In Louise's Garden

Yesterday we drove out to Shelton Laurel for a socially distanced outdoor lunch with Drew and Louise. Louise told me to be sure to bring my camera to document her squash.

No worries--it's always a delight to wander through Louise's Giverny-like garden.

Flowers and vegetables sprawl everywhere in rampant profusion. And speaking of rampant . . . 

There's the squash--an Italian variety called (I think) Berrettina Piacetina. Planted in a compost pile inside an unused dog pen, it went crazy (pazzo.)

It covered the compost pile, climbed the chain-link fence, and is now meandering across the roof of the dog pen.

Bearing more and more squashes to loll in the sun on the roof.

Look at the size of that stem.

I'll be asking for some seed from this baby.

 

First Corn!

Some of the top tier of corn is beginning to mature, tassels drying to black. The tier below it was planted a couple of weeks later, a strategic decision to extend the blissful time of fresh corn. My first picking only yielded a grocery bag full, but I blanched the ears, cut off the kernels, and popped them in the freezer, saving out some whole ears to do on the grill to accompany dinner. 

So sweet! So good! And, if nothing don't happen (as Miss Birdie says,) there'll be lots more since I only picked about a fifth of the ripening ears.

Also on the agenda were tomatoes and cukes.  The cucumbers are doing great--sweet and crisp and prolific. The tomatoes, not so much. Deer or something have pruned all my plum tomatoes and bitten into many of the Big Boys and Cherokee Purples. But they've so far left the cherry tomatoes alone.

So I'm roasting cherry tomatoes in olive oil with a little salt and garlic granules then freezing them in half pint jars. They are great tossed with pasta or on a pizza--and they will make a delicious variation on a BLT come winter when good fresh tomatoes are only a memory.

Refreshing the Sundial Garden

I looked around the other day and realized that I no longer has any Back-eyed Susans (when I once had too many) nor any Purple Coneflowers. Of course, I should have done this early in the season when I could buy smaller, cheaper plants, but  I decided to get a few big ones and hope they spread.

The pollen dusted bee approves.

I also got some purple Speedwell, a pinkish-red salvia of some sort, and a pale coneflower, as well as some bee balm. All plants I've had in the past that are no longer with me. To garden is to know loss.

As I said, the bees approve.

The little area around the sundial seemed like a good place to plant my treasures. Layla agreed it needs some color.

What was there was some hardy Russian Sage, a little clump of dianthus, a few iris, and LOTS Thousand Acre Sedum, busily living up to its name. There was also Air Potato Vine, an invasive species from Africa/Asia (more about this awful weed HERE.)

There was a problem. The bed is  composed of some dirt spread on a pile of rocks. There weren't many places when I could actually dig a deep hole. 

Nevertheless, I persisted. It doesn't look like much with the plants spread about in the few spots I could dig and the sedum trodden down.

But with my gardener's eye, I see lush flowers spreading -- pink, and purple, white, yellow, and red. I see butterflies and humming birds visiting. Probably a heavenly choir is singing. 

Someday.

If nothing don't happen.

And I remember the quote: "A perennial is a plant that, had it lived, would have bloomed year after year."

Best Garden Ever!

Or at least, our best garden in quite a while. And me still without my camera. 

 

No matter. One squash looks much like another. 

Anyway, I went down early to tie up the tomatoes and see what was ready to be harvested.  There were 3 almost ripe San Marzano tomatoes, 2 heads of broccoli, collards and kale, and a maybe half a gallon of green beans. 

There were also at least a dozen lovely long cucumbers  and more yellow squash and zucchini than John wants to see on the table. But to soften the blow, I put some bacon in the squash, tomato, onion, cheese, and basil casserole I made for dinner.

Lots of cucumbers. So I made a big bowl of one of my favorites summer sides -- cukes and onions in rice vinegar and sesame oil,

We have been blessed with plenty of rain and enough sunshine to energize the vegetables. There are even some peppers almost ready for picking. The corn is beginning to tassel and probably there are some new potatoes but I haven't looked. 

The heat is daunting -- I was out from about 8 till 10. At first there was still a bit of mist that kept things moderate but when that burned off -- yikes! Time to go to the house and deal with the day's harvest.

What a joy when the garden behaves as one hopes. Of course, I say this, knocking on wood and realizing that at any moment the tomato blight may strike, the cows may eat the corn, the deer may decide to ignore the electric netting and the bean beetles may find the beans.

