I walked down to the garden about 9 a.m. today, store-bought canes in hand (see last post), intending to string the wire between the green bean poles, stick the canes in the ground, and call it a day. I hadn't even made it all the way across the back yard when Nanny came out of the house and called, "Did you find the wire?" I hollered back that I knew where it was, and went on to the garden.
While I was pushing the store-bought canes into the ground, Nanny arrived with an arm-load of green canes that she had cut from the edge of the woods. We had just enough to do the green bean rows.
But when we finished that job, Nanny said, "Are these butterbeans the running kind?"
Pssshhht. As if I knew. They had foot-long runners on them, but I didn't see anything curling. And I didn't have any more metal posts and canes to make another fence.
I looked around. At the end of the garden was a small pile of 2x2 poles that had once been tomato stakes. I told Nanny, "Maybe we can go ahead and drive these stakes into the butterbean rows, and run some string between them later if it looks like they're going to be climbers." We gathered up the stakes and hammered them into the ground. Naturally, we didn't have enough stakes. But there were more pooped-out tomato plants in the garden, still attached to their stakes, so we stole those stakes to finish the butterbean rows.
Then Nanny said, "Are you going to plant greens? If you are, pull up the rest of those tomatoes, and I'll run the lawnmower through there to make it easier to plow." So we pulled up almost all the rest of the tomato plants, and Nanny hauled them away in the lawn cart while I pulled up and hauled away the sunflower trees that had long-since fallen over.
By then, it was 11 a.m. I hadn't had any breakfast and my stomach was rumbling. "I'm going back to the house," I told Nanny. "I've had enough for today."
I came home and fixed some breakfast. While I was eating, I decided that I ought to go ahead and plow up the spot for the greens and get them planted today, before the rain from hurricane Ike gets here. After breakfast, I went back to the garden. The big tiller actually cranked, and I steered it to the garden.
On the second round of tilling, something faintly intenstine-ish flew out from beneath the tiller and landed beside me. What in the world...? I stooped to get a better look. Ewwww! It was an animal - I'm not sure what it was, but it was pink (didn't have much hair), and it was gasping. I cringed, and stood up, not knowing what to do. Whatever the thing was, it was clearly in pain and needed to be finished off. But...geez.... Fortunately, while I was deliberating about whether to get the shovel or run over it with the tiller again, it shuddered and went still. I apologized to it and went back to my tilling, kinda grossed out by the thing, which I had to look at every time I passed it. Yuck.
I finished the tilling. By then, the heat had sapped my energy again, so I came back home. The ground still needs raking, and the greens still need planting. The sweet peas need a support system. They and the new green beans and butterbeans need fertilizing. The butterpeas, hot peppers, and okra need to be picked, and I'd like to get all of that done before the rain gets here.
But, right now, I have to run over to Mother's to change some light bulbs.
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Addendum:
Got the light bulbs done, came home to get my gloves, and went back to the garden to rake the tilled soil and plant greens. When I went to the shed to get the rake, Pop-Pop was on his back on a creeper under the big John Deere tractor. "Laying down on the job again, are you?" I said, as I passed by.
"Hey, what'd you do with my girlfriend?" he asked (referring to our stylish scarecrow - the one he calls "the Garden Ho'" - which I'd taken down earlier, when we were pulling up tomatoes).
"She's out there," I said, "laying on that pile of tomato stakes."
"I just can't keep a girlfriend," he muttered sadly.
I got my rake and went out to the garden. Before raking, I sprinkled pelletized lime over the soil to "sweeten" it for next year. Nanny came out to help about the time I finished spreading the lime, and we made short work of raking up some rows and planting the seeds. We planted turnips, spinach, kale, lettuce, and mustard. Oh, and a row of beets. (The beets I planted last time came up sparsely and have since disappeared. I'm trying them in a different spot this time. Never did get a single carrot to come up.)
Nanny and I tidied up - pulled some grass from around the three tomato plants that we'd left standing, and weeded the sweet peas. I hooked up the Miracle Grow sprayer to the water hose and fertilized the new beans. I even gave the old green beans a shot, just in case they still have a little energy left in them.
