About two weeks ago, Dan turned to me ask, “Uh… when are your plants on the balcony going to die?”
It was an excellent question. I should note that I’ve been planning their demise since the first of September. I stopped watering them for two weeks. TWO WEEKS. Because, around that time, we were going on a week’s vacation and I decided to start to neglect them in preparation.
The plan was that the begonias and kale die while we were away. They did not. Apparently begonias and kale plants are very hardy. VERY hardy.
In fact, my whole summer is a study in the hardiness of begonias and kale. While raising my first crop ever of begonias, I noticed that most British pubs also prefer begonias as a decorative plant. As a result, I became disenchanted with my copious gorgeous yellow, red and white flowers. I kept walking by endless pubs with hanging arrangements of under-watered, underfed begonias, smokers standing underneath and the occasional bar scuffle occurring nearby. Now, to me, begonias are a pub flower. I’m not sure I want to raise pub flowers. Yes, it’s some bizarre form of snobbery.
However, the kale has been an even greater nightmare that just keeps going. Somehow, on our THIRD floor balcony the fifteen kale plants attracted aphids, or, less elegantly, white flies. Apparently—based upon research online– all brassica plants attract white flies. I tried really, really hard to fight the white flies. I used some organic recipe from about.com to fight them. That killed three of the plants and left the flies. So, I bought “Bug Control,” an expensive organic spray, which worked but was a tremendous pain in the bum to apply to each leaf, every day. The stupid flies just kept coming back. I couldn’t bring myself to complain, nor blog my frustration, because if I mentioned the infestation of bugs to Dan, I knew he would be so livid and grossed out that he’d never endorse any future balcony gardens. So, defeated by the brassica plants, I culled the few baby kale leaves I could for salad leaves. The other leaves turned yellow and shriveled, and I thought that was the end. But, then, THEN, there was a cold spell. The flies died. The kale bounced back. And now it’s out there on the balcony, taunting me. At least it is too chilly for the flies to return.
So, I am thinking tumbling tomatoes for next summer. Forget the kale. Maybe I will just have begonias again, too. It’s possible that the begonia plugs I have will survive the winter…
Kris in Notts 