Our Calendar

September '98

September 28: About time! The tomatoes are finally coming in bulk, a mere two months after I expected them. But I had to comment on "Orange Oxheart". Oh man, is this a good tomato! Almost no seeds, meaty without being pasty, not too sweet yet just tart enough to taste like a tomato without stinging. YUMMY! It's always a fresh sliced tomato on a snow white plate that lets me know each year gardening is worth it all. This is the first year where that fresh sliced tomato was a brilliant Jack O' Lantern orange color, though. Beautiful.

BTW: On the Message Board, a gardener asked about small green worms eating her tomatoes. I'm stumped. If you have encountered such, you'd be doing a favor to all of us to let us know. Thanks!

September 3: Now begins the real heart of the California gardening season. Though the weather still says "summer", cooler days will be upon us soon. The nights are already sometimes dropping to somewhere in the very comfortable seventies, and the garden is responding with a second flush of bloom. The shasta daisies pair with the gaura for a few more weeks of color, the veronica and the nasturtiums start to perk up from the slump of the dog days of August.

It's time to get serious about transplanting and dividing the perennials that need it and to add any new plants to the garden. They will establish in the long warmish autumn much better than they will in the too brief spring that gives way so quickly to such fearsome heat. The grasses, the feather grass and the maiden grass, are top of the list; that's going to be a story in itself, I am betting. They do not look like they want to be divided. They look like they are holding on tight to what they have. We will see. We do own an axe.

August '98:

And more hot weather, as if there hasn't been enough. And a few medium earthquakes, since we were complaining too much about the heat. No damage to speak of but a good reminder, as always.

At last some tomatoes began to color but as I write this in early September, the harvest totals three. And those three were from the mystery variety, tasty but catfaced and not pretty. The three heirloom beefstake tomatoes are still just promising to ripen fruit, though Mortgage Buster is indeed heavily laden with green tomatoes. Pineapple has not fruited at all that I can see. Orange Oxheart has some fruit but no sign of color in them even yet.

Both Silver Queen and Ruby Queen corn were eaten with glee in August. I expected the Ruby Queen to be only fair eating quality, since its color was its boasting point but it turned out to be quite good, even those ears we harvested at full maturity. Almost too sweet, if such a thing is possible. I did find that it wasn't too pretty served off the cob - the color tended to bleed from cut kernels, turning creamed corn a really nasty shade of mauve. But on the cob, quite a conversation starter. The Silver Queen was a sterling performer and excellent eats, as always.

July '98:

Hot. That's what July was here and just about everywhere else I heard from. Hot. Blisteringly, blazingly, hot.

The garden knows it. I've had the worst fruit set on the tomatoes I've seen yet because it's hot. The perennials shoot through their bloom cycle in a matter of days not weeks because it's hot. We creep out in the yard in the still of the morning or the hush of evening, but the daylight hours are just too darn...hot. Or did I say that?

Despite it all, Steve was inspired by a visit to Randy Wilkes' tidy garden here in town and he cleared the path of all the weeds, in the evening when it was something close to bearable to move outdoors. I'll admit, it is an improvement. I found the feverfew on the compost pile one morning and a big patch of bare ground where it used to be. Steve refused to be guilty and he was quite right. It's now coming back, bright green and much denser than it was before. No stopping feverfew apparantly.

Little jalepeno peppers are coming from the few pepper plants that did well. Most were overwhelmed by the neighboring calendula. The calendula didn't seem to know it was a cool season flower and has been blooming prolifically since spring.

Many gardeners hibernate in winter. Here, the garden becomes almost dormant in summer waiting for the cooler weeks of early fall to start moving again. So will I. Picking tomatoes and corn, and fighting the weeds will be the main garden tasks till then.

June '98:

Scientific observation of a garden, left untouched by the hand of man. Well, or woman. Steve got out there after work and kept beating The Ugly Plant back from his corn patch. I was the one taking quick turns around the path, keeping my eyes glazed when travelling over sections that needed work.

About half the corn seedlings that came up so vigorously survive. Once The Ugly Plant started an organized campaign on their territory, the corn started going pale, as it lost the struggle for available nitrogen in the soil. The snails, who always remove the wounded from the field of battle, starting munching the most pathetic of the seedlings to the ground.

Once Steve rolled his sleeves up and weeded once a week, usually muttering something about lazy wives under his breath, the corn was able to make a come back and now (in early July, actually) the tassels are beginning to form. Since they are not in as dense a patch as planned, we'll do some shaking of the pollen over the silks on still days, to help germination along.

Burpee Seed Company delivered a big surprise at the end of May. Much to their horror, the Pink Brandywine seedlings they sent out this year were not, blush, Pink Brandywines. So five of our eight plants this year are mystery varieties, though they are tomatoes. This is unheard of for Burpee in my experience; they were very apologetic and gave me a gift certificate for more than the price of the seedlings, so I still highly recommend them.

