Peathetic, that's what it is, peathetic

Anyone else obsessively read Winnie the Pooh to their children? That story was one of my favorites. Poor Eeyore and his birthday party. Aaaaat any rate. . .

All of the children love snow peas. They get sort of fought over in stir fries and other dishes. Many of the kids like shelled peas, also. Those get stirred into pasta, and I remember the kids eating them as little frozen snacks when only babies (the kids, not the peas).

So I figured, based on last year, that I'd grow both kinds.

"Alaska" seems to be a basic bush pea, that many seed companies carry. They're supposed to get 30" tall, so I figured I'd try the compostable sticks method of staking them. Seems to be working out well -- they're blooming and setting peas and I'm sure they're going to enjoy ten straight days of rain next week.


I also tried "Canoe," a pea from Territorial, as they promised that there would be so many peas crammed into each pod that it wouldn't matter how many you planted -- peas galore. They are significantly shorter, so far, than the Alaska peas, and while the Alaskas have small leaves and graceful, delicate tendrils, the Canoe are like the rugby players of peas.


Rugby players with wild, enthusiastic hair. Their tendrils grow in bunches, like ferns with attitude. I don't know if they hold on any tighter; they're not that big yet.

We'll see if they respond happily to their upcoming near drowning.

So far, so good. But what about snow peas? Remember, I was going to grow so many that we could stuff our freezer full of them and not buy any more packaged, sad-looking snow peas? I even planted the long bed, where the tomatoes had been, full of them, all along the sides of the drip hoses. We were going to do nothing but pick peas.

The birds appear to have had other ideas.


Although the peas have sprouted well, every single one seems to have sustained multiple bird attacks. It's "off with their heads" all the time in that bed. I don't know if the birds have noticed the golden snow peas planted later in the lower half of that bed. Last year, there was the same problem. Apparently it's a timing issue -- they just have to get big enough to not be interesting, and these were planted at just the right time to seem like a thoughtful buffet for the beaky ones. I don't want to fuss with bird netting, so I'm going to plant again and again, just before the rainstorms, and see if I can get a few crops out of this.

Remind me of that when I'm moaning about how many peas there are to pick and freeze, okay?
Michelle, or as I refer to her privately, "The Studmuffin of Seed Saving," sent me some "Green Beauty" snow peas. Here's where they're going to go, after I rip out the sourgrass, of course.

These are going to get a little Reemay jacket until they're big enough to stand up to the bullies.

Hope your predators are either too cold to predate or elsewise occupied!