Today is a very special day in the pantheon of days because today is the first day I was able to put on an actual sweater because it ... is ... cold.
Brrrr!!
It must be fifty-five degrees out there!
The tomato plant out in the garden is an idiot and can't tell the difference between summer and the season that comes right after summer. Whatever it's called. The tomato plant keeps popping out with the green balls of fruit (which oh-so-slowly turn a delightful shade of orangey-red and then a deep, rich red which tastes absolutely delicious when popped like grapes into the mouth) and the yellow flower blossoms (seriously? you really think the bees are going to come around now that the temperature has dropped to near-freezing??), and str-etch-ing out with the green vines, up, up, up so far that it's difficult to tell the difference between the vines of the tomato plant and the branches of the tree it's growing on.
We have a seriously deluded tomato plant.
One of these days, I'm going to walk into the backyard to perform my daily tomato-harvesting activities and discover that the entire plant has shriveled into nothingness because an overnight frost crystallized all the molecules of water in the into cell-wall-shattering shards of ice, and then it will be time to toss the green carcass into the compost and bag the dirt for safekeeping and tear down the planter boxes so that they can be stored in the garage, and thus restore the backyard to its pristine, pre-spring state of nothingness. And all will be ready for the impending snowfall. Which should start right on schedule around November 25th. Covering up all evidence of the travesty that was this year's garden attempt.
I'm not sure what to do about the watermelon plants. They're just as stupid as the tomatoes, although with far less fruit. As in "none". Perhaps because they didn't get planted until late July or early August. If I can keep them alive over the winter, perhaps they'll do something next year; but this year - nada.
And then there's the strawberries, which are just beginning to redden up. And the broccoli, which is sprouting pods again. And the lettuce, which steadfastly refused to do anything except create hundreds of dandelion-like seed parachutes.
Psychotic plants, all of them.
Now that the cooler weather has settled in, it's time to pack it all in. But where? There's no room in the garage. There's no room in the loft. There's no room in the attic. If I had time (and $$$) I'd build a little greenhouse so that they could stay warm all winter long. But there's no room for that. And probably some local ordinance against building greenhouses next to the house. (Don't want another orange sticker, you know!) If I lived on a farm down in Texas, I'd just build me a greenhouse and enjoy puttering in it when the air outside is freezing and the wind is cutting like a knife. Or if I lived down in California, I'd just keep on gardening because it will never get cold enough to freeze anything.
But here in Michigan, it's time to hunker down and think interior thoughts.
And get that exterior cleaned up.
Brrrr!!
It must be fifty-five degrees out there!
The tomato plant out in the garden is an idiot and can't tell the difference between summer and the season that comes right after summer. Whatever it's called. The tomato plant keeps popping out with the green balls of fruit (which oh-so-slowly turn a delightful shade of orangey-red and then a deep, rich red which tastes absolutely delicious when popped like grapes into the mouth) and the yellow flower blossoms (seriously? you really think the bees are going to come around now that the temperature has dropped to near-freezing??), and str-etch-ing out with the green vines, up, up, up so far that it's difficult to tell the difference between the vines of the tomato plant and the branches of the tree it's growing on.
We have a seriously deluded tomato plant.
One of these days, I'm going to walk into the backyard to perform my daily tomato-harvesting activities and discover that the entire plant has shriveled into nothingness because an overnight frost crystallized all the molecules of water in the into cell-wall-shattering shards of ice, and then it will be time to toss the green carcass into the compost and bag the dirt for safekeeping and tear down the planter boxes so that they can be stored in the garage, and thus restore the backyard to its pristine, pre-spring state of nothingness. And all will be ready for the impending snowfall. Which should start right on schedule around November 25th. Covering up all evidence of the travesty that was this year's garden attempt.
I'm not sure what to do about the watermelon plants. They're just as stupid as the tomatoes, although with far less fruit. As in "none". Perhaps because they didn't get planted until late July or early August. If I can keep them alive over the winter, perhaps they'll do something next year; but this year - nada.
And then there's the strawberries, which are just beginning to redden up. And the broccoli, which is sprouting pods again. And the lettuce, which steadfastly refused to do anything except create hundreds of dandelion-like seed parachutes.
Psychotic plants, all of them.
Now that the cooler weather has settled in, it's time to pack it all in. But where? There's no room in the garage. There's no room in the loft. There's no room in the attic. If I had time (and $$$) I'd build a little greenhouse so that they could stay warm all winter long. But there's no room for that. And probably some local ordinance against building greenhouses next to the house. (Don't want another orange sticker, you know!) If I lived on a farm down in Texas, I'd just build me a greenhouse and enjoy puttering in it when the air outside is freezing and the wind is cutting like a knife. Or if I lived down in California, I'd just keep on gardening because it will never get cold enough to freeze anything.
But here in Michigan, it's time to hunker down and think interior thoughts.
And get that exterior cleaned up.
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