Worm update; and interior squeamishness

It is a dark time for the Rebellion...

The worm pacification strategy seems to be working.  I'm still getting a few little clusters like this up at the top, but not nearly as many.  So on to having a normally functioning worm bin, I hope!

Also, I have an observation to make about my own behavior; this goes under Garden Psychology, if there is such a field.  When I'm outside, in the garden, I sometimes wear gloves, but half of the time I take them off and forget to put them back on, so I'm bare-handed.  And those who have worked with me know that I am not squeamish about picking up worms, bugs, etc., as long as I know they're not going to bite me.

That's outside.  For some reason, this does not carry over to interiors.  Now, long ago I used to be bug-phobic; I'd go all Annie Hall over spiders and so forth, but I got over that, and I can handle bugs in the house... just not with my bare hands.  Out in the garden: pick the stink bugs off the plants and squish them, preferably with gloves on, but I have been known to do it without, and I can certainly take having them crawl on my bare skin.  In the house: I always use a tissue to carry them to the toilet for flushing, or a piece of cardboard to knock them into a jar of soapy water.  Out in the garden I pick up inconvenient worms and fling them away (gently, although I do confess that if my cat is "helping" me garden I let him pounce on the worms.  I'm sure this is evidence of a deep-seated psychosis).  Inside, I use wooden spoons or pieces of stiff cardboard to push my Rebel Worms back to their labor below or to poke around in the Worm Mines to see what's going on.  (On the other hand, I then wash the wooden spoon and use it to stir my dinner, so I'm still sure to gross someone out.)

I suspect this means that, deep down, I don't think bugs and worms belong in the civilized (sort of) atmosphere of my house, which of course they don't, but I'm not sure why I can't touch them to put them in their rightful place, while having no problem doing that outdoors.  The worm bin brings composting indoors, so it may eventually bridge the gap.  Not that I stick my bare hands in outdoor unfinished compost either.

Daffy

I missed Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day this month (not that I didn't have flowers, I just didn't want to be the twenty-third person saying "look! snowdrops and crocuses! WTF is up with that?") but now I have a daffodil, so must report.  Ta-da!  Is it the earliest ever?  I don't know, since I was terrible at keeping records until I had this blog, which will make all the difference.  *hums and looks confident*

There's been a lot of noise this winter along the lines of "See?  We told you global warming was real!" which sounds rather similar to the noises two winters ago when we had feet of snow, twice, and Washington's empty government buildings echoed to cries of "See?  We told you global warming was a political conspiracy!"  Neither of you are right.  Well, actually, the yea-sayers are right, but not because it's warm this winter, and it's not warm this winter strictly because of global warming or climate change or whatever you want to call it.  It's warm because the arctic oscillation is keeping itself in the far north or something (I heard it on NPR, okay?  So anyone reading this who thinks global warming is a political conspiracy can blame them, and decide that I think "gullible" isn't in the dictionary), and that can happen from time to time; it's perhaps a bit on the extreme end of normal, but normal nonetheless.  It does not mean it will never snow in Maryland again, and we will always have crocuses in January.  It is likely that along with the gradual warming trend we will have an increasing number of extreme-range-of-normal events, like two feet of snow or the kind of winter where everyone wishes they'd planted more fall greens since they'd still be harvesting them.  Dammit.

Also, I hear from Mike Raupp The Bug Guy, with regret, the reason we don't have a lot of stink bugs hanging around this warm winter isn't so much because of the winter as because of the late summer and fall, when we had feet of rain and apparently drowned the second generation of bugs (when they get down to Florida, guys, they will have five generations a year.  Think of all the baby shower gifts you'll have to get), but they will likely be back in full strength in no time at all.  It was a rather depressing (and yet extremely entertaining) talk he gave; he's giving another at Meadowside Nature Center on March 14, if you're around here and want to go.  

hairy bittercress

deadnettle

I gather daffodils have been blooming in DC for some weeks now, but I am in the bitter north here, so February 23 is pretty impressive, for whatever value of that word you want to infer.  Now, there are people who spot daffodils in February and just say "Look, a daffodil!" and there are gardeners, who say "Oh dear, that seems early; what happens if the arctic oscillation shifts and we get that blizzard after all?" (the answer is "not much; daffodils are pretty tough") and then there are the truly plant-aware and the master gardeners (in the broad, not Extensionist sense), who ignore the daffodils and start whining that the hairy bittercress and deadnettle are blooming and they never pulled them out when they should have.  Henceforth this is the task for warm winters: get rid of the weeds.  (Hairy bittercress is supposedly edible, though I find it too tiny and fussy to deal with.  So is garlic mustard (edible, I mean), and I have a lot of that to get rid of too, though thank goodness it doesn't bloom for another month or more.  I hope.  God, it's really depressing being a master gardener.  All I see is what shouldn't be there.)

