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| Gladiola |
At last we've had some warm sunny days. My tomatoes are forming little green trusses. I have this terrible (hope it's not a premonition) feeling they'll go orange, we'll get a big rainfall, and they'll split and go moldy. It's happened before.
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| Crocosmia |
I built a very rustic raised bed at the edge of the patio; I stacked some bricks up dry--no mortar--and just piled some organic matter and dirt into it. I then transplanted some sorry-looking basil and scattered lettuce, radish, basil, and dill seeds. I thought the bricks would extend the season a little by keeping the bed warm with radiant heat, and figured if I don't like it or it doesn't work well, I can always dismantle it easily. The bricks were lying about anyway--as was the compost. Free!
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| Dahlia |
On one of our daily walks, Franklin and I discovered wild raspberries fruiting, and spent many happy mornings in the raspberry patch, dodging nettles and bees. Now the blackberries are coming into season, and so proliferant we don't have to range far to find a tangle of them. Also in season: wild apples. We know of several trees within walking distance--some sour, some extra sour. No matter; Franklin loves them all. He eats everything but the stem.
I also have my eye on a big stand of wild hazelnut trees. When they ripen, I'll be there beating off the squirrels with a big fat stick. Metaphorically. I've only ever seen one squirrel (two years ago at that) in the park, and I've walking there practically every day for the last four years. Maybe I'll be fighting off the rabbits. Or ducks.
