Thank heavens for Iowans, I think.

I ran into a sizable bunch of them and they told me, in no uncertain terms, just exactly how to tell when the corn is ripe. So here goes, via the Iowans: After the tassel (that's the thing on top of the stalk) has been out for two weeks (maybe three) and the silk (that's the part on the actual ear) is brown (or, almost brown, but not quite brown) the corn is ready to eat. Maybe. Now, this is from people who live and die corn.

The garden magazines wouldn't believe that there is anyone in the whole world who is having a when-to-pick-the-corn dilemma.

I have decided that I will pick the corn when I intuit that it is ready to be eaten.

So far I have successfully grown asparagus and artichokes without ever once in my life having seen the plant before growing it in my own garden. I figure I can do the same with corn. The message here, fellow gardeners, is: Go forth and garden, the answers will come.

My nongardening spouse, John, has devised an excellent source for watering our garden: The basement sump is filling a 55-gallon drum every 24 hours. Prior to this, it drained into a ditch. I am not using this on the vegetable plot. I fear that this water contains contaminants, and I don't really want that on our food.

The vegetable garden is composed of 10 raised beds, a raspberry patch and a greenhouse. I water this with a hand-held hose. This allows the water to go exactly where it is needed. The garlic is no longer requiring water so three sections of one bed are not getting any water at all.

I really think the time has come for gardeners to be conscious of our water usage. I fear that the climate really is changing and we need to adapt our gardening habits accordingly. Raised beds are a first step in water conservation.

Our lawn consists of grass seed that we bought at the Wagon Wheel, our local feed and seed emporium on Ocean Drive. The word "Alaska" was in the name of the seed. This swayed us in our decision because neither John nor I could care less about a lawn. We both realize that grass is a dandy place for kids and dogs to play on, that it keeps the mud and dust out of the house and that it is a welcoming place to lay down and watch the sky while chatting to each other and/or friends. To manicure a lawn is not even in the realm of possibilities in our lives.

We manage to keep it mowed and sometimes trimmed around the edges. We have never ever fed it. When the seed was introduced to the soil we watered, until we lost interest, which was almost immediately. It became a lawn in spite of us.

I marvel at people who water their grass. There is one setup where a sprinkler is on some kind of an apparatus that is three feet high and the sprinkler is on top of this. It will be running during the hottest part of the day, which coincides with the day breeze. I can't help but wonder if any of the water ever hits the ground.

I am looking for a way to convince those who love their grass that they really need to convert part of that lawn into a vegetable plot.

Who wouldn't want to eat fresh produce all summer long? What better way to spend time outside than in your garden?

Composting is yet another step toward water conservation. There is nothing like compost in your garden soil to conserve moisture and promote healthy plants. And it really is easy to make. You do not need to read a 10-pound tome to figure out this most basic of procedures.

People have been composting for centuries, way before the word "compost" ever entered their vocabulary, before people even had a vocabulary. There is no big deal to this. I want you to compost.

The best food for your lawn is its own grass clippings, fine, but every now and again you will need a pile of them for your compost. This is not enough to deprive your grass of food. I use a GardenWay cart full of grass clippings every two weeks. I save all of the kitchen scraps in a bucket under the sink. When the harvest is coming in fast and furious, like it is now, I just pile up the scraps in the garden next to the compost bin.

The compost bin is made of rough-cut lumber. It consists of three bins that are three-foot squares. This seems to be the magic size. I shovel the grass clippings into the bottom about four inches deep, empty the bucket from the kitchen, add remnants from the harvest, shovel on a wheelbarrow of horse manure and then add another layer of grass. If there is enough to go around again, I will. If there are any fish carcasses, I will add them.

When it is so very dry like it has been most of the summer, I will water each layer as I go along. The whole thing is covered with plastic. I wait about three days and then I turn it over into the next bin, which is empty and just waiting for the opportunity to contribute its space to the betterment of mankind. I turn it back and forth every two or three days and then, in about two weeks, it goes into the third bin that holds the finished product. Simple.

You do not need bins. You can just make a pile on the ground. Same difference. Allow yourself enough room to turn the pile and a place to leave the finished compost.

There should be a garden with every house in this town and the surrounding area. When I take a walk through the neighborhoods and I see so much grass, I am just stumped as to why people put their energy into grass and not food.

Note: Homer Garden Club Garden Tour will be Aug. 15. Meet at City Hall at 2 p.m. to carpool to the gardens of Teena Garay, Brigitte Suter and Sunrise Sjoberg.