The (not so) King of Peas

As much as I hate to admit it, not every veggie crop in my garden is the resounding success story I want it to be.  And to further rub salt into my wounded pride, is the fact that one of the easiest and most rewarding crops has been rather dismal this season.  Peas – snow and sugar snaps. 

The wife has not been happy with me.  So this is serious.

I have burned in quiet humiliation while less experienced veggie growers have eagerly described how their own beautiful crops are producing peas in abundance.  Everyone else has a plethora of long, green, crunchy pods that are as sweet and large as cucumbers, while mine have produced just a few small handfuls of peas - a miserable 10% of my expected returns.

Why is it so? (as the late Professor Sumner Miller would ask.)  Glad you asked.  A couple of reasons - or excuses, if you prefer:

• the framework I built for the peas to climb on this season was made with string, which did not provide enough stability during windy weather; 
• we’ve had a lot of wind this winter, so as a result the flower buds got blown about and knocked off; and,
• you guessed it, no flower buds equals no peas. 

I have planted a couple of rows of snow peas to make amends and to ensure my pride remains intact for future crops, this time I have made damn sure my framework does not have a piece of string within cooee of the joint.  I have given my pea babies a nice, solid piece of timber frame with solid wires to climb up instead. 

Then, my people, I shall be the King of Peas once more. Other veggie growers will view my lush beds with admiration.  The wife will be proud of me and I will be able to share them with others.  Soon we will again enjoy an over-abundance of large, long, green, crunchy peas as big as a surfboard. Yes we will. And all will be well in my garden kingdom once more.  So, how did your peas go?