I picked a few squash, a few tomatoes, and an eggplant.
With my last ounce of energy, I hauled the scarecrow back to the center of the garden and put her hat back on her head. Can't have Pop-Pop missing her, can we?
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Saturday, September 13, 2008
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Negligence
Sorry, bloggettes, to have neglected you this week. I would like to say that I've been too busy gardening to write about gardening, but that would not be entirely true. The hurricanes have sent some rain our way for the past couple of weeks, keeping the ground too wet to work. I have been spending my time reading and cooking and otherwise piddling around the house. The grass in the garden is celebrating both the rain and my absence.
Since my last post, I've canned 17 quarts of green beans, and Nanny has canned five or six quarts. There's probably another pickin' on the vines right now, but it won't yield much more than a family dinner's worth. Fortunately, the new green beans are coming right along. Runners are about a foot long, and twisting around one another in the air above the plants. They need staking. Last weekend, I managed to hammer some metal fence posts in the ground between the rows while the ground was still wet. As soon as it dries up a bit more, I'll string some wire between the posts, and lace bamboo canes through it for the beans to run on (assuming my husband cuts me some bamboo canes, as he has said he would).
The billiard-ball squash I planted around the 4th of July are cranking out squash like crazy. The package said that the fruit matures fast, and it was not kidding. Today's golf-ball-sized squash is tomorrow's tennis ball. Seriously. Much of it gets too big before I get a chance to pick it. It's good squash, though. I've baked it, sauteed it, fried it, and eaten it raw. Its taste and texture is about like regular yellow squash, perhaps with less of that slightly-bitter aftertaste that some squash has. It may get the lion's share of the squash row next year. When I was patroling the edges of the garden earlier in the week, I saw that the squash and pumpkin bugs were having a street fair on the squash and pumpkin leaves. I dusted them with Sevin and did not feel the least bit criminal for doing it.
The pepper plants are showing off. I picked most of them clean two weeks ago, but left the pods to turn red on one or two plants. I've not had much luck with bell pepper in previous years, but this year's crop has been impressive enough to break a few limbs off the plants. I should dig around in the dirt around those plants to find the plastic nursery stakes that came with them so I can get the same kind next year.
In the yard, the sweet autumn clematis is doing its thing. I planted it to grow on a fence, the one I installed to hide all the yard junk. Once I actually got all the junk moved behind the fence, the clematis broke the fence down, so now we have a spectacular view of all the yard junk, together in one place.
The clematis' original home was on a different fence. When I tore the fence down, I dug up the clematis, but, evidently, I left leaving a little piece of the vine in the old location. That little piece took a shine to a Crape Myrtle bush at the corner of my patio. I think I'll let it stay. ;)
Since my last post, I've canned 17 quarts of green beans, and Nanny has canned five or six quarts. There's probably another pickin' on the vines right now, but it won't yield much more than a family dinner's worth. Fortunately, the new green beans are coming right along. Runners are about a foot long, and twisting around one another in the air above the plants. They need staking. Last weekend, I managed to hammer some metal fence posts in the ground between the rows while the ground was still wet. As soon as it dries up a bit more, I'll string some wire between the posts, and lace bamboo canes through it for the beans to run on (assuming my husband cuts me some bamboo canes, as he has said he would).
The billiard-ball squash I planted around the 4th of July are cranking out squash like crazy. The package said that the fruit matures fast, and it was not kidding. Today's golf-ball-sized squash is tomorrow's tennis ball. Seriously. Much of it gets too big before I get a chance to pick it. It's good squash, though. I've baked it, sauteed it, fried it, and eaten it raw. Its taste and texture is about like regular yellow squash, perhaps with less of that slightly-bitter aftertaste that some squash has. It may get the lion's share of the squash row next year. When I was patroling the edges of the garden earlier in the week, I saw that the squash and pumpkin bugs were having a street fair on the squash and pumpkin leaves. I dusted them with Sevin and did not feel the least bit criminal for doing it.
