Final 2017 Blog Post

Click on Image to Enlarge
 Our Pollinator Potager, well and truly put to bed
for the winter  ...  but the rabbits are with us still  : )

Spring of 2017 found me making plans to add fruits, vegetables and herbs to my still developing pollinator perennial garden in our own variation of a French potager. It also found me making what has proved to be a huge decision to blog my progress.

As mid-December approaches, our pollinator potager is well and truly bedded down for the winter; and with that, it seems only appropriate to end the first year of my garden blogging experience with a wrap up of how the experiment panned out and what I learned in the process.

The journey began in the cool soggy month of March, when I kept myself warm indoors researching traditional French potagers and the best vegetables and herbs to incorporate into our compact urban garden.

Space, or lack thereof, and a sparing amount of full-sun seemed to dictate that root vegetables and peppers be grown in pots above ground on the patio, tomatoes would reside on the sunny front porch, and herbs would live in the boxes hanging from the front porch railing to be easily accessible for regular picking. Strawberries and lettuces would need to be in the semi-shade of the tree and raised off the ground to keep them safe from rabbits.

In a tangible gesture of commitment to the venture ahead, I set up my new Blogger account, blog template, and Google email. I also outlined the motivation for and parameters of my project, and in a burst of practicality, purchased the perfect pair of previously worn gardening boots from a thrift store. Then, even before the weather outdoors became habitable, I jumped right in, posting the first two of many blog posts.

Springtime brought a proliferation of proverbial showers that encouraged early garden bloomers, including crocus and dandelions; and, I learned how important they are to the sustenance of pollinating insects. With pollinator education in mind I created a butterfly & bees version of Tic-Tac-Toe for the front garden, in a successful attempt to convince a six-year-old granddaughter that bees needn't be feared.

The glorious perennials often drew me out to the muddy garden just as traditional potagers were designed to do; thus, early preparations were quickly accomplished as I expanded my horizons and began to grow as a gardener. I quickly became engrossed in the gardening process and included my granddaughters whenever possible: Together, we planted, transplanted, weeded, encouraged and anticipated during weeks filled with introductions, introspection, reminiscing and celebration.

My husband, Doug, a casual participant to begin with but always willing to help when needed, became an integral part of the Pollinator Potager Project team, and gradually learned more about potagers than even he'd intended. Together, we constructed a useful greenhouse window from recycled materials in a wasted space over our kitchen sink, erected a simple 16-foot-long decorative fence to deter human trespassers, constructed a flagstone path from front to side garden, and created beautiful double-sided blog business cards; and, while Doug successfully alternated between much needed devil's advocate and devoted garden assistant, he never missed an opportunity to champion my blogging endeavour.

July's fabulous weather and busy schedule really kept us hopping; and, an unexpected Hamilton Spectator feature article about our garden, written by Rob Howard and photographed by Barry Gray, provided a thrilling boost to our flagging energy. Participation in the Hamilton Spectator's Open Garden Week tours introduced us to many like-minded gardeners who offered advise, support and much appreciated praise.

From this mid-point in the season, we found ourselves reflecting, back to the beginning while eagerly anticipating the glorious harvest still to come. As the summer progressed, though, dealing with: deep-root watering issues, tomato Hornworms (a garden pest we'd never heard of or seen before) and mutated cucumbers, caused some concern. Rather than dwelling on the minor problems, though, I embraced the optimistic perspective of my young protégé: I rejoiced in the beautiful weather, helped my mother purchase a covered swing for the porch, recycled stumps found by the side of the road, and enjoyed the frequent pollinators who came our way.

Our eventual harvest yielded: 10 lbs of small Red Pontiac potatoes, 9 Spanish onions, 1 large sweet green pepper, 11 hot mini red peppers; bunches of Rainbow Swiss chard, 1 carrot, several dozen tomatoes of various varieties, chives, parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme. A meager harvest, for sure; but, we gracefully accepted our home-grown bounty as it came, eating some straight from the garden and storing the rest for use over the winter months.

Making tomato sandwiches of fruit picked fresh from our own vines gave me the biggest delight of the season. Tomatoes have always been a favourite of mine, especially local garden-grown; however, the enjoyment of a potager-fresh tomato sandwich, this year, made up for most gardening hardships we'd encountered.

I am grateful for my sister's gardening knowledge, of which she shared freely and upon which I leaned heavily. I did, admittedly, fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants more often than I care to admit; making mistakes through over-eagerness and experimentation when I should have adhered to Jennifer's easy-going-but-more-by-the-book style of gardening. My inquisitive nature did, however, bring about healthy potatoes grown in plastic laundry baskets and deep-root watered tomatoes, less afflicted with bottom end rot than last year's failures.

