What would William think?

Have nothing in your house that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful. 

 ~William Morris (1834-1896), British craftsman, designer, socialist, poet

Who can argue with Mr. Morris about his rules for the contents of one's house?  Of course, one might quibble over the nuances of "useful".  It would be a good rule to apply to the garden as well, and I think we all strive for it.  The difficulty, though, is the degree of control we have over living things as opposed to, say, dishes and carpets and shampoo bottles.



In the space bordered by greenhouse, alley, south neighbour, and the big box of potatoes we have a random assortment of unattractive items.  Garbage bags filled with leaves and grass clippings.  Pails.  The shredder, covered with an old topsoil bag.  Sticks and stalks accumulating until it is worth my time to drag an extension cord out to the shredder.  Paving stones.  A heap of soil, sods, and clay that had now where else to go.  Cinder blocks that used to border two garden beds, packed with clay and grasses.  Gravel.  Weeds.  None of these are beautiful.  Nor are they very useful at any given moment.  Paving stones keep the muck off my shoes when the ground is wet, which hasn't happened lately.  Some of the material is compost of the future.  The shredder is helpful for several hours a year.The cinder blocks have potential use as a wall.  I console myself with such reminders when moving through this area.  I am also mindful that this is what people see when they stroll down the alley and look past the chain link fence.  Not the lush, tall vegetable garden, but this, and the loose tar paper flapping around the windows at the east end of the green house.  I have no need to impress the neighbours with my landscape design; I would just like to make their journey more pleasurable.  It's tempting to post a note on the fence, explaining the need to sacrifice beauty for utility by times, even though I don't quite believe that to be true.

the wasteland

compost bins

The composter is an exception here.  Its continuing role in converting kitchen and yard waste into soil is always useful.  I believe the symmetry and aged wood are beautiful.  I am fortunate to have a talented and hardworking partner; I would never have built this myself.

A nest built by paper wasps is a beautiful thing.  Not breathtaking, maybe not something you would take time to create for yourself, but so interesting in its shape and blend of colours that results from the collective work of a team with no central direction and a different sort of vision from what I can comprehend.  What do they care about the exterior appearance of it, anyway?  Is it useful?  Useful to the wasps that built it, for sure.  Useful to us only if those wasps kill critters that harm our plants.  It also has negative utility, though.  This morning I suddenly decided to cut back some of the cedar boughs that every year shrink the view out our front window.  Then I realized, hey, there is a nest of wasps four feet from my head, and several are milling around the opening.  They did not seem to notice me or care if I was there, but I ceased my pruning anyway.  There is a big weird-looking gouge in one of the trees now.  The nest is also a few feet from the front door, which could be a problem if and when the wasps do become aggressive.  While I prefer not to be visited by those who want to share the Good News with me, I also don't wish those people to be stung.  Nor the mail carrier.  The beauty of the nest does not balance the pain of wasp venom.

snow peas drying up

Peas are wonderful. They start early and can be harvested over a long period of time. They are not at their best in hot weather, but keep watering them and they will stay alive to produce again under more favourable conditions. It's easy to give up on them, though, because they play dead. Right down to the ground they will go brown and crispy and the caregiver might think there is no way that dead dry stalk can deliver water to the little green bit at the tip. But it does. Even though I know it, I still cut down most of my front yard peas yesterday because they looked so bad. (I am not entirely without hope that they will regrow fresh and green from what I left in the ground.) In the private back garden, I endure the frayed and spotty brown parts, in spite of how badly they contrast with the deep greens around them.  They are still useful for conducting water.  They also serve as a reminder that even though the garden just got going (it seems), it's not too soon to think about the clean up phase.

squash ladder

Left to their own devices, the winter squash vines would have by now tunneled through two tomato beds, crossed the lawn, and ascended the neighbours' six foot fence.  With human intervention, they are instead heaped upon a repurposed wooden ladder.  The vines still attempt to wander.  Three are currently trying to reach across a path to the coriander.  Once the vine is long enough, it is easily looped back onto the ladder and finds something to grab onto within the day.  This way, we are not tripping over vines across pathways and we don't have to go hunting for squashes at harvest time.    The whole structure - ladder and squash plants - happens to be beautiful as well.  Furthermore, if we place our happy hour lawn chairs  by the bee balm, the squash highrise blocks our view of deteriorating pea vines.