The pepper plants are showing off. I picked most of them clean two weeks ago, but left the pods to turn red on one or two plants. I've not had much luck with bell pepper in previous years, but this year's crop has been impressive enough to break a few limbs off the plants. I should dig around in the dirt around those plants to find the plastic nursery stakes that came with them so I can get the same kind next year.
In the yard, the sweet autumn clematis is doing its thing. I planted it to grow on a fence, the one I installed to hide all the yard junk. Once I actually got all the junk moved behind the fence, the clematis broke the fence down, so now we have a spectacular view of all the yard junk, together in one place.
The clematis' original home was on a different fence. When I tore the fence down, I dug up the clematis, but, evidently, I left leaving a little piece of the vine in the old location. That little piece took a shine to a Crape Myrtle bush at the corner of my patio. I think I'll let it stay. ;)
Thursday, August 28, 2008
News Flash
It's settled: green beans respond to threats.
Remember that last week I gave my green beans a talking-to because they hadn't produced? By the end of the week, they were looking as though they might have listened, for on Saturday I gathered a couple of handfuls of beans, and saw many more that were too little to pick.
You ought to see them now!
Mother says that the more you pick green beans, the more they make, so I went to the garden this afternoon to gather what beans were there, hoping to spur them on. I was expecting to gather maybe another handful or two of beans. Boy, did I underestimate them! The vines are loaded with beans, and making more. I picked half a sack full of beans from about half a row of vines before it got too dark to see what I was doing. I'll go back in the morning to get the rest. It looks like I might get to can some beans, after all!
We love them small and tender. I'll pack them whole into pint jars and process them in the pressure canner. (I am scared to death of that thing.) They'll be yummy this winter, sauteed in garlic butter with mushrooms and pearl onions.
The new crop of green beans that we planted on the 16th is doing well. The butterbeans that we planted that same day have sprouted, too, but they look funny - kind of...crinkled and nappy, like they just got out of bed. Heh, I guess, in a way, they did!
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Remember that last week I gave my green beans a talking-to because they hadn't produced? By the end of the week, they were looking as though they might have listened, for on Saturday I gathered a couple of handfuls of beans, and saw many more that were too little to pick.
You ought to see them now!
Mother says that the more you pick green beans, the more they make, so I went to the garden this afternoon to gather what beans were there, hoping to spur them on. I was expecting to gather maybe another handful or two of beans. Boy, did I underestimate them! The vines are loaded with beans, and making more. I picked half a sack full of beans from about half a row of vines before it got too dark to see what I was doing. I'll go back in the morning to get the rest. It looks like I might get to can some beans, after all!
We love them small and tender. I'll pack them whole into pint jars and process them in the pressure canner. (I am scared to death of that thing.) They'll be yummy this winter, sauteed in garlic butter with mushrooms and pearl onions.
The new crop of green beans that we planted on the 16th is doing well. The butterbeans that we planted that same day have sprouted, too, but they look funny - kind of...crinkled and nappy, like they just got out of bed. Heh, I guess, in a way, they did!
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Friday, August 22, 2008
The Ultimatum
I had a talk with my green beans today.
They've been sitting there all summer long doing nothing. Nothing. I've watered them, I've fed them, I've weeded them. The vines are beautiful - full and lush, loaded with blooms. But something goes wrong between the bloomin' and the beanin'; we've harvested one small meal from them the whole summer.
So today I told them, "You've got one week. One week to show me what you've got, or you're outta here."
I explained to them that there are two new rows of green beans sprouting, just on the other side of the tomatoes. Pretty soon, they'll need supporting. The old beans have a good fence. It can be moved, once I get the old bean vines off it. So I repeated my warning: "If you guys haven't wowed me by next weekend, you're history."
We'll see if they listened.
While I was in the garden, I cut four big sunflower heads - big as dinner plates - and put them in the shed to finish drying. If I can figure out how, I'm going to roast them. The rest, I left for the birds to eat.
Thumped the biggest watermelon again (not that I can tell if it's ripe by that method, but it is vaguely satisfying to thump them). Daddy says the curlique will dry up when the melon is ready. This one looks pretty far from dry.