As colder weather approached, I found myself taking stock of lessons learned, including, but not limited to:
- Buying seed from amateur gardeners is a chancy proposition 
- Seeding lettuces indoors isn't worth the effort 
- Birds and rabbits will make off with anything left unprotected
- Some humans are inherently lazy; but most are amazing, and
- Children and seniors are great potager protégés

I also found myself rushing to apply finishing touches to my garden decor, withering plants and depleted soil as weather predictions became dicey. In addition to covering the garden with six large bags of mulched leaves, I dried and bagged harvested herbs, planted garlic cloves, and created a rain-water collection garden by the downspout. 

The arrival of the first heavy snow ended - externally at least - The Pollinator Potager Project for this current gardening season; and so, with sincere thanks to family members, friends and neighbours; a newspaper, editor, writer and photographer; generous givers, sharers, advisers and admirers; and of course my faithful blog readers; I share this, my final 2017 blog post.

I hope you'll look for me again in the spring of 2018, when the snow melts and mother nature once again shares her gifts and her glory. Until then, live well and grow strong.

Two Peas in a Potager

Click on Image to Enlarge

Each December, for more than 30 years, I've added a new ornament to our holiday tree, to supplement old family keepsakes: Special ornaments usually commemorate new additions or losses in our family, special occasions, or give voice and vision to our family dynamic.

Since Doug and I married in 2010, and he became an important part of our family, we have continued the tradition, occasionally adding Doug and Nancy ornaments for our 1st and 5th holiday's together, and one last year from Doug, himself - just because.

This year, I've chosen a special ornament to celebrate the end of our year-long gardening experience. The store sample, which read, "Two Peas in a Pod," immediately made me think, "Two Peas in a Potager." It's a cute little play on words, and an appropriate His & Hers ornament for our 2017 tree.

With that in mind, I'd like to wish new and faithful blog readers, a happy holiday season and a very happy new [gardening] year to come! With warmest wishes from Doug and I - the two peas in The Pollinator Potager Project ornament, shown above!

Leaf Mulch

Click on Image to Enlarge
Six Bags of Leaves
in Our Van for Mulching

In the early summer, my husband, Doug, bought us a leaf vacuum, blower and mulcher, on sale. This autumn, when the leaves started falling from our Little Leaf Linden Tree, out came the gadget, making swift work of the leaf mulching process.

The  mulched leaves were placed in large plastic trash cans, for storage and use in the garden once a heavy frost had come upon us, or so I thought; however, when I went looking for the finely mulched leaves, I discovered that Doug - while sorting and tidying the garage and driveway - had put the mulch out for the compost pick-up with the garbage.

Clearly, we'd had a communication failure as to the use intended for the mulched leaves, and I was left with a need for more.

I posted a message on Facebook, asking if anyone had bags of leaves ready for city pick-up that I could acquire - to no avail. Yesterday, however, while driving through our neighbourhood, I spotted six leaf bags at the curb waiting for the next morning's pick-up. I went back to the house after supper; and, getting no answer at the stranger's door, hoisted the cast-off bags into the back of our van.

By mid-day, today, Doug had already mulched two of the bags of leaves which I intend to start spreading on the garden over the next few days; happily, hubby and I are back on the same page again, thanks to more effective communication, a little ingenuity, and teamwork.

C-c-c-cold Weather

Click on Image to Enlarge
Snow on the Ground and Frozen
Water in the Bird Bath on this
First Truly Chilly Day of Autumn

Just as weather reports had been predicting; high winds, cold temperatures and snow descended upon us overnight.

Luckily, I'd been spending a couple of hours each day over the last week-and-a-half finishing up work in my garden - putting everything to bed, so to speak.

To that end:

• I've moved and replanted perennials that weren't already in perfect locations
• Scattered seeds from existing Coneflower, Black-Eyed Susan, and Wild Columbine plants
• Found planting locations for large yellow Crocus bulbs and Pink Sunrise Muscari bulbs
• Stored organic garden soil from above ground pots, and
• Packed away garden whimsy, planting baskets, plastic cloches, a bee and butterfly watering station, and deep watering spikes and pop bottle reservoirs.

I've also:

• Organized my garden tools and shed
• Labelled new and relocated plants until I can plot them on my computerized chart
• Harvested last minute crops, and
• Protected my plants with mulched leaves.

I still intend to do some detailed measuring of the front and side plots in order to update my computer program, but that can be completed during the colder weather if I'm well bundled up; and, we still have to figure out where to store my mom's front porch three-seat covered swing.

So, with all of my major fall tidy-up projects completed, I wasn't too upset to see the snow on the ground and frozen water in the bird bath, this morning; and, though I've never been a fan of c-c-c-cold weather, at least I believe my garden is mostly prepared to face the winter soon to come.

Our Pepper Project

Click on Image to Enlarge
Home-Grown Orange, Yellow and Red
Peppers on a Plate

This summer we planted three varieties of sweet bell pepper seeds. Only one pepper - an orange one - grew to normal size. The others ripened and delightfully changed colour, but remained appetizer sized.

