BloominThyme

13 Apr 2010 No Comments

Mandie’s in a bind and on a roll!

Okay. Things are good, sort of. Still no dirt and the weeds are sprouting. Maybe not sprouting, more like shooting for the stars. I mean, look at these things! They’re taking over! Aaaaaaaagh!

Of course they are. They’re weeds. That’s what they do. But have no fear. Mandie assures me she’s on dirt patrol. It will be delivered any day now…

Well, I’m not holding my breath on that one but I am looking toward the positive – the other box! Good news — these babies are growing with awesome results.

The lettuce is fanning open, begging to be plucked for a beautiful salad, the tomatoes are blossoming, the broccoli is blooming and the potatoes are growing larger, safe and sound, tucked away in their underground incubator after being properly hilled.

Carrots are sparse. More fertilizer, more water and they’ll be fine. Just give them some time.

Conch peas? They’ve been touch and go and Mandie is concerned for their welfare, certain they won’t make it.

Me, I think they’ll pull through, so long as she keeps an eye on the aphids. Ladybugs, anyone? They’re one cure, but so are insecticidal soap and finger smudging. Either way, keep up the maintenance, Mandie! Once they gain a little more stature and strength they’ll be fine.

More good news? No Chihuahua tracks in the dirt. Very good. They can be lethal to the delicate greens struggling through the sprout stage, not to mention pure terror for those meant for human consumption! Who wants to eat salad stepped on my the pup who’s been who knows where…???

Not me and if Mandie knows what’s good for her — not her, either. But she assures me it won’t be a problem. The boy is on a leash when outdoors. Hmmm. I have kids and I have a dog. I know how habits slip and slide until the next thing you know, the dog is sitting smack square in the middle of the kitchen floor which is off-limits to him! (But he’s so cute, Mom. How can you be mad?)

Hmph. As one who has lost this battle, time will tell if she proves any tougher. Good luck with that girlfriend! Where no dog seems to have made tracks, one of the boys apparently has. Left this Easter bunny plant creation next to the lettuce (in case he gets hungry, I presume).

They’re so smart and creative at this age, aren’t they? And green. Chalk up one more for Mama’s column!

by gardenfrisk in Garden coaching - watch how easy you TOO can have your very own garden! Tags: broccoli, carrots, conch peas, hilling potatoes, home garden, kids, progress, tomatoes, weeds

10 Apr 2010 2 Comments

Strawberries and onions

Strawberries and onions go together like sisters and brothers. Great companions in the garden of life, but quite different from one another on many different levels. My daughter takes to strawberries, my son to onions.

He eats them raw actually, which is odd in itself — until you taste a homegrown onion fresh picked from the garden. It’s nothing like the store bought kind! Sweet and delicate and oh-so-fun-to-pick.

Must be a man thing. My husband loves to slice them alongside his tomatoes with a little salt to boot. Says he could eat them every day this way. Which is a good thing, seeing as how I planted a hundred of these babies! Literally. I planned on braiding them for storage and hanging them for effect. Looking forward to it actually, as I thought it would be kinda fun. At this rate, I doubt I’ll get to try my first weave!

But that’s okay. As long as the crew is eating fresh veggies, I’ll stick to braiding hair.

As to my personal preference, I’m with my daughter on this one. Gorgeous red strawberries hold the allure for me, especially when you can spy them on the vine and pluck to your heart’s desire. Once again, there’s something about growing your own that seems to make them taste sweeter.

Psychological? Could be. But then again, when I’m in the garden it’s all psychological!

And physical.

And emotional (when the mutiny over weeding pokes through the kid’s veneer of joy). But i’t's all fun!

by gardenfrisk in Garden skinny - my personal scoop on gardening Tags: companion planting, fresh, kids, onion, siblings, strawberry

05 Apr 2010 No Comments

Sweet pea love

It’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood when your son is a willing an ardent helper in the garden. Today it’s sweet sugar snap peas — my first endeavor in the pea family after my horrible failure with the English peas. (Still don’t know what went wrong with those gems, but they never blossomed to fruition.) I guess the old saying is true; you can start out with everything going for you — nutrients, nourishment, love and excitement — and still manage to miss the blossom train.

