What on earth is this?

On the stem of my tomatillo plant (clearly, the tomatillo looks unhappy):

And on the stem of a tomato plant:

What on earth is going on here? The two photos are not identical, but they are strikingly similar. Any ideas?

Update from my Troy Garden plot

I stopped by my other community garden plot yesterday and found a rabbit living inside. This is the second rabbit I’ve seen living inside my teeny (20′ x 20′), “rabbit-proof” plot. I dug in chicken wire fencing a foot into the ground all the way around the plot to keep the dang rabbits out. The little stinkers found their way in somehow. Grrr. The first rabbit I found a few weeks ago; I chased that one right out the gate. But this one was not bright enough to find the gate, and my plot is now so crowded with vegetation that it was impossible to do any chasing. I did hurl a rather large turnip at the bunny, but missed. Dang.

The rabbit had mowed down my soybean plants, so what was left was a sorry looking row of sticks. It had also eaten some of my carrot tops. Stinker.

But, in good news, the tomatillos and the peppers are both making good progress. Last year I don’t think any of my peppers got bigger than 2 inches. But this year there are already some that are nearly full-grown!

And I found a lovely Trombocino squash growing in my garden, which looks like this:

It’s a summer squash, so you eat it like you would eat any summer squash–patty pan, zucchini, etc. It’s kind of intimidatingly large, though, especially for a household that is not wild about squash. We shall see.

Coming up soon: a post about making your own pesto. Mmmmmm.

Summer Hiatus

I’ve been AWOL for about a month. My poor gardens no doubt feel neglected. We had a surprise 9-days out of town in early August, which accounts for some of my absence. While I was gone, the squash patch at Eagle Heights got HUGE and took over nearly my entire garden plot:

It even invaded the carrot patch, forcing me to harvest 13 pounds of carrots. What am I going to do with that many carrots?

And, much to my surprise, I found a full-grown, ripe, delicious melon waiting for me:

I also harvested 17 lbs of potatoes. The potato plants have all died back already (seems early to me, but I guess I planted them pretty early so perhaps it’s not unreasonable). I dug up less than one of the four beds and already have 17 pounds. I’m guessing we’ll have over 100 lbs of potatoes by the time we did them all up. What will I do with so many potatoes?? I’d best look into long-term potato storage. If the late blight spreads here as fast as everyone is predicting, I may have the only locally grown potatoes around. Unfortunately, ALL of my tomatoes are still green so if the late blight gets to them, there is very little hope. Wouldn’t that be ironic? I mean, I planted 30 tomato plants! Could you imagine if late blight knocked out every single one? Let’ s hope not!

I also collected some beets, some of which had gotten WAY too big (like the one furthest right). I’m a little afraid to eat those.

And finally, I pulled out a bunch of basil because it, too, was being shaded out by the squash (and sunflowers and tomatoes) and I have been having crazy pesto cravings lately. So, pesto here I come!

Also, I love sunflowers, and finally got some to grow. Our yard is too shady but Eagle Heights gets plenty of sun:

Harvest!

Oh, mid summer, how I love thee. Let me count the ways: (1) potatoes (2) carrots (3) peas (4) beets (5) raspberries.

I’m especially impressed by the size of some of those red potatoes, and by the abundance of raspberries in the backyard. I’m currently frying up some potatoes and sauteeing some carrots and peas for lunch. Delicious!

deliciousness

Our backyard raspberry patch is full of tasty, sun-ripened raspberries. I have a batch of raspberry yogurt incubating. Mmm.

metamorphosis

It was with a small bit of pride that I looked at my garden today. When I thought about how much it had changed, I was amazed. It’s truly a miraculous process.

April 11, 2009:

July 3, 2009:

What a change! The potato plants are doing quite well (they’re the bushy plants on the right hand side of the plot), despite an infestation of Colorado potato beetles. I have a longer post on those coming up soon, but haven’t quite finished it yet. In the meantime, I have photos of my beautiful beans (scarlet runner beans on the right) which have gotten far more lush and out of control than I could have imagined.

And the squash! In May I planted a number of squash and melon seedlings. I then went to Texas for 9 days, and when I came back my squash and melons were mowed down. Gone. Kaput. All but two plants (out of about 15) had been demolished by some sort of critter. I’ve asked around and people have blamed it on various bugs, but no one seems to know exactly what eats those tender squash seedlings. I replanted the squash patch, set it up under row cover, and there are now a number of plants that are thriving. Imagine my delight to see this today:

So beautiful. So elegant and graceful and lovely.

Speaking of graceful and lovely, I also stumbled upon that same crane family walking through the patches looking for tasty treats. And one of the little ones was quite happily taking a mud bath!

