Pest Management: prevention

It’s nearly spring, so naturally my thoughts turn to the subject of pests. Our big pest-related project in the garden this year is bird netting a third of the vegetable garden, so we don’t lose most of our tomatoes and peas to the feathered rats.

Aphids–the one on the right is healthy, the one on the left has been parasitised by a wasp, one of the many natural enemies that keep aphids under control in the garden.

As an entomologist whose research focused on Integrated Pest Management, I always have a lot to say about pests. And it’s an important topic—globally, 30-40% of crop yield is lost to pests (interestingly, this figure didn’t change with the advent of chemical pesticides—insect pests are incredibly quick to evolve pesticide resistance). That’s a lot of wasted food!

For home gardeners, fighting pests is a daily task. Every place I’ve gardened has its own unique pest problems. Growing up in Lancaster Country, Pennsylvania, I remember the rabbits munching through the garden. In State College, Pennsylvania it was flea beetles that shot so many holes through my eggplants’ leaves they never had a chance to grow, and the squash bugs that clustered in masses under the leaves of my zucchinis. In Panama, leaf cutter ants could strip a plant bare in no time. 

In my first garden in New Zealand, aphids and rabbits were my main problems. When we first arrived on the property, there were so many rabbits I wondered if I’d be able to grow anything. A rabbit-proof fence was the first garden project there.

In my current garden, birds are my worst enemy—mostly English sparrows and European blackbirds. They strip seedlings bare, eat tomatoes, pull out onions, and scratch away mulch and soil, leaving plant roots to dry out (never mind the amount of chicken feed they snarf down every day!). 

Fortunately for me (and unfortunately for the pests), my masters degree focused on Integrated Pest Management (IPM), so I’m well-armed when it comes to tackling pest problems.

IPM is often called common sense pest control. In IPM, the goal isn’t to eliminate pests, but to minimise the damage pests cause, while choosing the most environmentally-friendly control methods that do the job.

To successfully use IPM, you must first know your enemy. What conditions does it like? What’s its life cycle? What are its natural enemies? How does it find your plants, and how does it travel? Books and the internet can tell you a lot, but careful observation of the pests in your garden is key. The particular conditions in your garden will affect how pests behave, and where their weaknesses are. If you know exactly where pests are and what they’re doing in your garden, you can begin to tackle them more effectively. For example, I know that in my current garden, there are particular varieties of squash the aphids like. By keeping an eye on those particular plants, I can catch aphid infestations early and deal with them before they spread to more plants.

Bird netting protecting pea seedlings

Once you know your pest’s habits, you can begin to consider control methods. Questions to ask:

  1. Can you time your plantings to avoid the damaging stage of the pest’s life cycle? For example, I don’t grow brassicas during the summer here—I have an early spring crop and a winter crop. By avoiding brassicas in summer, I eliminate bad problems with cabbage white butterflies, which tend to reach damaging levels around Christmas. I still have to be on the lookout for butterfly eggs on my seedlings, but once the plants are growing, they easily stay ahead of the caterpillars.
  2. Can you exclude the pests from your crops during critical time periods? For example, psyllids can transmit disease to potatoes and tomatoes, leading to poor growth and damaged tubers. By covering the plants with a fine mesh cloth, I can keep the psyllids out for most of the summer (until the plants are too big for the covers, by which point the psyllids don’t seem to be much of a problem). I do the same for my peas and lettuces—netting out birds until the plants are large enough to handle losing a few leaves. I also net my berry crops and olives before the fruits start ripening, so the birds don’t pick them before I do.
  3. Can you plant varieties the pests don’t like as much? For example, I plant mostly red varieties of lettuce, because the aphids take longer to discover them than they do the green ones. Usually, by the time the aphids find my red lettuces, they’re bolting and ready to pull out anyway.
  4. Can you plant a ‘trap’ crop that the pests like more than your favourite vegetables? I haven’t done this explicitly, but as I mentioned earlier, there are certain varieties of plants I know are particularly tasty to pests, and I closely monitor them and kill the pests on them before they can spread to other crops. A true trap crop is something you’re willing to pull out entirely when it is infested by your pest, in order to destroy the pest.
  5. Can you prevent pests from finding your crop? Interplanting different crops can help disrupt the spread of pests, because they struggle to find new plants to feed on. It can also help you make the most of the space in your garden. For example, I sometimes plant summer lettuces in the shade of my sweetcorn—not only does the shade help prevent the lettuce from bolting, it also seems to hide the lettuce from aphids.
  6. Can I encourage the pests’ natural enemies? Many pest insects are preyed upon or parasitised by the larvae of beetles , flies and wasps. The adults often eat pollen and nectar, so planting herbs and flowers is a great way to encourage many pests’ natural enemies.