The pumpkin vines have little pumpkins on them, soft-ball-sized, and bigger. Maybe we'll have some home-grown jack-o-lanterns, or at least a pie or two.
For the past couple of weeks, we've had some good rain showers, and the blight-stricken tomatoes have found new leases on life. They're showing new green growth and have begun to bloom again. It'll be interesting to see what they do before frost.
The billiard-ball squash is about ready to eat. I'm excited to see what they're like - would cook some for supper tonight, if I hadn't already told the husband he's taking me out to dinner. The seed packet said that the fruit grows rapidly once it starts, and that is surely the truth; only two days ago, the billiard balls were marbles. I hope they're not too big to eat by tomorrow!
Weekend plans: two buckets of pears await. I intend to make pear butter out of them. Let's hope it turns out better than the peach jam.
-------------
They've been sitting there all summer long doing nothing. Nothing. I've watered them, I've fed them, I've weeded them. The vines are beautiful - full and lush, loaded with blooms. But something goes wrong between the bloomin' and the beanin'; we've harvested one small meal from them the whole summer.
So today I told them, "You've got one week. One week to show me what you've got, or you're outta here."
I explained to them that there are two new rows of green beans sprouting, just on the other side of the tomatoes. Pretty soon, they'll need supporting. The old beans have a good fence. It can be moved, once I get the old bean vines off it. So I repeated my warning: "If you guys haven't wowed me by next weekend, you're history."
We'll see if they listened.
While I was in the garden, I cut four big sunflower heads - big as dinner plates - and put them in the shed to finish drying. If I can figure out how, I'm going to roast them. The rest, I left for the birds to eat.
Thumped the biggest watermelon again (not that I can tell if it's ripe by that method, but it is vaguely satisfying to thump them). Daddy says the curlique will dry up when the melon is ready. This one looks pretty far from dry.
The pumpkin vines have little pumpkins on them, soft-ball-sized, and bigger. Maybe we'll have some home-grown jack-o-lanterns, or at least a pie or two.
For the past couple of weeks, we've had some good rain showers, and the blight-stricken tomatoes have found new leases on life. They're showing new green growth and have begun to bloom again. It'll be interesting to see what they do before frost.
The billiard-ball squash is about ready to eat. I'm excited to see what they're like - would cook some for supper tonight, if I hadn't already told the husband he's taking me out to dinner. The seed packet said that the fruit grows rapidly once it starts, and that is surely the truth; only two days ago, the billiard balls were marbles. I hope they're not too big to eat by tomorrow!
Weekend plans: two buckets of pears await. I intend to make pear butter out of them. Let's hope it turns out better than the peach jam.
-------------
Monday, August 18, 2008
Fall Gardening
I dug the potatoes this evening. They did not produce much of a crop. (Pop-Pop saw my two pitiful little sacks of potatoes and said, "Well, you got your seeds back.") If we were counting on the potato crop to get us through the winter, we'd be in trouble.
After I dug the potatoes, I tilled up the rows and planted sweet peas in their place. Even though the almanac says that the "moon favorable" days for peas have passed, the seed package said the planting dates were "Jan.-Feb." and "August," and, by golly, it's still August, so they into the ground they went.
I pulled up a few spent tomato plants. Since we've had a few rain showers lately, some of the tomato plants have started blooming again. I left those alone, thinking they might catch their second wind. Tomorrow, I'm going to cut the sunflowers and hang the heads to dry before the birds get any more of the seeds.
The billiard-ball squash plants that I planted about a month ago are blooming. I can't wait to see what they produce. Pumpkin vines are looking good. The watermelons have a few melons on them, one almost big enough to eat.
The pole bean vines may be the next to go. So far, they have been a huge disappointment. The vines are lush and gorgeous. They bloom. They just haven't made any beans. We've had one meal of green beans from those vines all summer. I keep hoping they'll wake up and make beans, but so far all they've done is take up space. The straight-neck squash have been almost as disappointing.
