After the Harvest

October 15, 2018October 15, 201814 Comments

After the Harvest – An Update on the Potager plus what to do with a twelve pack of snakes.

I had high hopes for The Potager back in June, but there may have been a reason my dad planted his garden in the corn field where it could sprawl among the rows of corn. Sprawl is the key word here. My potager was a testament to good soil, it was so prolific, but then it was a hot humid summer with lots of rain, ideal conditions for a rain forest.

Where are the monkeys?

It rained every weekend, and during the week, every few days in fact. This made the mosquitoes plentiful, and some new species of tiny black bug called no-see-ums appeared and left bites which itched for days. I had never seen a no-see-um before, but they left a lasting legacy of scratch marks. I gave up and refused to go out. Luckily, I did not have to water as Mother Nature did it for me, even as she left us bereft of any beach days.

The romaine lettuce was bountiful, and after the first crop, I replanted and it was bountiful too.

Three cucumbers sprouted from the small-garden plant, just the right amount for a Greek salad, with some tomatoes if only I could find them, and when I did find them, many had split from too much rain.

The tomatoes threatened to strangle everything so in early August I gave it a haircut. By mid-Sept it had grown back, requiring a regular trim every 4 to 6 weeks.

I untangled the sole squash, mistakenly uprooting it’s lifeline, and leaving the fruit to wither on the vine. Not deterred, it re-blossomed, producing a final harvest of five smallish orbs.

I was anxiously awaiting the arrival of the multi-colored carrots, and so were the bunnies. We were both disappointed.

While the tops were luxurious, the carrots were sparse, spindly and white, (and maybe useful for the Simply White Dinner). They say you reap what you sow, except I planted three seed potatoes, and got two.

In mid-October (no frost yet, leaves barely changing), I dug up the rest of the russet gems. Not bad for a first crop, but hardly enough to get me through the winter like my Irish ancestors.

Luckily the orange carrots were plentiful, if somewhat deformed from being crammed into too small a space. The bunnies were delighted, as God is my witness, they would never go hungry again. (Scarlet O’Hara – Gone with the Wind). Due to the intricate web of netting I set up, the birds didn’t get as many of the strawberries, but then neither did I – it was too much of a hassle to open and re-close all those wires to pick one or two berries. While reading about another bloggers garden adventures, she recommended rubber snakes be set among the strawberry plants and moved every few days in order to fool the birds. Thank god she told me Walmart sells them online, because I don’t know where you would buy a twelve pack of snakes, and also thank god, those birds aren’t too bright. I’ll keep that in mind for next year, or maybe I’ll just freeze some of the carrots. I also wish I had put spacing and gravel around my boxes like Empty Nest Adventures did, for easier access.

Next years orange snakes?

After the Harvest is a time to reflect on lessons learned….next year plant less, no matter how much you may anticipate the early specimens being carried off by nighttime woodland creatures.

Plant one of everything, one squash, one cucumber, if it’s something you don’t want to breed like rabbits or possibly two like Noah and the Ark, two tomatoes, two potatoes, but no zucchini – ever.

Or just buy more boxes……the New England Arbor charity sale is coming up…..

After the Harvest

PS. There is nothing so wonderful as a golden field of wheat being harvested, or so awful as After the Harvest when you would have to bale all that straw into small bales, with a baler which was forever breaking down, and then load them into the hayloft, a process which was hot and dusty and took hours. Now every time I pass a field with those really big bales that are scooped up by a front end loader, I wonder, why didn’t someone think of that sooner?

Song of the Day: Harvest Moon – Neil Young

The Farmer’s Market

October 8, 2018October 8, 201821 Comments

If you have ever dreamed of packing in city life and moving to the country then this book is for you. Canadian author, Brent Preston turned fantasy into reality in this account of starting an organic vegetable farm and ten years of trial and error and back breaking labor before finally achieving a profitable outcome.

The New Farm: Our Ten Years on the Front Lines of the Good Food Revolution by Brent Preston

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

A must read manual for city dwellers and lovers of the organic food movement about a family who chose to leave the rat race and follow their dream of running a profitable organic vegetable farm. Dust off those fantaseeds and learn the gritty reality of where your food comes from.

Although he might have started out with a simple plan in mind, by the end of the ten years he had mechanized his operations, hired agricultural co-op students for summer labor, perfected a delivery service and marketing campaign, and ended up specializing in just three crops, one of which was lettuce. One of the things he did initially was to participate in the local farmer’s market every Saturday morning, but after a few years of this he packed it in. If you think about it, never a weekend off for you or your kids, up at 4 am to load up the truck and then later in the day unloading the unsold produce. Plus, while he said while he enjoyed the social aspect with the regular customers and the other vendors, there just wasn’t enough profit in it to continue. Better to cater to the fancy restaurants who would pay premium for anything fresh and organic.

