Long time, no see

Yes, yes, yes. I know. It’s been a ridiculous amount of time since the last garden update. What can I tell you? I was busy rehearsing and portraying the poisonous Miss Prothero. Then I was busy rehearsing and portraying mischievous Maria in Twelfth Night. Then I got distracted by the gong show in Cleveland. And, yes, truth be told, I’ve also had a bit of a case of what my friend Krys and I used to call the “I can’t be bothereds”. So, here I am, hopefully better late than never, trying to catch up.

For those of you who aren’t on Gabriola, the first thing to report is that, after three long, hot summers, normal weather service seems to have resumed. The return of Juneuary was a bit of a shock. (Actually broke down one evening quite late in June and lit the fire.)  Early July brought its own surprises, including two thunder storms (rare in this neck of the woods.) Good for water levels in the well.

Not so good for tomatoes. After three summers of having more cherry tomatoes than I knew what to do with, this year’s crop qualifies as slim pickings.

This is what I brought up from the garden this morning. May look like a fair few tomatoes, but I’m honestly not sure how many more I will see. Ditto the peas.

Something that is new this summer are the pink gooseberries (the things that look like grapes). Although the gooseberry bush has previously borne some fruit, this is the first year the berries have ripened enough to eat.

Ditto the black currants I picked last month. And in the next couple of weeks I will also be harvesting some blueberries. In all previous summers since the garden project began and the fruit bushes were planted the berries all disappeared just as they were getting ripe.

Thank you, Cec Ashley, for the fruit frames!

Cherry (tomato) picking

It’s the Victoria Day long weekend and everyone on Gabriola knows what that means.

But before we get to that, shall we take a minute to ask why Canada, in the 21^st century, has a public holiday honouring a 19^th century prudish, colonialist British monarch? No idea? No, neither do I.

A couple of years ago a group of Canadian notables petitioned the Harper government to change the name of the holiday to “Victoria and First Peoples Day”. I hated the name, although I applauded the sentiment. On reflection, I do like the name, marrying as it does the name of the woman in whose name treaties were made and broken with the people whose land was stolen and culture almost obliterated. Of course, this suggestion was never going to fly with bizarrely anglophile Harper. Perhaps it’s time to propose the idea of a name change to the new Prime Minister. (And if he disagrees, suggest taking it outside.) Failing that, how about making National Aboriginal Day – which is also happily the first day of summer – a national holiday and day of atonement?

Anyway, what the Victoria Day weekend means on Gabriola is the official opening of the farmers market at the Agi Hall. And this means the lovely lady whose name I can never remember (but I think might be Linda) will be there selling her wonderful tomato plants. Which means it’s time to get going on the cherry tomatoes!

The market is heaving when I arrive. I clock that the lovely lady is there, then have a quick wander around. The market operators have stated that this year there will be a lot more actual food, compared to the tables selling crystals, tie-dyed apparel and other hippie dippie extravagances. Hmm. There is definitely more produce than there has been in past years, but I think the volume of New Age product is still considerably higher. Unless the tie-dyed apparel is actually being grown in fields, it’s still not clear to me why this is called a farmers market.

Never mind. The artisans need somewhere to flog their wares. Makes no odds to me. The stall I want is there. I head back to it. When I arrive I overhear some terrible news: The lovely lady is moving to Nanaimo. This is going to be her first and last appearance of the year at the market. Thank goodness I came today.

I ask about cherry tomatoes and she points me towards the large selection of pots behind the stall. I go to investigate. My goodness. They’re huge! I’m almost certain her tomato plants aren’t usually this tall this early in the year.

Two years ago, after fucking Bambo got into the garden and ate the tops of all the profusely flowering red cherry tomato plants, I bought a couple of yellow cherry tomato plants (all she had left by then) from her. The plants turned out to be prolific and the tomatoes turned out to be delicious.

So delicious that last year I bought another yellow cherry tomato plant from her. Not quite as much success.

Whatever variety these fairly large tomatoes were, they were not yellow cherries. Still, not a complete loss. Not being a big fan of large tomatoes for eating, I did end up making my first ever batch of tomato sauce, which was very tasty.

Despite last year’s not yellow cherry tomato mix up, I decide to take a chance again and purchase one purportedly yellow tomato plant and two reds. Time will tell what I actually have in these pots. 

The other thing the Victoria Day weekend always brings is my holiday-home neighbours. Their “house” is actually a glorified shed, fractionally less than the ten foot square maximum after which new homes must pass a building inspection. Not a lot of space in which to spend a lot of time, ergo the picnic bench and outdoor furniture which would be very pleasant if it didn’t bucket down every time they come. Typically, their arrival on Thursday brought rain.

This afternoon, however, was merely overcast. Fine for planting and staking the tomato plants. Oh, and what’s this? After the plants are in their pots and have been watered, the sun actually comes out.

Clearly I need to go into the house, make a cup of tea and return to the garden with the paper, in order to spend some quality time on the garden swing with Stella.