All six of the questions above will help you avoid a pest problem in the first place. They are changes in the way you plant or grow your crops that make it less likely you’ll have pest problems. Tomorrow, I’ll look at what you can do once you’ve discovered pests in your garden.

Mt Richardson–a beautiful winter hike

View across Lees Valley from Mt Richardson

Injuries and weather have conspired to keep me out of the mountains for months, but my husband and I finally made it to the hills a few weekends ago.

It wasn’t a big trip—just a little jaunt to the top of Mt Richardson, one of the foothills around Oxford.

At only 1047 metres tall, Mt Richardson doesn’t get above tree line, but a clearing at the top provides a great view of the ‘real’ mountains beyond.

The day we went was sunny and nearly windless. There was snow on the ground, but we ate lunch at the top in our t-shirts, enjoying the stunning panorama spread out around us.

I would say that the only things that diminished the perfection were the mud, the slip that took out a section of track (necessitating a bit of bushwhacking) and the washed-out bridge that meant wading through an icy stream, but those things only added to the fun. 

I look forward to better weather and more outdoor adventures as we head into spring.

Ready, Set, Plant!

Looking forward to scenes like this in the coming weeks …

My seed order arrived last week, and I’ve stocked up on seed raising mix in preparation for this coming weekend.

The middle of August marks the start of spring planting, even though officially spring is still two weeks away (in spite of this week’s cold and snow).

This weekend I will plant hundreds of vegetable seeds—broccoli, cauliflower, cabbage, lettuces, spinach, onions, peppers, eggplants, herbs—a combination of early crops that can handle the cold and slow-growing late crops that need a long time in the greenhouse or indoors. 

This weekend is always a bit exciting and a bit daunting. Daunting because whatever winter projects I had going are doomed to the back burner until next April. Daunting because of the vast amount of work to get done in the coming months. And exciting because of the pleasure I get out of growing delicious food, and the joy of trying out new varieties of vegetables each year (this year, I’m trying Bartowich Parsley for the first time, a purple snow pea, a new hot pepper, and a couple of new tomato varieties).

I used to get overwhelmed at this time of year by the sheer amount of work ahead, but I’ve learned to manage the work, and more importantly the stress, by creating a weekend-by-weekend to-do list that runs from mid-August through the end of November. The list includes all the annual garden tasks associated with spring—planting seeds, potting up seedlings, preparing garden beds, setting up trellises, cleaning greenhouses, maintaining irrigation lines, fertilising weeding, mulching … With everything on the list, I know I won’t miss any tasks and everything will be done on time.

Obsessive compulsive? Yeah, probably. But it means I can fully enjoy each and every task without stressing about the fact I’m NOT doing something else. 

So from tomorrow, if you need to catch me on the weekend, I’ll be in the garden. 

Matariki Lights

Photo by Klemen Vrankar on Unsplash

On the eve of Matariki, I woke to an empty house, which meant I didn’t have to tiptoe around being quiet until my husband woke. 

The morning being dark and cold, I decided to start the day with music, and because we’re so close to Matariki and the promise of longer days to come, I searched up music with the word light in the title.

So my day started with Phil Collins’ song, Dance Into the Light, Lorde singing Green Light, Light (My Time Has Come) by Madison Ryann Ward, Nu Aspect’s Light, and One More Light by Linkin Park.

What a great way to start the day, to start the new year, to celebrate all that has passed and all that is to come.

Whatever your plans for celebrating Matariki this weekend, I hope it is full of the light cast by people you love and things that make you happy. 

And as I look forward to the coming growing season, the challenges and opportunities that the coming year has in store, I’m going to try to inject more music into my mornings.

