Wolverine, Peas and Barbecue

Wolverine, the boy's Venus Fly Trap, has flowered. We've watched the flower stalks grow for days now and the boy was so happy to see that flower yesterday morning. Being that we know absolutely nothing about carnivorous plants, we never knew he would flower.

Again, since we knew nothing about it, we decided to look it up. It's pretty isn't it?

It's going to die now.

Apparently you should do everything you can to keep it from flowering and at the first sight of a flower stalk, you need to cut it off immediately and the plant may recover. Now that it's extended this energy to flower, and they're apparently pretty fragile plants, he's not going to make it much longer.

I'm having that "parent" moment when you feel like you need to run to the store for a replacement goldfish. It's silly, but he's really attached to that plant. He talks to it and tries to catch ants and flies to feed it. Maybe we can convince him it's a seasonal thing, but with his recent fascination and fear of death and dying, I'm not looking forward to it.

In the garden world:

The eggplant did not like the heat of June one bit and died back. They were in larger pots than the blueberry bushes were, so I transplanted two blueberry bushes to those large pots and then a third into a pot they vacated because it was larger than the pot the third one was in. Hopefully if I baby them during the next few days, they'll do well in their new homes.

I went ahead and planted some zipper peas where some of the zucchini was. I think I have until Aug 30 to plant peas and these are supposed to be rather tolerant of heat, so I think the rest of July and early Aug should be fine for them.

On a lark, I put some more beans in the side bed where the bush cucumbers and purple beans were. They're pole beans, so we'll have to rig something up for them directly, but I think they'll do fine.

The sweet potato vine is sprinting to fill the space the zucchini vacated. I'm finding differing bits of advice as to whether you should cut the runners of the sweet potato vine to make larger tubers under the main plant or let them grow and have many smaller tubers. I'm letting them run for now, but maybe I'll snip them closer to harvest time? Goodness, when IS harvest time for them?

I'm thinking the cucumbers are going to come out sooner rather than later. They aren't flowering anymore and the last 6-7 I've pulled off are bitter as the day is long. That's not good for the bread and butter pickles I made last night. I thought I smelled a bitter one, but dumped it in the bowl with the rest. Then the whiff hit me. I dug out as many as I could find, but someone ins going to have a few bitter bites. I don't think even pickling will save them.

I did, however, find peaches for next to nothing and canned some spicy peach barbecue sauce. I can't wait to try it.

Garden pictures coming tomorrow!

The end :)

The morning comes early. Sweet gardening dreams.

The Death of an Institution - 6 Institutions, That Is

They found me. They always do. You can't hide from them. You can change your locations, till up your garden, move miles and miles away from anyone with anything resembling a garden, but if you plant, they will come. All you can do is stave off the attack. But you will loose. You always will.

Oh the humanity!! "All my pretty one? / Did you say all? O hell-kite! All? / What, all my pretty chickens and their dam / At one fell swoop?" The bones! Look at the bones!!! Ok, so the Macbeth bit is pushing it, and there are no bones, but still. Yuck (note whiny voice), I liked those plants. I suppose I can't be greedy with 20+ pounds of zucchini, but I'm still sad.

In case you haven't figured it out, the SOB's, oh, sorry, the SVB's (squash vine borers) got me. How in the world they found me I'll never know, but by the looks of it, they've been at it for quite a while. I didn't have to cut any of these plants open to view the carnage. What you see is how I found them.

Mixed feelings here. Yes, they were still producing fantastically, but they were all already tinged with powdery mildew and I was going to rip them out in a couple of weeks anyway when we went to California so I could start the fall garden when we returned. This just upped the time table a bit. I'm just fussy that those rotten SVB's dictated when it would happen.

Things are looking up, though. I found the zipper peas I was looking for at the local feed store. I think I can actually plant them in the spaces the zucchini vacated and still get them in on time. I know they vine pretty fiercely, but I'm going to try to do it without trellising them if I can.

It does look empty down there now, but I'm looking forward to the peas.

I went to the store to buy more compost to fill in some beds , and yes, I asked for help this time...the girl kept showing the boy who helped us "Mommy's boo-boo" which erased any pride comeback I might have had. I don't know if it came from the compost which is the most likely or in the bed itself, but I pulled up the most amazing, massive earthworm you've ever seen. I'm half positive it came from the compost bag as I've never seen hide nor hair of an earthworm of any sort around this place, but both kids saw it slither out and were so amazed they tripped over each other to go get the man to come see it.

I suppose everything has a silver lining, right?

The morning comes early. Dream of earthworms, not SVB nightmares.

Pride Cometh Before the Fall, Although Just Barely.

JenGC left a comment on yesterday's post that, "There is never a dull moment at the Ribbit house huh!" I got the comment after stumbling in from running our morning errands. I don't think JenGC knows how right she is. We don't even have to stay home. The drama follows us.

