Blog Action Day on Poverty

GUEST POST BY KGWALLS

The Rubies of Summer

I have gardened for years and it is a joy planning what to put in the three large gardens. I can provide for four families, but, even at that, what do you do with the extra?

I had decided to downsize.

Every conversation with me somehow turns to the garden and in talking with a family friend who helps with the local food pantry, I found out, “They would gladly take any overflow.”

There was re-planning and a new excitement, what would they like?

Over the growing season with no rain to speak of and abundance of bugs I ended up with mostly tomatoes. Big beautiful Beef Steak tomatoes. I hand picked each one inspecting all for imperfections. I wanted who ever received them to know that they, like the tomatoes, were important. I am a firm believer in giving the best. I can keep the ones that have a bad spot and needs to be eaten soon.

If you are going to give it away make sure it is as nice as possible.

It is hard enough to go to a food pantry, without getting fresh vegetables that aren’t fresh.

I got a call from my son the evening after my first delivery; a neighbor of his had received a large tomato in his box of staples and was showing it off. David took one look and knew where that tomato had come from. “Mom, you donated tomatoes didn’t you? I knew that they were yours!”

Talk to your local food pantry and see if they can handle fresh vegetables and if so next year throw in an extra plant, or three. Next year I will be trying again. Beans, peppers, cabbage, cucumbers and of course Big Red tomatoes, the rubies of summer.

Wildflower Gardening by Default

I am taking a laissez faire approach to gardening this year. I have not pulled a weed. (Well, accept for dandelions, clover, garlic mustard and vetch. Oh yeah, and globe thistle sproutlings. Egads, what was I thinking when I planted them?) In the beginning, I was too busy, but then I noticed the miniscule white blossoms of mountain sandwort, a blushing pink lady’s slipper and a burst of purple from a dame’s rocket, so I had to leave them. I never got around to weeding a bed close to the woods only to discover that what I had been pulling all these years is wild sarsaparilla.

I have decided to catalog what it is that I have growing instead of trying to tame it. Here is the list so far. I'll update it as the season progresses

Wild Sarsaparilla
Pink Lady’s Slipper
Beardstongue
Mountain Sandwort
Mountain Laurel
Highbush Blueberry
White Wood Aster
Whorled Loosestrife
Two-flowered Cynthia
Witch Hazel
Butterfly Weed
Common Mugwort
Lady’s Thumb
Dame’s Rocket
Yellow Hawkweed
White Campion
Philadelphia Fleabane
Ground Ivy
Cow Vetch
Sweet Fern
Bracken

Container vegetable gardening

"Did you put plants in the dog pen?" The neighbor scratched his head. "Huh!"

In addition to all the flower beds, I have been doing container gardening for years. Some of my 16 pots are beautiful handmade Italian terracotta ones, but others are resin and yes, some are the plastic fake terracotta look-a-likes. Every fall I laboriously lug them into the garage to bring out again in May. On a perfect spring day, you can find me in the beds fussing at the weeds and separating perennials or at the various nurseries happily puttering among the rows of pastel annuals and bright perennials, browsing shrubs and stroking ornamental grasses. But this year my pocketbook decided to forego flowers and embrace vegetables. Yes, vegetables.

In the past, vegetable gardening has proved to be a challenge because of the deer and the groundhogs not to mention rocky soil and too many trees. Or rather not enough sun. But last fall some folks from the flatland came up and we took down many trees and hard-pruned the lilacs. This opened up the beds and - the dog pen - to more sun. Attached to my house is an unused dog pen. I have no dog. I considered tearing it down many times, but have never gotten around to it. Now the fence will keep the critters at bay, the stones will provide good drainage and I will have a kitchen garden. Hopefully.

I filled my pots with fresh container dirt (the kind that is lighter and has the water crystals in it.) And after giving some thought to my cooking habits (eclectic at best) and talking with a master gardener (my sister) I decided on tomatoes, peppers, lettuce, eggplant, beans, onions, lemon grass, squash, and a catnip plant for the kitties. My oregano and thyme come back every year and I have parsley volunteers that are taking over the gold mop cypress in the front of the house.

Now all I need is some heat and sun. Hopefully this time next month, I will be eating fresh mescun salad. Oh boy, Ratatouille here I come.

BYOB-Bring your Own Bag

Murmuring guest from the flatland


Last week in the flatland, we got two inches of rain in thirty-six hours.
The entire garden is doing the happy dance and the green beans have taken off.

Now, when I say green beans that is a generalization. My beans are green, purple, yellow, green with rose streaks and ivory with purple streaks. And, I am growing for the first time--yard-long beans. They seem to come in 2 colors, green and red. I am, of course, growing the most unusual kind. The red yard-long beans are not a yard long, but closer to 2 feet. I was disappointed in the beginning. I kept waiting for them to grow longer, and instead ended up with thick fat lumpy beans.

What was I thinking? What am I to do with them? It looks like one bean can feed a family of four. Kidding…but not by much. It is way too hot in the house to can them.

Coming in from the garden last night I noticed some of my neighbors sitting out on their porch, so over I went with bag-o-beans in hand. I was thoughtful enough to supply empty grocery bag for them to each fill with as many as they wanted. They only took a few.

I broke down and brought another plastic grocery bag stuffed full of beans to work. I shunned the zucchini traitors and just set the bag in the break room. Everyone could fend for them selves. They all know just by looking who brought the beans.

This is a bushel of beans. When they are cooked they keep their color. How fun is this. Want some? I got plenty.

Black Flies, Little Black Flies

Can we talk about Black Flies for a minute? I didn’t grow up with Black Flies. I was blissfully unaware. I had heard of them, of course and laughed at the Canadian folk song, but no first-hand experience. Let me tell you, it is all-true!

I always forget that at this time of year up here on the mountain we are infested. It only lasts for a few weeks, thank heavens, but it is dreadful. Oddly, they do not seem to bite the neighbors—only me. Isn’t that swell? They are tiny, well, black flies. They seem to prefer ankles and elbows. They can bore through clothing. They bite through jeans. They get in your hair and nibble on your scalp. If that is not bad enough, I swell up. Yup, allergic. Grrrreat. When I went to Alaska, fearing the worst, I took all kinds of bug spray, antihistamine, even a bug net. No need. I come back to the east and what do I find? Black Flies. Sigh.

Now, I am well aware of the consequences and (after the first bite) take precautions. But there always seems to be some sliver of skin sticking out and they hone right in on it. Urgh. As I write this, my right foot and ankle has 4 bites, and there are 4 on one arm 2 on my side and several in my scalp. Thank Heavens for Benedryl.

I am gardening in heavy pants and a sweatshirt. It was 94 yesterday. I don’t want to kill every living thing on the property with pesticide, so I muddle through. It will be done soon. It will be done soon. I have to keep telling myself that as I gear up to battle nature. So, if you have Black Flies in your neck of the woods, you have my sympathy. If you don’t, want some of mine?????