Fruit from the Vine

The first Brandywines of the season were ready this morning--well, perhaps they were ready a few days ago. I couldn't resist an early morning taste, so I dug into the largest tomato, which was, unsurprisingly, the first to appear on the vine a couple months ago.

Here's a quick summary of the "tasting":

Appearance: Some pulls in the skin and a few over-ripened areas. The former are likely the result of sporadic watering early on and then the deluge of rain the last few weeks--another lesson learned for late-season tomato tending.

Smell: Beautiful, zesty earthiness of a fresh tomato. Sweetness apparent.

Taste: Wonderfully sweet, with a balanced earthiness and a bit of smokiness. These two tastes taken together may be what others describe as the "wine-like" quality of the aptly named Brandywine, but I'll need a few more to confirm this conclusion.

Mouthfeel: While a few pieces were over-ripened by a great deal, the texture of the fruit is perfect. Firm enough to hold together when cut, yet delicate and soft.

Eat-ability: While these first two pickin's aren't blue ribbon quality in appearance, the taste is divine. I definitely see a tomato sandwich in my future this afternoon.

Bon appetit!

-Chauncey

Before and After, Encore!

It's funny to think back to early spring and remember my impatience with the tomato seedlings. As these before and after pics reveal clearly, all good things come to those who wait. Hillbilly Potato Leaf, Nygous, and the Black from Tula seedlings all have some fruit and have been fertilized for the last time this season.

Enjoy all the interior shot of the garden (far left). Best practice/lesson learned for next year: Space tomatoes 3' rather than 2' apart.

Cottage Gardens

Cottage gardens combine both productivity and beauty, and, as we've seen this summer, bunnies. Some new shots from the late-summer garden. Enjoy the bounty!

The Bun Identity

Young Mr. Bun has become quite comfortable out back, affording me all sorts of great photo opportunities. Take a look at the second photo and note the way that Mr. Bun's fur glistens in the sunlight. What do you say, ladies? Edward, Jacob, or Mr. Bun?

Before and After

Now Chauncey is a good person, and he believes in using Nitrogen responsibly. But last week (well, 10 days ago), he fertilized the tomatoes with a small per/plant dose of a basic 10-10-10 fertilizer. Hopefully, this application doesn't hasten the end times, but as you can clearly see in these before and after pictures, the fertilizer is hastening the tomatoes. Per tomato-wrangler custom, one additional treatment will be given when the fruit begins to set. But that's it! No more.

All plants to the left were in-house seedlings--yep, hand raised and bottle fed. 10 days ago they were just over a foot tall; now, the largest, in the sunniest spots, are pushing 3'. Nothing like a little sunshine, rain, and nitrogen cocktail to get the party started.

Additionally, you find some pics of new and old garden friends. (And, no, Young Master Bun has not been dipping into the fertilizer. That's the original Mr. Bun from earler in the season.)

Note: Blogger has issues with picture order for some reason. The before picture has smaller plants; the after picture has larger plants.

Second Photo Set Supports Local Crackpot's Claims

There wasn't much going on at alt.conspiracy.rec.org today, so I decided to spend some time lounging in the back, my trusty camera always by my side. The humidity had finally broken, so I was happy to laze the day away, alternately napping and admiring the wind blowing through the trees.

At one point during my drifting, I was called back to consciousness by the unmistakable sound of beet shoots and clover being chomped by wee, yet relentless jaws. Sure enough, I awoke only to find myself face to face with the 8 ounce bunny that has been unmercifully terrorizing my backyard.

A number of readers doubted my claims about Young Master Bunny, but, with this new photographic evidence, it is clear that we can no longer keep our heads in the sand on this issue.

Upon close analysis, the photos below suggest that he is now 9 ounces and exceptionally fleet of foot for a bunny of roughly 7 weeks of age. This is exactly how it starts, so don't say that Chauncey didn't warn you.

Heaven help us all. -C

Staking Tomatoes

Chauncey fans will recall that my Pink Brandywine, the sickest looking of my nursery-bought seedlings, and the most temperamental heirloom variety in the garden, is flourishing above all others.

Over the past week, lower shoots have become heavy enough to fall over, so it was obviously time to tie these leads to the stake. This is all the more timely, as all the shoots are full of blossoms and will hopefully be heavy with tomatoes in the near future.

I used a somewhat thicker-gauge twine for the ties, which will hopefully not dig into the plants. To avoid the danger of the twine digging into the plant, a lot of old-time tomato growers will actually use cloth cut into strips for tying off.

The point of this is of course to support the fruit, but also to keep the plants moving ever-skyward--a lesson from the garden that we should take to heart in our daily lives.

Chauncey out.

Fruit on the Vine

The first tomatoes and peppers have been sighted in the garden, and here it is only the Fourth of July. That's just the way Chauncey rolls!

Below you'll see some Poblano Peppers, along with some Pink Brandywine and Green Zebra tomatoes. Pink Brandywines are often slow to pollinate, so much so that people have been know to use electric toothbrushes, and other contraptions, to massage the blooms to hasten the process. Fortunately, it looks as though my electric toothbrush will be staying indoors this season.

Here's to a bountiful harvest!

Tomatoes!

As of last week, all the tomatoes have been planted:

1 Pink Brandywine

1 Green Zebra

1 Yellow Pear

1 Black from Tula

4 Hillbilly Potato Leaf

3 Nygous

As you can see in the left-hand picture, the nursery plants are doing quite well. The Pink Brandywine is already 3' and all have blossoms already.

The seedlings held up to transplanting well. If they're anything like the nursery plants, they be relatively quiet for 7-10 days while they establish roots. After this, fingers crossed, they should spring up quickly!

