A Rainy Day

It was a rainy day; the kind of rain that made environmentalists smile, knowing that their rain barrels were more than half full.

It was the kind of rain that was steady; it replenished the groundwater and soaked the lawn and garden without destroying newly planted seedlings.

It was the kind of rainy day that meant open windows because in the absence of wind, the rain came straight down and didn’t invade the screens.

It was a nice rainy day, the kind that Californians crave and Texans might prefer because they could have a little moisture without getting out the rescue boats.

I was a little disappointed to wake up and see this steady precipitation and realize it was going to last all day. I wanted to be outside shoveling topsoil from the Big Pile to the raised bed garden, but shoveling heavy mud mixed with soaked sod is not a good plan. Instead, I’m taking care of indoor chores. Blogging about the rain helps me remember that life is precious and rain is good.

And when I think of all the seeds I put in yesterday, I can smile and remember that a good, steady, soaking rain is exactly when we need to get my garden off to a good start.

 

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Look closely.

We picked out a nice hanging plant for Mother’s Day. Petunia moved it from the hanging hook to a small table for easier access. We don’t know if the new tenants moved in when it was hanging or after she moved it. Look closely: can you see it?

Nature makes a good camouflage.

Nature makes a good camouflage.

Here’s a closer look.

One, two, three, four, five eggs!

One, two, three, four, five eggs!

The mom and dad are finches – house finches, we’re pretty sure. Petunia has been avoiding the porch except for minimal time to water the plants each day. In return, they entertain her as she turns from her computer to look outside.

I can’t wait until they hatch!

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Dandelions? Just a flower out of place.

This encore comes from a pre-rock garden era. The rock garden took the place of the mint pictured here. If I ever plant mint, I’ll do it in a container so it doesn’t take over the world, er, yard. Here you go, folks, an encore presentation: Dandelions.

Have you seen the commercials? The ones that imply that dandelions are evil, nasty, even toxic creatures that intentionally invade your (gulp) Lovely Lawn. The commercials want you to buy their product, of course: the Chemical Killer of Evil Dandelions. Here’s one fighting for its life in the middle of the mint. I predict the mint will win. Mint is a very aggressive plant that doesn’t give up easily.

But chemicals? Expense aside, I don’t need them. I don’t want them on the mint; I might use it in cooking or to mix a mojito. I don’t sweat the dandelions; I use them to offset the high cost of lettuce.

Buttercup loves them.

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Ah, rain.

The rain barrels are not set up yet, and I’m not stressing about it. This steady, ongoing rain is absolutely the right thing for my garden plot right now. It’ll soak the ground and soak it some more so that the soil will be moist and ready when I go to plant.

My seedlings are more than ready to make the move. They’re falling all over each other on the shelves outside the door. Tonight is only the second night I haven’t covered them with plastic; temperatures are finally warming up.

Chuck made a suggestion today that I might take seriously. I’ve been shoveling and carting soil left over from the garage project, aiming to fill the raised beds and then plant. He suggested I fill one or two sections and then plant those areas before I continue shoveling and carting. That has potential. I have two sections that are nearly ready if I follow his rationale. I need to work through a few possible objections first.

What if I misjudge the wheelbarrow and end up running over a precious tomato seedling or burying it? What if…oh, well, what if I somehow screw it up?

I’ll think about this approach. It just might work.

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Gardening Tips I Found Elsewhere

subtitle: And my reaction.

Tip: The next time you boil or steam vegetables, don’t pour the water down the drain, use it to water potted patio plants, and you’ll be amazed at how the plants respond to the “vegetable soup.”

Daisy says: Down the drain? No way. The water left after steaming vegetables becomes part of a soup broth. The water leftover after washing dishes in the sink – now that can water the plants.

Tip: Water in the morning. This will give plants a chance to drink their fill before the sun and warm winds evaporate the moisture. With a morning watering, plant leaves will dry easily with no risk of getting mildewed overnight.

Daisy says: Well, maybe. I prefer watering in the evening. I put on mosquito repellent, hook my watering can under the spigot on a rain barrel, and water section by section at the root of the plants. Only the smallest of plants will get their leaves wet; that’s only a danger when using a sprinkler. With a sprinkler, a large portion of water will evaporate. What a waste!

Tip: “Farm to Table” is a trend that’s past its prime.