Okay, and I have crocuses, too.  Look!

No miniature iris yet.  If those start blooming in February I may give up and move to Canada.

In other news, my seedlings are sprouting, including much of what I reported planted last time, and over the weekend I put seeds in for a whole bunch of peppers (33 plants, if they all come up.  I do not need 33 pepper plants), including several bells and some Italian frying and a jalapeno-sort and Fish and a habanero-type that is supposed to not be hot and a paprika and possibly others I've forgotten.  I have just received a heat mat I ordered (never used one before, since I start seeds in a warm room) which I may put under the peppers and/or the extra eggplants I should probably start soon, to encourage germination.  Also got more 2-foot shop lights for my 3-foot shelf.  No one makes 3-foot shop lights.  This is a business opportunity (for China, probably).

And in more other news, I just checked registration for the class I'm teaching March 10 (Montgomery College Germantown, Intensive Vegetable Gardening) and there are nine actual people signed up for it so far, so I had better get working on that powerpoint.

Missing, please do not find

photo nabbed from HGIC

The last few years here in Maryland have been, among other things, the Brown Marmorated Stink Bug Years.  Most people are aware of this invasive insect (introduced into Pennsylvania in the late 90s and gradually spreading) as a winter home invader, often on a large scale.  When spring comes, the bugs vacate and - as far as the average homeowner is concerned - vanish.

Gardeners and farmers, of course, know where they go.  They've been increasingly destructive pests with an ever-broadening menu that includes many of our most common and beloved food crops - corn and soybeans included, so watch out when they get to the Midwest - as well as ornamental plants.  They suck, literally - as true bugs, they have sucking mouth parts that drain the juice from fruit, leaves, pods, etc.  They feed on corn right through the husk, and here

is what they do to tomatoes.  This is why many of us learned this year to pick our tomatoes while still mostly green but just blushing with color, and ripen them indoors, and even so some of them were damaged.

I hold out no hopes for garden relief this summer; we'll be dealing with these bugs for a while.  (Research is happening on a parasitic wasp that might help.)  But - and I still say this with fingers crossed - whereas the last two winters we've lived with stink bugs in the house, buzzing across the room and slamming into lamps, crawling up the wall next to the bed, hunkering down on the toothbrush - this winter has been nearly bug-free.  I've cleaned up a few dead ones and flushed a few live ones, but the jar-with-a-little-dish-soap I'd prepared to collect and kill in goes unused.  Last winter I had upstairs and downstairs jars, and collected several bugs in each every single day.  So is it just our house they don't like this year?  Having discussed stink bugs with lots of people of late, I conclude that their habits are erratic at best (the bugs, I mean, not the people), and you just can't predict which house or garden will be attractive to them when.  But our house is accessible - full of holes - and I sure as heck had them outside last summer, and at least some of them came indoors early in the fall.  Are they all hiding in the attic or the shed, due to the relatively warm winter?  (In their natural habitat, I believe they hibernate in cracks and crevices just above freezing.  Warm houses are actually detrimental to them, since staying active all winter burns energy they don't replenish (they don't eat in winter) and many die before spring even when we don't pounce on them and consign them to a watery doom.)  Are they all hiding behind the books I never get around to reading, among the appliances I never use, or under the clothes I need to sort out?  We had some in September, so where have they gone?

If found, please do not return to my house or garden.  I have had enough, and I do not want to find one in my bed, on my plants, or inside my underwear while I was wearing it, ever again.  I suspect this is just a respite, but any time without them is fine with me.

Much info to be found here if you want to read it.  If you live in a region not yet invaded and want to invent a little Stay-Away-Stink-Bug dance, I'm sure it would be a big YouTube hit.