Sad. But true. I haven’t given up on them. Hope renews and we’ll try again! Just not any time soon.

In the meantime, there’s the snap pea. For a while there, I thought they were goners in the major unexpected and unwelcome freeze of January, but I was wrong. These delicate beauties are more hardy than first glance would imply. Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to judge a book by its cover?

Mine did and she was right. These gals made it through and have now begun to produce! Beautiful plump pods bursting with sugary peas you simply have to taste to believe. Which I did, right there in the middle of the row, plopped the first sample straightaway into my mouth. And it was good. I see why they’re called sugar snap peas, because they truly taste like sugar ripened green peas!

My first thought: the kids will LOVE these.

So, it made sense that when my son and I were finishing the final row of weeding I’d introduce him to the sugary sweet delights. “Hey, buddy! Come have a taste of the sugar snaps!”

Somewhat the adventurous type – like myself - he didn’t hesitate. “Do they really taste like sugar?”

“You bet,” I replied, never more sure of anything in my life. “You’ll love them.”

Trusting as any young boy should be when it comes to his mother’s advice, he opened the fresh pod in preparation for his first bite.

“These arent’ like Limas. You don’t have to peel it open, you can eat it whole!” I told him, eager to get his response.

But he would have none of it. This was my boy – a little man! He was going to do it his way or no way. (A sentiment I’ve come to realize is common in most males.) Patiently, I waited as he dipped the first pea into his mouth. Then he frowned, and my heart plummeted. “What’s wrong? You don’t like it?”

“No. Not really.”

“But it tastes like sugar.”

“Mom, kids and adults have different tastes.”

“They do?” I marveled at his mature insight. He is only seven. “How so?”

“You know, like how Daddy likes to have a beer and you like wine. I don’t like either of those, but you do.”

Out of the mouths of babes. Chagrin. “Yes, well, you have me there…”

“It’s okay. I don’t hate them.”

Yahoo — a green with hopes of still making it on the menu. “It’s okay, honey. You don’t have to like them.”

He peeled the pod clear open and asked, “Want to take a picture?”

Is he in charge of marketing, or what? Tucking my pride back into place, I replied, “Sure. But I don’t have my camera with me. Will you run to the house and get it?”

He brightened at the trust in his command and exclaimed, “Yes! Want to see how fast I can make it?”

I laughed. “Of course I do.” Ever the boy!

To his word, he ran as fast as he could to the house and back, plucking a new pod from the vine and posing for pictures.

You gotta love em!

by gardenfrisk in Garden skinny - my personal scoop on gardening Tags: boys, kids in the garden, pod, spring garden, sugar snap peas

30 Mar 2010 No Comments

Time for Action

Here we see our first casualty of a busy woman’s schedule. No dirt. But don’t dismay – with the kids out of school this week, she’ll be filling this baby in no time!

Okay. Empty planter aside, everything is blooming, sprouts are bursting and the bugs are feasting.

Not good. No insecticidal soap at the hardware store and as a dedicated localavore on both food and material levels, Mandie doesn’t want to hit the big warehouse stores, but at this point — she may have to if she’s going to save her peas!

Either that, or coax some ladybugs into her garden. These little beasts are doing her babies NO favors. This conch pea sprout is too young to tolerate this kind of devastation. Once mature, I wouldn’t worry too much. A few aphids can be wiped off the leaves and stem with ease — a very organic system of bug removal! — but not from this delicate creature.

Number two on the action list are the potatoes. Aren’t they grand? Growing beautifully full and robust, they now need “hilling.”

Hilling is the process by which you mound dirt around the plant as it grows, fostering healthy and continued production. Once they reach about 12 inches, hill the soil around them so that only a few inches of the plant remains above the soil.

This growth habit is the reason they do well in “box production” for the smaller square foot gardens. (I believe Yukon Golds, however, set fruit only once and are not conducive to this method of growing.)

Number three. The tomatoes look much better but need some pinching.

This tiny sprout (more commonly known as a sucker) growing at the base of the two larger stems must be ”pinched” off, directing nutrients to the main stem of the plant. Once the entire plant reaches the top of its support apparatus, Mandie will need to prune it back even further, ensuring all the plant’s energy goes toward the developing fruits.

