The Garden Blog

You all may recall from my blog post of July 25 the great luck I was having with my first attempt to grow corn. A big beautiful stalk had grown high in the sky and was starting to form wonderful ears of corn. Then I went out of town for a week -- to Lake Tahoe for a family reunion that included a visit to the Tahoe City Farmers Market (click on the link for to see some of the spectacular heirloom tomatoes found there). Jeff was watering the garden in my absence and when I told him about my trip to the lovely farmers market in Tahoe City, he said that I might want to pick up some corn as the community garden's resident marauding squirrel had had his way with mine. This, my friends, is the destruction left by said marauding squirrel to my lovely corn. To quote one of my neighbor gardener's: Does anyone have a falcon I can borrow?

On the flip side, there is some good news. We've finally had a few days of hot weather hit Southern California (don't check your calendars, yes, it is August 26) and on my visit to the garden yesterday I saw that most lovely of sights: a baby Hokkaido watermelon (pictured left). It's interesting that the Hokkaido watermelon is the one finally bearing fruit because, of the half dozen different melon plants currently in the garden, it was one of the slower starters as a seedling. 

I also saw -- and I didn't photograph them for fear of scaring them or jinxing the whole process -- a few baby green tomatoes on the tomato plant that volunteered last month. If it does actually bear fruit, it will be the only one to do well this whole summer. And, yes, again I have to say that it is August 26. It's just over a week before Labor Day and our summer is just beginning. Keep your fingers crossed!

It's the weather I'm talking about: good for people, not for tomatoes. Here in the Los Angeles area, we've had one of the gloomiest summers on record. Now I, personally, am not complaining. I hate the heat and the sun hates me so okay, fine. It's the garden that's complaining. And not even all of the garden -- just the tomatoes and the melons. They get started and then a heavy gloom (complete with morning drizzle) kicks up and they just kind of stop in their tracks. Mostly they don't grow any fruit. I just took a look at some of last summer's entries on the garden blog -- the beauty of a blog is the ability to look and see where things stood year to year (a good reminder to keep a garden journal in whatever form) -- and by mid July I was enjoying tons of tomatoes and by August the melons were well on their way.

Well, it's the first week of August and I just pulled out the tomatoes that had volunteered way back in March because they just got sad looking and weren't offering many decent tomatoes. In the meantime, a new volunteer tomato plant is making its way into the world, as you can see in the above photo, taken of the far east side of my plot a few days ago (it's between the lettuce on the far left and the roses in the middle -- and it's grown in the days since I took this photo).

This photo is actually kind of a microcosm of the garden right now. First of all, it's got that messy look that seems to happen in the summer, plus the new lattice fence I put in to keep my neighbor's REALLY messy garden from encroaching on mine. From left to right, you've got your very happy lettuces, the volunteer tomato, some happy roses, a melon (the Algerian, in front of the roses) just starting to meander, near corn just starting to grow -- and a chocolate sunflower (in the upper right) that's not only not flowering but, because it didn't develop a strong enough stalk, fell over after this photo was taken. The weather: good for garden, not for sunflower. Sigh.

The biggest secret of the corn is that, well, so far I have no secrets. This is my first year growing corn and I'm only growing it because Jeff picked up some seeds on a whim (Silver Queen Hybrid Sweet Corn from Cornucopia, which it would appear is a division of Renee's Garden Seeds sold at Orchard Hardware) so I'm pretty much learning as I go. And mostly what I'm learning  is that corn GROWS - and, when it reaches a certain level, it grows FAST and up (vs. the melons which, as we all now know, grow out, and around and over and through -- but I digress).

Here are two pictures taken less than one week apart. The one above was taken on July 18. The one below taken July 24. You can't really tell from the photo, but the corn stalk grew like a foot in less than week and is now over 6-feet tall. As you can see from the photo, the little tendril thingies inside the top of the stalk emerged triumphantly from the stalk and changed color from green to a vibrant lavender. It almost doesn't even look like the same stalk, right? And if you want to see what it looked like less than two months ago when the first little seedlings poked up above the earth, check out the bottom photo on the blog post dated May 31.

