Editors' Blog
Here's what the Zone 4 editors have to say.
Rain
As I write this, it’s raining. Hard. In fact, a few minutes ago marble-size hail thundered down on the metal office roof. As soon as it passed I ran out to the garden to see if any damage had been done. Not much, thankfully. Not like the hailstorm that passed through Gallatin Valley last summer, doing millions of dollars damage to auto dealers and farmers, and much to the pride of local gardeners.
This must be the wettest summer in a decade. Usually by now our unwatered lawn is brown, and so are the mountainsides. This year there’s still green on them thar hills. The obvious bonus is not having had to water as often as in previous summers. But we’ve also had cooler nights and some of my vegetables are behind schedule.
Last June, when a heavy, wet snow was forecast, I quickly made up several hoop tunnels with PVC and row cover fabric, and they did the job. I’ve left the hoops up all summer and come September I’ll lower the fabric when the temps drop. I’d hate to lose what appears to be a bumper crop of tomatoes.
We’re working hard on the Winter issue this month and next, as well as on stories and photographs for next Spring and Summer. Articles can be written right up to the deadline, but the photos must be taken in season (when we’re putting together the Summer issue, it’ll be spring and there’ll be snow on the ground!). Obviously, this requires some long-range planning. Either that or run generic photos bought from a stock agency, which a lot of magazines do. Anyone can run close-ups of pretty flowers. We want photos of the actual story subjects, whether it’s a garden or a person. This takes more work and more time, but we think it’s worth it. And hope you do, too.
As always, we love hearing from you. Tell us what you’re doing in your corner of paradise. And send pix!
New Payment Options
Until last week, readers who wanted to subscribe online had two options: download and print a PDF subscription form, or deal with PayPal. Some of our readers didn’t care for the second option, even though it is possible to bypass membership and pay with a standard credit card. Apparently the navigation isn’t as clear as it could be.
We now have a shopping cart system through our Web host, and Authorize.net credit card processing, which assures secure transactions. You can pay online with Visa, MasterCard, American Express, Discover, Diners Club, and with an eCheck, in which you “write” an electronic check on your checking account.
We apologize to those would-be subscribers who did not cotton to our earlier payment options; judging by the number of new subscribers using the shopping cart, customer confidence is much higher with the new system.
At present, there are only two “products” in the “store”: a 1-year subscription, and a 2-year subscription. At some point (when we come up for air), we’ll sell other items we think are special and worth bringing to the attention of readers—a few garden tools and clothing items for starters. Stay tuned. And thanks for reading Zone 4!
Memorial Day: Time to Plant!
The wisdom around Southwest Montana is not to plant outdoors until Memorial Day. Well, our veterans’ holiday is early this year, and the likelihood of another snow or frost gives one pause, especially if you’ve been fooled before. And we have!
Our first summer in Montana, a big, wet, heavy snowfall hit on June 10, bringing down branches and powerlines across town. You’d think that would have taught us, but no, fooled by sun and warm temperatures in May, we’ve planted—and paid.
Today’s weather is about what Andra and I experienced during a getaway to Grand Junction, Colorado, in late April-early May: shortsleeves, the trees budding, and the early spring flowers in bloom. There’s no denying it: even within our five-state area of coverage, bloom dates vary by a month and more. But as Dr. Bob keeps reminding us, there are other factors affecting Rocky Mountain gardeners that are just as important as average minimum temperatures: cool nights, clay soil, high altitude, wind, hail…you know the deal.
Yesterday I visited Doug Badenoch, who owns the Wine Gallery here in Bozeman, and who writes our reviews of locally produced wines. We talked about when it’s safe to plant outdoors. Doug said, “My brother is an avid gardener, and he told me: ‘Never plant until after the snow melts on Mt. Baldy.” Looking up at the nearby Bridger Mountains, we could see snow on Baldy’s ridge. The message: be patient. Memorial Day may come and go, and it may hit 80°F, but I’m waiting until the mountain is all brown.
A Cold One in My Hands
Issue No. 2 arrived a few days ago. The 80-foot truck was too big to come down our driveway so I had to meet it on the road with our pickup and transfer the pallet over. After a week of 60°F sunny days, it was snowing again. I drove back down the drive to our office door. Andra helped me move 3,250 copies of the Summer Issue inside. The rest of the print run was on trucks heading to our newsstand and bookstore distributors.
The magazine business is funny. Or maybe it’s the whole publishing world of books and newspapers, too. You bust your butt getting the issue out, reading, editing, proofing, and more proofing, until you know the thing as intimately as your own hand. You know every word and every photo. If you didn’t write the word or take the photo, you know the person who did. You asked them to write the article and take the photo. And then you worked it over. Sent it back with questions first, later for their approval. By the time you ship the issue to the printer you really can’t look at it another time.
Then a week passes. The proof copy comes FedEx from the printer. Once more, yet again, you read the issue word for word, looking for mistakes that eluded you the 19 other times you read it. There always are a few. Corrections at this stage are expensive—something like $50 a page. It adds up quickly, so you fix the worst and let the others go, hoping the readers will never notice.
Despite this over-familiarity with the publication, for some reason you can’t wait to see the REAL THING. To pull out your pen knife, cut the tape on the nearest box, pull out the top copy, and hold it in your hands. As if you expect to be surprised. To find something fresh and different. Of course, it is exactly as you remember it. The cover photo. The blurbs you wrote trying to lure newsstand tire kickers into picking it up and carrying it to the cash register. Willing to part with $6.95. Every page, exactly as you remember it.
And yet, and yet…the real thing is somehow different. You love it. This is why you’re in the publishing business. You can’t believe you made this darn thing. Pat yourself on the back. “Nice job!” you tell yourself.
Once Andra and I had all the boxes moved safely inside, out of the falling snow, we cut open a box and each took a copy. Having spent the last two days inside an unheated truck, they were cold to the touch.
I took mine inside the house, grabbed a cold one of another variety out of the fridge, and sat down to admire both of the cold ones in my hands.
Andra came in and said, “Funny how you can’t wait to get them. And soon as you do, you can’t wait to get rid of them.”
Not that we don’t like them. We just want to put a cold one in your hands. Coming to you soon!
Tomato Tip
Master gardener John Austin stopped by our table at the Bozeman Home & Garden Show to present us with a “magazine warming” gift—a 7-week-old ‘Early Annie’ tomato plant. He told us the plant had been cold stressed. Asked to explain he said he started the seedling with 16 hours of light daily, from a small 100-watt fluorescent bulb positioned 2-3 inches above. Then after 3 weeks—just when the first true leaves started to appear—he reduced light to just 12 hours a day. He maintained temperatures at about 55°F at night and 65° during the day. After another 3 weeks he returned to the 16-hour-per-day regimen. The result: edible fruit 2-3 weeks earlier than if he had not cold stressed the plant. And that, he says, is why he always has tomatoes by the Fourth of July…much to many people’s amazement. In Southwest Montana, he starts tomatoes around April 1, transplants around June 1, and begins eating the fruit of his labors on Independence Day.
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