When frost threatened, I brought the pepper plants indoors to complete their ripening but they didn't respond well to the climate change. So, we tried eating them.

Oh, my goodness!

The small red peppers were not sweet as we'd thought: They were in fact, hot - incredibly spicy hot peppers - grown from seeds that were obviously mislabeled. As I write this, my mouth and the eye I mistakenly rubbed are still reacting, and not in a good way.

Next, we tried the small yellow peppers, and found the under-developed fruit unpleasantly bland - neither sweet nor hot - so, we discarded them.

The fully formed orange bell pepper - our only one, unfortunately - proved quite sweet and tasty. It's really too bad that only one of them developed.

All in all, the colourful plants sure prettied up our garden; and, though our pepper project might appear to have been somewhat unfruitful, we did manage to grow some spicy-hot red peppers that will be threaded and hung to dry for flavouring of foods later on.

I will, however, have to wear gloves to process the peppers any further: I can still feel the burn every time I touch my fingers to my lips, even after washing my hands several times.

Rain Collection Garden

Click on Image to Enlarge
Seed Box and Wild Blue Iris
Getting Established in Our
New Rain Water Collection Garden

Since the city mandated the disconnection of urban downspouts from the combined sewer system in our neighbourhood, we've been challenged with the dilemma of how to diffuse and use the rainwater that pours down from the ample roof of our house.

This fall, I'd also been wondering where I should winter over my moisture-loving plants: A couple of newly acquired Seed Box and a Wild Blue Iris that had summered in my bird bath.

So, this week, armed with left-over river-rock and broken flagstones, I set about to construct a downspout water collection garden.

It's just a beginning but a pretty nice beginning, none-the-less. This new rain collection garden will likely be enlarged in the coming spring and summer, providing habitat for other plants requiring a more a moister and another water source for pollinating insects. 

If the next growing season is as rain-laden as this past year has been, my new rain water collection garden will have been well worth the effort.

Click on Image to Enlarge
Wild Blue Iris, Summering
in our Bird Bath

Planting Garlic

Click on Image to Enlarge
Garlic Purchased This Summer

This summer, husband Doug and I visited several gardens on the Hamilton Spectator Open Garden Week tours. One of them was an extensive multifunctional garden in rural Canfield, where we discovered the friendly homeowners also grew and sold garlic.

While there, we purchased a large bunch of garlic for a pretty reasonable price and brought it home for use in our cooking. The garlic has turned out to be as delicious as we were told it would be, and is quite decorative on one of my greenhouse window shelves in the kitchen.

This fall, I researched the trick to growing healthy garlic: Plant good quality garlic cloves, root side down, 2" apart, in rich well-drained soil, just 2" under the surface; then mulch. 

That one can begin the process of growing garlic, so late in the year, is quite exciting: Specifically, fall planting of garlic allows for maturation and harvest as early as mid-July.

Whoo, hoo!

The process seemed straight-forward enough; and, as I was in possession of excellent root stock, I decided to give growing my own garlic a try.

I decided to spread out my garlic plants amongst my perennials in the sunny part of my front garden - Seven cloves (just one head - it's an experiment, after all) in seven separate 10" diameter by 12" deep holes, filled with well-drained soil recycled from my beet and broccoli plants earlier in the year.

My present concern - that squirrels might dig up the cloves when I'm not looking - will hopefully be averted by reemployment of plastic Dollar Store cloches and mulch, the latter of which should also protect the bulbs from freezing temperatures over the winter.

I'll have to be careful to apply high-nitrogen fertilizer in the spring, add mulch to replace decomposed moisture protection, cut off early flower stalks (if present) that compete for nourishment, and remove all mulch in June when the plants begin to form their bulbs.

With luck and careful attention, though, I hope my garlic experiment will be a happy success!

Harvesting Herbs

Click on Image to Enlarge

This summer I grew herbs in two flower boxes hanging from a shelf on our front porch: Parsley, sage, rosemary & thyme - just like the song - and chives. I chose the location to allow easy access even in inclement weather.

But as cold weather approached, I realized I had to think about what would become of the remaining herbs; and the obvious choice was to harvest and dry them for later use in the kitchen - all but the parsley (compost) and chives (vegetable crisper). 

Harvesting herbs is an easy task as their root system is pretty shallow. I simply pulled the plants out of the soil and cut off the roots. When I took them in the house, I tied each herbs stems together with colourful twine and hung them to air dry.

The fragrant herbs are now bagged and ready for use in cooking over the long winter months. I anticipate that homegrown will be tastier than dried store-bought; and healthier, too.

As an interesting side-note:

I've learned that herbs are an important garden plant for pollinating insects. They're useful for sustenance as well as pest prevention.

So, next spring, I'm planning to plant even more herbs, in the planter boxes and beyond.

