The Autumn chill is really late in coming this year here in my tree surrounded property and much of my summer garden is still perky. So I have had a creative impulse to see if I could keep it that way until my Open Studio on November 4th and 5th utilizing some frost gardening tricks gleaned from my years in California.
When I woke early the other morning I saw that temps were dropping at sunrise to 32°; our first frost—and a surprise. So I scooted out with head lamp donned to bring in the last of the vegetable garden across the road. Fried green tomatoes, chili tomato chutney and the rest to dry and grind into powder.
But in the gardens on our side of the road at my home and studio doors, I was not yet ready to let them go. The turkish eggplants are just now turning orange and I had envisioned that splash of color into autumn. The dahlias on the other side of the walkway are still going and, because I love the combination of the two tones flanking the walkway as we enter the home and studio, I decided to try to keep them going.
I put plastic garbage bags over the eggplant and a heavy sheet over the dahlia. It worked! I put some mulch around their bases for further protection and will continue to cover them when the temps get low at night. With days still going into the 70’s my little green-house effect may keep them going until Open Studio. Fingers crossed!
Gradations of warm to cool, orange to pink, yellow to green.
Color theory class Recognizing Color; Learning to see Hue. Saturday January 13, 2018.
I haven’t written much about my gardens this year. It has been a rough, slow start for most of them. My breast cancer slowed me down in the spring when I should have been tending to their new growth, the continual sprummer rain and darkness on beds that were planted for dryness and sun mooshed, damaging hail storms shredded, and, to be honest, my husband and I have been having too much darn fun every Sunday off the property when I normally would be putzing out there.
None the less, nature has its way. Mid August heat and the organic fertilizer I liberally applied—that I normally do in the spring—has given both of us hope. Something a true gardener is never without. But frankly, I don’t mind a bit-messy garden. It is a symbol of other things pressing on one’s time—fun or duty—and I can appreciate that; no judgement here. The mess can also the humbling effects of nature. One weed pulled today is another weed tomorrow. As Michael Pollan so humorously points out in his book Second Nature, man against nature is a philosophical never-ending battle, one I choose to relinquish now and again. Going with the natural flow of things, living in the moment…I learned this a lot in the garden this year.
Blue doesn’t always stay blue and fading can be nice…we all fade.
We planted late. Sometimes we get a late start in life and big isn’t always better.
Toby, our natural grass barber. Never let your hair cut define you.
Sometimes all one needs is a good sit and the color red.
…or pink and orange.
Herbs are hardy. Don’t forget that by adding spice in your life you will become more hardy too.
Next year I will make the brick edging that will keep the dirt in the beds in place; next year, next year. You do what you can do, “You get what you get and don’t get upset”; Pinkalicious.