So come on, dance into the light with me. Here’s a little poem I scribbled down on the solstice—it’s equally pertinent for Matariki.

On the darkest day
We turn to the light,
Hope for a ray to warm our cheek.

On the darkest day
We look to the stars,
Imagine constellations
To guide our stumbling steps.

On the darkest day
We light a fire,
Praying the kindling
Is still dry.

On the darkest day
We gather our whānau,
Tell stories of sunlight.

On the darkest day
We find comfort in the night,
In the slow circle of the seasons,
The dance of faraway suns
Across a black sky.

On the darkest day
We recall deeds of light,
Sun-dappled paths,
And warm sand.

On the darkest day,
Even on the darkest day
There is light.

Butter, Butter … and more butter

I checked out a cookbook from the library last week called Butter, Butter, by Petra Galler. I was sold on it before I even opened the book—the subtitle is ‘Sometimes more is more.’ The photography is dark and sensual, with lots of dripping honey, and hands smeared with berries and icing. Who could resist?

Indeed, I’ll be looking for this book next time I’m in the bookstore—it’s one I’d like to have on hand permanently, not just for a few weeks.

I want to try everything in this book. Petra is a Jewish New Zealander, and her recipes combine traditional Jewish dishes with modern Kiwi flavours in a way I find intriguing.

Yesterday I tried her recipe for Mandelbrot, a twice-baked cookie similar to biscotti, but higher in fat, so it has a more delicate texture. 

As you would expect from a book titled Butter, Butter, these cookies are rich—full of butter, eggs, nuts, and chocolate. Although they take some time to make, they’re not difficult, and the end result is beautiful and delicious.

I haven’t had a chance to make anything else from this book yet, but next on my to-bake list is Tahini Shortbread with Salted Chocolate Ganache, then Almond Butter Brownies, then Miso and Roasted White Chocolate Cookies, and then … Seriously, I need to go purchase a copy of this book. You do too. Here’s the Mandelbrot recipe, but don’t stop there. Buy the book. And a few blocks of butter …

390 g plain flour
2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp flaky salt
1 1/4 tsp ground cinnamon
1/4 tsp ground nutmeg
245 g butter, melted and cooled
200 g caster sugar
2 tsp vanilla paste
1/4 tsp almond extract
zest of 1 lemon
zest of 1 orange
3 eggs
180 g dark chocolate, roughly chopped
100 g walnuts, roasted and roughly chopped

For dusting:
30 g caster sugar
1/4 tsp ground cinnamon

In a medium bowl, combine all the dry ingredients, mixing well.

Place the butter, sugar, vanilla, almond extract and zests in a large bowl and whisk with a mixer until combined. Add the eggs one at a time and mix until thick and pale; about 2-3 minutes.

Working by hand, gently fold the dry ingredients into the wet until just combined. Add the chocolate and walnuts, and mix well. Cover the bowl and refrigerate 1-2 hours until firm.

Preheat the oven to 175℃ fan-bake. Grease a large baking sheet.

Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured surface and divide into two pieces. Form each piece into a log about 33 cm long and 5 cm wide. Place on the prepared tray and bake for 25 minutes.

Allow to cool for 10-15 minutes. Reduce the oven temperature to 130℃ fan-bake. Then cut the logs diagonally into 2 cm thick slices. Sprinkle both cut sides with the cinnamon/sugar mix, and bake them, cut side up for 20 minutes. Flip the slices over, then bake another 20 minutes. 

Allow to cool completely on the pan.

Release Day!

Demonic Summoning for the Modern Woman is here! Woo hoo!

Alex Blackburn is not a witch.

So how the hell did she summon a demon?

More importantly, how is she going to get rid of it?

When Alex Blackburn returns to small-town Rifton to settle her grandmother’s estate, she doesn’t expect to uncover Gran’s secret affair or to accidentally summon a giant centipede from the netherworld.

With a pet-eating demon on the loose, Gran’s things to dispose of, and only two weeks off work, she doesn’t have time to waste. Getting rid of the creature is her first priority. 

Shelby Saunders, grandson of Gran’s lover, might just be the one to help her. If she can convince him the demon is real.

