Choose your words wisely; they hold the power to craft your reality.
I haven’t seen an aphid, a slug or a snail, the notorious arch-enemies of spinach, but someone’s been eating my spinach…
That’s ok, because the lettuce is so soft and sweet I’m fine to let the mysterious muncher have the majority of the spinach.
The pumpkins are promising —
A self planted carrot —
Cucumbers
Potatoes
Yellow Watermelon
Butternut squash
Super sweet sugar snaps
Hearty looking strawberries —
Baby Spinach, south garden, May 21, 2010 —
Baby lettuce, south garden, May 21, 2010 —
Baby mighty oak tree, Acadia’s garden, May 21, 2010 (acorn planted by Kira in April)
Baby tomato, soaking up some front porch sun
Baby eggplant, sunny self on porch —
Baby squash —
Baby rainbow chard, volunteer (self-seeded) in north garden, May 21, 2010
Baby snap pea, May 21, 2010 north garden, from seed April 4 —
Sneaking off the couch and hobbling into the back yard I was rewarded with our very first spring salad —
And then over to the north garden to see how the rhubarb was behaving–
He may have been waving it in the air like he just didn’t care, but I paid him no mind and got right to business. Harvesting time.
The leaves are mildly toxic, and I can’t go near them without gloves or I’ll break out in a rash, but it doesn’t bother the girls one bit. They are of tougher stock.
Even a child can harvest rhubarb. All you do is grasp the stalk, pretty close to the ground, and wiggle it. It will release from the plant with this little slipper attached–
Stalks are ready when they are thick enough (about the diameter of a dime or thicker.) They will range in color from deep pink to light speckled green.
I dice them and freeze them for recipes like my favorite crisp. Inside the color also ranges from a whitish pink to a light green–
Also reporting in: the raspberries have millions of tiny buds, and the strawberries, recently thinned, are sporting tons of flowers.
It’s hard to tiptoe on the tulips when they are slick with snow–
Snow, shmoe, I won’t let it get me down. The weather changes so fast around here that you might not even notice something very fishy going on in the rhubarb patch. What, exactly, is this?
I’ve had this rhubarb for seven summers now and this is the first time I’ve seen it get so, er, excited. Email me stat if you’ve got a reasonable explanation.
With Dave up on the roof battling his nemesis, and me here on the ground with a broken foot and looming cold nights, there was little I could manage in the garden. Still, Mother’s Day means I get my way (kind of) and my request was simple–just pick all the dang dandelions. I know it’s short-sighted but I don’t want to look at them and I’m the mother and it’s my day so just get rid of the things, okay?
And so it was.
And the mother was pleased as she watched the children pick the “wild flowers” and construct a chain of them which they looped round the au natural trellis and they all lived happily ever after.
On to the mundane. I hobbled to and fro to photograph the progress being made between the snowflakes.
The spinach is coming along nicely,
As is the lettuce, which had been written off but is proving tougher than 28 degree nights–
Our itty bitty peach tree even has a couple of promising blossoms–
Mother’s Day had us planting, hesitantly. We’re going to wait a few more weeks for some warmer nights before planting the more fragile stuff, but put in another round of carrots, onions and chard today.
April 12, and our previously perky sprouts have called it quits.
All but that one little guy, who I think is an eggplant. Our over-zealous watering took out not only our nice handwritten signs, but much of our crop as well.
At least the tomatoes are still hanging in there —
Outside things are moving right along. The snap peas are winning. I think it’s their super-cool au natural trellis that keeps them reaching for the stars.
The rhubarb rules–
The garlic is doing great.
I overheard at the garden store that garlic and raspberries are a recommended pairing. Maybe that’s why both these guys are going strong. I love the look of these early raspberry leaves.
It seems I might have had some slight miscalculations when plotting out our square foot garden, and now I can’t be sure if this square is carrots or onions. I had been 99% sure it was carrots, until these sprouts poked through —
They do not look like the frilly tops that I associate with carrots. Any chance they are onions?
March is a pyscho. Never mind the whole lion and lamb thing. It comes in like a fluffy bunny and then just like that turns into a frigid witch and then right back into a kitten. It’s driving me a little batty.
March 6, and our good old Northern corner spot is still snowbound.
We decide to take this party to the sunny side of the street yard.
We had no champagne to break her in, but this is officially the South Garden, future home of lush lettuce and gorgeous salad greens.
March 13, and enough of the snow has melted off the North to allow garlic shoots to push through.
Despite this positive sign, plans move ahead with the South Garden.
The weather is always warm and predictable here in the dining room. Now home to sproutlings to be
Oh Welcome Back March. It’s really so delightful to see your many moods once again. At least the girls are not bothered by the icy side of spring
When they were finally coaxed down from the trees, he built this beautiful trellis.
Hire your local twig collectors and relocators. This is my crew, whom I highly recommend. They are hard workers who work cheap. They negotiated the deal, which I gladly accepted — $1 plus a Popsicle each got me an entire twig pile moved out of the way. Everyone’s a winner.
The twigs were dug in and secured with nails to the garden frame.
The tops tipped in and tied together with twine, which we will also use to give the snap peas something to cling to.
Trellis, decorated for Mother’s Day–
