Beetlemania

File this under “if it’s not one thing, it’s another.”
Which may be, upon further reflection, the most profoundly absurd statement ever when it comes to gardening. It’s nature! Of course there’s always something!
Here in the Blue Ridge mountains of Virginia, we’ve had insect pests come and go, with each summer featuring something different.

Two years ago? Chewing up everything in the vegetable garden plus lots of perennials… Blister beetles!

Last year we had record rainfall, which brought out the gnats in gnumbers we’d never seen before. While not plant pests, they managed to take a lot of the fun out of gardening, hell-bent on clogging every facial orifice and nibbling on exposed flesh. Then the stinkbugs came. And stayed all winter long, keeping us company in the house.

This season goes down as the summer of Popillia japonica, the Japanese Beetle. Holy cow. I’m no entomologist (let’s ask Dr. Jeff!) so I can’t speak to how we got to this lowly place. But in any gathering of two or more local gardeners, The Beetle Issue will come up immediately.

Orgy in my beans! (NSFW)
Orgy in my beans! (NSFW)

There’s a ton of literature out there on life cycle, control, etc. They are a noted pest of turf, as the larvae munch away at the roots before emerging in early summer. I am not personally familiar with that aspect, as we don’t really have turf at our house; it’s a mix of white clover, orchard grass, broadleaf weeds, and some kind of fescue that that still make a decent green substance when mowed to 3.25″ (and viewed from a distance). If I come across grubs while pulling weeds or planting, I’ll call over a couple of hens to take care of business. Biological controls such as spores of bacterial Milky Disease and insect parasitic nematodes have been only marginally successful.

For adult control, the debate continue regarding the efficacy (and wisdom) of traps baited with floral or pheromone lures. “Hey there, neighbor! Mind if your Japanese Beetles come over to my place?” Most of the pesticides recommended in the literature are broad spectrum (pyrethroids, carbaryl, etc.) so, heck no on that count. Hand-picking them into a cup or bucket of soapy water to die a bubbly, fragrant death is an option for a small garden (and extremely patient gardener). Note chickens also enjoy the crunchy outer coating and creamy center; spiny, thrashing legs and all.

Back to our regional plight – they attacked the usual suspects – favoring anything in the Rosaceae family including brambles,apple, etc. Any kind of Hibiscus now looks like a lace doily. Veggies were indiscriminately perforated – the beans were especially hard-hit. All that beetle poop is especially unappetizing on chard. A big surprise was the Japanese or Fall-blooming Anemone. They took mine down to the stem. I am currently enjoying flowers on a stick.

There's an "Anemone" pun here somewhere..
There’s an “Anemone” pun here somewhere..

Both the Anemone and I will live, of course. But here’s the thing. One of the mantras that got us all through one of the coldest winters on record was “At least the bugs won’t be as bad this summer!” Ha, ha! If it’s not one thing, it’s another! Aargh.


Go here to download a PDF of the exceedingly-informative 20-page USDA APHIS Homeowner’s Guide to Managing Japanese Beetles

An unwanted bonus in your urban chickens

Longtime reader Ray Eckhart sent me a NYT story on urban chicken eggs and lead contamination.  As I’ve mentioned before on this blog, urban gardeners should have their soils tested for lead, arsenic, and other commonly found heavy metals before they plant edibles.  Chickens that are allowed to peck and scratch in metal-contaminated soils will pass that unwanted load on to you via their eggs.

So test your soils!  It costs a bit of money, but then you know exactly what’s lurking in there.  If your soils have significantly high levels of lead or other contaminants, you can still raise chickens as long as they don’t roam your garden.

Off-label Use of a Chicken*

 

[Extremely] Preliminary research results from the University of Maryland indicate
chickens may be of interest in the fight against Halyomorpha halys, the brown
marmorated stink bug. 

There are good stink bugs and bad stink bugs. The brown marmorated stink bug is a bad one. A relatively new introduced pest, it is piercing, sucking, and generally ruining vegetable and fruit crops (as well as some ornamentals) across a good part of the U.S.  There are apparently few natural predators for this imported species and they reproduce like mad, thus the potential for this to become a very serious economic issue. USDA funding has appeared, and scientists are working against the clock on every angle of the problem.

Dr. Stanton Gill, Extension Specialist in IPM for Nurseries and Greenhouses at the UM Central Maryland Research and Education Center, is among them. He is not only a great entomologist, but a total hoot, just like several other bug people I know.  He’s doing plenty of conventional research as well as loads of critical Extension service spread out over several states. As an orchard and nursery owner, he also has a personal stake in the issue.

