Making the Best of It

Aubergine in waiting.

The OAP Fairy Person next door always comments on how nice my garden looks. 

I'd think she was nuts, if someone hadn't told me what this place looked like when it was a grow house. 

Vines breaching the 2nd story window.  The lawn covered in rubbish, bits & bobs of which still get thrown up when we mow.  I've dug out brambles thicker'n my big toe. 

Thistles & nettles & bindweed, o my!

A horrible winter followed by a horrible summer, trying to get things growing in ground that's been neglected for years . . .

But with nature, there's always little spots of joy.






1.  Pumpkin update.

I now officially have 3 pumpkins.  About half what I'd hoped for, but a pumpkin in the hand, etc., etc.

The biggest Pumpkin Grows Gruff.

2.  Sunflowers.

Someone last week wrote about their sunflowers (& other blooms, I think) facing an edifice.  This week, that trend has hit 2 sunflowers in my garden, with one facing the fence, the other the house wall.

In a huff.

All my sunflowers are short this year, only about 4'.  But I've got blooms &, in the autumn, seed heads for the birds.

This one's not shy.

3.  Wind damage.

Last weekend brought rain & with it, wind.  There were a few battered leaves & some plant supports that needed reset.  And then there was this.

AAaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!

If you grow corn in the UK, you know what a folderol it is.  Then to have your baby dashed to the ground by an uncaring storm . . .

Defeat is unacceptable.

The OAP Fairy Person dropped by a lovely bouquet, so I made good use of it.


4.  Mr Mullein

Prior to the rain, I decapitated the mullein seed head in a bid to conserve moisture.  Post rain, there's new flower buds all up & down the mullein's stem.  That'll look interesting.

The rebel.

5.  Seeds

While the mullein is starting over, it's harvest time for both nigella & poppy.  The cooks are pleased, but think the poppies should step up their game to match the nigella. 

The cooks think these are for them.  Har!

6.  Sole survivor.

I had crap luck with my spring onions this year.  Very few germinated & the ones that did, bit the dust. 

Except for this one, that I stuck into a flower planter in hopes it'll go to seed.  I think it's dancing.

Short & fat spring onion.

The plant behind it is a blue daisy that bloomed once, but declined to repeat its performance after dead heading.  What a blah summer we've had.

Glads!

And there's my Six for the week. 


Make sure to drop by our host, The Propagator who's managed to post his own Six, even though he's on holidays.


So when are you going to join our #SixonSaturday gang?  We're a nosy bunch & would love to see your garden.


See you next week!

Taking the Heat

Yellow Queen Columbine.

It's time for my #SixonSaturday, a selection of goodies that've appeared, failed or thrived in the garden this week.


Here, we're having unusually high temps & no rain.  The garden hose & I've become one entity patrolling the brown lawn, sunburned leaves & ripening fruits.




1.  Beans!

It's a veritable bean fever in our garden. We've got fire tongues & yin yang, to which we add the blauschokker & spring blush mange tout.

Beans & more.

Our resident cook has the easiest & most delicious way of cooking these bad fellas.  Let them sit in boiling water for 5 minutes (no cooking, just sitting), drain, toss with a bit of sesame seed oil & the sesame seeds themselves.

Easy side dish.

2.  Astrantia Wars.

Someone gave me my first astrantia nearly 10 years ago & I've been smitten every since.  I don't know the variety of that one, but it had a large faded blossom, like your favourite purple jeans sent through the wash too many times.

Don't get me wrong - I love the dark & vibrant astrantia.  This year, however, my heart is torn between two loves.

Astrantia Roma

. . . and . . .

Astrantia Maxima

Still loving that faded jeans vibe, I guess.


3.  More foot race than war in the corn field.

My first batch of corn plants were Sutton's Sundance.  During the hardening up process, a good third of them died, which effectively tossed my block planting over the wall.

By that time, Sutton's was out of corn plants, as were most everyone else except for Harrod's.  It was a risk buying from someone else, what with the potential their plants would be younger, not to mention they weren't the same strain.  But without more plants, germination was going to be iffy.

The joy when the Harrod plants arrived & were about the same size as the Sutton plants.

Corn Bouquet.

Three weeks later, my best laid plan is foiled again.  The Harrod's plants lag significantly behind the Sutton's Sundance.  I assume the difference in strain is the problem. 

Harrod Shorty in front, Tall Sutton in back.

Hand pollination, here we come.  Hopefully a few plants will produce a few kernels.  Next year, though, think I'll go back to growing from seed.


4.  Mystery tree.

Remember the unknown fruit tree at the bottom of the garden?  Every morning, this particularly fat pigeon tries to have breakfast there, creeping down the branch toward its goal, but eventually cascading wings over tail & out of the tree with an empty belly.  It's even tried eating from the holly tree next to it, but no joy.

Pigeon bait.

As to the tree's identity, I'm thinking it's a cherry tree.  But then you SoS lot told me one of my alleged cherry trees is actually a plum, so . . .


5.  Mater ties.

My mother used old stockings to tie up her tomato plants.  I always used garden twine, which in my hands, wasn't effective.  By the end of summer, my tomatoes looked like Romans relaxing over their dinner.

This year, I went shopping for tomato cages & discovered Velcro ties instead.  The new-fangled always tempts me, so out came the cash, home went the Velcro.  The maters loved them.

New ties.

As the maters grew toward the roof of the cages, more Velcro was needed, but it was a little too close to payday.  Perusing the situation, I decided to take the bottom tie off & move it to the top.  And wow . . .

No bottom tie needed.

By the time another layer of ties is needed, the base of the plant's big & ugly enough to support itself.  Great stuff.


6.  Free stuff welcomed here.

One of my neighbours had a leftover eggplant & decided we looked like a good adoptive home.

Orphan eggplant.

My mother grew aubergine & canned all sorts of delicious sauces with it in.  Being the only eggplant eater in my own family, I'd never tried growing it. 

Recently, one of the cooks in the house converted, but even if it were still only me, who turns down free plants?  So we shall keep you posted on this lovely item.

Inspector Butt

And that's me done writing.

To keep up with the latest international garden sagas, drop by The Propagator who hosts this meme.  He always has a cracking Six himself, plus a comment section full of links to all the others

Hope your garden is surviving the weather & gives you plenty of tales to tell.  If you've not joined us in SoS-ing, why not start now?

Until next week, stay hydrated, use sunscreen, & eat your veg.

See you around!