Final harvest

Jul13

Signing over the lease last night, I checked on the garden. The lettuce had long since bolted and gone to seed. The tomatoes and peppers were on round three, and everything was looking quite unkempt. As it should. It had not been keep in months aside from random rain and occasional soaking.

The strawberries, long since done for the year, were still alive at least…and joined by a new friend: ANOTHER volunteer avocado tree. This guy wasn’t there three months ago.

We picked our last pickings from the old garden yesterday. Leaving quite the number of Porter and San Marzano ripe on the vine for the new caretakers’ instant gratification, we brought home the ripe Black Prince, Cal Wonder Goldens, a handful of Porters, some jalapenos and Serranos.

Thankfully we’ve been making it to the market most Saturdays (previous two excluded) and enjoying the bounty of others as well.

It will be some time before we have home grown food again around here from our own home. Until then, thank goodness for farmers near and far keeping us in fruit and veggies (and meat and eggs!)

Thoughtful goodbyes and new beginnings…

Jun12

We moved on Monday. First of all, packing (and attempting to unpack) with a six week old who is just learning to be laid down for longer than ten minutes without melting…is an adventure. We’re making progress with a lot of creative problem solving and gratitude for grandparental help.

Saying goodbye to my first real outside garden is a mixed bag. It’s full of green tomatoes and baby peppers. The soup beans are only half-dried on the vine. The garlic aren’t done.

But the strawberries are done, the lettuce has bolted, and the three year old beets may actually be done giving us greens…

And the new house has so much space to play in…so much potential. Forget the 100 square foot bed I built, I could have ten of them! And still have room for DH’s miniature fruit orchard, a grass pad, and a kiddie pool.

So please join me, in a near-final farewell to this garden before I embark on the prepping and planning involved in turning a blank slate into happy beds full of tasty food.

The sage that wouldn’t die. We planted this 4″ sage in six inches of soil with a concrete foundation on one side and a sidewalk on the other, that bakes in the afternoon sun. It grew to take over the sidewalk and break three feet in height. DH chopped it down. It looks nice and happy again already.

Serrano peppers amidst the tomato jungle.

Some San Marzano tomatoes waiting to ripen.

One of many bell pepper plants getting busy…

The jalapenos spicing things up.

The lettuce (red romaine, cimmaron, little gem, and others) getting ready for next year.

Then we move to the front yard…

Delicate lavender.

Moss verbena making a go of it.

I forget this one’s name…

I won’t be around to see if this zinnia actually survives the heat long enough to bloom. (Or if the new tenants water it to give it a chance.)

The nasturtiums usually grow, flower, and finish up months prior. I’m not holding out hope this one will bloom…oh who am I kidding, of course I am!

Don’t worry, Bill the Lime came with us. (Although he’s pretty upset after that surprise freeze we got late in the season while we were out of town. We’ll need to give him a lot of love and a good pruning.

The raspberry bush (that doesn’t make raspberries) also came along. Perhaps putting it in the ground will make it bloom?

Oscar the Meyer lemon tree will hopefully not mind the move and give us some tasty treats in a few months.

The rue, ruefully, had to stay.

I haven’t seen another Mexican oregano for sale since I picked this one up nearly five years ago. I’ll have to try my hand at sourcing (and sowing) some from seed.

I did save extra seeds from my butterfly weed, so the new house will get to enjoy these “orange molar flowers” as DH calls them.

The fragrant mimosa decided to put out a late round of blooms (it blooms months ago as well) with all the rain and unseasonably cool (read: low 80s during the day, high 60s at night – downright chilly! And long gone. We’re into days in the mid 90s and nights in the high 70s now, and we’ll continue to rise another 10 degrees on both the high and the low.)

The larkspur was all done by Memorial Day last year, but is hanging on still.

The blanketflower is making quite the showing this year. This is one plant. The fields are alit in orange petals along the roadsides.

I don’t remember this daisy-cousin’s name.

I hope the tenants enjoy gardening…

And for anyone yearning for a new photo, the little gardener is now six weeks old.

I might be a little behind…and a little ahead.

Feb28

February 26th, 2012. The tomato plants that spent the year giving us over 100 pounds of tomatoes…

2012.02.26 tomatoes

February 23rd, 2014. The tomato plants I’ve started for this year…

Tomatoes could conceivably go into the ground in a week, and those babies are likely to be a tasty snack for a snail before they reach any size large enough to fend off attackers.

So DH and I are headed to The Natural Gardener today for a few things:
*Tomato plants
*Pepper plants, because they’re just as far behind
*Drip irrigation! (Maybe, if I can decide how many whatchamathings, dohickeys, and such to arrange)
*Soil food, as both of my compost piles are still cooking.

But in a few ways, I’m ahead of the game this year. I sowed the first round of beans yesterday. Some Tiger Eye and Yin Yang (soup beans) and some Soleil (green). Hopefully being two weeks early on 2012 sowings won’t be too much of a risk, but the extended forecast has some rain, a lot of sun in the 60s and 70s, and nothing lower than 40s at night.

