(an idiot's bounty: the fingerlings)
(The Garlic Scape: not a snake, after all)
I asked her, "When can I transplant the seedlings from the warm house into the garden?"
And Agnes replied decisively, "Town Meeting Day."
I planted on Town Meeting Day.
It snowed the day after.
(not the morning I'd expected)
I asked the local garden expert, "When can I REALLY plant my seedlings in the garden?"
He replied, "May 5th."
Frost smothered my dainty sprouts on May 6th.
50 seedlings that had taken me weeks of nurturing, dead.
I was left with a box of seeds, individual paper packets torn open and the contents mingling wantonly, tomato bumping and grinding with the kales and buttercrunch.
In late May, I closed my eyes and chose at random. I ignored recommended planting guidelines. I deposited seeds willy nilly. I didn't care. I couldn't afford to, when chances were that I'd just find a way to kill again.
I checked the garden today. I can report that there is life in spite of me: shimmying snap pea tendrils; broad leaf kale stretching; Medusa tendrils of garlic scape fraternizing; cabbage gathering its cruciferous forces into a tight, leafy fists. All was positively and verdantly resplendent.
Except for the brown splotches on the tomatoes. It appeared they were suffering from blight. At least I thought they were tomatoes. I'm pretty sure I had a wide variety of tomato seeds at my fingertips when I began my adventures in mystery gardening.
I pulled at the infested plants, intent on saving the rest of the miracle garden from the brown splotched grotesquerie that was having it's way with the tender nightshade.
I yanked the plant free. I was taken by a fleeting notion that I'd entered a entomological nightmare. Globular creatures were clinging to the soil encrusted tendrils. What the hell had infested my little garden?
Back inside the house, in the box of mystery seeds, sat a family of plump seedling potatoes among the tiny embryonic plant granules. Two from the original ten missing, having been planted while I had my eyes closed.
How does someone forget planting a potato? There's a breathtaking mass differential between a potato seed and a tomato seed. The potato "seed" is an actual potato.
But that, I suppose, is the beauty of being a boneheaded mystery gardener, a woman completely broken by dirt. Anything that manages to survive is an unexpected bounty.
I live in Canada (Ontario) and our weather has to be pretty simular. Rule of thumb is never plant anything before Victoria Day weekend (on or about May 24). Many times the weather is nice and the temptation arises to plant earlier but you must resist.
ReplyDeleteI had pretty much the same experience my first year in Michigan. I'd planted and nurtured my seedlings in the basement, and as soon as I planted outside the snow came down. The next year as I planted, I also placed stakes in the rows every few feet. I bought sheets of plastic and in late afternoon(while the sun still shone on the garden), for the first couple of weeks, rolled it out to cover the sprouts...worked like a charm.It was an easy, lazy girls way to success.
ReplyDeleteYour garlic scapes look wonderful! I just finished all of mine off the other day and am considering going back to the garden to chop off the little 3-inch stumps that I left on the scapes while I wait for the rest of the plant to die back so I can get at that garlic goodness. :)
ReplyDeleteI have heard of garlic scape but have never actually seen it (or maybe I have but didn't know what I was looking at)....a lesson learned today.
ReplyDeleteI find I do my best gardening when it is accidental.
Love it! (Love garlic scapes too! so glad someone else enjoys them). Enjoy your garden, I with my opposite-of-green-thumb, will enjoy the bounty of my local community supported agriculture farm.
ReplyDeleteWonderful post!! Wasn't around when you took the blog down but so glad it's back up!!
ReplyDeleteThere is a book called "the $64 Tomato" I think you might get a kick out of. God bless us fledgling farmers!
ReplyDeleteThink, garlic scape pesto. It's lovely. You forget to plant potatoes the same way I forgot to plant more onions in another part of the yard. Too much to do, brain is overtaxed....
ReplyDeleteI have never even heard of garlic scape. Are those vines the edible part? How do you prepare it for use in a recipe? My daughter commandeered my tiny backyard this year for squash, zuchinni, tomatoes, herbs, green onions, bell peppers, blackberries, raspberries & strawberries. It has been an amazing experience for city folk like us.
ReplyDeleteThe "scape" is the twining top of a hard necked garlic. Wonderful taste. I sauté them. But hearing of the pesto and scape butter is broadening my horizons too.
ReplyDeleteI mixed the scape with butter and olive oil through the food processor last night. Just need to saute it! Can't wait to give it a go!
ReplyDeleteSeeds are "started" on town meeting day.
ReplyDeleteThe garden is "planted" Memorial Day.
Corn is knee high by the fourth of July.
And a harvest moon really is a harvest moon!
Happy growing!
have you heard of kale chips? yum.
ReplyDeleteYou are correct in assuming those are purple green beans - they look just like mine (except I have a few small beans growing)! :)
ReplyDeleteThat's exactly how I garden! Haha! Everyone else in my family has a green thumb save for me....black sheep don't have thumbs anyway ;)
ReplyDeleteIf you're ever in the market for lovely old, heirloom roses I can give you a very good source in NY (Ithaca).
Oh this was a delight to read. Another not so lucky gardener, diligently giving it her all. Happy for anything that survives! Sometimes my best bounty is what garden sages call "volunteers" planted by birds, or simply blown in.
ReplyDelete