Our last stop of the morning was to run into the Wal-Mart to get some coffee and bleach, not to be consumed together, of course. While I was there, I picked up two 40lb bags of compost to scratch into the dirt where the bush beans were so I could plant some rutabaga. Usually when picking up soil bags, I like to balance the bag across the shopping cart like I do dog food in order to make it easier to get my arms around it to transfer to the car. No such luck here. The cart was far too wide and the bags too short to drape across. I knew when the bag hit the bottom of the cart that this was going to be trouble, and toyed with the idea of asking the register lady to call some help, but decided to hoss it out, myself.

Not the best decision of my life.

I got the first bag out and in the car just fine, however, my grip slipped on the second bag, so I balanced it on the side railing of the cart to adjust my hold. It's amazing the things your mind can process in an instant. The cart began to tip towards me and I knew instantaneously I was going to fall backwards. I judged my position, knew I was neither going to hit the cart return to my right or my rear view mirror on the left and was pretty sure I'd miss the curb behind me. Not fully trusting the calculation between my head and the curb, I made the distinct decision to let go of the bag and thrust my elbows behind me just in case the curb was closer to my head than I thought.

I fell completely backwards. Letting go of the bag, the only thing that kept me weighted forwards, resulted in propelling me backwards like a slingshot, but I judged correctly and got my elbows beneath me just enough to only tap my head on the asphalt.

I swear. You can't make this stuff up.

I lay there for just a second, trying to work out what happened, then I heard the boy in the car wailing that his mommy was dead. The shopping cart was on its side; the compost was now flat on the ground and I knew there was no getting it up with my Bert-and-Ernie arms. To make matters worse, the man who witnessed the entire show and who was parked just on the other side of the cart corral, snickered and pulled out of his parking space without a hi-de-do.

Jerk

A few seconds later, someone did come by and say he didn't see it, but his daughter yelled straight in his year as she watched me fall, so he came to help. I choked down my pride, decided to be a girl, and let the man pick up the cart and cow excrement. I thanked him for helping and told the little girl she had a gentleman for a daddy, something every girl should wish for.

By the by, the boy was still sobbing throughout this because Mommy's elbows were bleeding and he was convinced I had broken a bone and his mommy was dying and wouldn't be his mommy anymore and the police were going to come get him, but he didn't want a new mommy and what would happen to his sister, but I wasn't really going to get in the car with those bloody elbows, was I? Because that would make a mess.

The girl, who henceforth had remained silent on the issue says, "Mommy, you fall. You silly goose, Mom. Mommy, whydju do that? "

I don't know why, but I do know I'm incredibly grateful I moved both kids to the car before I started unloading the cart. It's something I always do without thinking, but now I know it's for good reason.

So now I'm sitting here, several hours later, the impact still lingering in my elbows, waiting for the feeling to return in my little fingers and nursing my bruised ego with peach cobbler.

Those rutabaga had better be worth it. :)

The morning comes early. Sweet gardening dreams.

It's Here! It's Here! It's....Santa Claus?

When Kate from Gardening Without Skills said that my comment had randomly been chosen to receive the gnome she was giving away, I originally thought it was a 'virtual' gift and was just tickled to be able to post a picture of it on my sidebar. But true enough, the gnome was tangible; it arrived at the house and the gnome's features expressed an eagerness to be out of his box and in his new garden home so he could get to work.

Rather, this, of course, is what he would have been thinking had a 2 yr. old not intervened. I had my back to the counter while digging the refrigerator for dinner. The girl declared it was Santa Claus sitting there on the counter. I agreed, and humored her, for yes, in spite of its yellow coat, pointy hat, greenish pants, and watering bucket, it did have a beard and all things with beards are Santa Claus. My foray though the refrigerator must have masked the sound of a chair being lugged across the floor, for the next thing I knew, the girl snatched the gnome and tore off through the house kissing and super speed rocking it. I just knew she was going to break it.

To ensure the gnome's inevitable fate, I dropped the bucket of beans and took off after her. The dog caught wind of the action and chased me chasing the girl super speed rocking and kissing a brand new, breakable, gift gnome that I was going to be dam*&$ if it were to break before I got it in the garden to get the chance to decapitate it myself with the sprawling water hose. It didn't help the commotion that the boy jumped on the ottoman and broadcasted a play by play of the dog chasing me chasing the girl super speed....well, you get the picture.

When it was all over, I do believe the lovely gnome rolled his eyes and pleaded to go home to Kate and Crew.

Here he is, after much initial excitement, all in one piece, and in the side yard guarding the tomato bushes with all his might. He was moved in between the two tomato plants after his photo shoot where he'll be more protected from the hose, 2 yr old rascalls and able to survey and maintain the side yard to perfection. He's an absolute dear and I love him already. He, on the other hand, is kindly reserving judgement on us.

Thank you, Kate!

The morning comes early. Sweet gardening dreams.... Gnome, get to work.

The Vegetable Conspiracy - Revisited

I was walking around the garden this morning, trying to see if one of my zucchini bushes has truly lived out its life, when my neighbor's girlfriend's father (I'll give you a second to follow that...ready?) popped his head over the fence, scared the fool out of me, and began talking about my tomatoes. He waxed on about never being able to grow any, his plants this year not ripening quickly enough, and how much he just loves fresh tomatoes from the garden for his salads.

