Category Archives: my garden

The seeds dropped out.

When my Landscape Lady suggested Delta Sunflowers for my front garden, she said they would reseed themselves year after year. Those in her own garden have done that, and she gave me my original plants from her excess of volunteers when they came up in May of 2017. My plants did make their own starts in succeeding springtimes, but not very many, which I think has something to do with the thick bark mulch. The seedlings that did emerge were not in the right places, so I had to transplant them.

Here I will insert three pictures I took on the dry east side of California’s Central Valley before I ever knew what these sunflowers were, or dreamed that this species would end up in my own garden. These shots show how well they do with no water at all, in temperatures often well above 100°, all summer long. They just keep going.

Last fall and this, I saved some flower heads from my plants, but I could not see any seeds in them. They are very stiff and prickly by the time they are dry enough to be certain the seeds will have matured. This year my second picking of them I set on the workbench as I was going into the house, and there they sat for a couple of weeks, where I walked past many times a day.

One day I noticed seeds under them – the hidden seeds had simply fallen out. I knocked each bristle brush flower hard against the wood and more seeds came out, so now I have a good collection. I can start them myself in the greenhouse and have some sturdy seedlings to plant in exactly the right spots next spring. 🙂

 

Dancers in the wind.

My reward for eating breakfast in a civilized manner was a first-row seat at the birds’ impromptu gala. Every species of little bird I’ve ever seen was in my garden at once, even the titmouse and bluebird, and the Bewick’s wren, those three that I rarely see. In whatever direction I looked, one was hopping around a tree or a path or in transit across the garden.

Instead of carrying my bowl to the computer in the corner, I sat at the table looking straight through the glass across the patio where I could take in the chapel feeder rocking more violently than usual in the wind, and the wisteria vine above it, gently dropping long yellow leaves to pirouette all the way down. The birds who like seeds flitted and flew from their chapel to their fountain spa and made up their aerial choreography on the fly, riding the current of every sudden gust and gale.

Sparrows and juncos, house finches and goldfinches, scribbled wild and invisible designs in the air as they swooped from the plum tree down to the birdbath, and to pots under the fountain to peck around for a few seconds among the hens and chicks, and or newly-planted violas.

It seemed that even their pushing each other off their perches was part of the joy of the morning, and occasionally two or three would do a synchronized pattern of fancy footwork that carried them a distance around the fountain’s rim in a chorus line. One sparrow hopped off a pot down to the ground, but made the trip by means of a high arch — maybe just to feel the lift under his wings. Because it’s fun.

Enjoy the weather!

Gifts from earth and oven.

I’ve never seen this before, a tomato that looks good enough to eat, but when you cut it open, its seeds are sprouting new tomato plants! This one was grown by my neighbor, one of my favorite orange varieties, and why I didn’t try to eat it sooner I don’t know… I left it on the counter, saving it, I guess, for a special lunch…? But then I stopped really seeing it, until yesterday morning I decided to eat it for breakfast. Whoa! What a surprise.

This morning a friend saw the picture and said, “Plant it inside, quick!” and I realized that that is exactly what I wanted to do, so I dug it out of the trash and planted the whole thing just under the soil.

Neighbor Kim took me on a walk this morning to a house where she wanted to pick persimmons, with permission, the Fuyu variety that I’ve mentioned before.

And yesterday I visited Mr. Greenjeans’ place to see the updated garden and how his trees have been pruned. I gave him some Painted Lady Runner Bean seeds, and when we were looking at his Chaste Tree, he gave me seeds right off it. I didn’t know about this tree, but his has been living in a 5-gallon pot for many years and is perfectly happy. Where I found this picture just now it says they don’t like their roots to stay wet, so that sounds ideal for my garden! I will plant them this month.

He also has a new apple tree, a Winterstein, developed by Luther Burbank. It bears its fruit in December! That’s why it’s still looking fresh and green, though it seems to be a little young yet for fruit-bearing.


In my own garden I have fresh and green ornamental cabbage just planted, bok choy sprouts coming up between the rows of peas, and the Painted Lady bean that will not give up until the frost kills it. Being stripped of all its foliage and ripened fruit (dry bean pods) and cut back nearly to the ground does not take the urge to grow out of this perennial runner bean; it just starts climbing up again. The white flies like the new leaves it is putting out.

Back to yesterday – I was happy to be in the church kitchen and to get my hands in the dough, as another parishioner and I baked Communion bread. I also made these five loaves that are traditionally eaten during the Vigil service we have in the evening the night before any of the Twelve Great Feasts.

We often end up with several sets which we keep in the freezer to have on hand, but this week we spared only enough dough (4 oz. each) for one set of five, because we were focusing on the holy bread for the Eucharist. While we are shaping and baking the dough we do not chat but always try to keep in mind Jesus Christ, Who is the Bread of Life…

…and Who feeds us soul and body by many gifts every day,
which He has blessed the earth to give.
Thank you, our loving Father!

How to love a strawberry tree.

This summer my strawberry tree got my attention as never before, for a couple of reasons. First, there was lots of fruit. This is probably because of the wet spring we had, and because the tree is bigger than ever, and has been pruned twice in the last few years.

When I was popping the “berries” into my mouth I noticed that some of them were damaged, or that they were inhabited by other hungry creatures. That began my months-long more intensive engagement with my tree.

Let me tell you why I love this tree so much:

1) My husband and I planted our Arbutus unedo together, perhaps 15 years ago, so it’s got history with me.

2) It grows and grows without demanding any attention; it’s drought-tolerant, shade-tolerant and frost-resistant.

3) Even without its fruit it’s a handsome tree, but its blossoms and fruit add to that beauty over a long period.

4) The fruit is yummy and bears over a long period in late summer and fall, and the birds don’t seem to eat it.

Below, those are pine needles from the tree above, hanging like tinsel all over my tree.

The Strawberry Tree is native to the Mediterranean region, and also western Europe and southern Ireland. Here in California it’s grown a lot as an ornamental and usually the people who are familiar with it as a good landscape tree are surprised that I like to actually eat the fruit. Even the volunteers at the nearest Master Gardener help desk were surprised. I regretted that when I took in a few inedible fruits for their scrutiny I hadn’t brought a bunch of prime examples for snacks as well.

The Master Gardeners thought that the dark mottling of some fruit, which fruit also never ripens but remains hard as it dries up, was likely caused by a watering issue. That seems strange to me, because we had such a wet winter, and late rains, you’d think the tree would still have its roots down deep in the moist earth. But I had given it a long drink even so, before I asked.

They studied and studied my pictures of the worms that were not around anymore for me to bring in as live specimens, but they could not identify them, though a couple of the staff consulted at length their University of California entomology databases. That didn’t surprise me, because if you look online, no one ever mentions one problem with the fruit – all the pests and diseases mentioned affect the leaves or the bark.

We are hoping that these worms will not come back in greater numbers next summer, but if they do, I’ll bring in a live worm for our research. They are icky. I can tell you, they get very excited when you slice their food-house in half, and their writhing about makes them more unlikable.

Let’s switch back to a photo of robust and radiant, healthy fruits. Yum. I think they are best when they are just turning orange, because they are plenty sweet, but still slightly firm. Their flavor then is also brighter than when they red and starting to get soft.

I saw a picture of a crumble cake made with the fruit, in one of the many countries that appreciates them as a food crop, so when I baked a fig and almond cake recently, I added some cut-up fruits. Either they disappeared, or turned blue as did the figs, because there was nothing remotely red or yellow in that cake when we ate it, except the dried apricots.  😦

We haven’t had a frost yet, and I have a feeling I’ll have “berries” to enjoy until we do.