scarlet runners all grown up

Not long ago I griped about the slowness of the Scarlet Runner pole bean, how blossom after blossom fell off and left nothing behind on the stem.  Last week I looked at the great towers of intertwined bines, deep green leaves and scarlet flowers and realized that this is one of the most beautiful plants growing in our yard.  Bee balm and four o'clock flowers take up space in the garden and aren't expected to provide us with edibles.  Should I really ask more of this species?  There are a few beans now, small with great potential.  They grow so large that three or four must surely constitute an official serving of vegetables.  Given the beauty of the leaves and flowers, the edible pods are a bonus.  Or, given the delicious pods we eventually eat, the visual appeal is a bonus.  I must remember this in October while chopping up a hundred or so meters of bean bines for compost.

rhubarb fixer-upper

Before Costata romanesca, there was another backyard monster known simply as Rhubarb.  It held a choice position in the sunny southeast corner of the big garden and received the overflow from the carport roof when the water tank was full or the torrent was too fast for the intake.  Rhubarb was a vigorous sprawl of shiny deep green leaves on thick stalks.  I tried to give it some distance when planting other things, but it never seemed to be enough.  Whatever I picked of it last year, most went into the freezer and has not been seen since.  Not useful to us.  Hence, Rhubarb was moved to the boulevard where its grand leaves would delight passersby and its tart stalks could be enjoyed by neighbors with alternative taste buds.  Alas, the move was not a good one for Rhubarb.  Losing a good chunk of its root system (if you have ever moved a rhubarb plant, you'll know the choice is between renting an excavator and breaking the roots) could not have been good for it.  The water supply has been far inferior, and it is in a much windier spot now.  Who knows what the previous tenants of that bed, sunchokes, did to the soil.  The leaves are small, dull green, and get rather chewed up in the course of their short lives.  First I determined that Rhubarb was not useful, then I relieved it of its beauty.  It must go.  I hope I can find a good home for it.


What would William Morris think of all this?  One look inside our house and he would know there is little hope for the garden.  But if not for his sage advice, it would be even worse.  I will not give up.

Three's a crowd

Interesting feature of Hope Seeds seed packages: the are printed with a description of the intended outcome ("nutty flavour", "green ribbed skin"), especially in regards to the edible parts, but no instruction regarding what to do with the contents of the package in pursuit of achieving that outcome.  Most seed companies will tell you at least when to sow, how deeply, how far apart.  Hope Seeds assumes its customers are experienced gardeners, or at least interested enough to have read up on the basic requirements of infant vegetables.  Here are some quality seeds; go for it, they effectively say.  With a few years of gardening experience and a working knowledge of The Vegetable Gardener's Bible, I can cope with this, generally.  I could have used more guidance with the zucchini seeds.  Or I might have kept better records last year, the first time I raised Costata romanesca.

Costata romanesca zucchini - a nice little summer squash

zucchini encroaching on ground cherry

Barry made this raised bed out of 18-inch square paving stones, two wide and five long, so about 7.5 x 3 ft. I thought I would put five zucchini plants in it.  Remember how good those Costatas were last year?, we said.  The VGB gives 18 inches as the spacing for summer squash plants; theoretically, we could have had ten here.  As I mentioned a few weeks ago, only three survived to be transplanted.  This was fortunate.  It took a bit of work on Google's part, but this morning I finally found a site that advised 4 feet between plants of this variety.  So the capacity of this bed is more like.....two, and that allows for a fair bit of touching.  This ground cherry was planted more than 3 feet away from the zucchini that is now muscling in on its territory.  When I thought the zucchini must be as big as it was going to get, I poked a few onions sets into the soil and scattered some carrot seeds in the gap that remained at the end of the bed.  I hope onions like shade.

