Tassels, Thugs, & Scary Scapes

Velcro vs twine ties.

Not entirely sure what Nature Goddess I've pissed off, but her scorched earth policy continues.  I'm trapped indoors for huge blocks of the day, lest I be scorched myself. 

Fortunately, Pissed Off Goddess is kinder to her plant subjects, & they be doing radical thangs without me.





1.  To-mah-toes

Although I don't start my seed germination until April, it doesn't seem to've delayed things with the mater production.

We got babies!

I also found this on the ground one morning.  Pretty much surprised me, as the tomato plants are on a terrace ledge, out of harm's way.  I can't imagine what would be tall enough to knock off a branch, other'n a human. 

Broken.

But I also can't imagine a human in my back garden without the Canine Patrol losing their minds.
However it happened, I've since put the Velcro ties higher up the cages & pruned any errant straggly bits.


2.  Various pepper plants.

My son El Punko's started a tradition where, at Christmas, he gives me a seed kit.  Or two.  Or three.  Usually they're weird & wonderful - I'm currently trying to get olive tree seeds to germinate.

This year, he gave me 6 varieties of chili peppers to go with my garlic crop - I'm a great fan of chili & garlic oil on just about everything, including grilled cheese.

My father excelled at growing both hot & sweet peppers.  He'd pick the hot chilis & pop them in his mouth, seeds & all.  But that was his success below the Mason-Dixon, & this is my 1st try in the British Isles.

Flowers go leor.

So while my to-mah-toes've caught up with the rest of the SoS-ers, my peppers are only at the flowering stage.  I've not seen any flowers turn into baby peppers, so am wondering if this whole experiment is slightly . . . yes, I'm going to say it. 

Fruitless.

Moving quickly along . . .


3.  More babies.

Life isn't worth living without a battalion of Halloween jack-o-lanterns.  We always have at least one vine.  While we save a little fruit for Thanksgiving pies, & some family members love the seeds, for me, it's only about Halloween.

Let it grow!

So when selecting what pumpkins I'll be growing, it's all about carving size & nothing else. 

This year has taught me to be more discerning in future.  These pumpkins are thugs.  Not only are they trying to strangle the corn plants, but the vines themselves stand about 30" or more. 

Thugs

I've never battled my pumpkin vines before, but since about Week 2, I've been cutting & chopping & redirecting to stop the corn from being smothered.

And it's only July.  God help me.


4.  Corn update.

Last week, I lamented the disparity in my 2 types of corn plants.  I reckon word got back to the corn field, because this week, the shorter of the varieties started to tassel.

Shorty gets growing.

That'll teach me to open my gob.


5.  Cutest babies.

This is my first year for cucumelons & they're going for bust up the bed spring trellis.  Their flowers are entirely unimpressive &, from what others say about their taste, I'm not going to relish eating them.

But you got to admit, they take gorgeous baby photos.

Cute-cumelon babies.

Which may or may not be reason enough to grow them again.  I'll get back to you once I bite one of their chillen.


6.  Scapes.

The last bunch of garlic that I left drying out in the shed had about 3 scapes amongst them.  These somehow multiplied during the drying process.  Considerably.

Last of the scapes.

What I didn't have the presence of mind to do, was to photograph them while they were still attached.  Imagine going into your shed & seeing this, only with all the scapes looking out the window.

Decapitated scapes.

Ever so slightly creepy, let me tell you.

Bindweed on the gate.

And that's what's happening this week in my garden.

This blog is part of The Propagator's meme, #SixonSaturday.  Hit the link to see what he's writing about this week (including one fantastic nasturtium I gotta have next year).  In his comment section, you'll find links to bloggers from all over the world highlighting six things you definitely want to see.  For voyeurs like myself, it's great stuff.

Thanks so much for stopping by my patch.  Leave a comment if you've got one, & then do come back next week.

See ya then!

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!

Prodigal SoS-er

Spying on the neighbours during rest breaks.

The garden's in post-spring frenzy.  There's me flying behind, clinging to its coat tail. 

As such, it's been about 6 weeks since my last SoS post, which means you've missed my bluebells & irises & the 1st dwarf French bean flowers.

Fortunately, there's plenty of other #SixonSaturday bloggers, keeping pace with the season.

Be sure to check out The Propagator for his Six & links to all the rest of the gang.

So, the garden.



1.  Summertime & the ground elder is blooming.

The last time I lived with ground elder was 3 gardens ago.  At that time, I waged war.  An older & less healthy me decided to live with it in this garden.   I mow the flowerbeds it's taken over, not planting anything else there.  Around the edges of the deck, it grows with impunity.

Elegant ground elder.

Some local residents are glad of its presence.

Drunk on ground elder.

2.  Peony.

The clasped burgundy hands that surprised me by poking up this spring, have come into glorious bloom, upstaging everything else in the garden.

Dessert.

This peony's such a well formed shrub, I hesitated cutting any of the flowers.  Then either the wind or a cat or a passing banshee bent one of the stems.  How are we blessed with anything that beautiful?

Indoor peony.

3.  Shade garden.

Fighting with slugs over hostas never seemed worth it before, but I wanted a gillenia & something with a different foliage to contrast it.  After an initial slug nibble on the hosta, I circled it with dead cedar fronds, & the slugs've left it alone.  Think the plant combo's working out quite well.

Gillenia, hosta, herb Robert, ferns & Doodle tail (w/possible sleeping BigNose behind the chair).

4.  Too stupid to breathe.

All those long weeks ago, my last blog entry generated conversations about what the fruit trees were at the bottom of our garden.  Best guess from the best guessers was plum or cherry.  However, I'd convinced myself that it was the same type tree as the neighbour's on the other side of the fence.  The dried fruit on that tree were too big to be plum or cherry.

Then our hero, Fencing Guy, enters stage left.  He says to Hot-On-The-Tree-ID-Trail-Me, those trees don't have the same bark.  Meaning my tree & the one next door.

It's a struggle, gardening & not being very bright.

Anyway, in that same vein, I was very excited to plant our terraced area of the garden.  It had pavers over it, which I lifted to discover soil.  Well, if we add a little this, add a little that, then this here's where the maters would grow.

Seeds were germinated, pricked, potted on.  After the last fear of frost, out to the terrace with myself.  Dig, dig, dig.  An inch or so down, builder's rubble.

The soil was plant material accumulated over the years.  I knew the garden'd been neglected for a raccoon's age.  Just too stupid to breathe, that's me.

Anyhoo, the terrace as it looks today.

Veg garden.

5.  Mystery visitor.

When lifting the terrace pavers for the tomato planters (that need to sit on gravel, rather than concrete), I found this little guy. 

Snakes are common where I come from, but the only snake I've seen in the UK is an adder.  This fella doesn't really look like a snake to me - something about the head.  Is it a snake?

What's my name?

6.  My favourite thing.

I don't think I've ever shared a photo of my favourite tree, the Crooked Cherry.  Some day I'll tell you how it came to be called crooked (no relative of Nixon) & how it came to live with me.

Until then, here's Ole Crooked with valerian, Carolina allspice & what I call loose strife but others call toad flax.  I'm probably wrong (see #4 above).

Keeps getting better.

Ditch them maters.

That's what's happening in my garden this week.  Sun's shining, tomatoes, peas & beans are blooming, last mess of beans've germinated.  Time to put my feet up.

Or maybe not.  Looks like someone has other plans for my afternoon.


Hope to see you again, soon.  Until next time . . .