On the bright side, we've had a good crop of tomatoes, cucumbers, and black-eyed peas. The butterbeans outdid themselves. The jury is still out on the butterpeas. (I planted them a little later than the rest of the beans, and then the rabbits ate the first few sets of leaves, setting them back a bit.)
In about a month, it'll be time to plant greens - turnips, mustard, collards, kale, and spinach. Last year, I planted my greens W-A-Y too thick. Maybe before next month, I can figure out how to sow them properly.
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After I dug the potatoes, I tilled up the rows and planted sweet peas in their place. Even though the almanac says that the "moon favorable" days for peas have passed, the seed package said the planting dates were "Jan.-Feb." and "August," and, by golly, it's still August, so they into the ground they went.
I pulled up a few spent tomato plants. Since we've had a few rain showers lately, some of the tomato plants have started blooming again. I left those alone, thinking they might catch their second wind. Tomorrow, I'm going to cut the sunflowers and hang the heads to dry before the birds get any more of the seeds.
The billiard-ball squash plants that I planted about a month ago are blooming. I can't wait to see what they produce. Pumpkin vines are looking good. The watermelons have a few melons on them, one almost big enough to eat.
The pole bean vines may be the next to go. So far, they have been a huge disappointment. The vines are lush and gorgeous. They bloom. They just haven't made any beans. We've had one meal of green beans from those vines all summer. I keep hoping they'll wake up and make beans, but so far all they've done is take up space. The straight-neck squash have been almost as disappointing.
On the bright side, we've had a good crop of tomatoes, cucumbers, and black-eyed peas. The butterbeans outdid themselves. The jury is still out on the butterpeas. (I planted them a little later than the rest of the beans, and then the rabbits ate the first few sets of leaves, setting them back a bit.)
In about a month, it'll be time to plant greens - turnips, mustard, collards, kale, and spinach. Last year, I planted my greens W-A-Y too thick. Maybe before next month, I can figure out how to sow them properly.
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Sunday, August 17, 2008
#)!@% Almanac
Yesterday Sarah, my daughter-in-law, voiced a hankering for some peas, so I took her to the garden, and we picked the last of the purple hull peas while Nanny & Pop-Pop babysat my grandsons. After the pickin', we retired to the back porch to cool off with tall glasses of iced water. While we were sitting there, I happened to look over and see this year's Farmer's Almanac laying on the porch rail.
An almanac is a mystery to me. It is full of strange symbols, disjointed maxims, and vague weather predictions (see, e.g., http://www.rarebookroom.org/Control/frapop/index.html ). Though Pop-Pop can grab an almanac and figure out in 10 seconds flat (once he finds his glasses) when to plant something, I have never even been able to figure out which page that information is printed on. But, wonder of wonders, yesterday when I picked up the almanac, it flopped opened to the "when to plant" page, which Pop-Pop had folded in half for easy reference. As I have been intending to plant a second crop of peas or beans, I ran my finger down the list of vegetables, and there it was: Beans...Moon favorable...8/1-8/16.
"Aw shoot...!" I said out loud. THIS was 8/16, which meant that if I did not get my second crop of peas/beans in the ground THIS VERY DAY, the moon would not smile favorably on my effort.
"What?" said Sarah.
"The almanac says I should plant beans TODAY."
"Well, let's get at it," Sarah said. "I'll help."
I stalled as much as I could. Truth was, I did not want to work in the garden at 3 p.m. "We can't just PLANT," I told Sarah. "First, we have to pull up the pea vines, then we have to plow, and I probably can't get the tiller cranked, and . . . "
"I can pull up pea vines," Sarah said.
"The tiller'll crank," Pop-Pop chimed in.
They were ganging up on me.
While Sarah and I pulled up the old pea vines, Pop-Pop gassed up the tiller and sprayed it with something that smelled vaguely like...fingernail polish remover. My husband gave the cord a couple of yanks, and the tiller started. Within a few minutes, we had a brand new puliverized seed bed for the second bean crop. My grandsons had a heck of a time swimming in the soft, warm dirt.
We marked off 4 rows on which Sarah planted 2 rows of butterbeans and 2 rows of green beans.
I hope the moon approved.