ground cherry benefits
 from outside assistance

At the other end of the bed is another ground cherry, which is not visible in the top photo due to the massive zucchini leaves that cover it from all directions.  I admit to not leaving enough room between it and the nearest zucchinis, only 1.5 or 2 feet.  The ground cherry should grow to be about 3 feet high.  I pictured it towering above the lowly zucchini leaves that would settle down on either side of it, completely forgetting that these leaves fan out from the ends of tall stalks and would have no trouble getting between a ground cherry plant and the sun.  The fencing worked for a while.  I even beefed it up a bit yesterday with some slightly larger fencing.  Look at all that sunlight on its leaves.  But see also how very small it is next to its rival.  This was poor planning.  I feel the aggression, too.  The stalks are stubborn when I try to push them out of the way, and are covered with sharp spikes.  Any day now those east side leaves are going to tear right through the row cover on the adjacent bed.  The seed package should mention that Costata romanesca does not play well with others.

fruitful vegetable

We harvested three fruits today, almost 3 kg in total, and consumed less than half of one for supper.  More are on the way.  Friends, neighbours, colleagues, have I got a tasty treat for you.  No, really, it's better than the usual zucchini that everyone else tries to unload on you.  Why do we have even three plants?  Next year, two maximum.  In the meantime, we have discussed donning falconer's  gloves and removing the odd leaf that is causing a problem.  We do understand that it will take out a good 200-300 square inches of photosynthetic surface per leaf.  We're just not all that worried about maintaining current productivity levels.

Time now for "What's Goin' On"

The post title is amusing only to those who received cable tv channels from Maine in the 70's and 80's.  If you are hoping to read about upcoming events at the Bangor Mall, you are going to be sorely disappointed here.

It's just over a month since my hasty post about what was going down (and coming up) in the garden, so here is an update.

Tomatoes were all transplanted by the first weekend of June and all except one have survived the onslaught of flea beetles.  Another one, planted upside-down, appears to have succumbed to a broken stem suffered during high winds.  All others are looking sturdy.  They always look terribly weak and vulnerable after transplant and toughen up incredibly fast.  They have already had their first axil pruning.  Peppers, melons, cucumber and basil are all in containers.  I've put one container of watermelons, one of peppers, one tomato in the greenhouse to see how they like it there in the summer.  All potatoes successfully sprouted and have blossoms already.

defiant tomato

potato bed june 24

costata romanesca
 june 9

Only three zucchini plants made it to transplant and they are now hanging over the sides of their bed.  (The grim hue of the early photo is a result of me forgetting I'd been playing with the white balance on my new camera.)  I'd better remember to measure the full grown diameter this year; one plant has already shaded the ground cherry I thought was a reasonable distance away from it.  Fencing and a guard iguana have been installed to protect the ground cherry.

costata romanesca june 28

red kuri getting a grip

Four winter squash plants made it to transplant: one Uncle Dave's Dakota Dessert and three Red Kuri.  We got one large and excellent Red Kuri gourd last year and would like to have more.  Uncle Dave's is there for back up.  The squash ladder worked out okay in 2011, but had to be moved for the sake of crop rotation.  Squash are in the "heavy feeder" group.  In moving the ladder, I also turned it, for some reason I don't recall, and the plants were place on the south side of the mesh they are meant to climb.  Of course they all tried to vine south, away from the mesh.  I applied some encouragement yesterday and hope they soon get a better grasp of what they are supposed to do.

beets and chard undercover

Beets and Swiss chard are lush and almost blemish free in their covered bed.  It's not a tight seal, but enough to drastically reduce access for leaf miners.  It has been years since we have been able to just rinse and slice the Swiss chard without first tearing away the scabby bits.  With the row cover protecting it from heavy rain and pests, we barely need to rinse it before eating.  Downside, the bed would look more beautiful without the cover (but only until the leaf miners found it).  The section with beets (foreground) has grown especially bulgy. I might have to start eating around the edges.

To be continued......

A change in the weather

It's the final day of August, a day which happens to be cool, wet and dark, as if summer disappeared literally overnight.  It didn't - warmth and sunshine will be back in a couple of days - but it feels that way.  It would be a good reminder, if I hadn't started thinking along these lines a week ago, that wrap-up time is approaching for much of the annual vegetable garden.  Don't want to leave it all to be done on a couple of blustery October weekends.