After a few minutes I realise something may not be quite right. The buzzing from the California lilac does not seem anywhere near as loud as it did this time last year. Is it my imagination (oh, lord, I hope it is) or are there substantially fewer bees buzzing around the blossom?  

I come back into the house and check the “buzzing” blog entries from previous years. Both seem to be from early June. Perhaps the word hasn’t got out to the wider bee population yet. 

Oh, lord, I hope that’s what it is.

Arghhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yesterday I had leafy wisteria and clematis vines entwined in the back fence of the garden. Even though the clematis failed to flower this year (apparently this is not uncommon when clematises – clemati? – are replanted), the leafy vines spreading across the fence did look quite pretty. 

This morning when I went down to water the garden, there were no leaves left on the vines of either plant. 

A quick look around the rest of the garden reassures me that he didn’t get into the garden itself, merely managed to squeeze in between the trees and the fence. Bastard, bastard, bastard. 

Elsewhere, in long overdue garden news… 

The spaghetti squash plant, despite a profusion of flowers, has produced one squash. The baby watermelon plant, despite a profusion of flowers, has produced one baby watermelon. 

Disappointing realisation that all the squash seeds I planted that actually sprouted are scallopinis. Which is fine, I suppose, except I really did want more acorn squash this summer and it’s now too late to do anything about it. Oh, well.

The courgette plant, which wasn’t looking too promising, is now producing at a decent clip. (Recently made my first batch of Becky’s excellent courgette and gorgonzola soup.)

One nice surprise: For the first time since I planted it two or three years ago, the pink gooseberry bush has produced fruit this year.

Hardly enough for the gooseberry fool I was dreaming of when I planted it, but tasty nonetheless.

The cherry tomatoes are still producing an abundance of fruit.

Given the tastiness of the yellow cherry tomatoes I planted last summer (after fucking Bambo ate all the red ones), I decided to plant another one this year. This is it.

You can’t fool me. Not only are these tomatoes not yellow, they are three times the size of the cherry tomatoes. (Tasty, admittedly, but not what I thought I was buying at the market back in May.

Like the ridiculously early raspberries, the blackberries are ridiculously early this year. 

Started picking them in mid-July and genuinely cannot keep up. This would be a good year to make jam – if I was a jam maker, but I’m not. Even sharing them with Pat, there is an overabundance. I’ve already frozen about two pounds of them. (Good to know I may not have to buy any frozen berries for my cereal over the winter.)

Another nice surprise in “the back 40”. When it occurred to me a couple of months ago that deer do not eat rhododendrons, I decided to plant a couple in the back. Assumed at the time that they were well past flowering time, but look!

One of them is flowering now. And very pretty the flowers are. 

I’m pleased to report that, touch wood (short pause for me to touch both the desk and my head), the well is still holding up. (Or should I say filling up?) An ongoing worry nonetheless.

Apologies that the updates have been so few and far between, but what can I say? I’d rather be in the garden on the swing with Stella and a good book than in the house writing about the garden at my desk.

Zukes alors!

Okay, okay, okay. I know I am long overdue for an update and I do promise there will be one – eventually. For now I simply pose the question: are courgettes/zucchinis mutants?

When I left for Seattle on Sunday morning for the Mike Wallace Memorial Baseball Game, there were two young courgettes on the plant and two barely starting to grow from their flowers. When I went down to the garden this morning I had two fucking huge courgettes and two smaller ones. WTF?

Thank heavens for Becky’s courgette soup recipe, another batch of which I am about to make, otherwise I’d have to give the damn things away.

I reproduce it here for anyone having a similar problem.

Courgette and cheese soup

• 2 tbsp olive oil
• 1 tbsp butter
• 1 medium onion, roughly chopped
• 900g courgettes, trimmed and sliced
• 1 tsp dried oregano (or 3 tbsp fresh oregano)
• 600 ml veg stock
• 115g dolcelatte cheese, diced (or gorgonzola for more cheesy input)
• 300ml / 1.25 cups of single cream (Becky: I don’t think you really need this*)
• salt and pepper

1. Heat oil and butter in saucepan until foaming. Add onion and cook for about 5 mins stirring frequently until softened
2. Add the courgettes and oregano, with salt and pepper to taste. Cook for 10 mins on medium heat, stirring.
3. Pour in stock and bring to boil, stirring frequently, lower heat and half cover pan, simmer gently for about 30 mins.
4. Stir in cheese until melted
5. Process in blender until smooth
6. Add 2/3 of the cream and stir over low heat until hot but not boiling. 
7. Adjust seasoning if you like.
8. Pour into bowls and swirl in remaining cream.

* Like Becky, I really don’t think the cream adds anything.

Elsewhere: As you can see from the photo above of today's pickings, the blackberry bush has gone mad this year, which means there will be lots to freeze. Hurrah.

The yellow cherry tomato plants – the only kind available when I needed to replace the red cherry tomato plants eaten by the deer (grr) – have been producing well and are very tasty indeed.

And, in case you’re wondering how I’m keeping further invaders out of the garden…

So far, so good. Namaste.