Hodge Podge of Observations

The first time we put a crop in the ground we always learn some lessons about how not to plant it, or how best to harvest, or how not to harvest it, etc. When it came to lettuce, we pulled some early plants to thin the rows and put them into salads along with fresh green onions and just-picked broccoli. Then we pulled some some grown heads before we discovered that lettuce is best harvested by cutting the head off at the ground.

Having cut the last two heads, the root-stump remaining has, in each case, sprouted five new heads. Oddly, both stumps have sprouted five heads each, although they are different varieties of romaine lettuce.

How Our Lunch Became Dirt

All last summer, grass clippings, leaves, and the contents of the kitchen counter compost bin went into the outdoor bin. (The kitchen-counter bin takes all the vegetable scraps we create making meals, bread products, coffee grounds and filters and the like -- rather than throw them into the pay-to-throw trash. )

Somewhere around the Autumnal Equinox (Sept. 22 or so) I shut that bin down and started a second winter bin. The summer bin was chock full of grass, newspaper strips, and the aforementioned stuff, full to the top. Aerated occasionally over the winter, it had been cooking all summer and was left to finish off for six months.

Last weekend I began to clear out the bin. It was only about half full, now, but instead of leaves and grass and coffee grounds we had lovely rich compost. New soil, in a word.

The summer bin has produced about 1o gallons so far, and should make a similar amount when I finish cleaning it out. Soon, around the solstice at the end of June, we will let the winter bin cook and start filling the summer bin.

The winter bin only needs to cook for three or four months over summer due to the heat; in fall we will clean it out, reopen it, and close the summer bin for six to nine months.

It all seems like a lot of work, but it isn't. And by putting much of our compostable rubbish back onto the earth here at home, rather than sending it to a landfill, we add to the nutrients of our yard.

>Ploink!< Summer Arrived Monday, Alright

Speaking of things going crazy in the in the backyard -- as I was earlier this very afternoon -- all sorts of plants have taken off. The water lily went from a surprise bud to full bloom from Sunday to Tuesday. Here is Sunday:

Here is Tuesday afternoon:

The apples have begun to bloom too. From the mearest green of buds to opening blooms in just two days:

Even the fig has sprouted, growing many new and many larger leaves seemingly over night -- and not to be outdone by the apples, has shown the first pencil-eraser sized fruit :

Bees, Berries and Brocolli Blooms

Cleaning up little chores around the yard, several interesting Observations to make. With the greatest of anticipation, I noticed this past weekend that the boysenberries mentioned and photographed last week are now in full bloom, and the busy backyard bees have thrown over the broccoli blooms for berries. Here are two pictures from Sunday, May Eve.

The bottom of the barrel fell out when we last moved the berries here, and I have hopes for many years worth of suckers to populate the area just over our back fence -- for a yummy summer snack for us and to provide a surprise for anyone who happens to decide to vault our fence. (Wicked grin.)

If you look very closely at the berry blossom closeup picture at left you will be able to see two of the many bees at work for us. These bees are very mellow, and let me pick broccoli and take pictures up close without taking any notice at all.

UPDATE Tuesday, May 2

The yard, apparently sensing the May Day activities, has kicked into full speed ahead: Yesterday's full bloom berries have become, instead, today's first green berries. Look very closely at the "dead" flowers and you can see what the bees have wrought in just two days time . . .

In the Merry Month of May

Warm first day of summer weather this last weekend of April and today, May Day. (Fog this morning after a balmy evening.)

All the growing food that was just sprouted last week is well up, well flowered, growing and going where it needs to be. With a couple of exceptions: The watermelons have not sprouted at all, so I have little hope for them; the basil is almost all gone dead or dying, with one or two runty plants struggling along. Oh yes, and some cursed critter ate all my sunflower sprouts a few days after they sprouted.

Sigh.

I think we will start some new sunflowers in a tray and transplant them only when they can withstand the onslaught of the snails and other critters.

For organic controls we will try the traditional bowl o'beer (to drown the snails and our sunflower sorrows in) along with some organic bacteria called BT, and maybe a pod of Good Snails. (Although the UC Davis folk say even Good Snails eat seedlings. Sigh. )

At least one site suggests a spray made of garlic to repel slugs and snails, so maybe we will do an experiment along those lines too.

Hal an tow

This is, of course, the day which marks the Start of Summer for most northern European traditions; it is, not incidentally, also the "quarter day" upon which contracts came due, lease payments, taxes, wages etc. It just happens to be about halfway between the Vernal Equinox (~March 21) and the Summer Solstice (~June 21).

Traditional celebrations would have included all night celebrations outside of town last night, May Eve, with morning seeing the revelers return bedecking the themselves and others with May flowers.

It is a large gripe of mine that the Summer Solstice is NOT the start of summer, as it is usually termed on news shows and even some calenders. It is the MIDDLE of summer; indeed, the traditional Midsummer's Day is June 24, St. Stephens day.

So, while I am out quietly celebrating the greening of the world, with a nod to the Greenman on the wall, and debating whether I can convince our two oldest to dance a Maypole in the back yard (grin), the cycle keeps turning -- no matter what we call it.

Hal an tow

Jolly lum-a-low

We were up, long before the day-o

To welcome in the summer,

To welcome in the May-O

For Summer is i-cummin in,

And Winter's gone away-O.

-- Traditional Maying Song

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And so, to all a Merry May! Perhaps this evening it will be a good time to bring a bottle of the Fall Cider up from the basement and see if it has gone drinkable yet.