But for one brief shining moment -- what a joy!

Happy to Be Back to the Garden

John C. Campbell has such beautiful flower and vegetable gardens (tended by various staff and work/study folks) that I always find myself wanting to pull a weed or plant a seed as soon as I get home. So yesterday I did both. 

John had taken good care of everything in my absence and the weather had obliged with rain. My little porch herb garden is thriving and the lavender is blooming. No cherry tomatoes yet . . . but soon!

Amazingly, even these pansies are still thriving -- they usually give up as soon as the weather gets hot.

And the clematis, which were pruned back severely a few months ago so John could replace the trellis, are flourishing. 

As are a few holly hocks down there at the end.

The morning glories are beginning to climb. This year I planted a mix of sky blue and my usual purple -- I'm eager to see them bloom!

The upper box beds seem to be just fine . . .

And, so far, the electric fence has protected the veg(tomatillos, broccoli, kale, collards, sweet potatoes, peppers, and beans) in the lower box beds. I hope my very ugly scarecrow will do the same for the corn.

Lower down, the tomato blight seems to have held off so far (though I know it will show up eventually,) the potatoes are looking good, and, except for a bit of damage during a cow outage, the pumpkins are doing their thing . . . 

 

What would a summer garden be without summer squash?

John wouldn't miss it -- but I would. Zucchini and Crookneck, poised to bless us with squash. (If, as they always say, nothing don't happen.)

And cucumbers! These are those long skinny ones that are so good cold with onions, sesame oil, and rice vinegar. I really can hardly get enough. 

In fact, I plan to start a second round in the the bed where some of my lettuce is bolting. I pulled up half of the old, grown-bitter stuff (the chickens will enjoy it) and sowed beans in that half of the bed. Tomorrow  I'll go find another trellis and sow cucumbers in the other half.

So much to do -- and it pretty much needs to happen before 10:30 or 11 when the heat gets bad. 

But what a pleasure to be back in the garden! 

The Most Obliging of Spring Blooms

The flowering quince is one of the first things I planted in the spring of 1976.  It was an offshoot of a bush down at what was the Freeman's and is now Justin and Claui's house and it has persisted and spread to the point that every year I hack at it, trying to control its spreading tendency. But those early buds and blooms -- ahh!

Many of my daffodils date back to that spring -- the gift of that same neighbor. Daffodils multiply into big clumps that need thinning and resetting every few years -- another thing for the to do list. Daffodils also seem to be impervious to the various critters that wipe out tulips -- alas for all the beautiful tulips I've planted over the years that are only a memory now.

Forsythia, or Yellow Bells as my neighbor called them, is another vigorous and hardy spreader. It's nice to bring inside for some early blooms and it also roots quite easily, making it easy to share with friends.

 So much in my garden that dates back to those early years was the gift of friends and neighbors, and I think of many of them, now gone, especially when the blooms return in the spring -- the eternal return.

Got to Get Back to the Garden . . .

We've been blessed with rain and the weeds are rampant in the garden that two weeks ago was so nicely groomed. Back to the garden for some weed extraction! 

The temperature was pleasant and it was a joy to be outside with my fingers in the dirt and to see how my garden was growing . . .   

Lovage (a celery-tasting herb) in bloom . . .

The little artichoke plants are taking hold . . .

The Glass Gem corn and the Dixie Speckled Butterpea Beans are coming along . . .

Old Man William supervised . . .

A tiny (smaller than my little fingernail) wild iris blossom-- Blue-eyed Grass . . .

The yellow flowers are Rue and the feathery stuff is Bronze Fennel . . . 
I save the fennel seed but haven't a clue of what to do with the rue. . . 

Wouldn't the sky be boring if there were no clouds?

This is the artichoke plant that produced 5 or 6 globes last year, back for a fourth season. . .

I sowed nasturtium seeds in the asparagus bed in hopes of abundant, edible blossoms later on . . .forgetting that they bloom better in less rich soil. We'll see. . .

Zucchini and yellow squash -- John is thrilled ;-) . . .

A tiny Cherokee Purple tomato . . .we have high hopes and are dreaming of BLTs . . . 

And (below) a Mullein (Verbascum) which is a weed but so architecturally striking that I always leave some to enjoy. Mullein has medicinal uses but I've never explored them. . .