Saturday, April 28, 2012

Gettin' Drunk On Garden Mulch

Back in this post, I said I'd 'splain what the black fabric-y stuff was around my raised bed.


It's garden fabric, and it's designed to smother and keep out weeds.


It's totally worth the money;
last year I took the advice of an email forward and tried putting down newspaper, instead.

BIG MISTAKE.

The newspaper broke down, and the weeds sprung up.  I'm not obsessive
about weeds, but the dang things came up under the newspaper,
and made big ole bumps all over the area between the pots.

So don't cheap out!  Use this stuff, use A LOT of it, and overlap it like crazy.
 I didn't overlap it that much when I used it in another area, 
and there was a neat line of weeds all along the gap.

Now, what to cover it with?

For the path between the beds and pots, I put down shredded bark:


It looks nice, right?
But holy moly, it's as full of splinters as a splintery thing can be.
When I was working with it, I finally brought my reading glasses
and a pair of tweezers outside to pull out all the tiny, tiny irritating splinters.


I was planning on sucking it up and using the shredded bark in the beds anyway,
but then I listened to You Bet Your Garden with Mike McGrath on public radio.


(My Sweet Man on public radio:  "They all sound like they're wearing sweaters.")

Now Mr. McGrath started on about mulch, and pretty much said
a gardener might as well pour rat poison over her garden if she used shredded bark.

Evidently it's bad, BAD for the garden!

So what should I use?

I went sleuthing around the internets, and found that Mr. McGrath recommended

HOMEMADE COMPOST

(which I didn't have enough of)

SHREDDED FALL LEAVES

(it's spring, and I definitely don't have those)

or 

COCOA MULCH!


Omigosh!  Perfect!  I love, love the smell of the stuff.
In fact, the two bags I bought ended up sitting in my car for a week while I was sick,
and when I got back into the car it smelled exactly like chocolate wine.


Also, it looks very nice around the plants...


...AND, it left my hands with nary a splinter.


WINNER, WINNER,
CHICKEN DINNER!






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