I took the hint and pulled 7 ripe Romas off and handed them to him across the fence. He was just as thrilled to have them as I was to give them....at first. Then, I remembered. He used the word 'salad'...in the summer time.

A few months ago, I posted about the distinct possibility of there being a conspiracy within the vegetable world whereas when you have all of your lettuce, radishes, and peas for your salads, your tomatoes, cucumbers and peppers are yet but well protected seedlings and have yet to see the light of day. (You can click to go to the original post. I'll wait...OK, ready?)

His comment about a summer salad (this would be one with lettuce and not pasta as the vegetable gods would have us believe) brought everything back to memory. The powers that be in the vegetable world have got us hoodwinked. They try to bamboozle us in the summer by inundating our gardens with beans, squash, peppers, tomatoes, okra, melons, and zucchinis enough to feed a small country in the hopes that it will escape our notice that we are without the main component in a basic salad, and that's 'salad' as in the real thing, baby, with lettuce, peas, carrots, red cabbage, radishes and more. The same holds true in the fall and winter, for then we're occupied with Cabbage Lopers, ravenous squirrels, rogue ravens, and frost and freeze warnings which hold our attention just long enough for us to not long for those plump, shiny, red orbs.

I call shenanigans. You may have won this round, but the gardener will prevail. For we can make salsa with those tomatoes and peppers, and fresh fall or spring lettuce goes awfully nicely on a taco salad.

The morning comes early. Sweet veggie mingling dreams.

Pain and Wonder

Last night I canned some fantastic salsa from a recipe on GardenWeb. My neighbor laughed at me. She could funnel salsa all day long whereas I don't usually touch it, but I've come to realize I don't like my salsa cold. I like it heated through and this salsa when heated to cook was good. Fantastic at that, but whereas I had some of the ingredients from the garden, I had to supplement. I canned it, it worked amazingly well and now it's sitting its purdy self on my shelf. Hopefully when I open a can in a month or two it won't kill us all, for this could end up being "The Coroner's Yard," yet.

Note to self...your hands may have stopped burning quite some time ago from the capsicum in the peppers you cut for the salsa, but that means nothing to your eyeballs when you go to take out your contacts or even put them in the next morning. And yes, the hottest pepper I cut was a little jalapeno. Yes, I'm a wuss; yes, I've been told it before. I still say peppers smell badly, but I've got respect for them now.

Today, I just HAD to find something to do with that gargantuan zucchini. We've got tons sliced and shredded in the freezer, we're not relish eaters, and I know that it's not safe to can zucchini without a pressure canner, which I'm not interested in. But, what I could do is make some zucchini salsa and freeze it! Yay, more salsa!!

You'd think I'd remember to wear gloves, this being less than 5 hours removed from the morning contact experience.

Yeah, me too. But anyway, I made the salsa, got rid of the Goliath zucchini and two of his friends, but the recipe called for nutmeg. I'm not a big nutmeg fan, but I put a bit in. It's not as good as the one I made last night, but it's something new, the zucchini is used, and it's in the freezer.

Harvests are getting smaller. Here's today's. The bush cucumbers over in the large bed are going to get pulled out tomorrow. They've produced one cucumber to the same seeds in the side bed's 20 lbs. They're dying back, have no new blooms and just not worth the water. I still have a few on the vining cucumbers to last the month.

I put the tomatoes on the counter to use for tomorrow's picnic, but I took the red chilies and strung them together to dry.

I hung them in my cabinet in the dark to try to maintain their color, but I've got no idea what to do with them. Seriously, I'll never use them in anything and my new found respect for a measly jalapeno is not helping me look at these things favorably.

But on from the pain to the wonder....

There's just something cute about a baby cantaloupe. There's not much more in the garden which could possibly be cuter.

Except a baby watermelon. Smile for the camera, baby watermelon!

Awww.

Now grow, darn you, grow!

The morning comes early, but I'm still stalling since I'm afraid to take my contacts out. Sweet gardening dreams.

Quien es mas Macho?

Ribbit's zucchini...or.....Loyd Bridges?

Actually, my money's on the two year old, peanut butter face and hands not withstanding, who grabbed it as I walked in the door proclaiming it was her baby and promptly began rocking and singing to it.

Take it away from her. I double dog dare you.

After she pushed it around in her doll stroller, fed it a bottle, gave it a bath and got bored with it, I got it back; it weighed in at 1 lb 12oz, a little over a foot long, and 10 inches around. It just opened yesterday and went berserk with growth over 24 hours. This is the same plant that other monster came from and it's got another waiting to be picked tomorrow. It's probably normal for you who grow zucchini on a regular basis and you're most likely rolling your eyes at me now. That's okay. This sucker can double as a bat! HA!

I love it! Lots of frozen zucchini for me. Woohoo!

The morning comes early. Sweet monstrous zucchini dreams.