Around here today - Flowers

If you're gonna have dandelions in your yard, you might as well have daisies too. They're in tiny patches here and there. Little habitats. I didn't notice the silky spider threads until I saw this one on the computer. Also, you notice the decapitated stem? That lovely one is in my kitchen.



Hollyhocks. I've tried for three years to get them established outside our barn. A too-mild winter, and ahem... these birds called chickens, took quite a toll. But LOOK! Blooms! Finally, I am getting closer to declaring the hollyhock mission a success. Also? Pink is so not my color, but I'm totally okay with it if that's what it takes.



The cilantro is flowering. Fine by me if it seeds itself again so I don't have to do that next year. A cilantro jungle - that's what we have.



And the dill. I planted it once, like four years ago, and it shows up right on time ever since.







So in conclusion, I probably should have titled this one, "The things that grow all.by.themselves whether I want them to or not, except the stubborn Hollyhocks".

These purple carrots

We're doing a few experiments in our garden again, a collaboration with the NDSU extension. We're nothing special. But we like to think we are, and when I word it like that... it sure sounds like we are. Special, I mean.

This garden just went crazy behind my back these last few weeks. It always does that in July. I figured we had the weeds about 80% under control. And then? July happened.

So I figured we'd better get started taste-testing these odd carrots. They're purple. I guess I told the kids these ones were going to be purple, because they were neither impressed nor surprised. With all the drama we usually have going on around here, I was honestly a bit disappointed.

We picked a few carrots. Carefully. In two bundles as to not get the two varieties mixed up.

'Cause we have to be responsible with this one, you know.


No drama to write home about.

For once.

(Yesterday was a different story... Emergency Room. Stitches. Lots of wailing and snot.)


Oh, and the girl found a very pretty squash. That was after she ate a basil leaf half the size of her head. Now do you think she'd eat a leaf of basil if I handed it to her in the house? No way. These kids always smell very, ummm... culinary(?) after a trip to the garden. One favors the cilantro, and the other two go after the basil, but it has to be foraged completely on their own.

Scratch and sniff: Basil


I'm realizing now these pictures make it look like our garden is on the moon (or Texas?), or mulched with rock, or something. This is actually up on our driveway next to the house. The driveway has weeds too. It keeps the chickens busy. Everything around here has a purpose, people.



Even the squash.

Garden of Summer-past

Goodbye garden. Hello garden-blogging fail.



I'm equal parts thrilled and cringing that October is almost here.

This is my very favorite time of year. Running through crunchy leaves, sipping spiced cider, listening to my chickens sing as they scratch up the last of Summer's bugs, tidying up the garden in perfect hazy afternoon light, hearing combines chewing through the fields surrounding us, constantly sampling bits of whatever is going on or coming off our overworked dehydrator, tripping over the produce that spills out of our entryway and into our home... The whole season is one great big sensory experience, and I love it.

Cringing because, well, these glorious weeks are so fleeting.

And here it is, yes, almost October.


{not snow - cattail seeds}

And I have failed to blog about... anything and everything. But the garden? I barely mentioned it three times. That makes me cringe too. Seedlings in eggshells, harvesting peas, and voluptuous eggplants. That was it.

I did the writing in my head.

Here are handful of abbreviated posts that never made it to press:

1. I neglected far too much of our garden the previous year. The perfect solution to that is obviously to add another fifty square feet and five NDSU home garden variety trials. The observing, learning, comparing, tasting, and ownership the kids had of their trials was a beautiful thing. I wholeheartedly recommend this program to my North Dakota friends!

2. Our pole bean tee-pee was magnificent. I've never grown pole beans before. I underestimated them. It was shocking how the tee-pee went from bare to covered to unrecognizable (in a matter of fourteen days) as the beans went beyond crazy. The cats loved that thing, far too much. They even left offerings exactly in the middle of it. So weird.





3. The younger boy planted sixteen watermelon plants. See variety trials above. See oppressed overworked dehydrator above.



4. Apples! Finally these trees produced enough to justify using the word harvest. And harvest we did. We waited four and a half years for this.


{maybe that one had a bug?}

5. I cannot imagine fall without winter squash. A whole long shelf full. Every one of my seeds rotted in the ground this Spring, and I was irrationally upset about it. Yeah, I know I can get winter squash at the grocery store or the Farmer's Market. It just isn't the same. Then I found a volunteer something among the sunflowers that looked suspiciously gourd-like. Sweet happy day when I realized it was, in fact, winter squash. God does answer insignificant little prayers.

Summer

Would we be this uncivilized if our nearest neighbor wasn't a mile away?


{some of us don't have tan lines}

Definitely.

