garlic and marigolds

According to the U of M extension folks, I'm about two weeks late on planting garlic. It should be done within one to two weeks of the first frost, so that roots are developing and shoots are growing, but not above soil level, by the time of the first hard frost (28 degrees - so that answers that question for me. Thank you U of M).

Having adopted the stance of my father-in-law ("try it and see"), I planted my garlic today (adding compost to my bed, digging 1" deep holes, spaced 8" apart with rows 1' apart, (which took up 2 rows of my 10' bed (bed #5))), despite being off on my timing. Then I mulched with straw and I'm about to go water (knowing that water is fundamental to all life, I forgot that part until now) and maybe it will work and maybe it won't. If I get to the point where I can harvest garlic, I'll know the time is right when the foliage dies back. Then dig up bulbs, dry in the sun and store in a cool, dry well-ventilated location (which I don't have).

Does it work to save marigold seeds? As I was digging out the frost-bitten marigolds, it seemed worth a try to save the seeds. I'm drying them out now and then I'll tuck them in an envelope and and see how they do come spring.

fall action plan

Since I learned from Bob Flowerdew that I don't have to dig my vegetable beds in the autumn, I'm working on a new checklist for "putting my garden to bed" for the winter.
1. Pull out vegetable plants and annuals.
2. Pull out little metal stakes that hold the soaker hoses in place.
3. Move hoses to the side. (This is the first time I've not rolled them up and put them in the shed - is this laziness or an example of "working smarter, not harder?"* We shall find out come spring.)
4. Rake up debris (see elucidating photo above).
5. Hoe to get any pesky weeds that have survived my eternal vigilance.
6. Rake debris up again.
7. Replace hoses in beds.
8. Cover beds with mulched leaves (I ran out of mulched leaves, so most of my beds will be bare. It feels wrong, but my mower having played out, I have fewer options than normal. Apparently taking the mower to the fix-it shop is not an option.)

I also pulled out my elephant ear bulb and have it drying out for a few days before I put it in sphagnum peat moss or garden vermiculite. But before I settle it in for it's winter storage, I'll trim the top growth.

Friend or foe? I saw several of these guys while I was cleaning my veggie beds. I left them until I could learn more.

*A phrase that I understand is used in the corporate setting and which must be a number one contributor to work-place dissatisfaction and stress-related heart disease.

hard frost

I don't know the exact definition of a hard frost, but my understanding is that below-freezing temperatures that last for more a few hours qualify. At 5 a.m. my husband told me it was 23 degrees and when I checked at 7:30, the temp was still 23 degrees, so I'm calling this a hard frost. Plus a visit to the garden beds revealed rock hard ground - rock hard when rapped with the knuckles, but still diggable (the technical term) with a shovel.
(Fortunately for me no whistles sounded alerting me to the freezing temperatures and routing me from my bed so I could take the only blankets in the house outside to cover my precious, tender tomato plants on whose survival hinges my entire livelihood. See Eudora Welty's "The Whistle" for a stark portrayal of a night in the life of tomato farmers in Mississippi during the Depression).
I have been anticipating a hard frost and hoping I'd have straw on the premises in time to mulch my lettuce bed (see Bud Markhart's advice in Norther Gardener, sept/oct 2010 issue).
And lo and behold I got straw yesterday. But did I put it on the lettuce bed before temps dropped below freezing? Hmmm. As my kids like to say when they are on the defensive, "why would I?" And really it's a great defensive stance because usually, as in this case, the reasons why one would are so numerous there isn't time enough in the day to go into it.
So... the lettuce froze and I put straw on it anyway and we shall see what we see come spring.

This truly dynamic photo enlightens the viewer as to what straw looks like and how dead my marigolds are (upper right).

I dug out my scarlet nantes carrots, too, by the bye. They are now stored in a plastic bag in my hydrator. Potatoes - last plant - are still in the ground.

mellow fruitfulness

The kids found two raspberries on the raspberry bushes and claim there are flowers on the bushes ready to produce more. I thought I had June bearing raspberries - is there an everbearing in there or is this the effect of perpetual Indian summer.

tomato experiment results

Q: Will tomatoes wrapped in newspaper and stored indoors ripen?
A: Yes, maybe 25% of the tomatoes will ripen, the rest will decay.

Q: Would diligently checking the tomatoes every other day have staved off decay in some?
A: I don't know.

Q: Did the light frost before the tomatoes were picked affect their quality and or create a tendency to rot?
A: Uhhh... maybe.