Swiss Chard

Click on Image to Enlarge
Some of my Rainbow Swiss Chard

I really liked the idea of growing my vegetables from seed; although, many of my seedlings did not transplant successfully or produce well.

Several varieties of lettuce that I seeded indoors - leaf lettuce, romaine and kale - didn't do well when I moved them outside. Most likely I let them get too leggy before transplanting; however, my Swiss Chard - a rainbow variety - purchased from a local garden centre, did very well in a raised pot.

My youngest granddaughter discovered she liked eating Swiss chard right off the plant and straight from the garden: Interesting child, she also likes arugula the same way.

Lacking lettuce or kale to supplement the chard in a salad, though, I was at a loss as to how to use up the prolific vegetable. Then my friend, Rita, offered me her tried and true Swiss chard recipe. Easy enough: 

"Saute the chard in oil, garlic and fresh herbs; then spread on toast and top with a poached egg."

Delicious!

So, I sauteed the last of my rainbow Swiss chard in the prescribed manner and froze individual-sized portions on slips of parchment for use during the deep freeze of winter; hopefully, I'll be able to convince a 6-yr-old that cooked Swiss chard is as appealing as raw.

Braided Onions

Click on Image to Enlarge
My Braided Spanish Onions

I learned about braiding onions many years ago, when I first read the Little House on the Prairie stories.

Carolyn Ingalls, known as "Ma" in the books, braided the stems of the onions she grew in her garden and hung them in the attic for winter storage and easy access. 

"Onions were made into long ropes, braided together by their tops, and then were hung in the attic beside wreaths of red peppers strung on threads."
- Laura Ingalls Wilder, Little House in the Big Woods

The idea was that onions could be cut off the braids from bottom to top, as needed.

In August, this year, I was reminded of the braiding practice when I visited a garlic farm where they had hung their crop to dry in a similar way. So, when my small experimental Spanish onions were ready for harvest, I set about to give onion braiding a try.

Now, I've been braiding for many years, a skill first learned in Brownies and Girl Guides, and perfected over the years braiding the hair of three daughters and two granddaughters; therefore, braiding onion stems proved to be a snap.

My braided onions, just one small braid this year, are dried and hanging in my kitchen, ready for use. It's a special full-circle occasion for me: The growing and storing of vegetables in the same manner as the pioneers of yesteryear in general, and "Ma Ingalls" in particular.

Meager Harvest

Click on Image to Enlarge
A Meager But Edible Harvest

With frost warnings approaching, I decided to harvest the last of my green tomatoes, one of few remaining carrots, and my Spanish onions.

It's a meager harvest, but edible none-the-less; and, one that doesn't include the strawberries, tomatoes, and potatoes harvested earlier or the sweet bell peppers that are still ripening on our front porch.

Next year, I intend to increase my harvest by planting more of what grew well in my small urban environment: Eliminating plants that failed to produce in any meaningful way or proved incompatible with our growing environment.

Winter, of course, will be the time for further research and reflection; although I already know that potatoes and tomatoes will be foundation vegetables and fruits in my Potager next year.  

That said, our meager harvest doesn't feel like a disappointment: For me, at least, this summer has been a great learning experience and tremendous fun. I can't help but look forward to next year.

MHHS Member

Click on Image to Enlarge
MHHS Facebook Logo

My pollinator potager project has instilled a love of gardening in me that I hadn't really expected; that said, other than during the Hamilton Spectator Open Garden Week tours in July, I haven't had much opportunity to share my new-found interest with other like-minded people.

Craving gardening camaraderie, I began a search for a gardening assemblage of which I could become a part; and, after testing out two separate group’s meetings, I found one that drew me in, quite literally.

The Mount Hamilton Horticultural Society (MHHS), recommended by a member whose garden I toured in July, turned out to be exactly what he described, and more: They were open to like-minded gardeners, young and old; welcoming of new or potential members, like myself; educational, with a varied program, planned more than a year in advance; giving of individual and group knowledge; sharing, through activities like monthly mini plant sales, gardening and photo contests, and prizes; and connected to District, and Provincial (Ontario Horticultural Association) umbrella organizations.

Following that successful trial meeting where I enjoyed Kathy Spiwak's splendid PowerPoint presentation about shade gardens, I contacted MHHS President Claire Kostyshyn to join the group and buy tickets for my husband and I to attend the upcoming Gala Dinner. On meeting Claire and her husband Stephen for the second time and touring their lovely |en conifer garden, I felt in my bones that becoming a MHHS member was a good fit for me.

The Mount Hamilton Horticultural Society has been a thriving entity for 90 years, now; and, with some 135 members it shows no signs of fatigue. I’m really looking forward to what the next year has in store for me and my little pollinator potager project, and for my new fellow society members and their gardens too.

Global Warming

Click on Image to Enlarge
Our Forsythia Bush Blooming in October

There's been a lot of conversation over, at least, the last decade about global warming; and, much dissension lately about whether it's a real phenomenon or "fake news."