But we have time for that discussion, later. Right now, she’s got to get snipping!

P.S. Mandie has added a new member to the family. A friendly Chihuahua in need of a good home has found one. (Did I mention she’s not only an earth lover, but an animal lover, too?)

Running the edge of insanity, she’s fired up and ready to take on the challenge. Atta girl! Just don’t let him near the garden.

Dogs are cute, but not when trampling through the garden. Soft dirt, delicate sprouts, weeks of backache — bad, bad, BAD combination!

by gardenfrisk in Garden coaching - watch how easy you TOO can have your very own garden! Tags: ants, aphids, hilling potatoes, insecticidal soap, progress, tomato suckers

29 Mar 2010 2 Comments

Pick me! Pick me!

It’s springtime. The season when winter eases its chokehold, the ground softens, making way for new growth. Buds burst open and leaves unfurl, as young flowers mature into their blossoms.

Nestled together in the garden, it’s not long before the inevitable comparisons arise. Each amazing and breathtaking in their own right, they can’t help but wonder how they measure up against the whole.

“Are my petals too plump?

“Do these leaves make my bottom look wide?”

Of course not. You’re beautiful.

“You’re just saying that because you’re my gardener, aren’t you?”

Then it happens. The handsome stranger strolls along and spritzes the crowd with a mist of attention. The bed goes crazy. Everyone brightens, arching further toward the admirer, each hoping to be noticed. “Pick me. Pick me!”

He leans over and plucks you by the stem, taking you home for his own. You’ve been chosen as the most beautiful bloom, a stand out among the crowd, worthy of being taken home for display.

But you despair. You’re alone. You find yourself perched on a pedestal. No longer surrounded by your colorful counterparts, once admired by many, you’re now occupied by one. Passersby gawk and exclaim, but rarely linger. Why would they?

You’re taken. Chosen.

You glance around, and wonder, “What are the others doing?” Are they basking in the sun? Adorned by bees and butterflies? Or swaying to the breeze, wild and free.

Why so sad? Isn’t this what you wanted? Weren’t you feeling cramped, lost among the cluster of your peers? Didn’t you yearn to be deemed most lovely? Most desirable?

Well, sure…in so many words. We all want to be “picked,” cherished as the most beautiful, perfect creation of all. Doesn’t it follow that we should be ecstatic when clipped free from the crowd? Aren’t we supposed to be happy?

Yes and no. If your petals were chosen to express love, then yes. But if they were chosen to be displayed like a trophy…then no. What’s the point?

Odd to compare girls to flowers, I know. But as my daughter grows and blossoms, I can’t help but see the similarities. While toiling away in the garden, weeding and pruning, mulching and fertilizing, I feel a swell of anticipation – it’s spring! The time for renewal and growth, blossoms and beauty –

And my daughter’s birthday. Time passes so quickly, she’s maturing so fast. It seems like only yesterday she was a little girl. But now, she’s heading toward adolescence and the change is remarkable. She’s blossoming toward her teenage years, flowering into womanhood.

And I worry. She’s feeling the pinch of the crowd, the snip of comparison. How do I reassure her of her glorious and unique qualities? Remind her she is an extraordinary, oxygen-breathing, life-creating creature to behold? An integral piece in the cycle of life?

I want to tell her: rejoice in your color and shape. Embrace the length of your stems, the breadth of your petals. While they may differ from others, they all work the same. Ultimately, our physical parts all perform the same tasks.

Yes, indulge in the sunshine, reach for the sky, bask in the attention of your admirers — but be wary the gardener interested in clipping your beauty for his own. If your blooms must be taken, aim for love. A rose shared between hearts lasts a lifetime. Cuttings die within days.