Daisy says: What?! Garden to table and farm to table and farm market to freezer are still popular. If the trend isn’t making headlines any more, maybe it’s no longer a trend. Maybe, just maybe, eating fresh and local foods is becoming a habit, not a fad.

Readers, expect more posts like these as I skim the newspaper and the interwebs for gardening ideas. If I find good advice, I’ll pass that on, too. 

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I Love a Parade – encore

From a few years ago – we go to the Memorial Day parade every year. This year, Amigo has a gig with the Barbershop Quartet Chorus. They’ll be singing all patriotic songs, of course, and he’s loving it.

Every year we start Memorial Day by throwing our lawn chairs in Amigo’s bike basket and hitting the road for half a block to stake our claim on a good place to watch the parade. Seriously, it’s half a block from our home. We watch from the front yard, and when the police are putting the traffic barriers up, we head over and park ourselves in the road under our favorite shade tree. Here’s Amigo and MIL cheering on the municipal city band. Chuck? He was relaxing.

Amigo didn’t look excited to see my alma mater march past. Well, at least he applauded.
I tried to get my neighbor’s son in this shot with his baritone – instead, it looks like part of the seventy-six trombone section from Music Man.
And then we went home. Home, to help out our “real live veteran in our front yard,” as Amigo put it. FIL didn’t want to struggle all the way down the street with his walker, so he settled under our mock cherry tree and read a book. We gave him a little flag next to his lawn chair so he could be part of the festivities.
Happy Memorial Day, everyone. May your family members in the services stay safe and return to you soon.

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Attack of the Rhubarb

Or – the rhubarb that took over my kitchen

Or – the day the rhubarb swallowed the world

Or – oh, okay, you get the idea.

I brought up my big strainers with the idea that I’d fill one or both with rhubarb. Hahaha. What was I thinking?

Where's my big white strainer?

Where’s my big white strainer?

I brought the crop inside, and I had to move things off the counter to make room for the huge quantity of the red fruity stalks. This was scary. The rhubarb monster almost covered the coffee pot!

Where's the bread machine?

Where’s the bread machine?

About 40 minutes and two trips to the compost bin later, I had won. I earned this!

I tamed the red menace.

Bwahahahahaha!

Bwahahahahaha!

For my next task: cook it!

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Could be worse.

  • I’m in a nasty standoff with a manipulative, um, client at work.
  • It’s windy enough and cold enough that my plants could die overnight.
  • I didn’t turn the bread machine on before we left to run errands, so I now have to stay up later than usual to get the pizza crust made for tomorrow night’s supper.

Ugh. Let’s see if I can turn this around.

  • The, ahem, client has just been forced to face reality. I’m just the unfortunate target.
  • We covered the seedlings with a clear plastic bag big enough to cover the shelves. I’m pretty sure it was the bag from the mattress we bought for the trundle bed. Why did we keep it? No matter, I’m glad we did.
  • We’re having homemade pizza tomorrow night!

How did that sound? Better? I thought so. Now I’ll grab a refreshing beverage and sit down with my laptop and read blogs until the bread machine beeps.

Could be worse. Could be raining!

 

 

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Squirrels – the wild guerrilla gardeners

Dear Squirrel;

It’s not an even trade. I’m sure you meant well, leaving something behind for me when you nibbled on my garlic scapes, but it wasn’t enough. The little token you left in the basket isn’t edible. I can’t plant it. It’s not even picturesque, but I took a picture anyway.

Ahem.

Ahem.

So hear me now, loud and clear. You, small furry creature, I’m talking to you.

Get out of my garlic, punk.

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Potential – encore

This area no longer exists. About two thirds of it is now garage (concrete slab, at the moment) and the rest is a huge pile of dirt, er, soil. I salvaged enough raspberry canes to start over, but there won’t be a lot of room. Fortunately, Chuck expanded the raised beds for me last year, and I’ve been playing around with container gardening on the deck and around the house. Enjoy the look back.

>A few weeks ago, my garden was just a deep brown color, waiting for seeds and seedlings. Now it has little hints of green here and there.

Peas and beans! The peas already look healthier than they did a year ago.

Cauliflower and (maybe) broccoli emerge, seeking sun and water.

But the bunny food section? I must get those maple tree seeds out of this area. It’s a lettuce bed, not a helicopter pad!

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