Scientists believe that planet earth is almost at the point of no return, regarding global warming; but, world leaders seem unwilling or unable to unite behind the mounting scientific data.

For me, a forsythia bush blooming in my garden during the first week of October has reinforced my personal belief that global warming is likely very serious.

I won't know until spring whether my forsythia bush will flower again when it's supposed to, or whether its blooming confusion has caused permanent harm. Similarly, we won't know for sure if global warming is at the point of no return until our planet is on the verge of irreparable disaster.

With that in mind, we must continue to apply pressure to those with the political clout and financial wherewithal to change laws and global mindset. Only by erring on the side of caution will the questionable fail to become the inevitable.

Recycling Stumps

Click Photo to Enlarge
A Pretty Robin Enjoying
our Garden Tree Stump Seating!

For days, I had driven by three abandoned stump segments at the side of the road. One the third occasion I started imagining them in my front garden.

On the forth trip, I stopped and rolled one of the stumps to the van, only to find that I couldn't lift it. Later that day, I returned with my 12-yr-old grand-daughter, Rachel, who helped me load all three stumps.

Even with two of us, the stumps were still very heavy; and, we returned home with scraped arms and pulled muscles. Lucky for us, though, three of Rachel's friends were waiting at the house when we returned, and were willing to help unload the stumps in the driveway.

The cracked and inconsistent appearance of our three stumps only serves to make them more appealing, to me. The stumps have graced our front pollinator potager all summer long, serving alternately as plant stands and extra seating for people and wildlife alike.

This week, I found a photo on Facebook illustrating a "stump table" for sale, and though the stump lacked the rustic charm of our garden gems, it was priced at an exorbitant $349.

Click Photo to Enlarge

I find it hard to believe there are buyers out there willing to pay the store's asking price for what amounts to cast off segments of telephone pole, but then those same people might think I'm a little strange for rescuing and recycling stumps found by the side of the road - Each to their own, though, right?

Beauty is often said to be in the eye of the beholder: Usefulness and financial viability are more often relative to circumstance. Our free, practical and valued garden stumps could potentially provide us a financial reward, but only if I'm willing to part with them.

I might, some day ... but not now!

Cucumber Confusion

Click on Image to Enlarge
Counter-Clockwise From Top Left
First Flower, First Cucumber,
Mutation, Harvested Fruit

Optimism soared when, in late August, our first pickling cucumber plants flowered and began to produce fruit. The elation didn't last long, though as cucumber confusion began turning our promising pickling crop into gourd-like mutations.

I asked several seasoned gardeners if they'd ever seen anything like my strange cucumbers; and, each response was a resounding, "No." One suggested there might have been something wrong with the seeds.

With genetic mutation the likely culprit, I realized there was no way we could risk eating the cucumbers; so, I photographed the imperfect harvest, inside and out, and then discarded them. Interestingly, when cut open, the cucs looked and smelled pretty much as they should.

The seeds from this year's failed cucumber crop came from a seed share table at the Seedy Saturday I attended in April. Next year, I'll be much more careful where I purchase the seeds I use to grow my vegetables and hope for a better outcome.

And, though I didn't get the cucumber crop I'd hoped would yield some home-grown dill pickles, my confused cucumbers have certainly gifted me an intriguing story to tell and some fascinating photos.

Simple Gifts

Click on Photo to Enlarge
Chinese Anemone
A Gift for our Garden, and Pollinators
from Miriam & Larry's Garden

My aunt Miriam recently remarried and moved from an apartment to the home of her new husband, Larry.

They now share a pretty bungalow near the lake-shore in Burlington; a charming little love nest; framed front, back and sides by garden, grass, porches and a lovely little private deck off the kitchen.

After Miriam was well and truly ensconced in her new home, my mom and I were invited out for a look-see; and, I was able to avail myself of some of their perennials that needed thinning out. Lucky me, I brought home some Chinese Anemone, Loosestrife, and ornamental grasses for our garden.

Miriam's always been generous with her time, sense of humour and her possessions; and, I'm grateful for her kindness to my mother. She once gave me a useful book about perennials, and this isn't even the first time she's bestowed plants for my garden.

Life is too short to be stingy with shareable items, inside or outside your home. Miriam's simple gifts are examples of how her generous spirit spreads beauty and caring from one person to another, and in our case, one garden to another.

We thank Miriam and Larry for keeping us in their thoughts, as they settle into their new life together. We'll be thinking of them often, too; especially, when our garden blooms again next year.

Potager Protegees

Click on Image to Enlarge
My 84-yr-old & 5-yr-old
Pollinator Potager Protegees

Gardening is lovely therapeutic and fulfilling endeavour that provides the mind and body with exercise, vitamin D, connection to the natural environment & people in the neighbourhood, and home-grown nutrition for species of all kinds.