There is no doubt we are what we eat and organic food is in – food in it’s natural state. Ask a person who has been lucky enough to live to be over ninety and chances are they grew up on a farm. So farmers markets are booming because organic food is so popular, but are the farmers doing well? I grew up on a farm, 100 acres, so I know how hard it is to make a living on one and how much work is involved. We had a dairy farm with Holsteins when I was a child and my dad had a small herd, three milking machines and a cream contract. He got up at 4:30 am every day to milk the cows, then he would come in, shave and have breakfast (bacon and eggs and perked coffee), as we were getting up for school, by 7:30 he would have left for his other job, home at 4:30, early supper, then milk the cows again, and he would be in bed by ten or falling asleep while reading the paper. On the weekends there were all the other chores to do. Even back then you couldn’t quite make a living on a farm without a second job, and with a growing family, he finally switched to beef cattle instead and cash cropped corn, soybeans and wheat, and while that was a lot of work too, we were finally able to take a family vacation without being tied to the milking schedule. Now farming is big business, a thousand acres or bust. There was an article in the local paper recently about the International Plowing Match which listed a combine as worth $500,000, and a tractor with GPS the same. My dad’s first tractor in 1948 cost $1000 and had a side seat upon which we kids would ride – heaven forbid, no one would let kids do that now. My elderly grandfather who died in 1951, was against the new-fangled modern machinery, as they had to sell his beloved Clydesdale horses in order to buy it. The last tractor my dad bought came equipped with air conditioning and a few years after he died, they had CD players, now they are steering themselves. While farming may be mostly mechanized now, organic vegetable farming is still labor intensive, especially during the harvest. It’s not a job many people want to do, and often the farmers must hire seasonal workers from Mexico or Jamaica to help out.

September is the best time of year to visit a farmer’s market as it is bursting with the last of the summer produce and the early fall harvest. While the peaches and berries may be almost done, the plums, pears, squash, cucumbers, tomatoes, new potatoes and onions are coming in.

Our local market is open Wednesdays in the summer and Saturdays year round. Even in the winter, the inside of the old building is full of root vegetables and cheese and butcher shops, but in the nice weather the outside stalls see the most action. They really need more space, but it’s been in the same place for eighty plus years and you don’t mess with tradition. Located in an older residential part of town, there is one small parking lot and you have to drive round and round waiting for someone else to leave. With about 50 spaces for 200 people it’s kind of like musical chairs for grownups. Luckily, no one lingers long. While you can get a pour over coffee with freshly roasted beans, there is no cafe to sit in or cooked food available. We don’t see a lot of homeless people here but one day a woman with her cart piled high with all her worldly possessions asked me for some money, and with my hands full I shook my head no, but then after putting my produce in the car, I went to find her, and gave her ten dollars, which I suspected might go to drugs but who knows? A friend of mine keeps Tim Horton’s coffee shop gift cards to hand out for this reason, but there is something so very sad about begging in front of a place with so much plenty.

Even in the winter I will visit about once a month, because there is still cheese, and apples and oranges to buy, but I’ve often wondered why they open at 6 am. All the vendors are yawning by noon, or closing up early as they have been up since four loading their trucks. Wouldn’t 8-2 be more civilized hours? If they are supplying restaurants do they need to buy that early? If I don’t get there by 11:30 (or I’m still playing musical chairs), I may miss my favorite cheese stall or they might be out of Gouda.

The cheese wars can be fierce. There are two cheese vendors, right across from each other, and the Battle of The Gouda got so bad last year, they both decided not to post their prices. They will glare across the aisle if they think you have abandoned camp, but if they have run out, what is the alternative? My grandmother was Dutch, so I grew up on Gouda, the mild form, not the spicy seeded variety she bought from The European Shop.

Dutch Inheritance

The market cheese is better than at the grocery store and they will give you a sample if you are undecided. Even if you know you will like it, a sample will often tied you over if you got up early and missed breakfast. Buying cheese at the market is also much cheaper than in the grocery store so I usually stock up on aged cheddar as well as the Gouda. The one cheese vendor has recently retired and been bought out by the egg lady beside them, who I don’t think has gotten the hang of the weigh scale yet as she is very generous with her pounds, or kgs. I don’t buy eggs from her though as I can’t stomach those brown eggs with the bright yellow yolks. It reminds me of the eggs growing up on the farm, but I know free range chickens are all the rage and I am sure they are full of omega-3’s.

I like to look at the flowers, the glads are out now, but I seldom buy as I have lots of flowers at home.

I have my own semi-successful potager, so I don’t feel the need to buy tomatoes, cucumbers or lettuce, but one whiff of the dill brings back memories of my mother canning dill pickles. You can get a free bunch of dill with every large purchase.

The early apples are starting to come in, which will soon mean spies and pies. I can smell the cinnamon now.

My favorite time of year is when the summer fruits are available, the strawberries and peaches. You can get a bushel of overripe fruit for ten dollars and make a whole batch of jam for what you might pay for two jars. There is a jam vendor also, for when you run out, who also sells homemade fruit pies. So definitely there is a cost savings, and the food is so much fresher and better tasting, not to mention not loaded with tons of preservatives and artificial ingredients.

Not everything is better at the market though. Sadly, it is home to the world’s worst bakery which sells the most tasteless bread ever baked, not to mention tarts with uncooked dough and a scant quarter inch of fruit filling. The next time I walk pass, the owner asks if I want something so I venture a tactful complaint – I figure if no one tells him he can’t fix it. He tells me he hired a new baker so I bought butter tarts this time. Same thing. I gave up. There must be an art to making play-doh like that? Butter tarts are a national institution in Canada but I have a fine recipe inherited from my mother. We have much better bakeries in town but I suppose once a vendor has tenure in the building, it’s for life, and so many people don’t know what good pastry tastes like. But the bread – there’s simply no excuse. Bread is the staff of life, but so is good nutritious food. If you ate today, thank a farmer!