Their advice was to remove the seedlings and replace them with starts from a local nursery. If I had any sense, I would have done so but the plants were doing well and are still are, so I'll just see what happens. No guarantee they will produce edible tomatoes at all, as they could have been breeding stock used for its vine vigor traits but not its fruit quality. We'll find out.

A friend was good enough to pick up a Brandywine seedling for me recently. With our long season, it should be coming into fruit just as the spring planted vines are tiring, so it's a bit of a blessing in disguise that the planting was staggered.

The grasses are on my list of "must add mores". They look good year round and filled in quickly to a large size, giving my young garden a look of maturity in just a couple of years. I was careful to chose varieties that don't have a reputation for seeding enthusiatically, crowding out native grasses for miles around. Purple fountain grass is sterile and absolutely show-stopping. We're growing one Maiden Grass "Yako Shima" center stage, and it's living up to the position. Later in the season it will add the fireworks of seed sprays. The others, calamagrostis, are green fountains with tall yellow plumes, were a surprise. Last year, they were tiny little sprigs the catalog said to plant 2' apart. I did. They're now 3' across each and as tall, so in fall, they too will be moved to someplace in the spotlight.

The small shrubs are troopers. The hopseed bush needs a quick sheer about four times a year and looks lovely for all the rest of it with no care at all, as does the New Zealand Tea Bush and the Heavenly Bamboo (which isn't really a bamboo at all). When they flower, it's for as long a period as most perennials and, on a direct comparison of plants, they beat the show the perennials put on hands down.

The perennials are endearing themselves to me no end. If you don't mind ragged edges, they take almost no day-to-day care, I swear it. The spots where annuals florished last year are crying out to be filled with something but the perennial beds just look floppy, wild, overgrown and full of flowers and life. The plants and garden dwellers don't care a bit I haven't given the flora a haircut in awhile. (Though the neighbors might be getting alarmed. I could never get away with it out in the front yard.) I am starting to wonder if something larger than a bird has moved into the Maiden Grass, so who knows? Maybe I'll apply the clippers in July sometime.

May '98:

5/15 Mid-May! How is that possible? The garden is so busy I hardly know where to start taking photos. The cistus is just starting to show signs of slowing down, the New Zealand Tea Bush is beginning to form tiny, burnished, button seed pods at the lower ends of the flower sprays, the cerinthe has flopped over, turned yellow and is ripening its seeds. 'Bright Eyes' flax is blooming over the retaining wall, the "annual" statice that wintered over is in full swing, the iris are vying with the roses for the title of "Garden Beauty Queen". The feverfew is an enormous patch of lacy leaves just beginning to show flower buds.

I mentioned on the Pictures Index that I am new to being "serious" about photography. So far, this mainly consists of turning off the automatic settings now and then, wearing a black beret and trying to look like I knew the third leg of the tripod wasn't locked in place when I set it down. This all leads to me saying the last batch of pictures from a few days ago will not be going on-line, though a few snippets may show up here and there. (Like the ladybug on the What's New page.) I'll try again. And hopefully the next batch of pics won't be labeled "June". Kari is sending along some from her North Carolina garden, so those should be here soon for you to enjoy.

The raised beds are almost full now with all sorts of transplanted seedlings: tomatoes and peppers, calendula and sage, strawberries and marigolds. The middle bed containing alpine strawberries from last year must still be dug and amended and will have space to add some later crops from seed. (Yes, I should have done this by now.) This third year will be the last we can grow plants in the same place they grew before - next year we must rotate the crop locations so diseases don't build up. For now, we're sticking with what's worked so far.

The first week of the month, Steve planted his corn patch. For this first crop, he is trying Burpee's 'Ruby Queen', a new red sweet corn and 'Early Choice', another corn recommended for early season growing and helpful with pollinating the 'Ruby Queen' which Burpee warns is weak in that department. He plans on starting another batch in the same place only after harvesting these, hoping the break in a ready food supply will slow down the moths whose caterpillars are corn earworms. The seedlings are about 3" high and weren't bothered by snails when the row cover came off, a good sign that they are healthy. Steve planted 'Russian Mammoth' sunflower seeds in the few spots the corn didn't germinate; they should be popping up any day now.

4/28 Last weekend, Steve miraculously had both days off. He eyed the empty strip along the front yard fence. Productive as always and way too early in the morning he said, "We've got to do something about that." In '97 we grew 'Bright Lights' cosmos, sunflowers and signet marigolds from seed in this spot, all of which proved to be unstoppable. Oranges, reds, yellow/golds - strong, hot colors that looked great against a beige fence in clear West Coast sun.

"What do you think we should plant this year?" I ask.

"How about something bright this time?" he replied with all sincerity.

He had already worked amendment into the two-foot wide, fifteen-foot long sunny border over the course of the previous two months, working a half an hour here and there when the weather was fair. And since we were both in the mood for instant gratification, we trotted on down to the local nursery for some tough annual bedding plants that would fit Steve's definition of colorful.

