Tag Archives: seeds

September warmed and sweetened.

food and cooking, my garden, summer, wildflowers, , , , , ,

My worries about September being too cool did not come to pass. We even had a sort of heat wave for two days, and one night when the temperature did not drop below the mid-60’s. As soon as the sun set that evening, we opened the windows and started running the fans. It was cooler the next night, back to our usual marine air, and being able to leave the windows open night and day, and even to let the sun shine in.

It’s warm enough to ripen figs, and we have eaten a few, but something is not right with my tree. Most of the figs turn purple before they get any size, and fall off when they are still small and hard. The ground is littered with them. I have spent a lot of time trying to figure out what the problem is, but I still don’t know.

At least, this year I’m happy about the tomatoes. It’s not often anymore that I have home-grown, vine-ripened “love apples” here, other than cherry tomatoes. I suppose one could make a BLT with those, but it never occurred to me. This summer I have Early Girls, and I wanted to make at least one sandwich using slices of them, lettuce and bacon. I accomplished that goal, and it was well worth the trouble.

And I used a few stems of the abundant tarragon to make the wonderful Tarragon Salsa Verde:

  • leaves from 1 small bunch fresh parsley (approx. 20g / 1 cup)
  • leaves from fresh tarragon (approx. 5g / 1/4 cup)
  • 1 spring onion including green part (roughly chopped)
  • zest of 1 lemon and juice of 1/2 lemon
  • 1 teaspoon sea salt flakes or 1/2 teaspoon pouring salt
  • 6 tablespoons olive oil

Mix all in a food processor and use as a dip, a spread for bread or on baked chicken, or eggs. It’s just wonderful. I even froze a little batch one time and used it later.

It comes to mind just now, that this salsa would probably make a nice addition to a BLT… I might try that before the tomatoes and tarragon have become a memory.

It wasn’t until last week that I got around to bringing flowers into the house, a bouquet of zinnias, with sweet peas and basil. This year I seem to be content to just stare out at the garden, or wander the paths doing little things, and procrastinating on this year’s Fall Reorganizing. Living where the winters are mild makes it possible — and often beneficial — to put off planting or transplanting until October. But extending the season has its down side; I hope next year I won’t have to do any of this moving-plants-around kind of work — but that’s what I’ve said for three years now.

I opened up one dried flower of the Queen Anne’s Lace that had self-sowed next to my driveway, and sprinkled the seeds among the Mexican Evening Primrose that grow in that arid corner. The latter needs a least a little water in the summer, and is always overrun by weeds. The Queen Anne’s Lace grows vigorously all over the place without any summer water. Maybe it will thrive, and crowd out a few of the less beautiful weeds.

On one of those hot days I did loads of laundry, and used the clothesline. The overflowing basket of items that needed special treatment in the sink is now empty! These two pillowcases that are a hundred years old are fresh and clean. I inherited them from my husband’s aunts or grandmother, and they were a little yellow in places. Now I will start using them. I’m not certain about the monogram… I think it might be FLK? If it is, I don’t know which relative that could be.

Now that Bea is living here, my kitchen is getting more use; it’s really fun to have a girl around who likes cooking and produces things for me to taste. Recently she made meringues from aquafaba! I knew that liquid from canned garbanzo beans was a versatile ingredient, but I had no idea it could substitute for egg whites in this way. She used aquafaba, sugar, and vanilla. When I was first eating the cookie, I didn’t realize it wasn’t a regular meringue, because she had made them after I went to bed. They were very nice.

Flowers, cookies, tomatoes and figs — September so far is warm and sweet.

 

Sunday afternoon…

church, friends, my garden, , , , ,

At church we had quite a few people received into the catechumenate before Liturgy. Of them, I had only met one family before, and I sat with them at the agape meal afterward. I had mistakenly thought it was my turn to work in the bookstore right off the dining hall; when I found out I had the “day off,” I switched gears, and got in line for a plate of chicken and rice and vegetables.

First I sat with the new family, and another catechumen joined us, and they told stories about how they got to this place in their life where they have committed to follow the Orthodox path. A couple more people stopped by to chat and share news. What is the best news? We suddenly have at least three families expecting babies!