Q: When the subject of autumn and tomatoes and tomato harvest comes up with with people aged 65 (or so), will they suggest that you try wrapping the tomatoes in newspaper and storing them until they ripen?
A: Yes, 100% of the time (sample size: 2)

Q: Will the wrapping in newspaper technique yield tomatoes into December, as per the anecdotal evidence found in blogs?
A: Not according the the anecdotal evidence found under my bed.

composing compost

I've been waiting for the mosquitoes to die off so I could deal with my compost which looks neglected, but I think compost likes to be left alone. I know some folks turn theirs and some folks water theirs and my mom layers hers. I throw debris and kitchen scraps into whichever bin is empty and I wait, using from the bottom of my handy black bin that I bought many moons ago.
The other day, I went to use from the bottom and found that my bin was almost empty! Why that astounds and pleases me, I don't know, but it felt like an accomplishment. And it meant I could take advantage of a pleasant and mosquito-free day to move compost from the dilapidated chicken-wire bin I made myself, to the black bin with the use-from-the-bottom feature. And it made room for autumn leaves! I just hope I have more compost by spring planting time.
A third bin my be necessary.

keeping my autumn sensibility

I'm going to reveal myself as belonging firmly on the side of the complainers, the glass-is-half-empty types, the sour-pusses when I admit that my autumn sensibility is wearing thin. More than three weeks of perfect, sunny, warm-during-the-day, cool-at-night, dry weather have left me longing for an excuse to go dormant with my plants - hide in the house, cook stews, bake cakes and work on indoor projects, like the plants do underground.
But, the plants aren't going dormant. The tomatoes are out, sure. Lettuce I can deal with. A pepper blossom means coming fruitfulness and I'm not ready. How do folks in California stand it?

squarsh

seed saved in an envelope for next season and, yes, microwaved within the squash for five minutes so I could cut through the thick-skinned monstrosity to get at the seeds and bake the squash in rings - as per Better Homes and Gardens recipe.

lettuce now praise indian summer

Three weeks of indian summer and the lettuce is happy. I planted more seeds today (cos and ruby) to fill in the already-been-picked spots.
After I was so pleased to learn that small radishes are lauded by Bob Flowerdew, my radishes have decided to do what they never did this past spring or summer and that is to grow full bodied very quickly.

It may  not look like much, but this is a biggie for me.

stand tall molly lou marigold

The marigolds look a little battered, but I still see an occasional bee or butterfly/moth hovering about them, so I'm leaving them a bit longer. In the background is a mound of mulched leaves which I'm spreading on the gooseberry/blackberry/rhubarb/blueberry bed.

I took out the pepper plants and picked off the last wee jalapenos - we put them on our enchiladas last night. And yes, I do touch people's food with my dry, wrinkly old-lady-hand-lady hands. I have a bundle of jalapenos still to freeze and I need to will myself to take the time to use my wizened hands to chop them and put them in freezer bags and label them and, finally, to put them in the freezer. I will thank myself in February and March whenever I make chili.
And by the bye, my kids are too old for it now, but I've always loved Stand Tall, Molly Lou Melon.

compare and contrast

See the big, well formed acorn squash that might feed a family? That's from Grandma and Grandpa. The little baby acorn squash that makes but a suggestion of a snack for one person was grown by me. Must try harder next time.
I had the vine variety of acorn squash and the vine 1) took over the world and 2)got what I will call powdery mildew - whitish junk on the leaves which then withered and died.

So, I pulled the vine out and called my little half-formed acorn squash good. They aren't very sweet, but I eat them anyway and any powdery mildew that I have caught is crusting on my internal organs rather than on my outside, so that's a relief.
Next year... bush acorn squash. (And I can wish, all summer long, that the word "bush" wasn't such an uncomfortable word). Or, as per the recommendation of the in-laws, save the seeds of the two squashes they have given us and plant those next year.

Haralson Hurrah!

Apple Crumb Pie this time, as planned. Let's hope the pie tastes better than my crimped edges look. For the crumb pie (the original recipe is in the Star of Texas Cookbook by the Junior League of Texas) I made a crust, peeled and sliced thin 7 medium haralsons, enough to make a good mountain of apples. Sprinkled the apples with 1/4 cup sugar mixed with 1 tsp. cinnamon. Then cut 1/3 cup butter into 3/4 cup flour mixed with 1/4 cup sugar. I went lighter on the sugar than the original recipe recommends - sugar depletes B vitamins, and I can't maintain my status as a sugar nazi among my family members if I don't cut sugar everywhere possible and look disapproving when my husband eats the sugary cereal I won't let the children have.