PS. Happy (Canadian) Thanksgiving today!

Wild Turkeys

Three Coins in the Fountain

September 30, 2018September 30, 201811 Comments

While trying to take a picture of a water lily in my neighbors fish pond I was struck by how lovely the music of the waterfall was.

There’s something about the tinkling of water in the background that is so relaxing, be it a small backyard waterfall or fountain, or one in a local park or in a big city like Rome.

concrete structure with group of people statues

Photo by Sarah Acconcia Norris on Pexels.com

The Trevi Fountain in Rome is one of the most famous fountains in the world. They say if you throw a coin in the Trevi that your return visit to Rome is guaranteed. Back in the last century during the Audrey Hepburn/Roman Holiday craze there was a movie called Three Coins in the Fountain, a 1950’s chick flick, about this same legend. I watched it recently (inter-library loan having managed to locate it in some obscure archives, thus saving me the $60 advertised on Amazon), and while as a movie it was rather dated, the scenery and especially the fountains were…….bellisimo. (Coins are meant to be thrown using the right hand over the left shoulder. An estimated 3,000 euros are thrown into the fountain each day. The money has been used to subsidize a supermarket for Rome’s needy; however, there are regular attempts to steal coins from the fountain, even though it is illegal to do so. Wikepedia)

If you are a Frank Sinatra fan like me, the best thing by far about the movie, other than the stylish clothes of the era, was the song of the same name.

While replying to a comment back in August, I stumbled upon a travel blog about Rome, with lots of gorgeous photos. So if you wish more information check out this blog……there’s no point in me recapping the whole history of the Trevi fountain when there is a very excellent blogger (Musings of a Whimsical Soul) who already has.

There are two fountains near where I live, one in a local park where I should be walking every day for exercise but don’t. There is often a cold wind off the river in the winter and in the summer it is too hot, but I have no excuse for spring or fall. Still, is is lovely to look at while driving by.

The other one is a larger more expensive fountain downtown. Someone with a lot of money and no heirs (or spending their inheritance), bequeathed $250,000 to the city for a waterfront legacy. Although officially named after it’s benefactor, it is commonly known as the Fish Fountain, because of the fish on the sculpture, thus destroying any hope he might have had for lasting fame. It looks nicer on a clear blue sky day, not foggy like here. Although still warm, we have had many cloudy, rainy days in September and a whole week of the same forecast ahead.

For those of us with less money, the craft store, Michael’s has their fountains on end of season clearance now.

Not quite the Trevi…..

A small indoor fountain can provide some tranquility over the winter as well as add moisture to the dry air.

The local garden center was all sold out of outdoor fountains, although they assured me that one of their landscape architects could design me something like this.

No thanks, it looks like a cross between a fake fireplace and a sacrificial alter/crypt. Still, something smaller for next summer would be nice – gardeners like to plan ahead. In the meantime, I will throw a coin in one of the fountains, and make a wish that the warm weather would never end.

Arrivederci Summer! I know someday you will return…

A Farewell to Summer

September 21, 2018September 21, 201810 Comments

Please join me while we take a last peek at summer and enjoy the first signs of fall….no pumpkin spice or mums involved!

Let’s say goodbye to the flowers first. The petunias fared well with all that rain.

The dinner plate hibiscus are always late to the party, but they are like Beyonce, they make such a statement when they finally arrive that nobody minds.

The Rose of Sharon was so full of flowers it bowed down to Mother Nature.

But the morning glories were not so glorious, lots of foliage draped over the back fence but no buds in sight.

They were very late last year so I still have hope, but here’s a link to last years (unpublished blog), A Glorious September Morning, plus a bee having his last drink of the summer.

The nectar of the gods

My mother always grew glads and zinnias in the farm garden, but this year my glads were a disaster both in color and form. My vision of them lining the back fence like little pink soldiers faded into the sporadic appearance of a spike of pale lavender or orange. Lavender is okay, and peach I could handle, but I dislike orange, and pale orange is even worse. Is it too much to expect the color on the box is the color you get?

glads

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Next year I’ll just buy some at the farmer’s market.

I have never had any luck growing zinnias but my neighbors were prolific,

Zinnias

and the water lilies in their pond finally bloomed.

The sunflowers are drooping but are decorative enough for a vase.

Sunflowers in a Vase

The lavender was late as I replanted it all in the spring, but it still bloomed if not extravagantly.

The hot humid rainy summer produced a rain forest jungle of a vegetable garden which desperately needs sorting out. More on the potager in another blog, after the harvest.

Where are the monkeys?

The monarchs have all flown south, except this little guy with an injured leg/wing who I rescued from a parking lot. He was able to crawl a bit so I brought him home to lie among the lavender.

