Friday, July 22, 2011

Daylily Delirium

There are about a gazillion different kinds of daylilies.  And if I were a better gardener, I'd know the names of them all.  Unfortunately, I can't seem to keep track of all those itty bitty scraps of paper that are wrapped around the bare root plants I tend to order by the carton.

They do make me happy, however.  They are about the easiest plant in the world to grow, bugs don't eat them, and they seem to tolerate too much water and too little with equivalent resilience.  The only thing that troubles them -- and it's a very big thing -- is deer.  Daylilies are like crack to deer.  Last year we had an incursion just as the daylily blooms were in their most swollen about-to-open state, and the great hooved rats ate every. single. one.  So we're vigilant now and patrol our defenses daily, checking for weak spots.  So far, Mr. Mulch has kept me from using the concertina and claymore mines, but I swear if they eat the daylilies again this year the gloves come off.

In the meantime, it's peak daylily season, and a perfect workout for the new camera.  Here, without further commentary, is a digital bouquet of the wonderful variety now blooming in multiple sites in our garden:

In the front garden







On the hill in the back we have several new daylily beds this year






Mixed with Echinacea and Hydrangea on the ramp up to the vegetable garden


Intense yellow on the path to the seating area






With this kind of beauty to protect, you can see why I'm not terribly fond of four-hooved fur covered pests.  And I do make a mean Bambi bourguignon.  So they should consider themselves warned.






Monday, July 18, 2011

Mealtime

While we're busy defending our vegetable crops from the predations of subscribers to the Insect Informer, there are plenty of other bugs finding sustenance in the flower gardens.  

The good news is that most of the insects that visit our flowers are harmless, and some are actually helpful, spreading pollen and generally holding up their end of that birds and bees business.  Armed with the zoom lens on my new camera, I was able to play bug paparazzi and catch a few of them in moments of unguarded gluttony.

A moth dines on Monarda
The bees love Echinacea to the point where some collect so much, 
they literally fall off in a drunken stupor and lay on the ground until 
they recover enough strength to wobble back to the hive

Here's a honeybee on a Stoke's Aster


Some flowers serve as camouflage for spiders who seem to be cleverly selective in their choice of the brightest, most intensely colored petals to set their traps.  We have a stand of blinding yellow daylilies in the front yard, where I found this guy spinning his web and waiting for room service.

This is NOT Charlotte's Web

Unfortunately, not all florally attracted bugs are benign.  This year's heat has brought with it a record crop of Japanese beetles.  They are offensive in multiple ways.  They're insatiable and eat both the petals and leaves of a broad range of flowers and herbs (they do great damage to my sage in particular).  They're also wanton, and are generally found in pairs, fornicating with abandon even as they devour the very plant that serves as their boudoir.  They're also remarkably hard to kill.  There are special Japanese bug traps that use a scent to lure the not-very-smart insects down into a small trash bag from which there's no escape.  But you need dozens of them to be effective, given the size of this year's population, and we never remember to empty the bag and refresh the lure.  So we resign ourselves to suffering a certain amount of damage and control them to the extent we can by ensuring they've had their last meal whenever we find them. 


Japanese Beetle enjoying his final repast


Watching and recording all this dining activity made me hungry.  And I was more than a little bit envious of the "presentation" to which these insects were treated.  Imagine having your table set with stunning floral arrangements at each and every meal.  Suitably inspired, I went inside to prepare the tuna and white bean salad I had planned for dinner that night.  Let it not be said that bugs eat better -- or prettier -- than my family!



Tuna, White Bean, and Sage Salad, with basil, cucumber and olive garnish.
All veggies and herbs straight from the garden

Granted, it may not have been as colorful a setting as the bugs' backdrop, but what it lacked in hue was made up for with tastiness -- there were no leftovers!

Sunday, July 10, 2011

Recess

This will be a very short post because I want to go outside and play.  With my new toy -- a brand spanking new digital SLR bought in honor of my blog's 4 month birthday.  Well, it's as good an excuse as any, isn't it?