Consider instead, the bees. They’re willing to work hard for your nectar! And rather than selfish, their goal is worthy; seeking the highest and best good. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with the gardener willing to spritz you with attention, just keep in mind some spritzers carry toxic substances. At first glance, they appear harmless, but upon closer inspection, the poison is revealed. But then again, my sweet, you were so focused on being noticed…

Please. Take your time. Allow nature to take its course. You’ll be happier in the end.

by gardenfrisk in Savory vignettes - tidbits of life discovered along the way Tags: beauty, bees, blossom, girls, love, spring

25 Mar 2010 2 Comments

Birds, bees, and blueberries

We learn by doing. It’s an age old saying for a reason. Sure, we read books, study the almanac, listen to the experts. All wonderful and recommended arenas for the novice gardener – let alone beginner – but sometimes, there’s simply no substitute for experience. The tried and true kind.

Take my blueberry patch. My pride and joy, my special morning ritual (well, once it’s established I plan to make it a morning ritual - plucking fresh blueberries for my yogurt and bran flakes…strolling amidst the chirps and peeps). Well, you understand. You work hard for these sweet, luscious, high in anti-oxidant fruits and you don’t want to lose them to the natural elements. Wind, pests, birds.

Birds are a definite problem when it comes to berries. They too enjoy a plump serving of berries with their breakfast! But they’re hungry varmints and will eat you out of house and home – house and garden – if you let them. But me, I count myself as smarter than the average bear (no pun intended to my other native blueberry fan). I figure I can outwit these flying friends with a simple bird net. Says so right on the package. Bird nest for fruit and shrubs.

Wonderful. Problem solved. All I have to do is cover my plants — all twelve of them — and I’m off and running in the blueberry race. Woohoo!

First recommendation: don’t choose a windy day to start your net project. Blueberry blossoms are extremely sensitive to the slightest tactile cling and snare easily. Translated: touch them and they pop off the vine. Bad. Very bad. No blossoms means no berries.

With a little practice, though, I became quite good at throwing and securing my net without touching my delicate blueberry blossoms and only lost a few to the endeavor. Can you really miss what you never had to start? If you’ve noticed, philosophy seems to be on overdrive in my garden.

But abstract distractions aside, I finished my task an hour later, rising with a nice long yoga stretch to the back before I secured my last stake in the ground. Second recommendation: don’t attempt this after several hours of weeding and tilling in the garden. Problem is, I’m more doer than planner. Oh look, I still have two hours before I need to pick up the kids! What else can I slip in before my time runs out?

That’s when I heard it.

Bzzzzzz. Bzzzzzzz.

I looked up and honed in on my little bee friend. Okay, it was one of my BIG bee friends, but nonetheless, a bee friend. There he was, patiently, persistently, hovering about the outside of my netting.

Realization trickled down through my tired, aching limbs. He’s outside the netting. Outside my netting!

In addition to my Rabbit Eyes, I planted High Bush blueberry varieties. They need cross pollination. By bees.

Aaaaargh! Not only had I effectively kept the birds out, I was keeping my bee friends out, too! Bad, bad, bad. If you want your blossoms to grow and provide — which I do — you need bees.

Now I was in a bind. What to do? Leave my hard work in place, or tear it down so the bees can enter safely and do their business? Since I’m no expert, this was a tough call, because I don’t know when the plants actually need pollination. Do they bloom after pollination and blossom into blueberries? Or do they need pollination between bloom and blueberry? How the heck do I know? I’m just a berry enthusiast trying my hand at a blueberry patch! I have no idea how Mother Nature runs these things.

After two minutes of hair pulling, you know I pulled the netting down. No way around it. It made more sense that when there are flowers present – and I have tons of flowers present — they need bees. Bees work the flowers!

Later that night, I shared the events with my husband who promptly replied, “The bees will get through.”

“No,” I stated, calm and matter-of-fact. I was calm by now, having had several hours to absorb the incident. “The netting holes are this big,” I made a circle with my thumb and forefinger to simulate the size less than a dime. “The bees are this big.” A centimeter larger, and granted, undetectable with my fingers, but my point was clear. Too close to call. A bee may try it, but he would most likely be snagged. Wings. They’d throw him over the threshold of size “allowability.”

Determined as any man would be, my husband remained convinced there was a way to beat the problem. Sure enough, next day, the birds were swooping on my plants, sending my heart racing. Eyeing my poles already in place, I was determined to win this one. No wind, it was much easier to assemble my netting “cage” and took ten minutes. Satisfied it would work, I went to the garden.

