News From the Garden

I feel like I should smoke a corn husk pipe and sit in a rocking chair while I write this, but for those fellow gardeners out there, here is an update on ours:

We've been pulling in a lot of tomatoes lately, which is good because I heard a story on NPR yesterday about a tomato blight that is threatening to destroy most people's crops. I guess the blight was spread by people buying infected plants from box stores like Lowe's and Home Depot, so I'm hoping we'll be spared for buying from a small organic farmer.

Robbie is convinced he created a yellow pepper/tomato hybrid because our heritage variety of "yellow perfection" looks exactly like a small yellow pepper but has the taste and seeds of a tomato. It's one of his new favorite hobbies to show them to people and make them taste a bite.

The greens and herbs are heading into the home stretch but keep on giving. Things that normally go nuts like beans and peas and zucchini are slow (anyone else having this problem?), while we've been able to pull in plenty of beets, carrots, a small head of broccoli, and even a couple of giant spaghetti squash.

I suppose we still have plenty of time for more things to truly explode, including a melon plant and some tomatoes the size of volley-balls, but the darkness and crisp air are slowly and steadily creeping into our late summer days - a reminder that 6 months of winter hibernation are coming. Yuck. In exchange for this unbearable dreariness, Michigan at least rewards us with spectacular color and the endless apple orchards of Fall. But I can't help but wonder, where did the summer go?

The Long-Promised Garden Pictures

These probably don't do Robbie's creation justice, but I had a squirming baby in my arms. C'est la vie.

The main garden


Annual bed turned into bountiful greens.


First strawberries


The melons and even more tomatoes


Eating our first harvest


Peonies finally explode


Backyard


Our new compost tumbler


Our new rain barrel


Our little white house

School's out for summer!!

My final paper is floating around in cyberspace somewhere and I officially have two months off school! That time is already spoken for by too many things to list, but right now I am focused on a 3-week trip to see my family in Utah. Besides the obvious benefit of seeing my friends and family, there is the added benefit that Robbie gets all that time to work on the house uninterrupted!

Since I leave Friday (send positive thoughts that I will survive a plane ride alone with two babies. Or send some strong tranquilizers), Robbie and I have been working feverishly to finish the garden. I will post pics tomorrow, but I am pretty proud of all we've done so far. And Robbie is especially proud that all the neighbors stop and comment on his artful bed-making skills. I thought two rectangles would be good enough, but apparently not for him.

Speaking of gardening, we recently went to a local farm to get heirloom starters and it turned into quite the adventure.

When we pulled up to "Destiny Farms," we saw a large house that had so many strange additions it was almost Escher-esque. We finally found the owners in a maze of gardens, greenhouses, several chicken coops and a couple of ponds. The husband, Mike, his twin sons and the customer he was currently serving immediately swarmed us as we walked up the garden path. I'm used to questions and comments about the boys' albinism, but these people wasted no time in bombarding us with every question in the book. Besides feeling overwhelmed, I was cringing at one boy who kept jumping up and down screaming, "Their eyes are so cool...I want a baby with white hair! I want one of those!" I knew he meant well, so I didn't say anything, but situations like these always make we wonder how I will react when the boys are old enough to understand. Which for Emerson is coming soon.

Anyway, Mike was exactly the kind of guy I picture when I think of small farmers - missing several teeth, smells like grease and manure, wears faded jeans with holes in the knees, has an easy-going manner and of course, has a look in his eye that suggests he's just a touch crazy. In fact, Mike reminded me of a younger version of my late Grandpa - who once owned his own mish-mash of a house and gardens. That's why, despite his lack of tact, I instantly liked him.

He took Robbie around to see the plants and offered him a wealth of information while I struggled to placate the kids. After we loaded up on plants, his wife took us around to see the chickens, including some amazingly beautiful exotic breeds and a few pheasants.

As we drove home in the milky pink dusk, we talked over our adventures that night:

Robbie: Mike told me that he spent a year in a coma when he was younger.

Cassi: How did that come up?

Robbie: I don't know.

Cassi: Did you ask him why he was in a coma?

Robbie: Yes. His response was, "Well, have YOU ever known anyone who's pituitary was crushed?!"

- pause -

Cassi: That's a very strange response. What are you supposed to say to that?

Robbie: I don't know.


That exchange left me laughing and puzzled at the same time. I'm not sure why, but that story seems to explain a lot about Farmer Mike.

In any case, we'll definitely be back next year.

Ahh Spring

The first seedlings in our "Freedom Garden" - one week old



The view from our bedroom of our yard and the old orchard across the street:


The elderly couple that lived in our house before us were excellent gardeners who planted lots of blooming trees, bushes and bulbs, so I'll have to take more pictures when it hits its full glory



Of course, Spring is the season for rain storms and thus galoshes. But according to Emerson, galoshes are appropriate every day - rain or shine: