Garlic Woes.

As a novice gardener, I (the songbird) tend to take on ambitious projects with little fear and reckless abandon. At the beginning of November, one such project began. Inspired by my east-coast Dad's garlic bounty, I set out to grow my own.

Let me begin by saying, my Dad is a garlic master. He has his own, custom strain. He has introduced genetic variables along the way to keep his garlic strong. He frequently taste-tests raw cloves to ensure their pungency, flavor, and overall "garlic rating" before planting them in his next crop. In short; My Dad is a Garlic Master. 

I am not a garlic master. In Fact, this year's crop is my first. 

Per guidelines in Sunset Magazine (your guide to living in the west), Late October/Early November was the time to set out your garlic crop. I did it. I purchased promising looking fists of garlic from the local market, amended the soil in our raised bed, and set the cloves out spaced appropriately. All seemed to be going well. I felt good about it, even.

Shortly after setting the cloves, disaster struck. I went to examine their progress and was amazed to see the bed upturned, the cloves laying vulnerable and naked in the equivalent of the fetal position for garlic cloves on top of the cold, sandy dirt. It looked like a crime scene. I hastily reburied the little garlic bodies, gave the soil a firm pat, applied water & attempted to erase the gruesome scene from my memory. 

A few days later, I again went to check their progress. The scene was the same; bed in a state of dishabille, garlic cloves laying like wanton, drunken frat boys in the dirt, naked roots reaching out to touch something tangible in a dark, cold world. Again, I uttered some appropriate curses, replaced the cloves, and got on with it. 

This same scene has replayed several times since with no evidence as to the culprit. I just replaced the cloves today, for the umpteenth time, covered them with a liberal top-dressing of compost & places a piece of lattice over top to protect them from critters and vagrants. Wish me luck!