In my case, gardening has also been an opportunity to share time in the great outdoors with two of my main gardening buddies (as my daughter Chelsea suggested, "my Potager Protegees"), currently: my 84-yr-old mother, Olive; and, my 5-yr-old granddaughter, Mattie-Belle.

Neither of these two people have great muscular strength or extensive gardening knowledge; however, mom and Mattie-Belle both come to the garden with great heart and strength of conviction.

When it came time, this week, to do a major trimming of the Butterfly Bushes and Cotoneasters in our pollinator patch, old and young eagerly participated in sweeping and tidying our neighbour's driveway.

Sometimes I like to be out in the garden alone, particularly if I need to think about what I'm doing; but; other times, I enjoy the company and the fresh perspective my protegees bring to the job at hand.

Mom and Mattie-Belle not only offer practical assistance, but also provide me the opportunity to learn through their questions and unique thought processes. In many ways, my gardening project is an ongoing educational experiment where I am alternately the perpetual student or teacher.

I know mom's protegee days will eventually be hampered by age, and Mattie-Belle's interests may change as she gets older (as happened with granddaughter, Rachel). That said, I'll take the enthusiasm and assistance offered by these fine ladies for as long as they are willing and able to provide both.

Goldenrod

Click on Image to Enlarge
A Welcome Pollinator
Visiting our Zig Zag Goldenrod

Last autumn, I found a treasure trove of Canada goldenrod in my backyard, likely transported there by visiting birds. I transplanted it to my side yard pollinator patch, only to be chastised for the growing of the plant that causes hay-fever.

Though, goldenrod (long falsely believed to be the cause of the allergic rhinitis know as hay-fever) and rag-weed (the actual cause of hay-fever) are not even similar in looks or mode of pollen transmission; the misconception has continued for far too long.

Rag-weed's tiny powdery grains are, in fact, easily transmitted through the air, so their nondescript green flowers do not need to attract insect pollinators. Goldenrod, on the other hand, requires insect conveyance of their heavier pollen, necessitating its bright golden floral display for insect attraction.

This week, our two goldenrod varieties - Canada provided by the birds and Zig Zag purchased at a native plant sale - began a fabulous show in our pollinator patch; and, the lovely bright colour and abundant pollen proved attractive to humans and insects, alike.

I'm happy I welcomed goldenrod to our pollinator patch; and more importantly, the pollinating insect in the photo above seems happy about it, too.

Finally

Click on Image to Enlarge
1st Tomato Sandwiches
from My Home-Growns

After months of seeding and tending four varieties of tomato plants, in my house and on my front porch, ripe tomatoes have finally arrived.

And, while harvesting ripe edible fruit is very fulfilling, I'm more excited at the prospect of making the first home-grown tomato sandwich of the season.

Coring, pealing (I always peal the tough skins of summer tomatoes), gently slicing and layering the juicy red tomato slices with lettuce and whipped dressing between slices of soft fresh bread (rather than toasted), is reward for my considerable labour.

Sinking my teeth into the most delicious sandwich of the season, as I did today, makes having dealt with hornworms, predators and watering issues over the summer seem like nothing at all.

My mom always said that as a child I could often be found in the tomato patch, eating fruit straight off the vine; and even to this day, for me there is no tastier treat than a tomato sandwich made with farm-fresh or home-grown tomatoes.

I'm looking forward to enjoying more delicious tomato sandwiches while my small crop is still producing fruit. The memory of the magic will have to sustain me until next year.

The Ripening

Click on Image to Enlarge
Our Four Varieties of Tomatoes

This past spring, I planted 4 different varieties of tomato plants - one of each - grown in my kitchen window from seed. I placed them in large food-grade plastic pots on my front porch and encouraged the plants to grow.

I've written before about the deep watering spikes I employed to keep the plants from developing bottom end rot, having to replace a seedling stolen by a bird with a store bought-plant, and the troubles I had with tomato horn worms eating away at my healthy crop.

I'm excited, now, to be able to report that the tomatoes have started to ripen - All four plants; and, in no time at all, I expect to have dozens of delicious juicy tomatoes, and not just the garden sweetheart miniatures.

It takes a tremendous amount of optimism to survive a season of growing tomatoes ... so much can go wrong; however, barring a cold snap or another unforeseen garden tragedy, I hope the ripening will continue until all this year's fruit can be picked and eaten.

If not, though, I'm determined to keep a positive attitude, imagining the chance to finally try fried green tomatoes - I hear it's a delicacy.

Eyes of a Child

Click on Photo to Enlarge
Grand-daughter Mattie-Belle
Helping to Dig the Potato Crop

Around the 1st week of August, grand-daughter Mattie-Belle and I staged a mini-excavation of our potato crop to assess whether anything was developing beneath the surface of the soil.

A good healthy portion of potato greens were growing above ground, but we were novice farmers and needed assurance that progress at the bottom was in keeping with the progress at the top.