Can two people who don’t believe in magic conjure enough of it to send a demon home? In Rifton, you never know what might happen.

This cosy urban fantasy set in small-town New Zealand will have you checking under your seat for centipedes and cheering on Alex and Shelby as they bumble their way around magic and each other. The first in a brand new series of magical adventures set in Rifton.

Demonic Summoning for the Modern Woman

I’m thrilled to announce that the e-book edition of Demonic Summoning for the Modern Woman is now available for preorder, and will be released on 20 March along with the print edition!

Alex Blackburn is not a witch.

So how the hell did she summon a demon?

More importantly, how is she going to get rid of it?

When Alex Blackburn returns to small-town Rifton to settle her grandmother’s estate, she doesn’t expect to uncover Gran’s secret affair or to accidentally summon a giant centipede from the netherworld.

With a pet-eating demon on the loose, Gran’s things to dispose of, and only two weeks off work, she doesn’t have time to waste. Getting rid of the creature is her first priority. 

Shelby Saunders, grandson of Gran’s lover, might just be the one to help her. If she can convince him the demon is real.

Can two people who don’t believe in magic conjure enough of it to send a demon home? In Rifton, you never know what might happen.

This cosy urban fantasy set in small-town New Zealand will have you checking under your seat for centipedes and cheering on Alex and Shelby as they bumble their way around magic and each other. The first in a brand new series of magical adventures set in Rifton.

Cover Reveal–Demonic Summoning for the Modern Woman

I’m thrilled to be able show you this fabulous cover (designed by the awesome Jenn Rackham) for my upcoming cosy urban fantasy!

Alex Blackburn is not a witch.

So how the hell did she summon a demon?

More importantly, how is she going to get rid of it?

When Alex Blackburn returns to small-town Rifton to settle her grandmother’s estate, she doesn’t expect to uncover Gran’s secret affair or to accidentally summon a giant centipede from the netherworld.

With a pet-eating demon on the loose, Gran’s things to dispose of, and only two weeks off work, she doesn’t have time to waste. Getting rid of the creature is her first priority. 

Shelby Saunders, grandson of Gran’s lover, might just be the one to help her. If she can convince him the demon is real.

Can two people who don’t believe in magic conjure enough of it to send a demon home? In Rifton, you never know what might happen.

This cosy urban fantasy set in small-town New Zealand will have you checking under your seat for centipedes and cheering on Alex and Shelby as they bumble their way around magic and each other. The first in a brand new series of magical adventures set in Rifton.

Coming April 2023!

A Perfect Hike–Mount Bealey

A few days ago, my husband, son and I went for a hike up Mount Bealey. This was my husband and my second trip up, but the first was a hastily planned late-autumn post-lockdown get-us-the-f@*k-out-of-the-shed hike, and we ran out of daylight to make it to the summit. This time, we had plenty of time to reach the peak.

The day was absolutely perfect, with early low cloud burning off before we reached the tree line, and just enough breeze at the top to cool off.

The climb up is fairly steep in places—the track more of a ladder than a trail. But that’s to be expected around Arthur’s Pass, and I prefer an interesting scramble over a steady upward slog anytime. The beech forest is lovely, with tantalising peeks down to the ever-receding village of Arthur’s Pass.

Breaking out above tree line makes the scramble worthwhile, with views of multiple 100-metre-tall waterfalls in the valley below, and the snow-covered peaks above.

We had lunch on the summit and spent a long time simply enjoying the 360-degree landscape of jagged peaks and vertiginous valleys. We had the summit (and in fact most of the track) to ourselves. Not even a kea came to visit us on the peak—no doubt they were hanging out with the hoards of people on top of the more popular Avalanche Peak. 

One of the best things about being on the summit was the chance to see other places we’ve hiked and put them all into a cohesive understanding of the landscape. There is satisfaction in that intimate knowledge of a place—to know the chill of the icy river below as well as having the bird’s-eye perspective of the river’s braided channel from the mountain above.

The trip took us a bit under seven hours, with the long lunch break on top, and we reached the car by 4pm. An ice cream at Arthur’s Pass was the perfect end to a perfect hike.

Panorama of the view to the west from the summit