mixed spring greens

The saga of the kitchen garden continues. It remains my favorite garden spot - confined, rustic, and eclectic. I am ignoring the shade, and the moss. As a matter of fact one of my small raised beds has become a moss covered japanese maple bed, right next to the soapstone water fountain. Everything is growing well. Radishes are mingling with roses. Clematis vines are entangling the plum branches, next to the jostaberries. Lettuce, spinach and arugula are rampant and delicious. The plum tree is laden with fruit, unfortunately most of them will drop before maturity due to lack of sunshine.

And today I planted my first potatoes. I was tearing up as I pushed the ugly nodes into their trenches. Potatoes were my later father's favorite crop. He was a master potato grower and each year he had a competition with a dear neighbor to see who could harvest the first sweet white new potatoes. All methods were allowed to secure the win... I miss pappa terribly, and I am thinking that my potato growing efforts would have made him proud.

moss covered

I love moss. I love the intricacy when you examen the plants up close. I love the soft texture and the brilliant hues. It is a lovely plant, much more appealing than grass. The problem is that my moss is most prolific in the kitchen garden, where sun loving vegetables, and cut flowers are supposed to grow. Every bed is covered with moss to some degree. Naturally the problem is a lack of sun, which will cause problems this growing season. Over time our once sun filled garden plot has become more and more shady, mostly from our neighbor's rampant growing trees. So it is time to rethink. More blueberries, and lettuce, less peppers and tomatoes? Suggestions anyone?

purple shades

Just a few samples from the current color explosion in the garden. In bloom – tree peony, euphorbia, and fritillaria. Leafing out – red bud, japanese maple, smokebush, and japanese painted fern. Just lovely.

surprise snow

We woke up to snow this morning. It always seems to happen this time of year, but it still takes you aback The winter sweaters are almost packed away, and I was looking forward to spending my Sunday in the garden. The snow surprised the fruit trees as well. Their delicate blossoms, just starting to open, are covered and wet. I am hoping they are hardy enough to withstand the challenge.

Last weekend I planted two peach trees in the kitchen garden. They will eventually be espaliered, but I wanted to enjoy the pale pink blooms before I trim the branches. I also planted a new apple tree. This time far away from the black walnut tree that lives next door and who's roots spreads a nasty toxin that has crippled my other apple tree in the far corner of the garden. Spring will come. I know it.

buds and blooms

Somehow there is always something happening in the garden  even if I am not there to tend it. Spring is here. Buds are bursting and fresh green growth is peeking out. The rhubarb is growing vigorously, and the daphne and star magnolia are both in full bloom spreading their heavenly scent along the way. I now have a beautiful cold frame, almost a small greenhouse, in the kitchen garden and a wonderful new walkway leading to the front door (more about those two projects later). I am delighted that warmer weather has arrived!

july heat

100 degree days with no rain in sight. It is mighty miserable over here. I try to keep watering to a minimum, but it has to be done to stop things from wilting away. The kitchen garden is playing a waiting game. The tomato plants are happy and robust, but the tomatoes are still green, there are cucumbers on the vine, but still a bit too thin to harvest. Instead I ventured to the market this past weekend. Lots of goodies to be found there and lots of people too. The buy local movement is thriving in my little town.

a cheerful hibiscus among the weeds

I know this guy is a mean plant eater, but you have to marvel over nature

back from the market

june joy

The last few days have been absolutely perfect here in our little town. Temperatures are hovering around 80 F, humidity is low, and the sun is out. The garden is on its best behavior.

This is what happens when you repeatedly complain about not having enough peas.

Rhubarb and raspberry abundance.

A bit of garden whimsy, provided by my mom. We call him Boll, after a Swedish children's story.

Jumble of herbs and vigorous tomato plants = happiness.