The pie took a good 50 minutes to cook. Start at 425 degrees for 10 minutes and then lower the oven temp to 350 and bake until the apples are tender and the top is lightly browned. And with the leftover pie dough...

cheese straws like Mimi used to make (or not quite as good and more like cheese wedges than sticks/straws). Just roll out the rest of the dough, put grated cheese over half of the middle. Fold the dough in half to make a half moon shape. Seal the edges so cheese doesn't melt out and bake until crust is lightly browned and cheese is melted.

emergent lettuce

I guess I mean "arising as a natural or logical consequence" rather than "calling for prompt action" when I say my lettuce is emergent. I planted the seed on Sept. 29 and the lettuce has emerged, or surfaced or sprung up - see how I mean that? Anyhoo. It's all part of my plan to have lettuce cropping until winter hits and then see which lettuce at which stage makes for good baby greens in the early spring - if any survives at all, which depends, I think, on whether I put forth the effort to find straw/hay. Would fall leaves work instead?

we're not in wonderland anymore

No one in my house is as open to suggestion as Alice, so I had to eat my radishes. They were quite good. And just as I was bemoaning their small size, I read Bob Flowerdew on radishes: "tasty and nutritious while still small and tender" (BF, The Gourmet Gardener). Sometimes, you find out you've been doing things right all along.

the end is near ...

so I'm trying the wrap-in-newspaper-layer-in-a-box method for turning my green tomatoes red. It seems a waste to discard so much potential. Bob Flowerdew suggests green tomato chutney, but I am a little too red-blooded-american (ignorant, provincial, unsophisticated) to know what to do with chutney or be sure I'd appreciate it once the effort went into making it. So.... wrapping green tomatoes in newspaper and sticking them in a box that fits conveniently under my bed is what I plan to do with my green tomatoes. Will it work? Will I forget them and wake up one day to find my husband and I are sleeping over a mass of putridity? Time will tell.
Regarding Bob Flowerdew:
1. neither of my girls will put their hair in a braid, put on coveralls and go as Bob Flowerdew for Halloween.
2. I just mulched my young apple tree, only to read that Bob Flowerdew recommends grass under apple trees because the competition with the grass for moisture and nutrients makes the apples better keepers and the grass cushions windfalls, making the fallen apples more salvageable. Now I know. I am going to pretend like young apple trees need mulch and then by the time my tree is a well-grown, solid producer the mulch will have decomposed and the grass can have it's way with the ground.

Happy Haralson Season!

No bottom crust? Strange decision on my part, perhaps, but it hasn't discouraged anyone from eating a most delicious first haralson pie of the season. Next time (which will likely be tomorrow, if my husband's wish is granted) I'll do an apple crumb pie. It's been a year since I made it, but I believe it's a crust on bottom and crisp-like topping. We'll see.

Apple Pie

haralson apples, peeled and sliced thin (enough to make a large mound which will cook down significantly)
1/2 tsp. cinnamon
1/3 cup sugar
1 - 2 TBS flour

Toss apples with cinnamon, sugar and flour. Place in pie plate.
Cover with crust (1.25 c. flour, pulsed in food processor with 1/2 c. butter, 1 tsp. sugar, 1/4 tsp. salt until it resembles coarse crumbs. add 3-4 TBS ice water, pulsing between each addition, until mixture holds together when pressed but is still crumbly. mold into 1" thick disk and wrap in plastic wrap. refrigerate for 1 hour to 3 days. roll out prior to use. makes one crust). Flute edges of crust and cut slits in crust.
Place in 375 degree oven for 45-55 minutes, until crust is lightly browned and apples are tender.

when the frost is on the pumpkin ...

now that's the time for dickie dunkin' (as my mother always says). The frost is also on the geranium (now that's the time for a crazy cranium). You might say frost was general over all my backyard this morning. Not a killing frost - it only got to the low 30s. But the zinnias were browned and have an eye-sore quality now, so I'll take them out. My carrots and potatoes are still in the ground, but I think they'll be okay until a hard frost.

m'lord baltimore

My Lord Baltimore Hibiscus is putting forth one last effort to "be splendid and more splendid." M'lady has retired for the season. They survived an early spring transplant to the west side of the house, although they did give me a scare being rather late to put forth green shoots with the warmer weather. M'lord is particularly lucky because he peeks around the house to get some east sun in the morning in addition to his westerly blistering in the afternoon.