Wild winter things/Actually working this spring(!!)/Wild winter things.
I’m really, really excited about this spring’s newest projects, but it’s still a little too early to post about. Soon, though! Until then, one mysterious picture. Oohh.
Now, the first day of October, where California is having its first bout of short-lived heavy gloomy stormy weather, my corn patch is a drying deserted crown of yellow spikes. But, before it dried and died, it produced much more than I was expecting. This was my first time ever growing corn in the ground. (And those other times, the not-in-ground times? Those weren’t successful at all.) To think my little patch started like this and ended up giving me actual shoot, silk, husk and kernel is pretty amazing to me.
Of the crop I was able to pick two kinds of corn; the largest and heaviest ears big enough to be called “dinner corn” (above) and the smaller “snack corn” (below) which were still not as developed but still completely edible. We had dinner corn at least four nights.
Of the plants that survived the not-great soil, slugs, shady patches and random accidental failure, all but one were pollinated. Only two ears got corn rot. A few husks had entirely too many aphids living in them, but even those sheltered beautiful yellow corn until it was time to cut, shuck, throw in the pot, and eat. One ear of corn (in the bottom right of the above picture) was too dry to eat and is being saved for seeds so I can start again next year.
(click to enlarge) Corn patch in May
It was not the most perfect crop, nor the most impressive bounty, but I’m still really proud. Proud and thankful for the honey-yellow result. I plan to grow a lot more next year, and in better conditions, now that I have some experience. I don’t even want to try growing another kind. This corn was a delicious sweet hybrid variety which tasted amazing on its own, or with every food I managed to pair it with. Even the husks were beautiful, strong perfect star shapes when I peeled them away. It’s a funny thing, how much your house will seem like fall when you have corn husks hanging and drying everywhere.
So, not to brag or anything? But insert mine-is-bigger-than-yours joke here, and give me a little while to brag about how happy and great my new squash box is doing this year. This zucchini was hiding deep in the box and I only found it by accident. It’s bigger than my arm. I can’t wrap my hand around it. (More opportunity for jokes, there.) Last week we got four loaves of zucchini bread with two enormous-seeming zucchinis, but this one is most definitely even bigger. I can’t even decide what to do with it yet. Squash box: Best Idea Ever.
This beautiful Midsummer day I was greeted with my first full corn tassel! By tomorrow I’ll have a few more, but this one was up and open at sunrise, which I think is pretty magical.
So about a week ago we built a lattice for the bean plants, from a dozen 8 foot wooden furring strips. The idea was to attach a wooden frame to the veggie box permanently, since the previous string contraptions haven’t lasted very long; but actual lattices, even four-foot ones, are really very expensive. The furring strips were only about a dollar each. So it was cheap, easy, and built to fit the box exactly. Bigger picture here.
I’m pretty proud of it and it seems to be working out well so far! The vines have almost reached the top bar already. Knowing my greenbeans I give them two more days of climbing.
So for all of fall/winter my one little borage plant exploded into hundreds of seeds and a scattering of new plants with huge trunks all around the side of my veggie box. Give borage a few spare inches of dirt and in a month you come back and notice you’re missing a whole two feet of space. It was still blooming at almost four feet tall, but I had to cut it down so my veggies could get to the sun. It was that big. This is most of that harvest.
I’m not sure why I’m even drying all of this borage (there are actually 11 bundles this size and a few of just flower stems and fresh leaves, smaller trunks) because I don’t yet know what to do with it, but I’ll figure something out. I saved the freshest leaves for teas and healthy salads (yeah, if you’ve ever tasted borage, the idea of tea probably doesn’t sound appetizing? But practice + tons of orange blossom honey + chamomile = the best PMS-neutralizing tea in the world [colds, too!] and it becomes indispensable real quick, in my humble opinion) & the amount of blooms/seeds I’ve taken from these plants is insane. I’m a step away from my own borage farm. Theoretically.
Borage is a stubborn, strange, absolutely magical plant and I constantly find myself eyeballing it in astonishment and amused confusion after noticing new patches in unexpected places, but I never regret growing that first one plant.
These aren’t actually my trees, they’re my Grandmother’s, but I wanted to brag about my orange picking skills and giant take-home haul. (See the bright blue tub.) Fresh valencia orange juice for weeks!
I love oranges, orange trees, and that bright sweet smell of orange blossoms that shows up sudden and thick right as spring is starting.
These are the two biggest new staples of my garden this spring.
For one, I haven’t given up on my Sisyphus hill this year. Now with a ton of compost, new soil, and a lot of clearing up, I’ve started a corn patch with sister melons. It’s a a bit larger than 4′ by 4′ (think less “where is the tape measure?” and more, “this stick is like four feet long, right?”) and, following the tenant of square foot gardening, I’ve planted what could be 64 plants.
To the right/top of the patch are baby watermelons, and to the top/left are some pink melons. They’re both surrounded by a recycled, broken old plastic pot, a good temporary border until they’re tall enough to fight off grass.
Growing something to the point of production really has been my big heavy boulder on this hill (not to be dramatic…) but it’s always a relief to see something new pop up, like my tiny fast-growing dozens of corn stalks.
The second newest improvement is an entirely new cedar box just for this year’s squash. Last year the squash did so well in the big veggie box, but I think they could do better on their own. The new box is 4′x2′ and doesn’t take up too much room but is perfect for big, bushy growth. Plus I’ve planted five kinds of squash, now that there’s a bigger space for more variety.
A life lesson: this is what will happen if you get sick or lazy (or half/half) and don’t cut or eat your broccoli heads in a timely fashion. Duh.
A little while ago I noticed some green onion shoots growing in my compost from some old scraps I had thrown out. I waited to turn it until the little aliens were strong enough for transplant, which was today. (Plus there was sunshine today!) They’re still a bit scrawny and lanky, but I hope they survive.
The broccoli heads have gotten considerably larger recently; flourishing while every other plant of mine has been inconvenienced (at best) or wounded (worst) by the sudden change in weather. The biggest plants will be ready for harvest soon! Pretty exciting, since it’s my first time ever growing broccoli.
This past week most of my tomato plants exploded in fresh yellow blooms. All over. Not just a few stray blooms, but entire bunches on many different branches. At the end of October, and the beginning of November.
Without much care, without fertilizer, with some random waterings and 80-90degree full sun fall days, my tomato plants are still producing this year.
