A few things have happened since the last post. For brevity's sake, I'll make the review short (and full of pictures) and go back only as far as last Tuesday . . . November 4.

Bright and early, we did this:
Then I worked like a crazy person taking pictures and doing a video about other people doing exactly that same thing.

And then this happened:

And then I stayed up all night shooting and editing this:


And then I did this for about 20 hours:
And then today, I went outside to find this:(Oh, yeah. . . I have a garden!)

So that's what I've been up to, and that's why I haven't written. Seeing that I work for a news organization, I cannot mention my feelings about the outcome of the election, except to state several facts. This is history, and whatever your feelings about the promised "change," -- well, change has already occurred. Both of those things are incredibly positive developments, and that's all I'll say about that.

Back to the garden, my little squares of non-partisan dirt that at the same time speak volumes about my politics.

Last weekend, I painted the inside of the coldframes white (using non-toxic, no-VOC paint) so they can make the most of the limited winter sunlight. That paint, by the way, is massively expensive! $26 for a small can!Then, Erik and I sealed the joints and screw holes with clear silicone so they'll cold up for several seasons in the rain. They are also stained and sealed on the outside to protect the wood.

Each night, if it looks like the temperatures will dip near freezing, we place the windows on top and close them. But if the weather is balmy and wet (as it's been for about 4 days here now), I just take the tops off entirely. Unless it's really cold, I leave the windows open so air can circulate. As the days get colder, I'll adjust this, and perhaps only leave the windows ajar during the sunniest hours. Again, learning as I go here -- advice is welcome, if you've got some!

It's been several weeks now with the cold frames, and the plants seem to love them. The lettuce has gone nuts:So is the Swiss chard:And we're getting little baby turnips (? - forgot to remember what I planted there - could be radishes, but I don't think so)Speaking of radishes, I went to check on them, and !#&@^#*#*@(@!!!!!!This little jerk is responsible:And this is how I feel:So I dusted off the ravished radish -and ate it.

Good news about the brussels sprouts! Remember this plant that would not, could not, mature so I chopped off its head?Well, now the sprouts have filled out. I think we're going to make then into dinner soon.There were two cantaloupes that hung on late in the season, though they remained tiny. I've left them on the vine in the hope that they'd get a little bigger, but to no avail. So today I plucked them from their home and introduced them to my kitchen knife.They weren't very good.

The composter in the front is just about ready.
And the back composter is full of the tomato, bean and pepper plants I tore up in the rear garden.Speaking of the rear garden, I decided that next year, it's going to be the dedicated vine and tomato spot. The tomatoes did great there this year (especially the Brandywines) and the purple pole beans - oh my. However, the one thing that all the vining plants needed was more support, so we (actually, Erik will) are going to build a trellis that stretches from the fence to the roof of the adjacent garage.
(like my illustration?)

And while I'm sharing my plans for next season, here's the area where we're (actually, Erik will - again) going to build the chicken run:I'm about out of updates, and both the cat and the husband are snoring, so I think I'll wrap up with some pretty pictures of rose hips, which I may harvest tomorrow to make jam.Th-th-that's all folks!!

Jonah and the worm

The last post was a bit of a downer; sorry about that. This one should be better.

I'll start out with a happy picture.


They look like good friends, don't they?

About the whole dying of squash and feelings of failure and frustration thing - I've come to some thoughts about it.

(these are the dying cucumbers:)
It's out of my control, and I shouldn't get angry about it.

In fact, I didn't even plant those squash. They literally kept popping out of the ground (from the compost, I think) and I pulled all except for two in the name of science. Until they declared themselves as butternut squash, I called them "mystery plants." That's what they were - a mysterious gift that came out of the dirt.

And then they died, but they weren't mine to begin with, so I should get over myself. That sums up a lesson that pops up in many religious traditions (for instance, the Hindu god Shiva both destroys and creates), but I came across an old testament story that deals with an actual squash.

(Spoiler alert: I'm an agnostic and not pushing any particular religion or religion in general here)

At the end of the story of Jonah, he's sitting on a blazing hot hill waiting to see if God will smite a sinful city that Jonah had warned to repent. While he's waiting, God causes a squash plant to grow over him to provide shade and comfort. Then the next day, a worm kills the squash. Jonahs' pissed and yells at God, who basically replies, 'Hey, it wasn't yours anyway, so chill.'

My takeaway is that it's just not about me. I can appreciate the heck out of gardening and helping things grow, but I'm a part of the process just like the rain or the plants. My ego has gotten in my way, and it's blocking the view.

And look: the squash is sending up flowers even as it goes down in flames. Now that's life force!
End sermon.

Back to garden.

Another happy picture:Marigolds are just about the coolest plants ever. You can't kill them, they bloom all summer and they repel all sorts of bugs.

The brussel sprouts are looking like the nipples of a very pregnant dog:
The bell peppers (the ones that did not fall victim to the recent snail onslaught) are starting to blush. It's adorable:
Here's the snail that killed my other beautiful pepper. But I'm not mad (see above).

The cilantro has gone to seed, but I'm letting it go because it is so darn pretty:
We have 20,000 green tomatoes just waiting for me to go out of town to turn red.
And the behemoth Brandywine is just about to become lunch.

I've given up on the onions I had planted several months back. The tops had fallen over long ago, but I just packed them with compost and figured I'd give it time. Well, today, the tops were officially dead and gone, so I dug up what there was and plan to use them in a bean salad soon. They appear to have multiplied underground, but I must have planted them too close together and they just stopped growing.

Lesson learned: plant onions farther apart.
And on the jam front: last night I made 35 (that's thirty five) jars of peach jam. They were selling lavender flowers at the farmers market, so I got frisky and made a small batch with those, and a small batch with both candied and fresh ginger. I also swapped out the cane sugar, to a large extent, with clover honey. Tastes good; bad idea.

The stuff will not gel. Arg!! I have 35 jars of yummy slop. Gr! But at least it looks pretty.So lesson learned: don't use honey in jam. Or at least, don't expect it to gel if you do.

That's all for now, friends.