Yea, it’s been awhile, sorry about that. I’d have a leg to stand on if this were a real farm. Alas…
Every growing season is a learning one. I’m sure that’s true for all farmers, but when you’re just starting out, getting used to growing things, the lessons make themselves known strongly. A dozen tomato plants and maybe 2 of them are going to bear fruit, looks like. I overplanted, and one entire bin is withering, in spite of copious rains and the same sun as the other bin. I need to make some notes about what I think went wrong, so I can reel myself in a bit next season. I’m trying not to think about how the scarcity of pollinators could be playing a role too. I swear when we do get land, the first critters we procure may be housed in hives.
That sad looking batch of potatoes represents the first dig of the Russetts; there’s a couple left in one bin, but it’s not going to be nearly the yield I anticipated. Hubs brought up an interesting question. Granted, he’s a conspiracy theorist these days, but he pointed out that the Russetts were planted from an ordinary grocery store potato, non-organic, and it’s possible they are genetically bred not to grow outside of lab conditions. The leaves just died off early, while the Yukons (from Sow True) are still going strong. I’m thinking if it was blight, the fruit would’ve been affected. Will be researching further.
July here has been about rain, quite a bit of it, so everything’s growing like gangbusters, but actual harvesting will prove thin. We’ll bring in some mint, lemon balm, and basil this weekend, get the dehydrator humming, and I may start culling some pots already, of the stuff that I know isn’t going to make a go of it. It’s a little fascinating how the rain falls; we’ve got one tomato/parsley pot drowning, but it’s under the crabapple, so the branches of the crabapple must lean just so to make the rainfall heavier there.
Our situation isn’t really optimal for fall/winter crops, but I’m still hoping to start a tea garden. Not sure where, as the kitten is 3 months old and that definitely isn’t conducive to indoor plants, but I’ve got time.
I stepped outside this morning to cool temperatures, which still amazes me. Yea, I live in the mountains now, but it’s July, which I spent a quarter century equating with the wet wool blanket of HOT that followed you from door to door of wherever you were going. I could weep with relief. I see things with new eyes still; it’s like last year was all about just reveling in being here, and now I’m actually looking and seeing stuff. So much green, so much growth. Oak leaves big as dinner plates. The berry haul was almost nothing this year, because the landscapers are douchebags and cut it all back, which is cool though, because it helped me see how much I’d like some berry bushes when…..
So much to learn! Some local farmers are kind with samples, and what I thought were red raspberries at the Weaverville market last week were actually wineberries, a lovely mix of sweet and tart. Sampling also proved lucrative for Gibson’s, as their blueberries are the best I’ve ever eaten and I loaded up on those, made another refrigerator pie and froze the rest. The season’s definitely later up here, and I’m grateful.
I defrosted last year’s blackberry haul and canned blackberry jam last week. This weekend is about peaches (jam again) and tomato sauce. Enjoying the hell out of the process and seeing how it makes my pantry look.
Ansel’s wonderful. Curious and playful, running everywhere. He’s a biter, so we’re working with words and a spray bottle of water to get our point across, and he’s a quick learner. Growing like a weed. Figaro still hisses quite a bit, but we’re integrating them daily into each other’s lives and no bloodshed yet.