Tormented by thoughts of harming the bees, I thought maybe the answer was mobile netting. I could put up and take down the netting on a daily basis, according to the bird’s feeding schedule. “Do they have a feeding schedule?” Mine seem to eat all day long!

Trekking back to the house from the garden, collecting my kitchen compost bin along the way, I heard it.

Yep, you guessed it. My bee friend was back! I swung my head around hoping to catch sight of him and sure enough, there he was, hovering about a blueberry plant.

Inside the netting. I rushed over for a closer look, wondering how exactly he managed entry. Pleasure poured through me. There, where my two nets overlap, was at least a foot of space. Perfect. Bees could easily maneuver this section while birds could not. They wouldn’t even attempt to sail through for fear they would be unable to escape, and thus be trapped. (Birds don’t hover as well as bees. They need some distance for landing and take-off.)

Heaving a sigh of relief, I headed into the house. Problem solved.

And not a moment too soon. My blueberries are nearing maturity!

Look at these beauties. They’re still green, but big and round and about to turn blue.

by gardenfrisk in Garden skinny - my personal scoop on gardening Tags: bees, birds, blueberries, cross pollination, Florida, High bush, netting, variety

24 Mar 2010 2 Comments

Panic

“Hey,” came the insistent voice over the phone line. “We’ve got bugs.”

Recognizing her voice and the panic within I replied, “What kind of bugs?”

This is, after all, is my job. Mandie has a problem in the garden, it’s my job to respond. Remember: Master is a term to which I want to become accustomed. (Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it? Besides, no one else is calling me master. Might as well be the master of the garden, right?)

“It’s a black bug with six white legs.”

“Number one, you’re too close to the thing. Step away from the bug.” I mean, really. Who can see eight tiny legs well enough to know they’re white, if you’re not nose deep in the beast? When I looked, they didn’t look that bad to me.

What is it?” she persisted. “It’s destroying my conch peas.”

“It’s a bug. Doesn’t matter what kind.” Logic; from one who doesn’t deal in species specific pest invasion. “Use your insecticidal soap.”

She muttered intelligibly.

“You got the insecticidal soap I told you about, right?”

“Gary,” she turned from the mouthpiece. “Did you buy the insecticidal soap?”

A blither of replies goes back and forth before it becomes apparent he did not. “Okay,” she said back to me. “We’ll get the soap. But what do I do in the meantime? The bugs are devouring my peas!”

“Use the soap,” I replied calmly. “If the bugs persist, you may want to spray them again and then cover your peas with cheese cloth. Do you know what that is?”

“Cheese cloth? Sure. I have some.”

“Okay, watch for bugs. If it looks like you have a major infestation, spray again and cover your peas – over your trellis cage – with cheese cloth.” Common screen material will do. Anything with very small openings to prevent the bugs from flying through, yet still allowing sunlight to permeate.

Next crisis. “And I wanted to mention, your tomatoes look weak. Have you been fertilizing them?”

“Sure, but it’s the cold.”

“True, the cold will stress them. Did you get the fish emulsion?”

A flurry of doubt flitted through her tone as she replied, “Yeah, we fertilized them. You think they need more?”

“Yes. And water.” Now that our steady rain had ceased, I wanted to be sure she was doing the job. “Have you been watering?”

“Oh, yes. Gary’s been watering.” She called out over her shoulder again, “Right, babe? You’ve been watering the plants?”

Apparently playing with the boys in the background, all of them boisterous and romping about, he replied, “Watering? Yes. I watered the plants.”

“Deeply?” I interjected. They’d rather be watered deeply every other day than a light splatter with the hose each and every day.

Mandie repeated my concern, to which Gary seemed hesitant. Frustration welled. “Babe, you have to water them deeply, every other day.”

Boy, she sounded like an expert. Atta girl!

“And we have ants,” she informed me. “What do we do about the ants?”

Panic again. “No problem. Go to your local hardware and look for the garden safe ant killer. It’s a white powder you sprinkle around the trouble spots.”

“Is that the diatomaceous earth?”

Kudos, again. “Well, yes, that is a garden safe material, I don’t know if it’s the same material as I didn’t check the label ingredients. I have used diatomaceous earth before, but I don’t think my results was that great.”

