I have been growing vegetables for more than 70 years. In England, where I was raised, we had victory gardens during and after WWII. My father had a garden with vegetables and fruit to sustain us, and he also rented a small plot from the local council. In time, I took over the allotment, as it was called, and grew the produce. This I sold to my relatives for pocket money. I never knew, nor did I care, about the cost of rental from the authorities. Therefore, I considered that I had a profitable enterprise.
In the last 20 years or so I have continued to grow veggies in my small back yard. I have two raised beds having dimensions about 12 x 3 ft. each. Also two or three large pots on my patio. In years past I've had good crops of tomatoes in the summer, and broccoli and cauliflower in winter. This year was different. My tomatoes were full of promise. The plants were growing large. The fruit was forming. But all of a sudden I found green tomatoes knocked to the ground, and many half eaten.
Previously, I had surrounded my beds with four foot high chicken wire, and even wire over the top. That was because deer had trespassed on my small garden, taking a liking for the plants including the stems. There was no evidence this year that deer or birds were the culprits. So in consultation with two of my wonderful neighbors, I used a hunting trail camera to determine the nature of the invaders. We played back the videos to see that raccoons had forced their way underneath the wire to steal my tomatoes. Using one of their large traps, we caught four raccoons on successive nights. These we transported to the country where they had to find other nutritious meals. Next, the trail cameras spotted mice invading the plot. So we switched from big traps to small, and eventually caught what appears to be the last of them. At least half of my crop had been stolen by all these predators.
Having spent most of my career in the business world, I naturally started to calculate the cost per pound of my veggies. To start with, there is the cost of the landscape timbers for the raised beds. Soil had to be imported. Plants purchased. These, I learned, had to be fairly large (and expensive) in order to bear the maximum fruit before the blazing summer sun prevented pollination, thus ending the production of fruit. Fertilizer must be bought to accelerate root and fruit growth. I try to avoid the use of chemicals, but over the years I have learned that horn worms are like vultures on tomato plants. If not caught early they will strip a plant of leaves, blossoms and fruit. So I had no cost for chemicals. But chicken wire does cost money.
I said before that I started to calculate the unit cost of my produce. But I quickly learned that this is, shall I say, a fruitless task. It's something like calculating the cost of seafood from a fishing trip to Alaska. I tell my wife that the fish is free. It's the entertainment with my friends that costs the money. With a small kitchen garden the benefits are not from saving money, but from the enjoyment of seeing something grow, and from the taste of a slice of fresh tomato with a little sharp cheddar on a rice cracker.
Peter Gilderson, Madison, 601-853-4632