After that conversation broke up, I moved out to the patio and joined another table of friends, and caught up a little bit on their lives. Twenty years ago one of those women and I had been in the same catechumen class together. Last spring she learned through a series of freak events — which could only be considered providential — that she had a serious genetic heart defect, and within a few weeks had open heart surgery to correct the problems that had developed without her being aware. She is on the mend now, and I was grateful to sit there by her as we rejoiced together in her survival, and in our very existence.

When I finally came home, I watered the Italian Silver Rib Chard seeds I’d planted in the ground on Friday evening, in a place where plenty of morning and midday sun will shine on them and give them a good start in the next weeks. Saturday I seeded parsley and other greens into 4-inch pots in the greenhouse. I don’t want to transplant them into the ground until I have cut down the asparagus jungle; right now it would shade that area too much.

I drank tea, and read a few poems, and articles about poetry. I’ve been sitting here just being thankful for poetry, and how happy it makes me to read poems that I like. I really want to memorize more of my favorites, including Psalms, though I find it really challenging these days.

At this point I ought to insert a short poem. Instead, I will show you the new Monarch caterpillar I discovered, ten feet or more away from where the first one disappeared.

We are pretty sure the first one didn’t crawl across the wood mulch that far to find this relatively healthy patch of leaves to munch on. So this is Caterpillar #2, and he was still there ten minutes ago when I went out to check on him; he seems to be making himself into a J shape, which is what they do before forming the chrysalis.

One of the Narrow-Leaf plants has managed to make a few narrow seed pods, in spite of the severe aphid damage. I hope they develop to the point of splitting open to reveal the fluffy white contents.

The Japanese anemones I planted not long ago are starting to bloom. In the front garden I have deep pink ones. They seem very robust, but they are afflicted with powdery mildew, poor things. And many of the flowers have fewer petals than is normal, or they are differently arranged — hmmm.

While I was out checking on the caterpillar, I snacked on a few fruits of the Arbutus unedo, known as the “Strawberry Tree.”

This year I’m not going to the mountains in late summer the way I usually do, so I have more time to enjoy the garden — and pay better attention to it. Figs are starting to ripen, and the basil crop is abundant. Time to make pesto!

Today was a lovely warm day, with sunshine. Now it’s evening, and nearly the eve of September. Good-bye to August!

Tiny things grow great and mighty.

my garden, poetry, , , , ,

May is for flowers! The first white echinacea opened today, and many other lovelies are in full bloom, like the Chocolate Cosmos, and a fancy mullein I planted in the fall. I hope it gets tall like the wild ones. Sorry, I can’t seem to get a good picture of it yet.

It’s the time of year when the poppies and nigella begin to look a mess, so I spent quite a while today pulling them out of the area by the front door. The picture above shows the situation “before.”  I also removed one of the three salvia clevelandii that live there; you can sort of see one at the back, reaching for the sky with its long branches. The latest landscaper was a hopeless over-planter, I am realizing every day. I love that salvia and its herby scent, but it gets big. One of them to “anchor” the bed would have been plenty. They are casting too much shade, and crowding the Clary Sage that will bloom next month.

Fuligo septica

I discovered the above thing clinging to the inside of a planter box and a milkweed plant. I pointed my phone’s Seek app at it and it knew immediately what it was. The common name it gave me was too unpleasant for me to want to pass on, but it is a kind of slime mold. Probably some of my readers are familiar with it.

Nigella under the plum tree.

My zucchini, sunflower, and zinnia seeds have sprouted. And I think the amaranth, too, though the leaves I see are such tiny ones, I can’t be sure yet. It’s nice to be home enough that I can go out several times a day, set the hose nozzle to “shower” and moisten the ground for them. Here’s a little poem in praise of seeds.

Seeds

The seeds I sowed –
For week unseen –
Have pushed up pygmy
Shoots of green;
So frail you’d think
The tiniest stone
Would never let
A glimpse be shown.
But no; a pebble
Near them lies,
At least a cherry-stone
In size,
Which that mere sprout
Has heaved away,
To bask in sunshine,
See the Day.

-Walter de la Mare

Blue-eyed grass can’t hide from me.

my garden, , , , , , , ,

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.

You know I’ll be sure to let you know.