“Okay.” Relieved, she sounded ready to tackle any obstacle coming her way.

Good, I thought privately. Because there will be more to come. But in the meantime, let’s celebrate our progress. I mean, c’mon. Look at these gorgeous potatoes!

by gardenfrisk in Garden coaching - watch how easy you TOO can have your very own garden! Tags: bugs, conch peas, garden, insecticidal soap, progress, yukon gold

20 Mar 2010 No Comments

Learn something new everyday

Gardening with kids can be enlightening. Fun, entertaining, eye-opening.

The key to successful garden management is to do a little bit everyday. More specifically, working in small batches is the key to keeping the kids on top of their garden chores. Let’s face it, some tasks aren’t fun. They’re simply necessary. Take weeding, for example. The kids don’t enjoy it. It’s not their favorite part of gardening. It’s just another job that must be done. So what do we do to distract ourselves from the tedium?

We tell stories! We take turns and create them as we work down our prospective beds, alleviating some of the boredom. It’s actually quite fun when you here how your children’s minds work. My daughter’s stories tend to focus on girls; their likes and dislikes, their squabbles and resolutions. My son on the other hand, veers toward the action-adventure. Go figure.

So it makes sense when he comments on the bees buzzing nearby his row that he would compare them to an action-adventure movie, right?

“Hey, Mom.” He pointed to the enormous bee hovering about the broccoli florets now bursting with bloom. “Do you know what that is?”

“No,” I played along.

“It’s a drone bee.”

The boy’s an avid fan of Star Wars and sees everything in terms of warriors and epic struggles. Why not bees? “Really?”

“Yep,” he stated matter-of-fact, as he states most things. Boys, I’ve learned, like to have a handle on the facts. “He’s the defender.”

I suppressed a smile. As his mother, I’m a firm advocate for his imagination and encourage him to go on. “Wow. I didn’t know they had defender bees.”

He promptly left his row to come over and explain. “He’s not a worker bee. His job is to protect the queen bee.”

“What about the other two.” They were much smaller than the larger one under discussion. “Are they worker bees?”

Walking back for closer inspection, he nodded and pointed. “See how they fly into the flower? They’re collecting pollen so they can spread it around. I remember this from primary. That was a year ago and I still remember it!”

“See,” I told him. “That means you learned the information. That’s great!”

Proudly, he strolled back to me and expounded upon his drone bees, the queen, and all the workers, then decided he wanted to take their picture, which I offered to do for him. “Let me do it, honey. So you don’t get stung.” My camera is NOT a toy and well-intentioned as he may be, is off limits to the lad!

That evening, I relayed the story to my husband. “It was so cute. He called it a drone bee, like Star Wars.” I shook my head. “I think I’m going to comment on it on my blog.”

My husband turned to me. “You might want to check your facts, first. I think there is something called a drone bee.”

“There is?”

He nodded. “I believe so.”

I glanced away and laughed. “And to think I thought it was one of his stories.”

Hmph. Apparently, one of us learned their botany lesson better than the other! Sure enough, I went online to check my facts and there it was — drone bees. While not the defenders of the queen but her fertilizers, I was duly impressed — for real, this time. The kid knows his stuff!

Yet another reason I enjoy gardening with the kids. Not only do I enjoy listening to their creativity, I learn things along the way. Bonding, 101. Our visitor may actually be a carpenter bee, as he was diligently working the pollen, which from my understanding, drone bees take no part in. But this fellow is definitely a worker bee.

On another note, the kids noticed some interesting developments in the garden. “Hey, look at this!”

I gazed down at the sprout and wondered, How did that get there? It’s definitely not a bean. Zucchini, squash…cucumber? I wracked my brain to remember which vegetables we recently threw in the compost pile that could have produced this little guy. At the rate we eat vegetables, it could be any one of them!

Hmmm… Either way, it needs to be moved. I run a tight garden and my rows are not only evenly spaced, but organized according to family and flavor, and staked out to differentiate between planting dates! This way I can track how long each plant actually takes from seed to harvest. I know the information can be found on seed packets and planting sheets, but I’ve come to learn those are “guidelines” at best, as my real life experience has often proven otherwise.