KinderGARDEN wrap up (all of the above)

Around here, things generally don't go as planned. The garden proved to be no exception.
a. Maybe I was dreaming too big.
b. Maybe the weather was entirely uncooperative.
c. Maybe we just couldn't get our act together.
d. All of the above.



It was a fly-by-the-seat-of-our-pants Spring.
a. Our bean tunnel became a Morning Glory tunnel, and even that almost wasn't.
b. The pumpkins never had a chance.
c. Our corn maze became a popcorn maze.
d. All of the above.



I believe at one point I even said, "To heck with it all", and
a. Hauled one of the kinders off for an afternoon at our favorite greenhouse
b. Pretended that I had a nice un-swampy garden like the city folks do.
c. Resorted to WalMart as a seed source. May God have mercy on my soul.
d. All of the above.



In moments of temporary insanity, we...
a. Did actually work our butts off in the garden.
b. Decided to just grow stuff in the house instead of in the swamp.
c. Handed over too much camera to a kinder and told him to go crazy with it.
d. All of the above



July was the month things really got exciting.
a. We grew baby birds and watched ants tend herds of aphids.
b. Toys, metal ratchet sprinklers and electric fence posts met the wrath of the lawn mower.
c. We Fed ravenous dinosaurs freshly harvested kale.
d. All of the above.



Miracles happened. We started finding all kinds of treasures:
a. Sweet corn by the arm-full
b. Buckets and buckets of glorious raspberries
c. Sweet juicy little melons.
d. The popcorn maze actually grew. Bigger and bigger and more and more fun.









The crown jewel of our KinderGARDEN was without a doubt the popcorn maze along with it's the Morning Glory tunnel entrance and towering sunflower hallway exit.





a. It was theirs.





b. It was fun.





c. Like, really fun.





d. All of the above.

As much as I tried to fight it... it's true. All good things must come to an end.

Linking up one final time this year with The Inadvertent Farmer's KinderGARDENS

The popcorn maze

I'm embracing Tara Whitney's mantra of "perfect imperfection" on these photos. I love them. All of them.

Tell me a popcorn maze isn't fun. I dare you.





Here's where I hold my camera above my head and fire away blindly. Bad focus. Wonky composition. Tell me to delete these two? No. Way.





One of us was not obeying the boundaries of the maize, no matter how many times we tried to correct him of his deviant ways. Guess who.





And then he parked his fat behind in the middle of the sunflower hallway.

Honestly, Marshall.



In other news, a grand total of one of our Morning Glory seeds sprouted.



The Older Brother is so so very excited at how much our poor little pumpkin plant has grown since we transplanted it a week ago. All the pumpkin seeds rotted the first time we planted (are you noticing a trend here?). I can't imagine autumn without pumpkins, so we threw caution to the wind and tried again.



That's right, my friends. We're gonna be harvesting pumpkins when it's twenty below zero.

KinderGARDENS - week 13

4th of July random

My multiple choice 4th of July post last year was an awful lot of fun to write. I entertained the thought of making it a tradition. I'm aware that the 4th was well over a week ago. Don't worry, I won't let that stop me.

If you can't handle a heap of random awesomeness, run far and fast.

Drumroll please...

Some of us fantasize about the lake all winter, and once again it didn't disappoint...
a. because the weather was perfect and our sunblock did it's job.
b. even though there was a dead cow floating around the bend.

c. because the boys took swimming lessons a few weeks ago, and although the instructor just tossed the hesitant kids into the water and let them bawl, our boys are now fish.
d. because we convinced the little brother it was okay to pee in the lake.
e. all of the above.

A camel cricket pooped on the little brother, which caused...

a. him to scream like a little girl.
b. his cousin to be a hero. (I laughed out loud at that ridiculous thought as I typed it)
c. it to escape.
d. his mother to... ummm, I've completely forgotten where I'm going with this.

How about that dead cow!

I took one picture in full automatic mode...
a. just to see what would happen.
b. to prove that I'm not a photo snot. Or, because I couldn't reach the focus button on the backside of my camera. Ah... ah... ah... Ah-chooo!

c. even though I knew it would need some hefty correcting before it was worthy to be processed to a jpg.
d. because my Bean moves at the speed of light, and it's a crying shame how few pictures I have of myself with her.
e. all of the above.

I managed to get myself out of kitchen duty by sticking my arm into the toilet, which was a direct result of...
a. The Bean.
b. simple physics.
c. the previous bathroom occupant not changing the toilet paper.
d. too much alcohol.

This picture is brought to you by...

a. my uncle telling me exactly where I should park my tripod for the best view, and me telling him I had other plans. (Hi Dave!)
b. a cactus that just happened to be precisely where I kneeled, which felt strangely familiar.
c. that darn flag mocking me to get this photo, all the live long day.
d. an eight second exposure.
e. all of the above.