable, it's available on amazon, or they also sell it at our local homebrew store ($3 for 4 oz).

4 tsp of potassium bicarbonate in a gallon of water is enough to treat 100 square feet, so it doesn't take much.  I'll let you know how it goes.

Someone's been eating my sprouts

After work Abe and I went to enjoy some peace and quiet in the greenhouse. Instead we discovered an infestation of caterpillars. They arrived overnight in hordes. They didn't go for the swiss chard (God knows we have enough swiss chard to share): They went straight for the good stuff, because nothing is sacred when you're a caterpillar.  Brussels sprouts are my favorite, and I'm closer to successfully growing them this year than ever before.

So it's on, Caterpillars. Did you think you could hide from me, skulking around on the underside of leaves like the cowardly tiny pests you are? I knew you White Butterfly Caterpillars right away after a thorough search of my Rodale's Guide and the internet:  your attraction to my brassica was a dead giveaway!  And now you're dead, too.

As it would happen, chickens like caterpillars almost as much as caterpillars like vegetables in the cabbage family.  I tried to get a picture, but it was such a feeding frenzy that my tired camera couldn't keep up, and all I could manage was this blurry photo where you can vaguely see something green in the ferocious beak of our Buff Orpington.

My brussels sprouts aren't the only thing getting eaten, and the caterpillars
aren't the only ones to feast in our backyard.