Gently feeling around with my bare hands, so as not to hurt the tender potato tubers, I was happy to find three red skinned potatoes: A meager beginning, I'll grant you, but I thought respectable for a beginner.

A few weeks later, when the leaves had wilted and begun to dry out, we went at it again with the assistance of my husband, Doug. This time, we pulled the tops and excavated all six of the baskets of potatoes, saving the soil in two plastic garbage cans for growing different crops next summer (crop rotation, don't you know).  

Mattie-Belle loved the harvest, especially getting her hands dirty and pulling up several dozen small red spuds. We brought them in the house and washed them off, leaving the majority to dry but cooking some that night for dinner. They were delicious, even if I do say so myself; and, we've enjoyed several more meals using our home-grown potatoes since.

Our meager harvest

I planted one small bag of seed potatoes in the spring and harvested perhaps twice that many late in the summer: Not a particularly bumper crop, but a good educational experience for all ages of our family and some edible bounty to show for our hard work.

A summer feast ...
new potatoes, corn and steak

All in all, I think I'd grow potatoes again, though I'd plant them earlier and hill them higher. I found that it's interesting to follow the ever-changing growth in the garden, and exciting to experience the magic through the eyes of a child.

1st Cucumber

Click on Image to Enlarge
1st Pickling Cucumber of the Season!

Earlier in the season, I grew peas in a planter box at the side of my front porch; then in June, I replaced the harvested peas with pickling cucumber plants I'd seeded indoors.

The cucumber plants took much longer than I thought they would to establish themselves outdoors, but finally started creeping up the trellis.

Eventually, pretty yellow flowers began to open; and today, I was thrilled to find an actual cucumber growing out of one of those flowers - The first cucumber of many, I hope.

We've been making baby dill pickles most years since I was a teen, involving four generations of family in the process, but never with cucumbers grown from seed at home.

As my Mammoth Dill is growing well, above ground in a pot, it's my hope to be able to grow enough cucumbers to make at least one bottle of dill pickles from home grown ingredients, this year.

That would be a first, but hopefully not the last.

Sprinkler Fun

Click on Image to Enlarge
Sprinkler Fun While Watering the Garden

Ask any gardener, and they'll tell you that gardening is a great deal of work, but can also be a lot of fun. They'll also tell you that much depends, success-wise, on sunshine and rain.

Early on in this growing season, Mother Nature presented gardeners with a modicum of sunshine and a lot of rain - A LOT OF RAIN!

Watering by hose, therefore, didn't become an issue until mid-to-late July: A refreshing development, actually, to both my environmental sensibilities and my pocketbook.

When irrigation of my plants did finally become necessary, unexpected albeit entertaining benefits occurred: 

1. Grand-daughter, Mattie-Belle re-discovered the thrill of running through the garden sprinkler; and, it mattered not a bit to her, the chilly water temperature of the sprinkler fun.

2. As usually happens when watching the happy innocence of children behaving as children do, Mattie-Belle's delight put a huge smile on my face.

3. Mattie-Belle didn't know it, but her Grandad was controlling the height of the water by crimping and un-crimping the hose from the porch, and her occasional surprise dousing put a smile on his face.

4. I was compelled to take a dozen or so candid pictures and this one brief funny video.

Have a look - It's a very short clip, but will likely put a smile on your face, too!

Garden Sweethearts

Click on Image to Enlarge

Garden Sweetheart Cherry Tomatoes

One of the four tomato plants I've grown on my front porch this summer is a cherry tomato variety known as Garden Sweetheart.

Grown from seed, this plant is prolific: Over 8 feet (2.5 metres) tall and producing as many as 16 of the bright red heart-shaped fruit in a cascade from each stem. Everyone who's tried them declares these garden sweethearts to be a juicy tomato with great taste.

In a fierce wind last week, the entire unwieldy fruit-laden plant - heavy pot included - blew right over and hit the deck with a loud thump. We lost a few green tomatoes in the mishap, but the red ones knocked loose were salvaged. Most of the remaining fruit held on tightly and we righted the hardy plant, securing it firmly to the porch railing with a well-camouflaged bungee cord.

I've been growing these Garden Sweethearts for the special man in my life who's always been quite partial to cherry tomatoes: my own garden sweetheart, Doug. He's been amazingly supportive of this garden project all along, and deserves to enjoy these fruits of our considerable labour.

Busy Bee

Click on Photo to Enlarge
I love the Iridescent Quality in the
Movement of the Bee's Wings, as it Hovers
Over the Butterfly Bush Flowers!

We had a slow start with our pollinators this summer season, perhaps because of the cool temperatures early on and all the rain; however, activity has certainly picked up in the last couple of weeks. 

Lately we've been thoroughly enjoying the butterfly and bee activity in our side pollinator patch, especially on the butterfly bushes. Patience certainly pays off.