With the busy garden season at hand, I can’t wait to see what’s in store for us tomorrow!

Gardening — share the adventure with a child.

by gardenfrisk in Savory vignettes - tidbits of life discovered along the way Tags: bees, broccoli, kids, learning experience, weeding

15 Mar 2010 No Comments

Progress

Number two! (Way to hide the eyesore — ten points for design brilliance!)

Gary and Mandie have built box number two, a BIG accomplishment. And once the dirt is delivered, they will be in big business – the melon kind. And if you know anything about melons, you KNOW they need space and lots of it. But if you’re short on space, what do you do?

You improvise. You get creative. You think outside the box!

In Mandie’s case, we plan to grow the plant in the box while allowing the melon to grow outside of the box. Crazy?

Crazy ingenuity! Besides, with her limited space, it’s the only way it will work. These fruits need room to stretch out and with a suggested row spacing of nearly five feet — which she doesn’t have — there’d be no watermelon for the boys this summer.

Frown. Who’s willing to deliver that bad news?

Not me. Not Mandie. And need I remind you who built the planter box? There’ll be no bad news in this back yard, no sir!

But in the meantime, we see the potatoes are coming along nicely.

As well as the lovely conch peas in their trellis ”cage.”

Not the MOST exciting time in the garden with progress confined to sprouts and growth spurts and building boxes in preparation for more exciting times, but look on the bright side — not enough time has passed for the weed invasion, right?

Remember: there’s always a bright side.

by gardenfrisk in Garden coaching - watch how easy you TOO can have your very own garden! Tags: conch peas, planter box, potatoes, progress, sprouts

13 Mar 2010 3 Comments

Transplant a rose garden?

Who in their right mind would do such a thing?

Me. I changed my mind. We added a screened enclosure. Life happens. My roses were too close to the wire mesh and my herbs were too far away from the kitchen. Okay, I enjoy the walk out to the garden. That’s not it. Truth is, they didn’t work well with my rotation schedule AND while I’m cooking dinner and feel the urge for some fresh herbs, it’s easier when they’re located right around the corner.

Makes sense, doesn’t it? In theory, yes. In practice…

Well, that’s another beast entirely and I do mean beast. And to think I blamed my stiffness on old age – it has nothing do with old age – it’s senility! Mine!

What was I thinking? Oh, let’s see. Today I’ll transplant my three vigorous and thriving rose bushes which have been there for years. Then, I’ll relocate and plant seed for a new herb garden in their place. Tomorrow, I’ll plant a blueberry patch. All this, after five hours spent spring tilling and planting in the garden the day before.

Counterclockwise from the bottom: aloe, basil, space for cilantro, oregano, space for parsley, rosemary, potted peppers, sweet potato slips inside screen, dill, curly parsley, lavender

Nut job. I heard you. Insane.

You’re right. I’m all of those and while you’re at it, add energetic, ambitious, a gal with eyes bigger than her yard AND her ability. Yep. That’s me. But I have to say, now that it’s all behind me, and I survived, I can say, it was all worth it.

Eventually, my yard will be exactly as I want, all the pain and agony a distant memory as I gaze out the window with satisfaction. Need I remind you of childbirth?

This afternoon, my daughter and I went in search of something cute for our brand new herb garden. We didn’t find anything. But it was fun looking!

It’s nice to have something to look forward to with hope and anticipation, isn’t it? It feels fresh and fun and exhilarating. I hope all my seeds take to sprout. We won’t know for at least a week or two. I can’t wait to stroll knee deep among the herbs, full and lush, nestled together, their savory scents competing as I decide on which to include for dinner.

Speaking of herbs, did I mention the hardy rosemary plant? Easy to grow, easy to harvest and very distinct in character. One of our favorites this time of year, is rosemary lemonade. It’s an easy mix with outstanding results. (Check my recipe page for details.)

Hmmm. Closing my eyes, I can see it all. Then, come April, my berry patch will command my attention with their plump, juicy little bodies of blue glistening in the morning dew. The perfect compliment to my breakfast yogurt. I love spring…