The pea vines are mostly brown, yet they still carry living green branches that bear pods and peas.  They aren't as sweet and tender and perfectly shaped as they were in July, but quite edible.  The same goes for beans, especially the rattlesnake pole beans.  After two or three good weeks they seem to go from immature to overdone without passing through an appropriate stage for picking.  So we put up with beans that are a little bulgier than we prefer.  I picked off a couple of shriveled pods from these sad Schweiserreisen plants.  If the seeds germinate, I can pick the rest and put this mess to rest.

Summer squash - zucchini and papaya pear - continue to bear perfect fruit even as their leaves are going yellow (and being perforated by slugs).  It's time to tie a "do not pick" ribbon around a few specimens to ensure we have some seeds for next year.  We grow less enthusiastic about giving away our surplus.  The stem on at least one winter squash has changed colour, which probably indicates that it's done. I could put it away and get the vine chopped up now rather than later.

Onion tops fell over long ago, but as long as they are green I keep hoping the bulbs will continue to grow.  Our onions never get as big as the set package promises.  Leaving them in the ground doesn't seem to hurt them, provided they aren't been set upon by pests.  We have found edible-looking onion bulbs while turning over the garden in the spring.  Garlic tops, conversely, are standing erect and are totally devoid of green.  The whole bed will be dug up when ground dries up a bit.  Some will be replanted, but in a different location.

Great seed-bearing versions of otherwise short plants have arisen and been felled.  Garden cress, pak choy, parsnip and lettuce seeds were collected last weekend.  Radishes are still in the works, if they survive the late summer onslaught of flea beetles.  Some of the Simpson lettuce seeds have been sown with hope that there is still time to grow leaves of a useful size.


Tomatoes are finally ripening - Tigerella, quickly followed by Tribe's Tobique, with San Marzano just starting and Longkeeper stubbornly staying green.  It's no wonder it keeps the longest if it's the last to ripen.  Not a hint of blossom end rot this year.  Is it the frequent watering, the straw mulch, the compost tea, the varieties? Controlled experiments take too long.  We just have to keep doing all of the above.

Potato plants are a bit yellow, a bit holey (slugs again) and very much in the way, having overgrown all pathways adjacent to their bed.  Barry dug up one end of the bed on Sunday, so we can more easily get from one side of the large garden to the other and we now have a large bag of potatoes for eating in the near future.  The tubers seem to keep better in the ground than in the basement, so we'll hold off further excavation for a while yet.  Besides, they might still be growing.

Carrots still have lush green tops and if we're really lucky, chunky little 3-inch roots.  The entire harvest is apt to fit in a bread bag.  We have eaten a few and found they have genuine carrot flavour.  If only they would be a bit more tender (and longer!).  They can be harvested and stored in the fridge as soon as the zucchini and beans clear out of there.  Or, they can stay in the ground until I lose my patience with them for growing so slowly.  (I like the idea of the Slow Food movement, but can't claim to be a disciple.)  Carrots sown under the rattlesnake beans have no doubt died of darkness; those among the white beans live, even if their roots are not substantial.  Since they are near the edge of the garden, they are probably the best candidates to be next year's seed carrots.

The largest of the beets have been picked, a few of them pickled.  It would be nice if the little ones left behind take advantage of the space they have to grow now.  Not entirely counting on it, but it would be nice. So many of the tops have been ravaged by leaf miners, I no longer even bother trying to save the good leaves for eating.  Swiss chard is marginally better in that respect; otherwise I would pull it all now.  Hoping that leaf miners die in the fall while beets and Swiss chard keep going.  Full of wishful thinking.

(Almost) everything else, in brief:
Pears are few and small, but acceptable quality
Raspberries are picking up speed
Red bee balm looks tired but could still attract a hummingbird this week
Grapes are hanging on and ripening, despite massive defoliation by leaf hoppers
Peppers, both sweet and hot, are growing green and shiny
Watermelons haven't grown in weeks (the softball-sized one we ate was very nice, though)
Two parsnip plantings are thriving, two not so good
The dominant hue of the red clover flowers is now brown
Basil has been regrowing nicely following severe cutbacks
We have some ugly little cauliflowers.  I might have to double-dog-dare Barry to eat one.

