In case you’re wondering why I’m not returning your phone calls these days, here’s a quick tally of what’s going on in the gardens this summer. I plan to post notes in the coming weeks on the status of some of these, if there’s time. For the most part, my evenings are set to a soundtrack I like to call Blanch and Freeze, whose lyrics are primarily comprised of top-of-lungs obscenities hurled over a rhythm of the splash of boiling water hitting my skin. Here’s what’s to blame for it.
In the Cooter Hollow smaller garden:
Stuff that sticks around awhile: Asparagus | Oregano (which is threatening a hostile takeover of the whole fucking place) | Chives | Lavender | Thyme (which just went in this summer and is looking haggard, especially as it has to ward off the threat of oregano) | Blueberries
Stuff for the season: Snap peas | Tomatoes | Pickling cucumbers | Slicing cucumbers | Mustard Greens (spicy enough to knock your head right off, especially if yours is a sensitive Nordic native head. Timeo Danaos! )| Arugula | Radishes | Sweet onions | Garlic | Dill | Basil | Cilantro | Kale | Spinach
The lower garden being guarded by the mountain lion is divided into two massive plots, each large enough to feed the entire village. One side contains:
Melons (oh, what I’ve gone through to grow melons in these parts. You shall know soon enough. It may involve soaking the seeds in my own digestive bile, but god, they’re growing. Â More to come.) | Snow peas (Dear snow peas, I love you, but please stop flowering. I’ve had quite enough of you for now.) | Snap peas (the same goes for you, snap peas.) | Zucchini (Dear zucchini: please go play with the peas.) | Mustard greens (See above. They’re too much for him, but I can’t get enough of them.) | Sweet onions | Red onions | Bunching onions | Pickling onions (yes, I’m growing Bloody Mary onions. Why wouldn’t I? Â Next year I will put out horseradish, then treat you to a drunk gardening tutorial) | Watermelon radishes | Beets | Arugula | Carrots | Swiss chard | Dill | Pickling cucumbers | Edamame (8 or 9 rows of the stuff, and next year, I might consider scrapping the rest and writing a memoir about my Year Eating Nothing bug Edamame, which will be the shortest book ever written, containing only the word Yum. Except I’ll be drunk on Bloody Mary, so probably won’t be able to get that far.)Â Â | Tomatillos | Tomatoes | Vermont cranberry beans | Black (turtle) beans | Pole beans | Peppers (assorted) | Eggplant (kind of) | Bok choi | Brussels sprouts | Corn (several rows, presently in various states of patheticness) | Broccoli raab | Basil | Cilantro | Mixed spicy salad greens | Kale | Kohrabi | Basil | Squash | Broccoli (and if the turkeys don’t leave it the hell alone, I’ll rethink my position on slaughtering animals)
The other side is loaded with potatoes. Many potatoes. Also, Colorado Potato Beetles, but mostly dead ones, thanks to my ninja skills.
Just a little garden, really.
holy smoke..that’s some serious gardening. Yes, do let us know about your melon experiment. My strolls down the melon path in Vermont have resulted in baseball size cute little things that take up prime real estate and yield two mouthfuls but if you have some tricks please do tell. I was watching some videos from the BBC series ‘The Victorian Kitchen Garden’ and apparently all I need are some glass house and a few slaves to do it right. In any event keep up the good work kiddo!