This year I have seen more monarchs than I have in years. After the township sprayed all the ditches, they almost became extinct, but now that gardeners are planting milkweed again, they are slowly making a comeback. They tend to congregate in Point Pelee Park in southern Ontario on their annual migration route, before crossing Lake Erie to the US and eventually Mexico. Tens of thousands cluster to rest and wait for the right wind conditions to cross the 40 km stretch of lake – the park posts the daily monarch counts on it’s social media pages. One picture is of a friends backyard near the lake, and one is a weather-watcher picture of Point Pelee. I wonder how such a small creature can make such a long journey? For more information on monarchs, check out garden blogger Invitation to the Garden‘s wonderful post on The King of Butterflies. She also has posts about the different kinds of milkweed you can plant to attract butterflies.

just dropping in to say goodbye

Rendevous at Point Pelee Park

Our last look at the beach, and my favorite photo of this summer.

Beach Day

Our first look at fall, the maple leaves they are a changing….

The chestnuts are starting to fall from the trees near the library. Chestnuts always bring back memories of gathering them on my grandmother’s farm at Thanksgiving. Last year one of the librarians made the nicest wreath from chestnuts…..nothing I would attempt as I’m sure it involved lots of glue.

The crab-apples are ripening and getting ready to drop and annoy all the grass cutters.

The first of the apples are being harvested. We stopped at an orchard last week and they had Galas and Mac’s just picked that morning, a bumper crop.

The scarecrow festival has started with a large party in the town square.

The crunch of dry leaves underfoot and the smell of wood smoke reminds us summer is winding down. The days are growing shorter, it’s getting dark by 7:30, time to go inside, light the candles and welcome fall. And if you are in the mood to feather your nest check out last years (unpublished) Autumn Decor blog for some cozy fall ideas.

Fall Flowers

There will be a harvest moon on Sept 24, so here’s some music for a fall night. This song is about as jazzy as I get but it has great lyrics and it always reminds me of my student days and walking home through a park after pub crawling….not sure anyone would do that now in downtown Toronto, they’d probably be mugged or shot.

Song of the Day: Moondance by Van Morrison

“Well, it’s a marvelous night for a moondance
With the stars up above in your eyes
A fantabulous night to make romance
‘Neath the cover of October skies
And all the leaves on the trees are falling…”

A Midsummer Garden Tour (The Color Purple)

July 30, 2018July 30, 20188 Comments

It must be a bad year for garden tours as I have not seen anything advertised and July is almost over. We had a late spring, then it got very hot very suddenly. We had too many days of over 40 C and very little rain and were fast approaching the crispy grass dried out part of summer where everyone but the most die-hard enthusiasts has given up, when the skies opened to a whole week of torrential downpours. Now everything is green again but soggy. Mother Nature is being temperamental this year, but at least we can go to the beach guilt free.

It’s nice to go on garden tours to get inspiration and new ideas, plus it gives you a good excuse to wear a stylish hat, perhaps something with a broad brim and a navy grosgrain ribbon? (I’m always in search of the perfect hat and sometimes the hats are more fun to look at than the flowers). Two years ago, while on a garden tour I snapped a picture of this shady oasis of calm.

While purple and green are not colors that I would ever have thought of for a garden bench, the combination was eye-catching, and I believe the homeowner was ahead of the trend, or maybe I was two years behind as usual. It wasn’t something I thought would work in my predominately pink garden, but I did steal their idea for the birdcage with the ivy flowing from it. (Check Michael’s end of summer sale for birdcage bargains). My ivy did not fare as well being exposed to too much sun, so this year I tried wave petunias which also did not do well either in the small space. Maybe next year a fake ivy plant from the thrift store? Would anyone notice?

I noticed the purple and green theme back in the spring when the nurseries started carrying colored pots. Purple looks particularly striking with pots of herbs,

and since then I have seen deep purple Adirondack chairs as well.

So onto my own little garden space. I will spare you the bedraggled bits and concentrate on the things which looked lovely in June, the most popular time for garden tours.

It was not a great year for the Knock-out roses as I pruned them the first of April and then we had two more weeks of winter, so lots of buds but not as much foliage and many dead branches. For those unfamiliar, Knock-Out roses bloom all summer and are essentially maintenance free.

I have lots of pink roses in my garden and purple can be a great accent color for pink. It can be a dark shade, as in these Jackmanii clematis vines next to the John Cabot climbing roses,

or the purple Salvia, next to the pink Knock-Outs. It can be a mixture of both dark and lighter shades as in this Purple Iris belonging to a neighbor. I bought two clumps of this at the horticultural plant sale in May anticipating next spring. Or it can be a pale lavender shade as in this Russian Sage, and Rose of Sharon. The Russian sage has been in for five years now and is thriving at over three feet tall. It is drought resistant. The Rose of Sharon, eight years old and covered with blooms every year, was another wise choice.

Then there are the mauve hydrangeas who can’t make up their mind if they are pink or blue, (wrong with the aluminum sulfate again).

And of course we can’t forget the lilacs, the delight of every May.

The majority of my lavender plants did not survive the winter so I had to replant, leaving me with a few spiky survivors. This two year old French lavender plant in the back corner although not very full compared to my older English ones, blends in well with the pink wildflowers. Then there were the mistakes. Not every shade of purple is attractive. These foxglove seedlings from the farmer’s market came up a fuchsia color I did not care for at all as I was expecting a rosy pink.

And the Pink Champagne clematis I planted last year bloomed the same bright shade, lovely in it’s own way but clashing with the bubblegum pink of the rose bush beside it. It’s unfortunate these two fuchsia friends could not be together but one is in the side yard and one at the back. Some days I swear I will never buy anything again unless it is in flower and able to speak the truth.