Looking back at posts and photos from 2012, I find myself missing the extra 400 square feet I had that year. My three new beds this year will help scratch that itch some, and DH is talking about building a potato tower as well. I’m glad I ventured into a community garden plot, and depending on the timeline of when we move next and the space we move into, I may join one (a different one) again in the future. For now though, I’ll enjoy the isolation, the quiet, and the energy only from the sun and soil – enjoying my time away from the noise of others’ thoughts.

And then behind again, as I thought I’d posted this last Sunday.

We picked up everything except the peppers, which weren’t in stock yet (but are at the Farmer’s Market tomorrow!) The irrigation has been installed, and the weather forecast checked again so the tomatoes went in last Sunday.

Tomatoes

Nursey tomatoes are usually varieties I know little about, or am not sure actually work well where I am. Beefsteaks explode in the heat before they ripen, for example, and Brandywines need cooler temperature to set fruit than we have by the time they bloom.
These are both new-to-me varieites of Valley Girl on the left and Homestead #24 on the right.

And then the forecasters did what they do and changed their minds. 30 degrees Tuesday night. DH had also moved Bill the Lime Tree outside on the word of the forecasters, so Bill and the tomatoes shared a tarp Tuesday night and were no worse for the wear. In fact, the six inches of rain overnight the following evening really perked those tomatoes up!

We picked up some other tomatoes as well, that I’ll plant this weekend when it’s back to 80 degrees.

And in the meantime, the winter greens are trucking along come dry or high temperatures.
Greens

A royal surprise…

Jan29

I’ve been waiting, less than patiently, for months. Any progress? Any change? ANYTHING?

Then, three days ago, DH calls to me from outside, “Honey, you need to come here!” (I can’t tell from his tone if he’s found something really cool in an on-purpose way, or something really cool in a strangely-unexpected way.) I go outside.

He’s not by the main garden bed. He’s not by the compost or pomegranate or mulberry. He’s back by the grills (yes, two) standing in a large puddle of water.

“Did something burst?” I ask.
“No no, I was just watering. Look over there,” he soothes with a nod to the back corner bed.

Before I’m even there I can see what it’s going to be… Broccoli peek

Singing with color, prancing in illuminated drops of water, the broccoli has made broccoli. Purple broccoli

Even the little runt of the bed is basking in the sunlight. Little broccoli

I hope they’ve survived the freezing rain we had yesterday under their blanket! Tomorrow will warm up enough to uncover them and survey the damage.

The Black Prince wins the race (Moonglow was a close second.)

Jan22

Bill the Sunbird

Jan11

Bill, the lime tree, comes inside each winter. Most years, he serves double duty as Christmas Tree and air freshener. This year my folks gifted us with a noble fir from their neck o’ the woods and Bill was off the hook.

He spends his winter days dropping leaves and making buds. I don’t know enough about lime trees to know if this is normal behavior or not, but it’s worked for him these past years. He’s a Persian Lime, so his fruit is less tart than some varieties, larger than store limes, and on occasion it is sweet enough to simply eat. Usually we relish his hard work by adding it to drinks (fresh juice, sparkling water) or squeezing it atop Pad Thai or grilled chicken.

He is still working on one final lime from the fall season, and has gone bananas (or would it be limes?) getting ready for this year.

Lime nectar

Each flower bud starts ever so shy and tiny and then swells like a popcorn kernel. Before bursting forth into a five-pointed snowy star, a single droplet of nectar forms to attract any willing pollinators.

The nectar shines in the sunlight with hope and promise.
Bill nectar

Although with no pollinators in the house, I’m not sure it’s a necessary function for harvest as he has already set a few dozen limes and more buds are breaking.

What, if anything, do you bring indoors for the winter months?

Beginning…

Jan8

Folks are posting this week on the theme of beginnings. Anywhere their minds may wander from there is allowable. The word “beginning” sure lends itself to mind-wandering on my part…or perhaps that’s the ninja dance party in my belly these days causing the wandering…

It is the beginning of a new year, after all, and the beginning of a new season’s garden plotting. The mail box has shifted from holiday cards to seed catalogs. My drool-inducers have shifted from mac ‘n cheese to photograph after photograph of plant porn. (Ok, I lied, I will still drool over homemade mac n’ cheese…) My dining room table has let go of the wrapping paper and ribbon station and moved on to the inventorying of current stock.

The beginning ebbs and flows. Is the beginning the seed catalogs arriving? Or when I begin drafting on graph paper? Or when I pour the seed starter from the bag into the trays and smooth out the surface?

For today, let’s say the beginning is pulling out my seed stock and reacquainting myself with old favorites and rekindling excitement over new experiments to come.
1-DSC_0065

Things I learned from this beginning? For still not liking to eat tomatoes (I try to like them every year, I do!) I sure have a lot of tomato seeds…*cough* twenty-three varieties…*cough*

A winter’s promise.