I spread out the planting of the corn seeds -- three seeds each about 2-3 weeks apart -- so once this first stalk gets going, the others should follow and we should be having sweet white corn through fall. Can't wait!

I'd like to say it's because the sun has arrived (with a vengeance) this week that everything in the garden has moved into hyper-drive growth-wise, but really it started last week when we were still having mostly gray days. The garden must've been able to feel the warmth of the sun behind those clouds because, after taking a little time to just hang out, the melons have begun to make their move in a way that rivals the tomato plant I put in just a month ago that's already outgrowing its cage. In this photo you can see both the tomato plant (on the left) and the Hokkaido watermelon. It was taken July 12, so just one week after the photo in the previous blog and the Hokkaido has meandered a good 10 inches. And, as I said, the sun has arrived (with a vengeance) and that should move it into, well, whatever's faster than hyper-drive. 

To give you an idea of where everything stands: The Hokkaido is in the southwest corner of my community garden plot. The French cantaloupe (aka the Chanterais) is in the southeast corner of the plot and the Italian melon (aka the Marina di Chioggia) is about six feet to the west pretty much in the center of the bed on the south side. The last two melons to be planted -- the Algiers (Melon d'Alger) and the African (which is where it is thought the White Wonder Watermelon originated) -- are pretty close to the north east and north west corners, respectively. So, yes, although they're all starting out in their separate corners, we have the potential for a veritable United Nations out there. Any bets on how long it will take before at least one of them finds another to mingle with?

Lastly, and just because, well, I have to and because it fits with the theme of little guys starting their growth sputs: here is a photo of my dad's new English Bulldog puppy, Buster.  Adorable, right? Feel free to oooo and awww at your leisure. That's all.

Yesterday was the annual Fourth of July potluck in the community garden. I have to admit it was a little embarrassing when someone introduced me as the "watermelon queen." For one, I don't take any credit for the crazy watermelons I've grown the last two summers as I think it has more to do with the location of my garden plot (against the cement wall, which holds the heat) than anything I personally have done. And also, well, "watermelon queen" -- really? That said, perhaps because of the proclivity of my garden space when it comes to melons, I've added a few more to the mix. As you may recall, I already have the Hokkaido going (from a seed harvested from one of last year's melons). It was the slowest of the seeds to start in my kitchen window but, as you can see from this photo (it's the vine hanging on to the watering can), it's pretty happy now and already starting to make its move. The Cantalupo de Charentais and the Marina di Chioggia (to the far right in the photo below) are also beginning to branch out from their respective spots in the garden.

To that mix, I've added two new varieties from seeds I got from the Baker Creek Heirloom Seeds company. I learned about this company in a strange way: One day I came to my garden and found their catalog, along with two seed packets (for lettuce and for okra and if anyone wants the okra seeds, please let me know) sitting on the bench. I'm still not sure who left me the catalog or the seed packets but am very glad they did as the more I learned about the company, the more it's one I'd love to let more people know about. All their seeds are heirloom -- some very rare and from all over the world. Although based in Missouri, they also have a Seed Bank -- an heirloom seed store in an old bank building -- in Petaluma and publish the Heirloom Gardener magazine.

I also learned that they're the type of company that when you order a packet of seeds they send you a second packet for free. That wasn't just a fun surprise when I ordered some seeds myself but also the answer to why the okra and lettuce (and not just any lettuce but Lettuce Marveille des Quatre Saisons or "Marvel of Four Seasons") packets ended up on my bench. Obviously my mystery benefactor thought I should have these seeds (and I think someone else, really, should enjoy the okra). I myself ordered the Watermelon White Wonder ("so pale it's almost transparent") -- how could I not, right? And, when I received my package, was delighted to discover a packet of Melon d'Alger ("another colorful ancient French cantaloupe") as well. Both were started in my kitchen window and now take a place in the garden. The Melon d'Alger seed started first and is shown above (below the white marker) right after planting. The Watermelon White Wonder went in yesterday -- on the 4th of July. Better than fireworks any day, right?