This year I planted multi-colored morning glories in front of this old recycled trellis…..twice. They came up and then seemed to disappear. I suspect the rabbits who lounge in my backyard in the evenings have been munching them for desert. (They were upset because they couldn’t get at all those glorious carrots in the potager. They have now moved on to sampling the petunias). I was pleasantly surprised to see how much purple I actually have in my garden, but as every gardener knows there is always room for more and that neglected corner was telling me to buy a purple clematis to go with the lime green cart, and to think it all started with a garden tour…..

What great ideas have you discovered at a garden tour?

Strawberry Fields Forever

July 2, 2018June 28, 20198 Comments

Strawberry fields forever. It sounds like a strawberry lover’s dream, but fortunately the science of greenhouse genetics has come up with a new strain of strawberry plant which bears fruit for four months – June, July, August and September. Last year I planted two of these ever-bearing varieties which produced enough berries all summer to garnish a salad,

: Mandarin salad with raspberry vinaigrette

and provide the odd nibble, both for me and the birds.

I think the birds feasted, whereas I was more like Emma of Jane Austen fame, the pleasure was in the anticipation. (see literary postscript below)

Although the farmers markets are now full of gorgeous red berries, there is a certain satisfaction to be had in growing your own or in visiting a farm to pick your own fruit, plus it is certainly cheaper. The farm outside town sells quarts for $6 versus $2.50 to pick your own, a significant savings if you are buying enough to make jam or freeze.

I remember going strawberry picking when I was a teenager, (long past the age when helping out was fun), and then spending a couple of hours at the kitchen table hulling the stems before my mother would place them in freezer bags. We always had a long freezer at one end of the farmhouse kitchen, a freezer so vast and deep that if you tried to get to the bottom of it to find the last roast or bag of corn you might topple in. Every summer those berries would go in the freezer and the next summer they would get thrown away. I remember my mother making a strawberry shortcake in the winter exactly once and nobody liked it because the berries were soggy, but there is a vast difference between fresh and frozen soggy.

Our farmhouse strawberry shortcake was not like any of those anemic-looking store-bought cakes or biscuits garnished with a few berries. My mother would start with a golden cake mix, (never white), baked in a long glass pan, and then crush a big bowl of berries (leaving some whole) with a bit of water using a potato masher, adding sugar to taste.

When it was served you would cut your own size of cake, crumble it up, and then the bowl was passed around with a big spoon and you would ladle on a generous portion, certainly enough to make the cake soggy and wet with berries and juice. Whipped cream was optional. I still make my strawberry shortcake this way. Guests who were not used to this old-fashioned version might find it a bit odd but in retrospect it was more like a trifle.

I had a wonderful homemade strawberry trifle last week at a church dinner and nothing beats homemade, but if you want a quick alternative just layer the leftover cake and berries with store-bought vanilla pudding cups (instead of custard) and garnish with whipped cream (from a can but scratch would be divine). It makes a nice easy desert plus it gives me an excuse to use my Downton Abbey thrift shop crystal goblets.

Strawberry Trifle

I made a non-alcoholic and an alcoholic version, adding some brandy to the bottom layer of cake to make it soggy, and it was very good indeed.

Last summer I made strawberry freezer jam for the first time (as part of my Jamfest frenzy), and into the freezer it went, where it still resides and will soon be thrown out……it must be genetic!

I am trying to be more conscious of food wastage, as studies show we throw out a quarter of the food we buy, but a fresh strawberry is such a wonderful thing and the season so short I think we can be forgiven for being extravagant in our stock-piling. Is there really any comparison between a fresh picked berry and those berries the grocery stores pass off as the real thing the rest of the year – tart, tasteless and hard and pulpy inside to withstand shipping.

Still on the rare occasion I need jam for scones I can easily buy a good brand of strawberry-rhubarb jam from my friend’s shop.

I did however make a fresh stewed strawberry-rhubarb preserve this year,

equal cups of strawberries and rhubarb, with a tiny bit of water plus sugar to taste, cooked down to a soft texture on medium heat, which I keep in the fridge and mix with vanilla Greek yogurt, because with all the varieties of yogurt available why don’t they make a strawberry-rhubarb flavor.

Literary postscript: Jane Austen’s Emma wherein Mr. Knightley has issued an invitation to Donwell Abbey, “Come and eat my strawberries: they are ripening fast.”…..”Mrs. Elton, in all her apparatus of happiness, her large bonnet and her basket, was very ready to lead the way in gathering, accepting, or talking — strawberries, and only strawberries, could now be thought or spoken of. — “The best fruit in England — every body’s favourite — always wholesome. These the finest beds and finest sorts. — Delightful to gather for one’s self — the only way of really enjoying them. Morning decidedly the best time — never tired — every sort good — hautboy infinitely superior — no comparison — the others hardly eatable — hautboys very scarce — Chili preferred — white wood finest flavour of all — price of strawberries in London — abundance about Bristol — Maple Grove — cultivation — beds when to be renewed — gardeners thinking exactly different — no general rule — gardeners never to be put out of their way — delicious fruit — only too rich to be eaten much of — inferior to cherries — currants more refreshing — only objection to gathering strawberries the stooping — glaring sun — tired to death — could bear it no longer — must go and sit in the shade.”