Summer has three weeks to go, officially.  However, September 1 is like New Year's Day for me.  Back to running, back to Toastmasters and clogging, on to music lessons and longer hours at the office.  Gardening season has to wind down, regardless of the weather.

Progress notes

Today I removed from the garden:

Raspberries - still only a dozen or two per day and still extracted with care due to the bees avidly pollinating our future berries.
Pod peas and shell peas - just a handful all together, but I'm pleased they are still producing at all after a long spell of very warm weather
Scarlet runner beans - four or five only, and they are hard to spot
Rattlesnake beans - a big handful of the most delicious pole beans we've ever tried
Papaya pear squash - two perfect shiny yellow pears that went into the fridge; we ate the previous fridge ones for supper today
Zucchini - four good ones and one dark bulbous specimen that was in an awkward spot to reach.  Gave one to the neighbour.  Glad someone posted on Facebook a link to 100 ways with zucchini (if only I could find it again!)
Garlic - one bulb, because we were down to two cloves.  Digging damaged one of the cloves, so it went into the wok with the squash.
Basil - enough to add flavour to the squash, though most of it should have been picked because it's trying to flower
Spanish onions - five that weren't really ready.  These were dug up a week ago and were hanging out to dry
Swiss chard - enough for supper.  A good deep green vegetable to help me grow some new blood cells.  I'm not crazy about it on it's own - butter and red wine vinegar are a big help.

Not today, but yesterday and Wednesday, we harvested two little red tomatoes, a Tiny Tim and a Tigerella.

These are happy times.

Food stuff

Tonight's supper was combined home-grown zucchini, Swiss chard and shell peas with fish and chips from the freezer aisle.  (We don't have a fish pond and our potatoes aren't ready yet.)  The zucchini was our first Costata Romanesca, a variety reputed to be tastier than the basic smooth dark green zucchini we have grown the last few years.  It was good, but I couldn't tell that it was really different from the others.  It was a bit pale, though.  The recommended size is 10-15 inches and we took it at ten.  Maybe we'll let the next one grow bigger.  There were also a couple of little deformed individuals, darker than this nice specimen and looking a bit like long balloons only half blown up.

This wasn't our first summer squash of the season, though.  On Tuesday I took a chance on a few papaya pear squashes, uncertain if they were the right size and shape, and sliced them up for the barbecue.  Completely lacking any culinary intuition, I seasoned them with thyme and sage only because it was available at the other end of the same garden bed.  They were tasty and beautiful.  Now we have a couple that have grown bigger, so we can find out if that's better.




After supper we had a small quantity of berries to enjoy.  Strawberries have been available for about two weeks now, raspberries for a couple of days.  It's not a huge amount, but a huge treat to slowly savour a small handful of these intensely flavoured fruits every evening.

Everything is growing so fast, the once-a-month photo is not enough.  The standard shot from the upstairs window was taken in the morning sun.  The camera instruction book might give me a hint for how to deal with the reflected sunlight, if I ever bother to read it.

State of the garden - Canada Day weekend

The garden has erupted.  Snow peas have overshot their support systems.  Potatoes have obscured their serpentine bed.  Scarlet runner beans are starting to bine.  Garlic scapes are on their second revolution.   Bok choy, garden cress, and the first radishes have already bolted and gone into seed production. Both honeyberry bushes have peaked.  A few strawberries have ripened.  Spinach and Swiss chard are raising the roof on the raised bed.  Asparagus ferns are taller than me.  Squash vines are on the move.  Summer is short.    Everyone is in a big hurry.

