Amazingly Dim

Sunflower facing east

Took the day off Thursday because this time of year, the garden doesn’t do well if it gets my attention only on the weekends. Since we grow most the vegetables we eat through the year, it’s a more than minor problem if stuff goes to waste because I didn’t have time to weed it, pick it, process it. 

Thursday was a really fine day for the first time in a long time. It wasn’t too hot, and there was a nice breeze. I hauled myself out of bed at the ungodly hour of 9 am, and had pilled and fed cats and myself, cleaned out their facilities, emptied the dehumidifier in the cellar, washed some dishes, found my tool belt and leather gloves, and was out the door by noon-thirty. I had a job to do before watering and picking: I was tackling the weed-infested junk deposit surrounding the hardy hibiscus, which live on the east side of the garage, facing the garden. 

Leeks, calendula, amaranth, parsnips

 

Before I knew that hardy hibiscus die back every winter then sprout again from the roots in the spring…or summer, whenever it gets warm enough for a hibiscus to do something growie…I’d piled hay around them for winter protection, then peeled it back in spring, and the piles of peeled back hay had sprouted all sorts of grass and weeds. Also, The Husband, who was raised a city boy and who will die a city boy, but who in his heart of hearts is a Swamp Yankee, had filled the space behind the hibiscus and the garage wall with all sorts of junk in order to “protect the siding from water damage.” 

Right. I pulled out of there, after removing a lot of dirt and weeds and old dried leaves, this list of stuff: 2 old half-rotten rugs, a piece of what looks like painted veneer, some round black things I don’t recognize and don’t want identified, and four pieces of old tiles/leftover granite countertop/the stuff the countertops were originally made of; and that’s after I got him to move the dozen rusting cans of old paint he’s been saving for years to bring to some toxic disposal day some time, somewhere.

California poppies self-seed every year; I haven't planted any for at least 4 years.

I filled two giant weed bags full of old hay, weeds, leaves and plant detritus and dragged them to the compost bins. Then I put down landscape barrier between the garage wall and the plants and covered it with pebbles. Then I made many trips into the house for the entire supply of 3 months’ newspapers saved for recycling, and put them down in a heavy layer around the plants, and covered the newspaper with another heavy layer of cedar wood chips. Then I put down composted manure in the circle I’d left around each plant, and watered heavily. 

Finally, I was able to head into the garden to water and pick stuff that needed picking.

Since last weekend, the summer squash plant and one of the winter squashes have decided to mate and are lovingly entwined with each other and totally blocking one pathway. Another of the winter squashes is traveling towards the summer squash (popular lady this year) via the main path into the garden, which will be a problem if the plant recovers from me not noticing how dry and wilty it had gotten. I’ve apologized and watered and watered; we’ll see if it recovers.

All the yellow beans have ripened all at once. I had to wade into the summer squash bed from the back while trying to miss trampling it or the new asparagus plants in order to pick 5 squashes that weren’t there 3 days ago. There were 4 ripe arctic tomatoes, and one cherry tomato. The Swiss Chard is out of control. All but 2 garlic plants have turned brown, so I pulled those; and half the onions have keeled over, so I pulled those. The French pumpkin has taken over the path between the compost bins and the rest of the garden, and is rapidly taking over the leek and onion bed and the sea of dill.

Caterpillar on milkweed

Green beans are nearly ready to pick, there were two zucchinis, and I picked fava beans (I learned from the witch up on the hill to mix cooked favas with a little garlic, lemon juice, olive oil, mint, salt, and feta cheese, and eat it warm – it’s incredibly delicious) and what’s almost – almost – the last of the peas. The beets are jumping out of the ground in their eagerness to be eaten; I may have to make pickled beets this weekend. I didn’t have time to pick blueberries or raspberries, but did eat a handful of each, and picked what’s almost the last of my lettuce, but the 2^nd planting is coming and will be ready before the last, which never got bitter, is completely gone. There were also several cucumbers, finally! 

And, I noticed, one of the self-seeded sunflowers has bloomed, and has its head turned determinedly to the east.

It seems like my potatoes (all harvested and dried and put away) and onions are early this year, but what do I know? I know that the impenetrable wall of sunflowers and amaranth that are on two sides of one tomato bed make it impossible for me to efficiently water, or to see what’s going on in there. I’m going to have to come up with a way to water from another side. I’m experimenting this summer with the really light, cloth hoses that scrunch up when emptied, and so far I really like them but I’m also really careful not to scrape them against rocks and the block-like-things walls for fear of tearing them. The hundred-footer scrunches up to something like 15 feet when you empty it, and I’m guessing it might just reach from the far side of the garden to the front side and around as far as the tomato beds. It goes from the far side of the garden out into the field and reaches all the new fruit trees and the flower and plant beds all the way to the new raspberries. It’s an amazing thing to see, and looks like a snake when you turn off the water and let it empty itself, slithering along as it shrinks and shrinks and shrinks.

Broccoli under huge sunflower leaves; nasturtiums and lettuce

At 8:30 I decided it was too dark to pick anything more or even to water, so I hauled my full baskets inside and announced to The Husband that he’d need to finish watering the next night, because I couldn’t quite do it all as I could no longer see properly. He looked right at me, so I know he heard me, and said ok, he’d take care of it. 

I headed back to the kitchen to shell peas and favas and tip yellow beans and wash lettuce and all that jazz. Around 9:30 I decided I needed to take a break to wash my glasses because I was finding my eyesight was more than a little dim. They were probably sweat-smeared, I thought, as I took them off.

I was still wearing my sunglasses.                                   

For the blog: August 2, 2019

All photos Deb Marshall