My sentiments exactly. 34 C today or 40 with the Humidex….

A Walk Down Peony Lane

June 25, 201812 Comments

One of the rewarding things about gardening is the legacy of loveliness you can leave for future generations. Gardening requires patience as often it takes years to establish something. You might have moved on to a different house or a different life before you see the fruits of your labor, but future generations will stop and bless you when they see the end result, (and part of the pleasure of blogging is sharing these small doses of beauty).

Every June when I was working I would drive by this old house on my daily commute and admire the rows of flowers flanking both sides of a long narrow driveway. The house was on the outskirts of a small town, which must have been farmland at one time due to it’s deep lot and wide expanse of front lawn. Being a novice gardener and knowing next to nothing about flowers, one day I decided to stop and inquire what kind of shrubs they were.

I parked on the side street and knocked on the back door. An elderly gentleman answered, wiping his hands on a towel as I had interrupted his preparations for lunch. Peonies, he said, and if I wanted some I was welcome to dig them up. He had often thought about tearing them all out, but his wife liked them. His father had planted them seventy or eighty years ago. I quickly pleaded with him not to do so, as I and many people driving by had the pleasure of looking at them every year.

I never went back in the fall to dig them up, but the next time I was at a nearby nursery I asked the owner for some peony bushes just like Mr. Peony Lane’s. She was familiar with the house, so I requested one medium pink and one darker one, expecting to wake up to a riot of color in the spring.

The following year when mine flowered,

: my pale pink peonies

two pale things appeared. I know some people like a whitish garden, but I crave color. Although I was disappointed, they were nice in their own way and did so well that I left them and every year they flower, faithfully, because that’s what peonies do!

Postscript: Should you wish to take a walk down peony lane, the video below was taken this past June while driving through the town. (It is my first time posting video so it may or may not work, so I posted lots of pretty pictures). Lest you think I am the kind of person who randomly invades other peoples property, I only ventured a short distance up the lane and tried to focus on the bushes using the zoom lens. I considered knocking on the door, but my initial visit was ten years ago, and I wasn’t sure the elderly man still lived there, plus I had my mother in the car who was tired from an afternoon out. It was a lovely early June day, sunny and warm but with a nice breeze, the kind of day you wish would stay all year. It was cool under the shade of those giant trees – peonies like sun, but will tolerate light shade – a perfect vista of a summer day. Maybe next fall, I will take a shovel and go back….

The Potager

June 5, 2018June 5, 201820 Comments

A potager is a French term for a kitchen garden. Because of my intention to take a break from all things floral, (see the Danger Zone blog), I decided my gardening project for this year would be a vegetable garden. Flowers are pretty to look at but hopefully this will be a more productive endeavor, with the end result being healthier meals to enjoy plus the added fun of growing my own food. Who doesn’t like the convenience of a salad freshly picked from their own garden?

Mandarin salad with raspberry vinaigrette

My first foray into vegetable gardening was last summer as I had bought a raised garden bed and started with some romaine lettuce and two strawberry plants,

plus twelve tomato plants, obviously way too many for such a small space, as a Tomato Jungle (see Sept blog) quickly ensued.

So needing more space, last fall I bought three more raised garden beds at the New England Arbor Charity sale (75% off, $25 each) and after dumping seventy bags of $1 dirt and compost into them, they were the regular price. Never underestimate how much dirt a 4X4 square can hold, or how quickly it can settle. I placed them in the sunniest spot in my yard, but the aroma of lilacs in the back corner is an added perk.

I am not completely unfamiliar with gardens. Growing up on a farm (the homeplace), we always had a large vegetable garden. It was a way of life back then, as anyone whoever spent the hot summer months canning and preserving can testify, plus it was a healthy and cheap way to feed a family. The farm garden was always planted in the cornfield closest to the house for easy access, spread out among the rows of corn, so as not to waste precious corn acreage. It was never planted until the first of June when the danger of a late frost was over. Sometimes we would help my dad plant it, he dug the holes, and we put the seeds in and covered them up with dirt, but other than that I don’t remember it being any work, it just grew. We didn’t weed or water it as it was in the cornfield, mother nature did the rest. It had the usual garden staples, tomatoes, cucumbers, yellow beans, sweet corn, squash plus pumpkins for Halloween. The beans and tomatoes were canned, and my mother made dill pickles with the cucumbers. Many a hot August day, in the years before air conditioning, I would wake and go downstairs to find rows of inverted mason jars covered with tea towels on the kitchen counter-top, as my mom would have been up early to can in the cool of the morning. Later they would be moved to pantry shelves in the basement. I don’t remember eating the canned goods, (as a child I was a picky eater), but I recall my parents having the stewed tomatoes with onions and a fried steak, and we would always have the sweet corn in August, slathered with butter. So, I had great ambitions for my little white squares and visions of a bountiful harvest.

Last year I had bought two ever-bearing strawberry plants and had berries right up until October, (what a wonderful idea, why didn’t someone think of that sooner), that is if the birds didn’t get them first. So this year I bought two more, but covered them up with garden netting. A few days ago, a big black ugly starling lured by the sight of all those green berries, managed to get under the netting, and in a mad flapping panic tried to get out through the chicken wire. I undid the top netting, but the stupid bird still couldn’t find it’s way out, so I turned the garden hose on it and sprayed it (gently, on shower not jet) towards the opening. Bet it doesn’t try that again! (I could understand a little brown sparrow or a hummingbird getting in but a starling the size of a crow? It must have been part of the Cirque du Soleil acrobat team).