I bought waaaaay more camera than I need or know how to use, but I got tired of blurry pictures with my little digital compact.  When did viewfinders disappear?  My first digital camera had one -- even though it didn't really show what I was framing.  But I've found that I can't hold the camera steady if I have to compose the shot in a 2 inch display held 18 inches in front of my face.  I like an old-fashioned viewfinder, which I can steady against my face, and the only cameras that still have one are single lens reflexes.  Years ago I had an old Canon SLR that I pretended I knew how to use.  My ratio of acceptable to dreadful shots wasn't much better then than now. 

But digital SLRs are an entirely different beast, and the new Canon EOS Rebel T3 that I now hold in my hands is much smarter than I am.  I have only just begun to tap its potential, but I particularly like the "creative automatic" mode, which lets you adjust a single parameter -- aperture, or shutter speed, or white balance, and it automatically figures out the rest.  You can feel creative even though you're really only doing the photographic equivalent of adding the egg to the cake batter.

I've only taken a couple of preliminary shots, but I'm very optimistic.  I've already gotten one I really like.  And even though I know it will bleed over the margin, I'm going to post it extra large.  'Cause it's a pretty cool picture. 


Ehinacea Close Up


More to come, but for now -- I'm off to play with my new toy!





Thursday, July 7, 2011

Peek-a-boo!

Vegetables are coy.  They don't erupt in a burst of color, all dazzling and demanding.  Or send advance notice wafting through the air with an intoxicating odor. They don't strut their stuff like brazen hussies, trying to seduce by sheer force of will. 


Instead, they prefer to be sought out.  Discovered.  They need to be wanted.  So they hide, dangling behind foliage, hidden among broad fuzzy leaves, or curling out of sight on the far side of a bed.  And indeed, they are wanted; that's why we plant them in the first place. Because we know that no matter how close the nearest farmers' market is, there is still nothing fresher or tastier than even the tamest veggie plucked straight from the garden.  So we play hide-and-seek with eggplant, and peek-a-boo with squash, trying to keep track of where the emerging goodies are growing so we don't miss one.


At this point in the season, so much starts to come in so quickly that if we don't mentally catalog everything that's growing, we'll find anything we overlooked three weeks later when it's the size of a tugboat.  Last year a zucchini totally got away from us and by the time we discovered it under the cover of its leaf canopy, it had become a two foot long torpedo. We wound up sneaking it into the back seat of our dinner guests' car as a "memento."  I think they used it as a doorstop until winter, and now they lock their car doors when they come to visit.


So we have to be vigilant as we hit this point in the season -- the moment when the garden's about to explode.  Here's what we're standing watch on this week:

A bevy of purple striped eggplant dangling below the foliage
A bashful white eggplant curled behind a leaf

Cucumbers cleverly camouflaged 
Our first ripe tomatoes waaaaaaay at the bottom of the plant
Bicolor squash snuggled up next to blossoms
Haricots Vert hiding between the beds

I do appreciate the discretion of these veggies.  It means that some skill -- and hunting ability -- is required to harvest them well.  I don't, however, appreciate the fact that the insects in our garden use the same technique -- camouflaging themselves on the plants they are demolishing where we often discover them too late.  Case in point: look who I found eating my sage! 

Well, hello there!


Insects aside, there's little more satisfying than a successful garden expedition, especially  when the result is baskets filled with yummy pickin's, like these:



Squash ready to be sauteed in garlic and olive oil

Haricots vert ready to be blanched and gently simmered in garlic and butter
Lamb-burgers marinated in herbs ready to be eaten with today's haul

A delicious meal and a satisfying end to the day!  

Except, perhaps, for the grasshopper -- who was unceremoniously evicted (but not terminated).


Monday, July 4, 2011

Red, White, and Blue

Happy Fourth of July!


Red: Tiger Lily

White: Climbing Japanese Hydrangea

Blue: Hydrangea Macrophylla
(That I didn't ruin this year -- Hallelulah!!)


And, for the floral equivalent of fireworks, some Monarda!

Monarda in a riotous display
Have a great holiday!