Jan6

The same day we put in the starts, we kept going. I couldn’t very well leave more than half of a newly turned bed empty! Now there are a lot of options out there for labeling your plants, marking your rows, and otherwise organizing what-went-where in such a manner that you can recall what’s what when it comes time to evaluate who is a Re-do and who is a Poo-poo for next year. My favorite methods are generally simple, geometric, alphabetical, cheap, and biodegradable. If you didn’t guess already – I use sticks.

Why, what do you use?

Stick borders
Sticks marking out different planting areas for different seeds to be sown.

A lot of my gardening enjoyment comes from this very stage of the process. Sprout identification is fun for me. As soon as the first sprig of green appears, I’m guessing what it is and holding tight to the knowledge in my memory banks from past sowings. Part of it is pure nerdy pleasure, and part of it is not wanting to pull a “weed” that would actually be a beautiful, productive, or otherwise enjoyable volunteer. That, and surprises and mysteries are fun!

Lettuce mob
A mob of lettuce sprouts. I sowed maybe…five? varieties of lettuce this year. Some Cimmaron, some Little Gem, some others I’ll remember when they grow bigger…

Peas
There’s no mistaking a pea sprout for much of anything else. I’m holding hope they won’t die in a frost (or be nibbled) before finding the daylight required for a full-on growth spurt, but I’m also mentally prepared to resow during the “proper” time window awhile into the calendar yet.

Carrots
This year I’m attempting to follow conventional wisdom in more ways that rows. “Over-sow and thin” has always felt odd to me. A loss of preciously saved seed. A death of little plants that could grow into food. A waste.
After as many feast or famine years as I’ve had with carrots and lettuce, I’m giving it a go this spring. We’ll see how I feel when it comes time to actually thin them though…

Yarrow
The yarrow is alive! This is my third attempt to time sowing (and remember to water properly) to get these stinkers to sprout. Yarrow is supposed to be a wonderful attraction for beneficial insects, and I’ve sown a decent patch of two varieties smack dab in the middle of the bed.

I’ve honestly lost track of how old these beets are. I think they were softball-sized last spring? We’re harvesting the greens at this point, the beets having loooong ago gone woody. I’m curious when they’ll finally go to seed…

Beet
In the meantime, I have more (purchased) beet seeds making elegantly hued sprouts a few steps away.

And I think more broccoli…or it could be cauliflower. My brain has lost track of that memory and I don’t yet have the knowledge bank to differentiate between the two sprouts…if there even is a way.

What seeds are you sowing (or going to sow) for your first spring garden bites?

The difference a month makes.

Jan3

With DH’s urging and assistance, we hit up our favorite local garden center (Green and Growing) for some winter starts. In past years, I’ve tried starting these myself in June, indoors, to have ready to put out in the fall. This year…was not so much a gardening year. No such starts were started.

We picked up five broccoli, five purple cabbage, five “dino” kale, five red chard, and five golden chard. We also picked up some onion starts, strawberries, thyme, and parsley.

In they went!
Greens
Left to right – golden chard and Tuscan kale (DH calls it dino kale), and red chard. If you look closely, you’ll see the garlic starts (volunteers salvaged from spring’s lazy leftovers) between each plant. Don’t mind the weed whacker’s contribution to mulching…

Purple cabbage and broccoli. I don’t often do actual rows of things. This year for some reason, I thought I’d go a little more conventional in arrangement to show off the colors. (And then the broccoli rebelled and wouldn’t fit in a row.)

Then it froze, hard, and we covered everyone up. The sun returned, the sprinkler was reset to a weekly cycle (we’re still on restrictions – once a week maximum), and the holidays came and went.

Golden chard
Red chard and tuscan kale
Cabbage
Broccoli three

The garlic is more noticeable now and we may start nibbling on some greens soon.

Herbs out front

Sep11

These days my gardening is in very short bursts before my ankle forces me back inside to the couch with an elevated boot. I planted a cauliflower and a broccoli yesterday. Just one of each. Today I was going to sow some peas and zinnias. I packed my bucket (the handle can be held in the same hand as a crutch – the only way to transport something these days) with the seeds from my office, the trowel from the garage, and the labels from the toolbox…and that was it. So let’s see what else I can do from this here couch…

I’m a sucker for plants (and seeds, and…yeah. “Hi, my name is Plumdirt, and I’m a plant-a-holic.) This leads to either more pots on my small front “porch” than agrees with my aesthetic or dead plants in their starter containers because I ran out of time to plant them.

When DH picked up a new Thai basil this year, we were bumping up against the latter and needed to find it a home quickly. Enough shade to survive, enough water to grow, and enough space to branch out. In our small yard, there weren’t many options. I plopped it into the first piece of earth that seemed to fit the bill and waited.

It just so happens to catch the run-off from a lot of the roof. It also soaks up the near-constant drip of the AC condenser drain in the summer. It might be too swampy. It might be just right.

Now whenever I open the garage door for a shovel, or to rotate laundry, or let loose the lawn mower, it gets bumped by the door and a fresh waft of Thai basil swirls through the air to my nose.

Serendipitous planting is oft times my favorite sort.

plumdirt

Putting in a little

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