growing

A garden update for early August.

One day we spotted a bunch of these little guys on our dill, but we haven’t seen them since.

Note the long sleeves and pants.  It has not been the scorching summer it was last year.

The neighbor kids keep asking if they can pick our one red tomato, to which I always reply (perhaps a bit over-eagerly), “NO!  It’s not ripe enough yet.”

It has also not been the very dry summer it was last year (check out the crunchy lawns in this post).  For the past week we’ve had rain more days than not!  Rejoice!  Everything is so very green!

These are the sprouts of a late beet crop where the lettuce used to be.

Some little green worms are eating our kale all to shreds, which I’m not too broken up about because I inadvertently planted flat leaf kale.  And I’ve come to the realization that I’m a curly kale kind of person.

For the life of me, I can’t get a photo that really captures the color of these zinnias, no matter what time of day or what lighting or what camera setting I try.  They are called giant purple zinnia, and though they don’t really seem purple to me, they are not quite as pink as they always come out in the photos.

 

Here’s hoping that August’s good weather continues.

 

 

growing

With moving in May, we didn’t have time to plant a vegetable garden this year.  Sure, we could have rushed in and put some plants in the ground, but we don’t have any particular spot in our new yard that cries out, “Garden!  Here!”  It’s going to take planning, building, soil preparation.  So it was put on the back burner while we put the house in order.

But . . . before our move, I had optimistically purchased a bunch of tomato plants and herbs that desperately needed planting, even though the boxes were only just being opened and we were still digging out essential kitchen tools.  So somehow we found time to do a little container gardening.  And add to the flower bed.  Because those boxes . . . they’ll be fine til autumn.  Or winter.  But staring at a brown patch of empty soil all summer would have been a kind of torture.

As a result of the need to get those plants in some soil as quickly as possible, and in an effort to use what we had on hand, some of the tomatoes were put into containers that are probably far too small.  They’re fairing ok for now, but I don’t expect them to produce as well as the others.  We’ve lost a few already to pests and blossom end-rot, but I’m hopeful that we’ll get a decent crop.

There is some kind of squash plant growing out of our compost bin, which is odd because I don’t remember putting any squash seeds in there.

Our chard rebounded after being mowed down by one of the hundreds of bunnies that populate this neighborhood.

For future harvests, we’ve started a patch of chamomile.  And the raspberries.

And the flower garden is an odd mix of the few perennials here that survived last year’s drought; a few packets of seeds we sowed; a surprising number of volunteer petunias, moss roses, and marigolds (it’s amazing what you’ll find if you don’t weed!); and a handful of plants we bought at the nursery on a whim and then planted willy-nilly with no real plan or design scheme.  We’ll see how that turns out.  My efforts to create a second flower bed were thwarted when I found that a majority of our yard to the west of the driveway has a layer of bricks laid out just a few inches beneath the surface of the soil.  Far too many bricks to dig out.  Perplexing and frustrating . . . guess we’ll have to come up with a Plan B.

In the meantime, there is no shortage of flowers to look at.  Our next door neighbor has a meadow for a yard.

In other outdoor-related news, today I went outside and was startled (and admittedly a little creeped out) to see a black squirrel.  But a quick Google search assured my that they really do exist, and this was not (as I momentarily suspected)  some kind of evil demon squirrel or the unfortunate victim of an oil spill.

progress report

Day 1

Day 2

Day 3

Day 4

Day 5

Day 6

Our crocuses croaked.  After 3 days of 80-degree weather, they just couldn’t take it anymore.  Perhaps I should have watered them sooner?  I noticed our neighbors daffodils suffered the same fate.  I had finally got my head wrapped around the fact that winter is not coming, and accepted that spring is here — but now it seems we’ve moved straight into summer.  Ack!