Into the same bed, went some romaine and red leaf lettuce. Lately I have been buying red leaf lettuce at the grocery store, but it is also nice to mix the two. The romaine I grew last summer was the best I had ever tasted, or maybe it just seemed that way as I grew it myself. Because I had these in early before the holiday weekend, they are almost ready for picking. Hopefully, they will regrow after, but I intend to fill in two of the other squares with some more in a few weeks to stagger the crop.

Into the second square went the tomato plants, big fat Beefsteak for sandwiches and smaller Roma for salads. I gave up on those tasteless little cherry tomatoes, you can buy those year round in the store, but a big fat home-grown tomato has a distinctive taste and aroma and is a truly wonderful thing.

Into the third square went two rows of carrots, because they are good for your eyesight, one orange, and one multi-coloured. I imagine they will look pretty curled on a salad like in the food magazines.

I am hoping these bunnies aren’t high jump Olympic champions in fence hopping.

Somebunny is waiting for me to plant the carrots.

Also, into that square went three seed potatoes, barely breaking ground now but at least they made it. My dad never grew potatoes, perhaps lingering ancestral memories of the Irish potato famine, so I have no experience with growing potatoes. Maybe I will get enough for a potato salad?

Into the fourth square went my Acorn squash for Thanksgiving, (not butternut as most people prefer), plus one cucumber plant designed for small gardens, so hopefully it won’t sprawl too much.

I did not plant any radishes, because my memories of the farm were the radishes were always way too hot and/or tough depending on the rainfall, nor butter beans as you can buy those in the store cheap and they are often tough as well. My mother often planted gladioli and zinnias in her farm garden, but I have had zero luck with zinnias, although I do have glads planted along the back fence. What I planted seemed like enough for a first-time endeavor – I am looking forward to the harvest. (Next week I will tell you about a new way to cook all your nutritious produce, in my blog, Under Pressure, Instant-Pot for Beginners).

Lately, I have been neglecting my book recommends. This book, In Defense of Food, by Michael Pollan, plus his first book, An Omnivore’s Dilemma really changed how I think about food and eating. Perhaps a bit out of date now, with the current popularity of the high protein Paleo diets, but it made me really stop and think twice before eating any processed food. Much better to eat food in as natural a state as possible, and for those who don’t want to grow their own food, the farmer’s markets are now open!

In Defense of Food: An Eater’s Manifesto by Michael Pollan

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

“Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants.” Simple words that changed my eating habits ten years ago when I first read this book, or at least made me stop and think first. Don’t eat anything your Grandmother wouldn’t recognize as food. Also wise words. This book provides an interesting history and peek into the multi-million dollar processed food industry – what started out as an attempt in the fifties to make food better and healthier and last longer, has backfired so that we now have transfats, plasticizers and softeners in our bread and fast food burgers which never decompose. Certainly an eye-opener – you may never eat the same way again.

The Danger Zone

May 17, 2018May 17, 201812 Comments

May really is the merriest month, and if you are a gardener, no matter what zone you live in, it can also be the most dangerous time of year. The garden centers are starting to bring in their flats of summer annuals and hanging baskets.

Visit any nursery anywhere and everything is a riot of color. The petunias are looking all perky and pretty in their spring finery,

: Pink petunias

their vivid colors saying buy me, buy me….but beware! They require commitment….lots of commitment. This year I intend to save myself a summer of watering and weeding and fertilizing and deadheading and just say no. I will not succumb, I will be strong.

I am at the point in my gardening life where taking care of plants has become burdensome. I enjoyed it when I was working, although I did not always have the time and my flowers suffered for it. It was a respite to dig in dirt on my days off, a mindless occupation which did not require too much thought. One year I had eleven hanging baskets, (what was I thinking), and twenty rose and hydrangea bushes I was trying to get started, but it was too hot to water at ten in the morning when I got up, and it was dark when I returned home from work. But that was also the year my plants looked their best, because I gave up and hired someone in the neighborhood to water them.

: Pink Geraniums in September

It finally got too expensive, (it was a drought year), but I must admit it was a joy to have hanging baskets still vibrant in late September, instead of raggedy, dried out and dead by the end of July.

Paradoxically, now that I am retired and have more time, I am starting to consider gardening a chore and I don’t think I am alone in this. A few years ago I found an abandoned garden cart at the side of the road, (which I brought home and spray painted lime green to hide the sunflower yellow).

: Rescued lime green wrought iron cart

My idea was to get some of the pots up off the ground and out of reach of the bunnies which had multiplied like crazy that year. The homeowner told me to take it, it was free. She even delivered it so desperate was she to get it out of her sight. Having to water all those pots was just too much trouble when they were busy travelling all summer. I didn’t understand at the time, (a few pots?) but now I do.