Nature's Hideous Progeny

Apologies for the radio silence! Chauncey has been a bit under the weather lately and much of his gardening time has been spent trying to outsmart deer who have been grazing in the front yard. An entire bed of day lilies, just about to bloom, was lost in a single night. These flowers must be like deer candy, as there is obviously plenty of other things to eat in the neighborhood. Fortunately, after some research, it seems that Flowering Cherry Trees are "deer resistant." I'm in the process of acquiring such a tree and plan to dig up the rest of the beds when feeling better.

In other pest news, we had a palm-sized visitor in the garden this morning--yes, actually in the fenced-off garden. What could possibly get inside the poultry-wired plot? An 8 ounce bunny, of course! The photo above is a tad on the Loch-Ness-monster side, I realize, but I can assure that Mr. Baby Bun does exist. And, as the second photograph clearly attests, he likes beets. Smart bunny.

Making Strides in the Veggie Garden

With a recent visit from Tundra Gardener and a number of other work-related items keeping me busy, I'm afraid that I've been neglecting the electronic documentation of my real life gardening accident.

Here are some recent shots from the veggie garden. You'll notice that the Pink Brandywine (far right corner), which has the sunniest plot in the garden, is doing quite well and already over 2.5' high.

Doesn't take much sun to bake the clay soil to an unappealing light-reddish brown, but clearly aesthetics are not a priority here. (Well, almost. See subsequent post about Zinnias...)

I'm hoping to plant the heirloom seedlings (above) sometime this week after they have been hardened off. Fingers crossed that its not too late for some productivity!

Garden Center Score!

I was able to get away to a local garden center out in the exurbs, and, not surprisingly, this place was better stocked than anything nearer the city.

I was able to acquire three heirloom tomatoes: Pink Brandywine (known for it wine-like flavor and low yields), a Green Zebra (known for its beautiful coloring and zesty flavor), and a Yellow Pear (known for productivity and spicy, sweet flavor).

My heirloom seedlings are coming along better now that I have rigged up a florescent light (more later), but I wanted to stack the deck, so to speak, and ensure a bountiful tomato harvest with a few store-bought ringers.

Also in the haul:

Peppers: Tobasco, Jalapeno, and California.

Herbs: Sweet Basil, Genovese Basil, Cat Nip, Cilantro, Parsley, and Rosemary.

I'll try to plant everything early the week, after I've hardened off the tomatoes for a few days.

Being There, In the Garden

This week from the what the h^ll is this file:

Vegetable Garden

Now that the rain has finally stopped, I took the morning to put the finishing touches on the vegetable garden. I used 3' poultry wire dug about 10" into the ground to keep out any enterprising intruders. The space looks a bit small in these photos, but it's about a 10X10' plot that should offer ample room for tomatoes, peppers, herbs, beets, and a few pie pumpkins.

As I may have mentioned before, this plot was taken up entirely by day lilies, which were absolutely nightmarish to dig out. I suspect that they are the garden equivalent of IKEA furniture. You start with just one piece, thinking that so long as it's only one, the choice is elegant and tasteful. Of course, bat an eye and you have an entire MALM bedroom set or, worse, 100 square feet of day lilies.

As I'm not a mature adult, I will pause to mention the 8" tall varmint (pictured above) that made all this work necessary.

Tomatoes

Well, we are officially beyond the last anticipated, worst-case scenario frost date, so it's time to start thinking about getting some vegetables into the ground. I've nearly completed clearing and fencing the garden space (more to come), and this afternoon I finally got around to transplanting my heirloom tomato seedlings.

Tomatoes are unique as they can develop roots at any point along their stalks. When transplanting initial seedlings after they reach a height of 2 inches, it's best to bury the seedling nearly to the first set of actual leaves to shock the plant into developing a larger root system.

As you can see, my seedlings are a bit behind--they're apparently late bloomers, so to speak, just like Chauncey. In any case, I'm hopeful that after this transplant, the warmer temperatures and increased sunlight will bring them quickly to planting heights (i.e., 9-12 inches)

Not a bad turn out: 5 Hillbilly Potato Leaf, 4 Nyagous, and 1 Wapsipinicon Peach. (I have about 4 Black from Tula's also, but I wanted to give these another day or two before transplanting.)

Iris Cont'd

Giant Iris (Iris Giganticaerulea) have officially arrived on the scene in the bulb gardens. As you can see, there are a number of vibrant examples of this species, adding welcome splashes of color and height.

One of my favorite things about gardening is learning interesting stories about plant origins and hybrid development. It's always exciting, and somewhat humbling, to imagine the sheer expanse of seasons, years, and labor that went into creating our now "garden variety" plants.

The story of the Giant Iris does not disappoint. Unbeknownst even to many avid gardeners, the Giant Iris is actually named for the French-born wrestler, Andre the Giant (Andre Rene Roussimoff). In the later years of his career, Roussimoff would often escape to his beloved country estate, La Quinta Monstruo, on the island of Malta. Apparently, the great wrestler had relished the contemplative solitude of gardening since childhood, and he now focused his life-long passion on a more specific horticultural pursuit: the development of various hybrid bulbs.

The Mediterranean climate was well suited for this work, and Roussimoff produced many lesser-known successes, including Giant Minature Daffodils (Narcissus Asturiensis Giagantium) and Giant Grape Hyacinth (Muscari Comosum Gigantium). These unique varieties were clearly far ahead of their time, and thus never found a spot within the bulb marketplace.

However, fortunately for us all, the Giant Iris in all its colorful variety has become a staple in bulb gardens the world over. For that, we must thank the gentle giant. Here's to you, big fella.