In the spot where the broccoli went to meet their maker there are plants. I blink, look again. Is it possible? Were the broccoli just resting before putting on a big growth spurt? Well, yes, I suppose it is possible, but if this is the case, why the hell do they look so much like tomato plants?
Go inside and do a Google image search for young broccoli plants. Who am I trying to kid? This bears no resemblance whatsoever to the plants outside. And then I remember that part of the area I’ve rototilled did have some compost – clearly including rotting tomatoes – spread on it. So, it turns out I have actually managed – albeit by accident – to grow something in this soil from seed. Well, big pat on the back for me.
A sudden reminder of the mutant tomato plant which grew from the seed of a fallen ancestor in our Walthamstow garden.
This was, I thought, a minor miracle, given that the reason we grew everything in containers was because the ‘soil’ consisted of an inch of mulch on top of an inch of sand on top of concrete. When I emailed this photo of the plant and six foot two Ben to my cousin Peter, he explained that tomatoes planted in shallow soil will simply grow up (and up and up).
Oh, well. Not sure these newcomers will actually have time to flower and bear fruit. And it’s not as if I need more tomatoes.
There are indeed hundreds of tomatoes coming out on the two well advanced Sweet 100s I planted when everything else in the so-called vegetable patch was withering and dying.
And, while Pat ended up reaping a lot of the benefit of the Tumbler tomatoes in the two weeks I was away, there are still quite a few coming out on these.
Elsewhere in the garden, the hanging-in-there rocket has not only had a bit of a growth spurt (are these leaves actually big enough to be worth harvesting for salad?), but are actually flowering. And, much to my astonishment, some of the carrots seem to be staging a comeback. I could actually get a few carrots out of my garden. Well, well. (The lettuce, on the other hand, has completely disappeared, as has the last trace of the beets. Oh, well.)
And the blackberries are ready to pick!
Not quite enough yet to make the blackberry crumble I’ve been wanting for months, but more than enough berries to have with some vanilla gelato for dessert tonight.
And there are other garden crops – even if they’re not mine. When I go over to thank Pat for watering the garden, he pulls out a large zucchini (courgette) and an acorn squash for me. (My own pumpkin and spaghetti squash plants are struggling to produce any produce, but I haven’t completely given up on them yet.) Mike turns his nose up at the squash – like I don’t remember he doesn’t like squash – until I remind him that I have a delicious squash soup recipe.
Meanwhile, indoors, the mouse war has gone ultrasonic. The absence for a fortnight of any dry cat food or a water bowl for Tri may have already discouraged them (no sign of new droppings on my return) and I’m keeping it that way.
Discovered at the Home Hardware on Commercial Drive (where they not only cut an eight foot curtain rod down to the seven foot I needed, but also fixed a lampshade the shippers had buggered up – I love those guys) that plug-in ultrasonic rodent repellers exist. This shop, as former Drive residents will attest, has everything. Where was the ultrasonic option at Canadian Tire or Home Depot? Nowhere, that’s where. So, fuck off, Mickey Mouse, and thank you, Home Hardware.
No comments:
Post a Comment