At this stage in my gardening life I’d much rather read about gardening than do it. I’m ready to leave the pretty plants to someone else, not to mention the sweat and hard work, and live vicariously through someone else’s planting adventures. This gardening book Elizabeth and her German Garden, was first published in 1898 but is still timeless today. (see Enchanted April blog for more about the author).
Elizabeth and Her German Garden by Elizabeth von Arnim

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

A bestseller when it was first released in 1898, this book remains a gardening classic. Of course back then there were the necessary servants and gardeners to do all the hard work, still it remains an entertaining read, and proof that the love of gardening never changes.

Luckily, most of the things in my yard, are easy care – roses and hydrangeas and peonies and lilacs. I like all the old-fashioned flowers our grandmothers had. I have mostly pinks, (double pink Knock-Out roses around both front and back decks), some lavenders (French and English and Rose of Sharon) and a few blues (hydrangeas if the soil cooperates and some struggling delphiniums). I like the look of an English garden with tall waving blooms, (so Downton Abbeyish), but have not had much success with this scheme. Phlox, not good, lupines, disappeared, foxglove awaiting judgement. This year I intend to buy flower seedlings at the farmer’s market as I realized last year they had a better selection and were much cheaper than the nurseries.

Plants can be divided into high maintenance (those that whine please deadhead me, fertilize me, give me a drink), and low maintenance, (those that can take care of themselves). Lavender is as low maintenance as it gets, (it loves drought), plus it’s cheap and smells wonderful.

: Lavender in a blue pot

Heather is also supposed to be a hardy plant, so after spying some flowering on a neighbors lawn while out for an early spring walk, I purchased a ten dollar pot and plopped it in the ground. Odds are it will end up neglected but I’m having visions of Heathcliff and the moors next spring…..

The other reason for not buying as much this year is the price – it just gets too expensive, so I will be haunting the plant sales. When the horticultural society holds its annual plant sale for two dollars, I’ll be there. I’ll even get out of bed early before the best ones are gone. (Well I was there by noon and got six pots of purple and yellow iris, a few bluebells and a twig they said was a Rose of Sharon which I suspect might already be dead, but all for a grand total of six dollars, everything is half price after noon, another reason not to get out of bed).

Impatiens have fallen out of favor here due to a widespread blight, but they have now come out with a hardier strain, so last year I did my own hanging baskets with a flat from a popup nursery and the end result was cheap and cheerful.

The only seeds I usually plant are blue morning glories along the back fence, which almost always put on a glorious show, although they can be very late in the year, (see A Glorious September Morning blog), and this year I’m going to try wildflowers again.

Although I don’t expect it will look like the meadow on the front of the seed packet, I did have some luck one year and it was an inexpensive solution for a poorly drained back corner. Last year I put in glads for the first time, and dug up the bulbs in the fall, but they were pulpy looking when I took them out of storage, so they will need to be replaced.

: Gladioli and Impatiens

But I plan on limiting myself to four baskets of geraniums from the garden centers, two for the front urns, and two for the back deck, no more…..fingers crossed.

: Pink geraniums

My only splurge will be a yellow with pink centre hibiscus bush, because it looks so exotic like the tropics, and my neighbor got one last year but I always seem to be behind on the garden trends.

One year I bought a bougainvillea plant,

: Bougainvillea on it’s best behavior

lured by it’s vivid pinkness, but I do not live in the right zone for tropical plants. It overwintered indoors fine the first year, and even bloomed in February but then it got all spindly and shed until it was moved south to the garbage bin.

So goodbye, farewell, annuals at the garden centre.

I hope you find a good home somewhere else….stay strong!

Progress report to date: 8 hollyhocks at farmers market $3 total, horticultural society plant sale iris & twig $6, one pot of campanula because it looked so purple but when I went to plant it the entire head of flowers fell off ($5 wasted),

six pots of lavender ($3.50 each to replace the ones which didn’t survive our harsh winter),

and my regular bright pink geraniums ($14) which came in a pink pot this year. Why didn’t someone think of matching colored pots sooner instead of those boring taupe things?

The Resistance: a Pink Knock-Out Rose Tree which at $99 is difficult to justify as I already have lots of $20 rose bushes, but there is a bare spot in one corner…..

The Debate: this years hibiscus flavor – Fiesta? Maybe if it goes on sale….

Postscript: The best gardener of all, and the cheapest, is good old Mother Nature!

May Flowers

May 8, 2018May 11, 20185 Comments

April showers bring May flowers, so the saying goes. Finally we are having some signs of spring here after what must be the longest winter ever. Midway through April and nothing but single digit temperatures, flurries and freezing rain. The flowers were up and trying to be brave but why bloom when you can hide. But today it rained, a soft spring rain, destined to bring the first new fuzz out on the trees, a shade of green that is impossible to describe.

Here’s some proof that warm weather is on it’s way.

Forsythia and Siberian Squill,

Purple Vinca,

I like the mixture of colors in this clump of tulips, so cheerful to see while walking on a rainy spring day.

This is the best time of year for lazy gardeners, as mother nature is doing all the work.

All the fruits of last years fall plantings are bursting forth, and we can just sit back and enjoy the show.

my favorite pink tulip

The final sign, the love birds are back and nesting. They arrived during the last ice storm and had that nest assembled practically overnight, hence the messy job. It was so cold they must have felt the need for some extra layers. They need to do some spring cleaning and so do I, but first a cup of tea on the deck to listen to the birds and gaze at nature’s masterpiece.

Postscript: for more pretty flower pics see last weeks post Among the Daffodils.