Marigolds there had to be. I love them in all shapes and colors. I even like the smell of the hybrids, which unlike signet marigolds is not at all citrusy. Sharp and pleasant to my nose though. I count myself lucky as many despise it and breeders are always fiddling around trying to get rid of the smell. It only arises when the leaves are bruised, so even if you find you don't care for it, it's not a big drawback. We chose a solid yellow that's tag promised it would get about 15" tall for the back row.

Steve likes celosia and it's hard to find a plant with more intense coloring. I too like the fantastic jewel-like tones and feathered plumes of red, orange and yellow, so I hope they grow tall and strong in the middle row where we placed them. The hybrids we chose are a dwarf variety and should get to be about 10 inches tall.

The low front row alternates white sweet alyssum and crimson dianthis. Ow! We didn't hold back, did we? White will often soften colors around it but in this palette, it's only going to add sparks to the fire.

We stopped at that. Especially when using bedding annuals, it's better to use more of a few types of plant than many assorted flowers. One flowering annual will make you smile as you go by. Two dozen of the same flowering annual in a mass will stop you in your tracks. None of the plants we put in are going to impress botanists with their rarity. What we hope they will do is what they were made for: grow quickly into sturdy plants that are colorful, eye-pleasing and easy to care for. We'll just have to wait and see if that's how it turns out.

4/11 The lily bulbs from White Flower Farms that went in at the end of March have had time to send up thick sprouts that were eaten by snails. This winter was very warm, not to mention excessively wet, and they are building up in unusual numbers. Even so, the Oriental lily sprouts are the only thing showing damage, so they are probably somewhat stressed by trying to grow in soil that is not as loamy as they would like. The bulbs were huge, fat, heavy things bursting with vigor so they may be able yet to recover.

Some vegetable and flower starts have arrived. This year, we are trying three heirloom tomatoes that are new to us: 'Mortgage Buster', 'Orange Oxheart' and 'Pineapple'. This was the first time we had ordered from Territorial Seed Co. and I was pleased to see the plants arrived well-packed and in fine condition. They went into the ground two weeks ago.

Tomato Planting Tip: Tomatoes will root from their stems. You can use this habit to your advantage. When you are planting a tomato seedling, pinch off the bottom seed leaves. Then plant the seedling deeply enough that the leaves that are left are just above ground level. The now buried, naked stem will sprout roots and the roots it already had will dig deeper.

About a week ago, a flat of assorted pre-started vegetable and annual flower seedlings arrived from Burpee Seed Company. They too were perky and ready to go. Unfortunately, the weather was not. It's been raining all week and if soil is worked while it is sodden, it will compact and become hard as concrete when it dries. So the flat went first into the shade room for a few days of bright, indirect light under cover. Now they are out on the work table, taking what daylight the clouds let through and fully exposed to the elements.

They really must go into the ground next week or they will need some form of liquid fertilizer added to their water. Seedlings in six-packs are growing in the bare minimum of soil needed to survive and cannot thrive for long without transplanting. Hopefully, the rain will let up before special care is needed. 

March '98: By the end of the month, the beginning of planting season for the hardier summer vegetables will have begun. We should see an end to all frosts by the 30th, though winter weather has been odd here, as everywhere.

All seeds ordered in February should arrive this month and within the last two weeks, the first batch of pre-started seedlings ordered from catalogs. Look for updates on this site as the new seeds and plants are added to the garden.

March 25th: Found that 48 mixed Oriental lily bulbs wouldn't fit in the garden, though about thirty did. Planted those that could be squeezed in and found neighborhood victims...uh volunteers, to take the excess.

February '98: Dreams and schemes for the coming months as this year’s crop of winter catalogs pop up in the mailbox. Planning elaborate, expensive, six-foot deep perennial borders for the front yard, in reality ordering vegetable starts and annual seeds. Ignoring the fact that Longwood Gardens couldn’t squeeze in all the plants coming at the end of March. They’ll fit somehow.

Late January ‘98: Steve is granted a half-day off by the life devouring corporate swine who employ him. Seeing the empty raised beds in the daylight for the first time in weeks, he sets forth with winter crop seeds in hand and a gleam in his eye. When he first plunges shovel into soil, he finds to his surprise it digs in without his needing to jump up and down on the back of it. Two years of amending every six months have finally turned gray clay into something like loam. Astounded, he exclaims, “Why, this is a pleasure to dig in!” It’s a pleasure to weed, too. Unwanted seedlings just pop right out of the well-loosened soil with nary a protest or a root scrap left behind. For some more information about Steve’s early spring greens garden, surf to Food Comes From Plants on this site.

The proper thing for a gardener in our area to be doing in January is clean up and that’s my job. There will be no pictures of the garden this month, which solves the problem much more easily than actually doing the work.

Text and images Copyright 1998 Cyndi Kirkpatrick. All rights reserved