I can mistake my red fingernails for even more ultra-fresh berries to eat. I really do. And I am in love.
To be honest, I didn't have to try very hard; it rained a lot. I've only had to water and weed a handful of times. And just a couple of harsh words when I was trying to use the nail gun.
The generous Canadian cool made my Sugar and Snap Peas flourish, my novice attempt at Coronado Crown Broccoli had me looking like a pro, and my Tyhee Spinach churned into a healthy old-growth forest. Onions, Carrots, Garlic. All yummy. And prolific.
However, some things didn't fare as well.
My Black Simpson Leaf Lettuce sacrificed itself as a huge frigid slug trap. And by golly, I had little problem with slugs elsewhere this year. Thank you, Simpson.
Still waiting for a petal to peek on my Double-Click Cosmos. ...I'll be sure... to keep you.. posted.
(Drum roll please!) The one and only Bee Balm. Literally, the most singular plant I have. The columbine didn't make it at all.
The weeds in my plucky sun-loving Hostas turned out to be hot pink Catch Fly; a few seeds I planted from a packet for breast cancer awareness, last year. My spouse asked me to keep them untouched. So I did.
(Please note that many people in "evergreen" Western Washington do not water their lawns in the summer so they purposefully go dormant during this period of the year. That is in fact why my grass is patchy-yellow in the picture. Don't judge me.)
And other flowers seemed to beat the odds.
I tried to vertically grow a Miniature Cantaloupe. I imagined myself just plucking them right off the vine as a smart wall of fruit. When I came back from Idaho, It was three feet taller and had a happy Lemon Queen Sunflower on top. Looking down on me.
I therefore deduced that I got the seed mixed up and in fact, had been needlessly training a towering sunflower all along! Maybe next year, little melon? Awkward.
And I put a few arrangements together this year. That's my favorite part. I like to quietly take them to church and give them away.
Oh! And lest I forget about the soft red potatoes from the grocery that I threw in to my compost. I just decided I needed to throw something, that day. Again, don't judge me.
Weeks later, I had a friend ask me about the plants growing out of my dirt pile. (I'm not the best compost-er, either.) I proceeded to tell her about the majesty of nature, the will to survive, and the implication that I don't know what I'm doing. And we left it at that. But I left them. My rogue potato greens. And wouldn't you know it! I have about two bright, shiny pounds of red potatoes!
Free. Brought to me by the Washington Potato Growers Association and Costco Wholesale.
And we yet we continued to receive in other ways. I love how perennials make new starts. And our friends gave us needed form and function for our back fence; namely, a thornless blackberry, ever-bearing strawberries, raspberry shoots up the wazoo, and a GRAPE.
I feel so sophisticated about that one. I'm told it's super sweet and makes perfect raisins, and I'm excited for the future.
Until next year,
We've all been indeed inspired by a successful agra-horti-colorfully experimental season.
Woody House and Home, 2010.