Sunday, July 3, 2011

Sputnik and Musings on Faith

It's been a while since I documented the progress in our vegetable garden -- and there has been plenty of progress, indeed.  The last time I posted a full picture of the garden was on April 22, when we had just set out the first lonely lettuces, and most of the other beds were made, but still virgin.

Garden in a state of readiness
Now, two months later, all that preparation has yielded to bounty, and today the garden looks like this:

Garden in a state of bounty

Vegetables require more faith than flowers, I think.  Perennial flowering plants are independent self-starters once you get them in a spot they like, providing color and excitement with little encouragement as soon as the snow melts.  But veggies require foresight, planning, constant vigilance, and a cooperative climate.  And even then things can go horribly wrong.  More than once we've had a great crop of beans decimated overnight by the lone deer who managed to breach our defenses.  And two years ago an awful tomato blight visited all the plants in our area; we managed to salvage most of our crop by judicious pruning and some chemical assistance (shhh... for tomatoes, it's worth it).

So preparing the vegetable garden each spring for another growing season is truly an act of faith.  And at this point in the season, it appears ours is being rewarded.  Some of the crops we've had trouble with in the past are having a banner year.  I wish I knew why and could bottle it, but I'm happy to simply eat the benefits.  I'm particularly delighted with the kohlrabi, which last year was prevented from reaching maturity by a vicious band of cutworms -- nasty little buggers that chomp through the infant stems of many plants in the brassica family, which includes kohlrabi, broccoli, brussels sprouts, and cabbages.  In short, all the stuff kids won't eat.

But I love kohlrabi.  As much for the way they look as the way they taste.  They look like miniature sputniks from the early space age.  Round globes with antennae-like stems which could just as easily be receiving signals from outer space.  (Or perhaps serving as the internet connection for reporters from the Insect Informer?!)

Kohlrabi ready for harvest
If you find these in the store, they tend to be tough softball sized lumps which defy preparation.  When picked at hardball size however, they have a delicate flavor, halfway between peas and asparagus.  They have many applications.  I've use them peeled and raw, grated fine with carrots in a variation on cole slaw, sliced and blanched, and then sauteed in butter by themselves, or julienned, blanched, and sauteed mixed with sugar snaps.  That's this year's kitchen trend.

Kohlrabi and Sugar Snap peas getting acquainted
All blanched and ready for sauteeing

Speaking of peas, I owe Mr. Mulch an apology for maligning his pea harvest a few posts ago.  I was worried that the early heat would lead to a legume-shortage, but that worry was totally unfounded.  The hot weather did slow them down, but once they got started, they have been very prolific.  We have more than enough to gorge on, and still have plenty to blanche and freeze so we can have a taste of spring deep into next winter. 

No pea shortage after all
Here are some of the other veggies that have rewarded our faith so far this season:

Garlic scapes in abundance, twisting in fanciful curlicues above the cloves.  I use these instead of garlic in sautees, and also to make a wonderful garlic scape bean dip (process 5-6 scapes with some lemon juice, salt, olive oil, and a drained can of white beans -- instant garlic scape hummus!).  Recently we went to a dinner party where the hostess took advantage of their natural curl to use them as wrap-around napkin holders!  They inspire creativity.

Garlic scapes dancing above their cloves
Cucumbers are flowering and sporting teeny fruit.  We should have cukes to eat in another week or so.

Portent of cukes to come
Tomatoes are fruiting, growing, and looking healthy.  I probably shouldn't jinx them, but... no sign of voracious tomato hornworms here so far.  (Shhhh...)


Green tomatoes
We've been cutting and eating chard for several weeks.  It's a very obliging plant, and continues to grow back for more cutting and eating.  Here it is, ready for another round.


Chard ready for the next meal
The eggplant seem to have recovered from the earlier bug attack and are starting to produce -- very small at the moment, but not for long.

An eggplant puppy!
And finally, we have our first squash.  No matter how much room we give them in the bed, they prefer to grow outside.  I guess they like their freedom!

Yellow squash trying to escape
It's at this point in the growing season when we figure out what to have for dinner by going for a stroll in the garden.  As we survey the options, and see that our faith has been rewarded, we feel truly blessed by the bounty of nature (with many thanks to Mr. Mulch).