Elian gets a new home…

In October of 2010, I opened a compost bin. It had been “cooking” for at least four months, undisturbed. Dark and damp, the plant materials had been fodder for the microbes and the whole pieces had turned to powerful muck.

All except for this guy.
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The Pit That Earned a Pot. (Later renamed Elian by DH, for surviving a long “voyage” in a dark lonely place.) Time passed. We moved. Elian out grew pot after pot…

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Elian rode home with a friend a few weeks ago, to his new home across town. May the sun shine gently on his leaves and he continue to overcome the odds. Perhaps with any luck, he’ll be of a self-pollinating variety and we can have an avocado-inspired dinner party in his honor (where I will eat other things…)

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June the Plum Tree

Last year was her first year with us. A celebratory gift for DH getting all A’s for the year. She lives in a straw-topped pot on the back patio.

The birds beat us to the first ones yesterday. Today, we knew better. Ten delicious sweet globular candies are now on my counter…make that eight…

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Or seven…

Seasons are as seasons do.

On my trip this week to Houston I couldn’t help but notice the corn was higher than my head, with the tassels starting. Where I grew up there were corn farmers (and grass seed farmers, Christmas Tree farmers, cherry and peach and berry farmers…) and those farmers are just sowing their corn for the season now. 

Some years I have tomatoes by now, and this year I don’t. Some years the strawberries don’t have a chance to fruit well for the early onslaught of heat, this year they did (and continue to do so.)
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Seasons in Texas are measured two ways – in the classic four seasons (which are measured by what the calendar says it should be) and in the Texas weather way (Not Hot, Beautiful, Hot, Thunderstorm Season, Beautiful, repeat.) 

Depending on whether the storms come, or the heat is early or late, the plants do as their coding dictates. This keeps us gardeners on our toes! Not for late frosts or lack of sunlight, but for baked seedlings or flooded fruit. 

 

The backyard this year is the usual mixture of expectations met and seasonal surprises. Like finding more strawberries this morning. Or finding that this fern, so lush and happy in March…
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…is now gone without a trace.

Or that these plums just setting fruit in March…
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…have started to turn.
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Then there’s the Monster Chard that has been keeping you in gigantic leaves of green since October was discovered by the hungry hundred caterpillars.
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And the Forgotten Beet that made the most delicious “french fries” (thanks to DH’s talents.)
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Which reminds me, I need to not forget about the Onion Rope. The instructions on the internet conflicted with those in a book, which weren’t terribly clear. We’ll see how it goes, but it may just be that DH eats them all before they reach a questionable storage age anyway. (Onions being yet another food I enjoy growing but do not enjoy eating.)
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