Love makes the world go ’round

I have lots to say about the evilness of Ccolorado potato beetles, but not quite enough time to write a substantial post right now. So instead I have a picture of what I encountered on the potato plants this morning. I blushed and put the leaves back where I found them to give them some privacy, but not before I snapped a photo:

In which I encounter a snake and do not die

I’ve mulched my community garden plot at Troy Gardens to keep moisture in the soil and to reduce the frequency and difficulty of weeding. I use bales of straw, but you can use whatever you want that’ll block light: old chopped up leaves, newspapers, giant rhubarb leaves, whatever. (Don’t use pine needles, though. They change the pH of the soil.) Today I went to Troy gardens to do a little garden care: covering some of the struggling tomatillos and tomatoes with row cover, thinning the carrots, and planting some more seeds (beets, turnips, cukes, and some herbs). After I was done covering the stuggling plants with row cover, my garden looked as though it were inhabited by pointy-headed ghosts:

Next up was to plant some seeds. Succession planting, they call it. Every week or two you plant a little bit of fast-growing crops, like turnips, beets, or radishes, so that you have a continuously-maturing supply over the summer. I reached over to one of my rows that was unplanted and pulled off the straw and found THIS:

Of course, I am brave and definitely did NOT scream and jump backwards five feet and catch the attention of some other folks gardening nearby. No way, not me, I AM NOT AFRAID OF SNAKES.* But I did call my husband, who helped me figure out that this beastie is a brown snake, who likes to live in leaf litter (or, ahem, straw) and eat slugs, earthworms, and snails. Note that it does not eat HUMANS, much to my relief. It’s about the thickness of my thumb at its thickest point, and I was nearly certain that was thick enough to strangle me and devour my lifeless body. Fortunately, I was wrong. There are only two kinds of poisonous snakes in Wisconsin, and they both have rattles. Aren’t you glad you know that now?

I grabbed a pitchfork from the shed and (I know what you’re thinking here, no I did NOT stab it!) began nudging it towards the side of my garden plot. It eventually made its way into the grassy path along side my garden, where I lost sight of it. But I did not sit down on the ground for the whole rest of the time I was there lest I find a snake with my butt.

In more calming and joyful news, the beets are almost ready! They are bursting out of the ground, so beautiful:

And in my final task (thinning the carrots), I discovered that some of them were already baby carrots, and they provided a beautiful and delicious taste of what’s to come:

They look much bigger than they actually are! I think the biggest one was only a little bit thicker than a pencil. You can see my gloved finger in the upper right for an idea of the size. But look how breathtaking they are! In three colors, no less. I’ve got here three types: Atomic Red (reddish orange), Scarlet Nantes (medium orange), and Jaune du Doubs (yellow). The Atomic Red and Jaune du Doubs both had a pungent taste, almost bitter. The Scarlet Nantes, however, was smooth and delectable. I can’t wait until I have some full-sized carrots!

*Okay, I am afraid of snakes, but only just a little bit.

What makes a radish go astray?

A few weeks ago I harvest the first radishes. Many of the radishes I’ve harvested are beautiful, looking something like this:

And many of the radishes I have harvest have these weird paths dug through their surface, like this:

My google skills are failing me right now. I can’t seem to figure out what is causing this. Any ideas?

Sandhill Cranes in the garden

I know, it’s been forever since I’ve written. We took a trip to Texas in there, and then I started  a new internship, and keeping up with three gardens has kept me pretty busy.  But from today forward, I promise to write frequently. There is so much going on, I hardly know what to do with myself!

Today’s exciting news is that today when I was over at Eagle Heights (where I have a community garden plot) I saw a number of cranes meandering through the gardens! I was kneeling down, working among the potato plants (which are huge and beautiful and a fine sight to see) when I heard a noise. “Hmm,” I thought. “That sounds like an animal.” But I didn’t see anything. Shortly after that, a beautiful sandhill crane came wandering through, not 10 feet from where I was kneeling. Just behind it were its mate and their two baby sandhill cranes!

Here is the family that followed:

The birds would wander from plot to plot, poking their bills into the goodies to see what they could find to eat:

When they got to the end of my row, they wandered around in the field for a few minutes, and then came back and started walking down the next row up, poking into gardens and occasionally nibbling. What fun! What a beautiful sight on a beautiful day.

There’s so much more to write about: the peas are blooming, some asparagus has finally come up, the Great Turnip Mishap, the mystery of the disappearing squash, and testing of the human limits of lettuce consumption. But for now, I leave you with this transition.

From this (May 20, 2009):

To this (June 6, 2009):

In only 17 days! Truly a miracle.