Some bacon, sweet peppers, and another “national yolk test” to see if we still like the eggs we regularly buy the most.
The nearest egg was the most affordable in the “all the good things” category. The palest was local and likely receives a lot more feed than nutrition from fields. The darkest yolk was also the most expensive, and not that much greater than our usual variety, so we’ll likely stay put for now.
I did learn that you can force a darker yolk by adding yellow-orange pigment to feed, so while we like to use it as a gauge on foraged and pastured hens, it’s not foolproof.
The freeze came.
The hottest September on record followed by the coldest November 1st.
Sweet (potato) neighbors creating safe haven for small (golden cherry tomatoes) to survive.
But that’s not what I’m hunting for.
I hunt a little differently than many hunters.
But I bring home a haul all the same.
Tomorrow will be more of the same, as I’ve still more than half way to go here, and two more spots in the garden for hunting.
Like here. Where the sheets didn’t fully protect the green beans in the background.
The sweet potatoes took on the yellow pear tomatoes and won. The cages now house greenery for the tubers (hopefully) down below.
They made a move for the sun gold cherries but no. Those cherries made a counter maneuver. Take that, sweet potatoes.
“Would you count to twenty and then do the same for the next tall plant and the next one?”
“Right here, mama?”
I hope these little bean flowers make food before the heat causes them to keel over.
Not everything out of place is unwanted in its place.
Sometimes, when harvesting sweet potatoes, I miss one.
Usually, they rot through the winter.
Sometimes, they don’t.
If only they tasted nice at this size.
Thankfully, there were first-year neighbors underground.
The lines were drawn and the advancing vines paid no heed.
Sweet potatoes marching on pumpkin. Watermelon winding through to climb abandoned tomato cages.
A butterfly weed returned to hearty trumpets.
The okra is starting to synchronise. We may soon see more than one per plant per harvest.
And a zinnia has shouldered its way through the green beans to feel the sun on its head.
The garden is giving quite the hurrah before giving in fully to the summer heat.
Sometimes we’re caught off guard and knocked flat.
Sometimes a storm is just what you need.
Sometimes you aren’t prepared for unprecedented growth.
Sometimes you are.
And sometimes, no matter how hard you fight it, passions persist.
It’s a jungle out there.
The paths, left untread, are paths no longer.
But the basil basks in the shaded earth, cool toes wriggling in the damp.
And those who seek the warmth rise above.
If at first you find only frustration and disappointment…
It’s not quite the fifty pounds from a few years back, but for the size of that planting and the size of this one I’d say it’s a tie. 28 pounds of sweet potatoes and I’m pretty sure I missed a few that dove down or escaped under the planks to the edging paths.
And while I felt a month late, apparently I’m 11 days earlier than 2012. Also, note to self: if you want to turn questionably nutritious soil into glorious earth sow sweet potatoes first. Now what to sow tomorrow to keep it lovely until spring?