Attack of the killer tomatoes

Okay, they’re not really killer tomatoes, but, honestly, with the exception of the crazy seven-foot tomato which grew from a seed in Walthamstow, I’ve never had cherry tomato plants grow so tall as this year’s crop.

The thin bamboo stakes, which have always done the job in the past, simply cannot bear the weight, so time must spent with scissors and string, tying the plants to the fence. (Good news, as you will see from the bottom left corner of the photo: the tomatoes are ripening.

Speaking of seven-foot plants…

I’ve never seen a thistle anywhere on the property before, then suddenly this year there were three of them growing by the back path. I have a pretty relaxed attitude towards plant/tree life outside the garden. If some plant wants to start growing, fine. (I even tolerate mushrooms.) One of the thistles is now well over seven feet tall. The good news is that bees apparently love thistle flowers. If you click on the photo to see it full size, you’ll spot the bee guzzling thistle nectar on the top flower. Moments before I took the photo, there were bees on all the flowers. So, yay thistles.

Meanwhile, back in the produce section…

My first beet has been harvested and eaten - roasted with some of Pat’s carrots. Yum! (And, yes, Jane, if you are reading this, that is indeed your old cappuccino maker, sold to me when you were moving to electricity-free Keats Island, and still going strong.)

My first two courgettes are coming along nicely.

If my eyes do not deceive me, the first flower has appeared on one of the squash plants.

I’ve just picked my first batch of peas!

The strawberries are flowering again. I’d completely forgotten they do this. Hopefully the squirrels have forgotten, too, and I will be able to pick some without a bite already taken.

The bench cushions and cover are in place.

And when I’ve finished posting this, I shall be sitting on the bench with a book and a large gin and tonic.

Cheers!

Floral notes

Back in the spring, when Krys was taking a turn digging the hole for my (one) apple tree, she tried to move this pot out of the way, not realising the rose bush had taken root in the ground underneath. She ended up being scratched by a rose thorn. “Well,” I said, unable to suppress a smile, “it is Clancy.” (This being the rose bush I’d bought to replace the bedraggled fuchsias marking crazy Clancy’s shallow grave.) Given the temperament of my old black cat, she did laugh.

I’d already pointed out to her the ceanothus marking Jenny’s grave and the rose bush marking the spot where last autumn I buried poor old Tri. Krys looked from Clancy’s rose bush to me. “This isn’t a garden,” she said. “It’s a pet cemetery.” Well, perhaps, but it is a garden, too. (That said, I suspect it’s not going to be long before I need another rose bush. Angie, Tri’s sister and very much Mike’s cat, has held on longer than the vet thought she possibly could last year. She’s a game old gal, who hopefully will turn 20 soon, but it’s just a matter of time.)

Clancy’s rose bush hasn’t been doing all that well. I think it might have managed one blossom per year the previous two summers, but, as elsewhere in the garden, this year is a whole new year.

There are already four red roses ready to open up.

Tri’s rose is also ready to bloom.

Elsewhere in the garden…

The dahlias Pat donated to the cause earlier this year are starting to flower. Unfortunately, when Krys asked me where I wanted them planted before I left for the UK, I picked the wrong spot.

They’re behind the tomato plants, which are much taller this year than I remember them ever being in previous years. Thus, you can barely see the dahlias. Note to self: move dahlias next spring.

And another floral note to self: I need to investigate bee-friendly late flowering plants. The bees loved the apple blossom (main reason I am being very philosophical about the lack of actual apples). Just as the apple blossom was disappearing, the ceanothus (which they really love) bloomed. And just as the flowers on the ceanothus were finishing, the blackberry bush started to flower. Again, happy bees. But what about after the blackberry blossom? The bees are still around, but I have nothing for them.

Must do better for the poor bees.

Advantage, raised bed

Well, I have to say, it was very satisfying last Sunday morning to sit down with my very own strawberries (and raspberries) and cream to watch the Wimbledon Men’s Final. It was, however, nowhere near as satisfying as seeing Andy Murray win straight sets. (Sadly, eight hour time difference meant I missed the first set and there was no champagne.) Yay, Andy!

And yay, too, for the raised bed with decent soil! (And once again undying gratitude to Krys and Glenn for making it possible.)

The courgette is flowering!

There are beets!

Peas, peas, peas!

No sign of flowers on the squash yet, but I’m hoping it’s still early days.

Lest you think there are a few too many exclamation marks, let me remind you of the final score in 2010, when I first attempted to grow food in the garden:

Peas: 0
Beets: 0
Carrots: 0
Broccoli: 0
Courgettes: 0
Squash: 0
Cantaloupe: 0
Lettuce: 0
Rocket: 0
Red peppers: 1
Tomatoes: tons
Blackberries: tons (for which garden project can take no credit)

And allow me to also remind you about my garden guru cousin Peter’s verdict on the crapness of my soil. And then allow me the elation I am currently feeling.

Once again there will be tons of blackberries. Although, as noted in 2010 final score, I get no credit for this. The blackberry bush was here when we bought the house in 1996.

And once again there will be tons of (grow anywhere) tomatoes.

Oh, yes, all very satisfying indeed.