---------
An almanac is a mystery to me. It is full of strange symbols, disjointed maxims, and vague weather predictions (see, e.g., http://www.rarebookroom.org/Control/frapop/index.html ). Though Pop-Pop can grab an almanac and figure out in 10 seconds flat (once he finds his glasses) when to plant something, I have never even been able to figure out which page that information is printed on. But, wonder of wonders, yesterday when I picked up the almanac, it flopped opened to the "when to plant" page, which Pop-Pop had folded in half for easy reference. As I have been intending to plant a second crop of peas or beans, I ran my finger down the list of vegetables, and there it was: Beans...Moon favorable...8/1-8/16.
"Aw shoot...!" I said out loud. THIS was 8/16, which meant that if I did not get my second crop of peas/beans in the ground THIS VERY DAY, the moon would not smile favorably on my effort.
"What?" said Sarah.
"The almanac says I should plant beans TODAY."
"Well, let's get at it," Sarah said. "I'll help."
I stalled as much as I could. Truth was, I did not want to work in the garden at 3 p.m. "We can't just PLANT," I told Sarah. "First, we have to pull up the pea vines, then we have to plow, and I probably can't get the tiller cranked, and . . . "
"I can pull up pea vines," Sarah said.
"The tiller'll crank," Pop-Pop chimed in.
They were ganging up on me.
While Sarah and I pulled up the old pea vines, Pop-Pop gassed up the tiller and sprayed it with something that smelled vaguely like...fingernail polish remover. My husband gave the cord a couple of yanks, and the tiller started. Within a few minutes, we had a brand new puliverized seed bed for the second bean crop. My grandsons had a heck of a time swimming in the soft, warm dirt.
We marked off 4 rows on which Sarah planted 2 rows of butterbeans and 2 rows of green beans.
I hope the moon approved.
---------
Sunday, August 10, 2008
Totally Peachless
The peach lady was back in town last Wednesday. I bought 1/4 bushel, intending to come straight home and peel them for peach jam, but they were not quite ripe enough, so I left them in the bag to ripen. By Friday, they were perfect. I peeled and chopped them, and put them on the stove to cook. After about an hour, I added spices and sugar to the pan, and turned the heat down to a simmer. I set a kitchen timer to alarm in 10 minutes to remind me to stir the mix, and then I went to the sewing machine to start sewing an outfit I'd cut out for Maddie a week earlier. The kitchen timer idea worked wonderfully for about three stirrings...then I forgot to re-set it. Some time later - not sure how much later - as I was at the sewing machine, I smelled a sharp, peachy smell. I dropped the sewing and ran to the kitchen, but it was too late; the jam had scorched.
About an hour later, my husband came home with two gallons of fresh figs that a co-worker had sent to me. I groaned at the sight, considering my luck with jam this year, and knowing that there were peas and tomatoes in the garden that needed my attention.
Yesterday morning, I got moving early. I sliced about half of the figs and put them in the food dehydrator, then I went to the garden. Nanny had already picked the peas and tomatoes. She was in the process of shelling the peas, and had lined up the tomatoes on our "ripening table" under the tree. I took the ripest ones and brought them home to can. While the tomatoes were cooking, I ground up some of the figs and used them in a fig cake. (Boy, was it GOOD!) The rest are soaking in sugar syrup in my refrigerator.
Maybe I should forget the whole jam idea, and just make cakes.
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About an hour later, my husband came home with two gallons of fresh figs that a co-worker had sent to me. I groaned at the sight, considering my luck with jam this year, and knowing that there were peas and tomatoes in the garden that needed my attention.
Yesterday morning, I got moving early. I sliced about half of the figs and put them in the food dehydrator, then I went to the garden. Nanny had already picked the peas and tomatoes. She was in the process of shelling the peas, and had lined up the tomatoes on our "ripening table" under the tree. I took the ripest ones and brought them home to can. While the tomatoes were cooking, I ground up some of the figs and used them in a fig cake. (Boy, was it GOOD!) The rest are soaking in sugar syrup in my refrigerator.
Maybe I should forget the whole jam idea, and just make cakes.
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