Straw mulch 

Straw path

Two weeks ago Barry bought two straw bales at a farm east of Granum.  It was shortly after the permaculture consultant had kindly offered some of her extra straw, but she had run off to Vancouver Island to build an earthship, so it was good that Barry happened to pass this farm.  We left the bales on the front lawn that night, giving the mice (if any) a chance to escape into the street instead of into the garage.  Over the next two or three days I removed all the paving stones and boards and slimy leaves that had comprised the garden paths previously and threw down armloads of straw, some clean and yellow, some brown and musty.  The entire two bales could easily have gone into the pathways, but I thought the marginal utility would be greater if I reserved some for mulching.  Potatoes, strawberries, squashes, cauliflowers, garlic and onions were the lucky beneficiaries.  It's likely that the straw is reducing (though not eliminating) weed growth and it should be retarding soil surface evaporation (it's impossible to say whether it cuts down on how much watering I have to do).  After a week of dry heat, I like the aesthetics of it.  All the bare soil is pale and cracked.  At least I can imagine it being otherwise in the bed mulched with straw.

Good things in the vegetable garden:


1. Schweiserreisen snow peas are ready to eat and it looks like they will be in production for a good long time.  Seeds were sown over several weeks in April and May.  The second batch are just starting to blossom and the third lot are still preoccupied with climbing their cages.

Costata Romanesca

Papaya Pear

2. Summer squash are fruitful.  I haven't lifted a finger to ensure pollination of the Papaya Pear or Costata Romanesca squashes, and yet it happened.  The perfect yellow PP's are growing slowly, but I have a feeling the CR is going to be ready to eat within a week.  Just a feeling.

Tiny Tim tomato

3.  Tomato blossoms are open and willing, even the Tiny Tim, which is no more than 8 inches tall yet.  This might be a normal time for blossoms, or even late, but I'm relieved to see them after a late start, especially knowing that I can count on only another 70 frost free days.  The plants finally have stakes and cages in place for support when they require it and have undergone a thorough de-suckering in the last week.  Curious to see what the results of that will be.The potatoes also have blossoms, not yet opened, but I don't know what their purpose is.

4.  Scarlet runner beans have begun climbing their sunflower stalk poles.  The Vegetable Gardener's Bible told me that pole beans and sunflowers are bad companions, after I had planted all of the beans and given them what I thought would be a great climbing structure.  Vines certainly seem to prefer winding themselves around things that are approximately circles in cross-section.  Sometimes vines wave around for days, and resist all coaxing on my part, before they commit to a climbing pole.  Then they can't seem to move fast enough.  We hope the red blossoms will draw hummingbirds this year.



5.  We remembered that we have shade cloth, a green mesh that is supposed to block just the right amount of sunlight (So much and no more, as Mr. Carp might say) to allow growth of the more heat sensitive species, like lettuce and radishes.  Actually, I forgot to plant radishes last weekend, but we already have garden cress, lettuce, beets and pak choi sprouting away.  It looks like they're camping.  The ubiquitous quack grass is doing okay inside the shade cloth tent, too.

6.  Asparagus ferns are huge, some taller than me (the photo is a bit out of date.) We enjoyed all of four, or six, or eight spears of asparagus this spring, which is quite disappointing, since we were supposed to begin last year to reap the rewards of waiting through two years of root development.  There were tense days after I had snapped off all visible spears and no more were apparently forthcoming.  How would the roots be replenished?  But the spears did finally emerge and unfold into substantial ferns.  A couple of bees were busy in the flowers this evening.  It bodes well for a better harvest next year.

7.  Sun chokes (Jerusalem artichokes) appear to be thriving in all their locations.  Shade from the boulevard trees does not seem to be a problem, nor does being planted in a box of earth and compost set atop a sheet of cardboard.  Whether they can survive encroachment by everlasting sweet peas remains to be seen, but we are willing to intervene to a reasonable extent should they appear threatened.

8.  Honey berries.  I may have picked that last of this year's crop.  We took in more than a kilogram altogether, from both bushes, by my extremely rough estimate.  That may not sound like much, but after feeling fortunate to get a dozen berries from our now deceased Saskatoon bushes, I consider this to be a wildly successful endeavour.  A new variety, Borealis, is now planted in the front yard, where I hope its minimum sun requirements will be met.  It will be great to have a bush I can walk all the way around to get at all the berries.  Planting the first two near the neighbour's fence was not such a good idea.




These are the good things that come to mind, and this post has gone on long enough.  Next time: the bad, possibly the ugly, perhaps the rather interesting.