While photographing Monarch Butterflies, I snapped the picture above of this busy bee. So intent on it's mission, my little invasion caused not a bit of interest.

I don't always take great wildlife photos, but I love the iridescent quality in the movement of the tiny pollinator's wings, as it literally hovers over the bright purple fragrant flower blossoms in this picture.

Hornworm Whisperer

Click on Image to Enlarge
Tomato Hornworm Whisperer
Granddaughter, Mattie-Belle

Last year my tomato crop succumbed to bottom end rot. This year I took measures to prevent the same blight. Imagine my upset at discovering a different tomato problem this summer.

At first, I couldn't figure out what was eating away at one and then two of my tomato plants. I blamed raccoons, and was about to cut off the quickly balding branches and half eaten fruit when I discovered what I soon learned were Tomato Hornworms.

They were beautiful in a weird and wonderful way, bright green and as large as my index finger. Having never seen anything like these critters before, I did some research as to how to save my tomato crop. 

Eradication wasn't an easy task, as my granddaughter Mattie-Belle, a five-year-old who seems to have no fear of crawling creatures of any kind, wanted to adopt them.

Eventually, the Hornworm Whisperer was lured away, and I was able to dispatch the first two followed by a third from another plant the next day; and, that seemed to do the trick.

So, another unexpected tomato tragedy has been averted, in my ongoing quest for a home-grown fresh and juicy tomato sandwich - Silent salivation reference intended.

Tucking-In

Click on Image to Enlarge

The photo above illustrates the early colonization of our newly installed bee hotel for solitary bees.

The pollinator potager project (TPPP) is still in the early stages of pollinator-friendly plant installation and spread, but it's exciting to see the beginnings of nesting activity and the filling of nesting tubes that clearly indicate a few solitary bees have found their way to our experimental bee oasis and roomy hotel.

Elimination of pesticide use in our garden initially made weed and pest prevention more challenging; however, incorporation of mulch has been a helpful compromise. That we've also provided: native plantings, bee baths, spring to fall food sources and mulch-free soil spaces, seems to be encouraging solitary insects to give our developing garden a look-see.

Hopefully, as pollinator-friendly plants begin to fill out and self-seed, more pollinators will find their way to our TPPP Hotel and the tucking-in of future generations will continue.

Growing and Giving

Click on Image to Enlarge
Wild Columbine Seeds and Pods

Last summer I received a Maltese Cross Campion during a garden tour in our neighbourhood. This spring, I grew three dozen gift seedlings, from seeds collected from the Campion last fall.

This year, I've already collected seeds from my prolific Wild Columbine, the Campion, and my Bellflower. It's strangely exciting, contemplating the propagation of future generations of plant-life.

I'm storing the collected seeds in little clearly labelled manila envelopes, so they stay fresh, dry and organized.

I'm now hoping to acquire some native Milkweed seeds (or plants) as last year's crop was decimated by aphids, and I only produced one small plant from seed, this year.

Likely, I'll find other seeds to propagate before the 2017 growing season is over, to either direct sew this fall or chill and plant next spring. Either method is something to which I'm looking forward.

Next year, I hope to have a variety of seedlings to give as gifts. After all, the growing and giving feel good; and, the good feeling makes both efforts worthwhile.

Deep Root Watering

Click Image to Enlarge

Orange Plastic Deep Watering Spike

Shown Separate from Pop Bottle Reservoir

Last year I lost my tomato crop to 'bottom end rot'. This condition, I've learned, is mostly due to lack of calcium, and inconsistent watering.

This year I've made sure to provide adequate calcium; but, as my tomatoes began to flower I started worrying about maintaining consistent water.

I remembered using deep watering spikes, years ago, and discovered that Lee Valley still sells them. Orange plastic spikes (see photo above) with small holes in the bottom, are designed to be used with 2 litre plastic pop bottles.

My husband picked me up a set of six spikes, and I set about scrounging up pop bottles. A Facebook plea produced two replies with offers of empties located in their blue boxes.

Within 24 hours, I had rounded up four clear 2 litre pop bottles, exactly the number of tomato plants I needed to water. I quickly removed the labels, rinsed the bottles out, and then drilled a 3/4" hole in the bottom of each for ease of watering.

With the plastic spikes screwed onto the pop bottles and the spiked bottles pushed into the soil in each tomato pot, deep root watering was begun. Easy-peasy!

The bottles empty at different rates depending on how much sun or rain the pots receive; essentially, I refill each bottle using a funnel and my watering can each morning. The roots don't get over-watered because there are generous drainage holes in the pot bottoms.

With the two remaining spikes and a couple of additionally acquired pop bottles, I'm going to also apply this deep root watering system to keeping my lettuces and strawberries hydrated.

This cost effective (approximately $2 per pot) deep root watering system is, so far, a wonderful help in my garden. Fingers crossed, it will continue to help prevent bottom end rot in my tomatoes as the growing season progresses.