If I hadn’t been benignly neglecting my planter boxes, I’d have butternut squashes or snow peas growing on the trellis, and zucchini as well. As it is, volunteer sweet peas have flourished, because those boxes are irrigated on a timer that gives them a little water every day. This week I pulled out all the burr clover and aphid-infested collards and Swiss chard, to make room for the flowers, and to plant more seeds.
We cut the snowball bush viburnum down to stumps, because it needs to be given a fresh start. I promise I will give it water during dry spells as well. In former days we put the hose on it in summer, and I don’t know why I stopped.
Bursts of purples meet the eye all over the back garden, from the lobelia…
…to the penstemon…
…to the Blue-Eyed Grass hiding behind a pomegranate bush:
I know that when I go on my trip next week, I won’t be thinking of my garden. But right now, I am reluctant to say good-bye, and I’m thinking of all the changes that will happen without me seeing them. Probably by the time I return the sweet peas will be a little crisp.
But more blossoms might have emerged on the lemon tree.
As I woke on Sunday morning I saw through the slats of my window blinds the full moon going down, against a background that was being colorized from gray to pale blue. Well, it probably wasn’t quite full — because Kate had sent me a picture she took from Panama City, of the full moon on Friday evening. Pretty close, though.
When I went to church I admired the flowering plums, and after my ZOOM church school class that afternoon, I planted SEEDS! A day after the full moon, a few hours before March dawned….
I was so glad to have a surprisingly balmy afternoon to work in, out in the garden. The day before, I had set up lots of little 6-pack trays with potting soil, so that the soil could wick up water and be thoroughly moist. And because I ran out of time to plant anyway.
Two friends, Tim and John, had at different times given me seeds of Love-in-a-Mist from their gardens, one nearby and one in Oregon. So I planted them together, equal amounts, but in such a way that I could tell them apart. When they start sprouting I’ll update my blog report on what I’ve got going in there.
In the planter boxes I poked another (double) row and a half of snow peas into the soil, near where chamomile is coming up through the volunteer sweet peas:
I did some trimming and weeding in the rest of the garden, and discovered these caterpillars munching at my Yellow Bush Lupine. They are Genista Broom Moths, and I threw a few dozen of them into the green bin along with the trimmings. I’ve never noticed them as moths, but they look like they would be easy to miss. Maybe they will be a regular thing now that I have my lupine, which is the type of perennial and evergreen food they are known to like.
I feel about my collard patch the way some people feel about their chickens, or dahlias. They are so beautiful and healthy this year, I feel very proud and thankful, and want to take their picture again and again. Especially now that they are starting to flower, and I know I will need to pull them out and put summer squash in their place in another month or so. There were jungles of Hairy Bittercress in the grove of collards. I pulled weeds and pretty much scalped the plants to cook up a truly huge mess of greens.
Hairy Bittercress
Here is my absolute favorite way to cook collards. It’s a great recipe for church fast days and I make a big batch and put containers in the freezer.
COCONUT BRAISED VEGAN COLLARD GREENS
1 bunch collard greens 1 can of full-fat coconut milk 1 Tblsp. soy sauce 1/2 Tblsp. rice vinegar 1 bay leaf 1 pinch red pepper flakes (opt.) 1/2 tsp. sugar
Wash the greens and chop into bite-sized pieces. Put everything in a pot and simmer until tender. Add a little water if necessary and adjust seasonings to taste and to the quantity of greens.
I have made these several times with different amounts of collards every time. This last time I had at least eight quarts of chopped raw collards but still only used 1 can of coconut milk.
If you have a springtime garden, I hope it contains the minimum
of unwanted munchers and plenty of tender greens. To your health!
peas growing on the trellis, and zucchini as well. As it is, volunteer sweet peas have flourished, because those boxes are irrigated on a timer that gives them a little water every day. This week I pulled out all the burr clover and aphid-infested collards and Swiss chard, to make room for the flowers, and to plant more seeds.
Gladsome Lights 