I had the pleasure of hearing about Dr. Gill’s latest work at a recent nursery association meeting. He related the severity of the problem as well as several stink bug-related research projects he’s involved with, but the one that really caught my attention was his work with chickens.

On a tip from a gardener/hen owner, Dr. Gill decided to explore further. In a nutshell: the stink bomb hidden in the thorax of Halyomopha species is a terrific defense mechanism against bird and reptile predators. But chickens seem to be immune (and unconcerned about their breath). Actually, not a big surprise – I’ve caught my hens eating some pretty amazing/disgusting things.  His preliminary study consisted of a few borrowed hens in a couple of nice little fresh-air pens, free to scratch about. A request to some battle-weary local gardeners yielded tupperware containers full of brown marmorated stink bugs. Through some feeding trials, he found… a hen’s capacity for stink bugs knows no bounds.

The hens had access to their regular feed, but gobbled up all the stink bugs offered. I can’t recall the exact quantity, but it was A LOT.

Stink – it’s what’s for dinner.
Action photo courtesy of Dr. Stanton Gill, University of Maryland
.

The hens would only go for the stink bugs if they were active.  Dr. G. put some in the freezer (stink bugs, that is), rendering them immobile, and the girls turned their beaks up. Once thawed and moving (!!!), they became dinner.

Finally, he worked with a food scientist to answer what should now be a burning question – did the eggs taste funny?  Blind taste tests found that participants preferred the eggs produced by the stink bug-eating hens versus controls. I believe further studies may be in the works, as well as some publications relating his findings.

* Ha, ha, I kid!!! This post is neither an endorsement nor recommendation of the research described within. There is no MSDS available. No REI. No PPE guidelines. No EPA approval. No acronyms at all, actually. You’re on your own.

The Glories of The Winter Greenhouse

I’m a Southerner. With a capital “S”.  Which is why I am Suffering, with another capital “S”. Here in the Blue Ridge mountains of western Virginia, we have officially surpassed Anchorage and Denver in total snowfall for the season. Today’s batch adds up to 24″ on the ground at our farm.


Blueberries in the snow. If one more person says “Probably good for all the insect problems,” I’m going to get violent.

The chickens are not happy. They’ve been cooped up (ha! I didn’t really mean to do that!) for 10 days straight. I myself suffer from cabin fever, limp hair, seasonal depression, and a persistent cough.


Hell no, we won’t go!

What keeps me from going totally nuts? Only the best $12,000 ever spent – no,no, not granite counter tops…it’s our very own greenhouse. This modest 24′ x 48′ polycarbonate sheet hoop house may not resemble a Victorian conservatory (you can get one of those beauties here), but it works like a champ.  Yes, we have greenhouses on campus for research and teaching, but that’s work; and pet plants are frowned upon.

Nothing beats your own private winter hideaway. My plant-diva-friend Elissa uses her crowded greenhouse for not only her immense plant collection, but also a festive (if cramped) happy hour.

As sleet pelts the roof, I’m surrounded by green: tropical plants dug up from the garden before frost and those “pets in pots” accumulated from hither and yon.  The humidity is wonderful – I can hear my skin go “aaahhhh” after a couple of hours.


Herd o’ Agaves and succulents. They’re perfectly happy with the cool temperatures – several are blooming.

I’ve dreamed of one for years; then finally took the jump 16 months ago. Again, it’s nothing a homeowner’s association would ever approve of; just a commercial-grade, heavy duty, Quonset-type production house. Stylistic concerns were sacrificed for square footage. The most common complaint from home greenhouse owners is “I wish I had built a bigger one.”

The other concern is heating costs. It has a propane heater, and propane’s not cheap, nor environmentally friendly. But we run it pretty darn cold – around 48 F night temperatures, which certainly helps. Are the tropicals thrilled? Not really, but they’re alive and hanging in there (however, the begonias are really grumpy right now).

Some PVC pipe + overhead misting + heating mat = broccoli spinach, and basil seedlings, happily germinating at a 75 F soil temperature, despite an air temperature below 50 F. Basil?! Yes, I realize I’m totally jumping the gun timing-wise here, made worse by the fact that I teach both greenhouse management and ornamental plant production (do as I say, not as I do!).

Yep, more fun than you can shake a shovel at!
I’ll take your questions, comments, and snowballs now…