Yesterday it was a balmy, breezy 70 degrees, today we're covered with ice (including my tiny Hens'n'Chicks pictured here). I can't pretend I'm sad--I like Spring in Spring, not Spring in Winter and Fall. And I'll always find some magic in dragging Sweet Husband and the pups out for a walk in a quiet, sparkling night encased in ice.
I can home last night, and was almost completely overwhelmed by the smell of something really sweet--like honeysuckle or a really strong smelling Easter Lily. Since--living with two dogs--our house does not usually smell like flowers, I was very confused. I sniffed around the kitchen...not coming from there. I sniffed in the laundry room...not there. I sniffed outside (we've had the windows open since it's been so incredibly warm these past few days)...not there. I had just about given up when the light bulb went on....
My little Meyer Lemon tree (previously discussed here and here among other places) is blossoming. So far we haven't been able to get any lemons--in part due to the fact that the Wee Welshman likes to eat the baby fruit before it gets big--but I have the tree in a bit of a sheltered location this year, so maybe....
First frost today--22 degress, brrr! The poor Morning Glory didn't stand a chance . . . .
This is part of what I like about growing things--it seems like something unexpected always happens. Here, as the moon flowers died back, these little spikey balls--which I'm guessing are some sort of seed pods--formed. Frankly, I think they're almost as cool as the flowers were.
All summer we've had a huge, ever-growing morning glory vine with no flowers. But the other day Sweet Husband and I were outside and noticed that, not only have a few flowers opened up, but the vine is absolutely covered with buds. If we don't get a frost in the next few weeks it should be a sight.
I was walking out the door on my way to work this morning when I saw these two on the side of my house.
At first I kind of thought, "Eww!" But on closer examination, I noticed they were spooning. Awww . . . .
My very first tigger melon was ready this weekend. It turned the nicest color, but the flavor was a little funky--kind of like cantaloupe and pepper.
After my moonflowers bloomed once, they died back quite a bit. I thought that was the end of the show, but hadn't had time to replace them with something new. Good thing!
Left to their own devices, they're gotten huge--we've had tons of flowers with many more on the way.
. . . to anyone who can identify this spider. He's living in my melon plant and I don't know whether I should kick him out or not.
Raindrops collecting on one of my newly repotted banana trees.
The cucumber wilted away in the heat, but my bargain bin tigger melon is starting to make fruit. And now that everything else is gone, it has plenty of room to sprawl out and make itself comfy.
So, this year was not the greatest.
The bad first: I didn't get more than a handful of Midgets, and I only got one or two each of the Hillbilly Potato, Amana Orange, and the Cherokee Purple.
The kind of good: Despite the heat, the Yellow Pears did . . . ok. But the real hero of the summer was the Aunt Ruby's German Green. Even though it's been hotter than hell and I gave up on watering over a week ago, I walked outside and found three huge Greens this evening. And they were so pretty and tasted so good. A definite winner.
I've been a poor blogger lately. Every once in awhile--and especially at the end of August when it's 100 degrees and everything is brown and brittle--the world seems a little tired and I have trouble working up much enthusiasm for...well, for anything really.
In the meantime, however, two monarch caterpillars discovered my milkweed. They only stayed for a few days, but they stripped it's leaves. It's rough out there--I was glad I could give them a meal on their way to...wherever they were going.
When I look at the condition of my tomato plants and make note of the date, I have no reason to complain. By the end of July, the wear and tear of summer in the garden is discernible in the texture and color of the leaves. Even healthy plants have a leathery look and feel to them. Certainly, the unrelenting highs above 100 degrees last week did my plants no favors. But even if that were not the case, by this point in the summer Kansas tomato plants have seen better days. If mine could be reincarnated as rock stars, they’d all come back as Keith Richards.What’s different this year is that the tomatoes are ripening later than normal. While I have loads of fruit on the plants, the tomatoes seem slow to ripen. I speculate that it’s a combination of the late planting and protracted periods of excessive heat and drought. It’s hard to remember that in May we had a couple of weeks of rain accompanied by low temperatures that kept the soil in many area gardens too damp to work. As a result, many area gardeners did not get their hot-weather crops planted until late May, which was two to four weeks later than normal. Had we received sufficient rainfall in June, this would not have mattered, as tomato plants can quickly make up lost time in early summer. However, hot and dry conditions handicapped tomato plants' early growth. By now we should be carting vine-ripened tomatoes into the house by the bushel instead of just now easing into the harvest.
The dilemma here is that we need to keep our haggard plants going to support the fruit that’s still growing on them. By this time in the summer, I’m often done with watering. That may not be an option this year.
If that's the case, this year is screwed.
To be fair, the yellow pear plant has been pushing on stalwartly, producing it's first tomato on the first day of summer, and a handful about every week since. However, we don't even have one orange tomato yet, and the (5) tomatoes that have come off of the other full size tomato plants have been split and cracked so badly that I've had to pick them early to save them from the bugs. And my little midget that was so prolific last year is shriveling to nothing in this heat.
It is indeed a bad year for tomatoes....
This little guy started to grow before the tomatoes stole his sunshine--the pepper plants are both so shaded now that he's unlikely to have any brothers and sisters for awhile. But isn't Jimmy pretty?
(Update: And he tasted really good--sweet, but with just the right amount of heat.)
I planted my little plot of soybeans to enjoy some fresh edamame, but my methods were a little faulty. Instead of picking them when they were young, I kept waiting for them to get bigger. Only, instead of getting bigger, they just got browner.
But all is not lost. I cracked open one of the brown pods tonight and, low and behold, there were nice little hard beans inside. Soup beans.
Some were more dry than others, but I put the not-so-dry ones in the oven for a bit to finish them off. My little bucket 'o' beans is getting fuller.
There was an article in the LJWorld the other day by the wonderful Miss Mellinger (of jinxing tomatoes fame) asserting that it's not worth the time and trouble to shuck beans for soup, given that they are so cheap to buy at the store. I see her point, but I think I have to respectfully disagree. Sitting outside, gleefully popping open the pods, and scooping out the verdant little beans was probably one of the high points of my weekend.
A few weeks ago I was at the farmer's market and saw someone with moonflower plants. At the time I had just dug up my potatoes and had free space so....(listen to me pretend I need an excuse to buy plants). As you can guess from their name, moonflowers only open at night.
I took the picture on the left at dusk, and I took the on eon the right in the dark using a long exposure. In small quantities I don't think you get the full effect, but if you had a nice large planting and a full moon they would be spectacular.
Bad: The lawnmower guys haven't been here since before the 4th of July. I know it's hot guys, but sheesh--it's starting to get down-right pasture-like.
Good: The lack of lawnmowing has allowed my morning glories to begin to grow . . .
. . . and this funny flower outside our fence. I'm curious to see what it is.
(Update 7/24/06: They finally came and mowed! I'm almost surprised they didn't have to brush-hog. And despite the fact that they let the grass get to knee level, I'm pretty pleased with them--although they did cut down the mystery flower, they trimmed around my morning glories. Thanks lawn mowing guys!)
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