Late winter planting

Totally garden weekend at the homestead. Well, garden and Alice in Wonderland.

Yesterday, we got about two-thirds of the way through first spring weeding. As late harvest, we pulled out the last of the red beets (about seven or eight), and some parsnips (a handful). No larger than half a fist for any of them, but maybe we'll eat 'em tonight.

The north corner was planted sometime in fall (Kat says) with mucho celery, a line of broccoli and cauliflower, some peas, bunching onions, and celeriac.

The peas were not successful, and the rest of the group is extremely slow going. We really should have noted when those went in, 'cause I could have sworn it was late fall or even early winter. So be it. I suspect we may have planted all those off season. That might be the problem there. We got 'em all from Annie's Annuals down the road.

Anyhow, the only other things that are in the ground (and growing) now are a family of garlic planted by Isabel sometime last year, also very slow growing, a walking stick kale, and a row or two of Swiss chard. And the wormwood, just because.

And two of the other three beds (south and east) are now turned. And we just planted: a row of golden beets (50 days to harvest) in the furthest row back in the east bed, a row of daikon (60 days to harvest), a couple rows of rainbow hybrid carrots (75 days to harvest), and leftover dragon carrots (90 days to harvest) which didn't take when we planted them about six months ago.

We'll see what comes of it!

Here it is, August 31st. So far this year we've grown the following eatables:

brussel sprouts (which failed... snails love 'em)
artichokes
ronde nisse
black zucchini
10 varieties of tomato
haricot tricolor
kentucky pole beans
mesclun
carrots
green peas
snap peas
japanese eggplant
romaine lettuce
scarlet runner beans
fava beans
parsley
sweet basil and thai basil
english thyme
tarragon
greek oregano
spearmint and chocolate mint
persian cucumbers
arugula
spinach
garlic
quinoa and rainbow amaranth
strawberries
calico, blue, and popping corn
2 kinds of cantaloupe and a moon and stars watermelon (we've yet to yield anything)
pumpkins
a pepper
turnips
radishes
mustard and kale
edamame (seedlings now)
okra (seedlings now... an experiment)
cornichon
cauliflower
radicchio

It's pretty amazing how many vegetables we've been able to grow in such a small space. Granted, not all of these worked, some are done, some are growing now, and others are just planted, but it seems like a lot. Let's hope we can keep it up!

The soil is alive.

Here at The Homestead we've been bringing in a slow and steady crop of beans and tomatoes and cucumbers.

We went out to the garden to do some work today in preparation for some late summer planting and I was excited to find some dry-growing little grey and orange mushrooms underneath the indian corn. Not much, and I couldn't find out what kind they were, but exciting that another of the Biotic Kingdoms elected to join in the fun.

We made a few decisions to cull what was out there: 1) Pull up the garden peas, as they were ready to go, 2) Pull up what was left of the spinach, which wasn't much, 3) Cut losses on the three mustard plants, which Kat had dreams of turning into, well, mustard, but which was getting really big and unmanageable, and 4) Be done with the "mangy" kale.

As I started pulling out the mustard, which was planted in between the kale and in front of the spinach in the southwest quadrant, Kat kneeled down and noted that the ground was teeming with tiny white creatures of some sort.

Perhaps we'll go get some ladybugs.

Stop! Harvest Time!

Behold.

The Ronde De Nice squash is uncertain and only producing a serviceable fruit every several days now. There's one in there in the middle.

The zucchini's leaves are yellowing and my guess is it has a couple more weeks at best. In the meantime, it's delivering superzukes, as shown on the left.

But the cucumbers and cornichons are making up for it, (on the right) and the tomatoes are nearing their red (or black or green, depending) and juicy tipping point (buried in the back but soon to be in the foreground, for sure). And the beans (green, purple, and fava) are a steady and reliable, if not as prolific, source over these past several weeks, with more to come there, we're sure.

I suggested last night that we could slice a cucumber and a zucchini and alternate the slices, kind of like a vegan turducken. The Kat was displeased with this.

No matter, it appears that cucumber-zucchini salad is quite a hit on the Ivory Coast.

Anyhow, that there is over 8 and a half pounds of food, all pulled out of the dirt today. Hurrah.

Red and Black (and Yellow)

Yesterday, I purchased a heavyduty trellis, and thought to myself, "I really could make this instead of buying it."

It was for two of the tomato plants we have by the south side of The Homestead. Kat planted them right in the bags of compost, and they've done wonderfully. One is a black tomato (a few harvested yesterday), and the other is a red of some sort.

They have grown crazy-big. They were falling forward on to the ground. They needed support. So I got a trellis, and we tied 'em up. I think we're going to have a lot of tomatoes very soon.

There is also a very sad little yellow tomato there (one fruit harvested yesterday). We freed it of its dying leaves and hope it comes back to us.

And water all around.

Yesterday for lunch, I ate a bunch of zucchini and purple beans, sauteed in olive oil and tarragon.

Today, I will finally get us to some point of completion on preparation for next Saturday's garage sale.

Plumbing

Only one bathroom at The Homestead.

And the bathroom sink started leaking this week.

Nothing fatal. A towel did us fine for a while.

I got out our copy of Dare to Repair which inspired Kat to pay a visit to the hardware store for a slip joint J bend and a plumber's wrench. ("It's IRON," she said, eyes wide, almost conspiratorially, like the Iron Age had just dawned, and she was the first member of the species to possess such a thing.)

And 40 minutes or so later, and some muscle, fine tuning and breaking some stuff and the sink no longer leaks.

Probably would have taken 20 minutes if we hadn't got distracted talking about dreams of a greywater system.

Paint

I knew strange things were afoot at The Homestead when the paint chips showed up above the fireplace about three weeks ago.

I didn't ask about them. But they were there. A new set of guests with us, here on the Urban Fringe. They took up very little space, and were totally unassuming, so I didn't think much of them. But they were there, and that meant something.

And then, I came home one evening about two weeks ago, and there was a splash of paint on the wall.

And I thought, "That's way too dark." And then I said as much to Kat.

And she said, "But it's Doo-RANG-Go."

And I said, "Yeah, Durango's way too dark."

In the two weeks between, a whole crowd of paint chips have gathered in the front room.

And this morning, we decided that we like El Camino.

"We're just working our way through paint named after ugly cars," says Kat.

No need for a car out here on the Urban Fringe. Once we're done, we'll have everything we could ever need. Right here. All within our El Camino walls.