Summer update, and some recipes

I'm back in the garden again, having gotten a green light from my chiropractor to resume (cautiously) my regular activities. I find there's nothing quite like digging out the Bermuda grass from the raised beds supposedly reserved for vegetables and flowers, to channel feeling of stress into something productive. I haven't been able to do that for a while, and I'm enjoying it- albeit in five minute intervals, because the temperatures here are above 100 degrees most of the time.

My current project involves planting things in the bare spaces left when I pulled out the broccoli, lettuce, spinach, nasturtiums, and larkspur. I seeded a border of sweet allysum around the perimeter of a couple of the raised beds, and I finally found some honeydew plants at Summer Winds nursery. It's rather late to plant them, even as transplants, but I thought I'd give it a shot. I'm trying a new planting method I observed in San Diego in a community garden...digging wells around the plants rather than planting them in the traditional mounds. Theoretically, that ought to help keep moisture around the plant's roots, which is always a challenge with new plantings in hot weather. I did mound up the soil a bit right around the stem of the plant, so water won't collect next to it. (not that there is much risk of that this time of year!)

We picked the last of the apricots and early peaches, and several varieties of tomatoes are doing very nicely. Our old standbys of cherry, Roma, and Early Girl tomatoes are already bearing, and some of the new ones we're trying this year have nice-sized green fruit. I found a delicious recipe for fish with roasted cherry tomatoes here and served it with roasted broccoli (my favorite recipe for that here) For dessert we had apricots in orange juice (recipe I used here) As you may guess, I enjoy trying new ways to prepare the food that comes out of our backyard as much as I enjoy experimenting with new things to grow and different ways to grow them.

Considering the lilies of the field

Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?

The closest thing we have here to "lilies of the field" is Mexican primrose, one of the plants at the top of my "things I wish I hadn't planted" list. It reproduces by both seeds and runners, and if I'm not very aggressive about weeding it out, it could take over the planet....or at least our backyard piece of it. As you can see from the photo above, I haven't been sufficiently aggressive lately. Two weeks of vacation followed closely by forced inactivity due to lower back issues = the invasion of the Mexican primroses. But they are beautiful.
My chiropractor has temporarily forbidden me from "lifting and bending over" which precludes a lot of garden activity. But walking is supposed to be good for me, so I can still enjoy my neglected garden by walking in it, which I do several times a day. I find that, because I can't do the things I think need to be done, I perhaps notice things I might not otherwise have seen. The peaches I had so carefully thinned are rather small, and I wonder why. Did I not thin them enough, or give them enough water and fertilizer? We experimented with several new plantings this year, and potatoes are going gangbusters in three different locations, but the raspberries I planted in a carefully-chosen sheltered location look terrible. There are tiny figs on the fig tree, and the Don Juan and Iceberg climbing roses may not be trellised properly, but they smell heavenly.
My Mexican primroses, and the "lilies of the field" passage remind me that life goes on just fine with or without our intervention. I'd be embarrassed if the RGFRP selection committee came to visit right now, because I don't think it would be what they are looking for. Yet it is beautiful in its own way, and I enjoy walking through it and noticing what has sprung up, all on their own, without any help from me. I realize that I'm a controller....I think that by thought and planning and making good choices, I can control life. But that's not true. I can increase the odds in a particular direction, but I am not in charge. And yet, there is still surprising beauty, and resilience. Life will find a way.

Surprised by apricots

I just noticed that there are several dozen marble-sized apricots on two different trees. I hadn't seen them before...maybe I was too busy thinning peaches and pulling weeds to see them. I wonder how many times in life we miss seeing beautiful things because we are too busy with necessary tasks?

On thinning peaches

"...every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful."

We're still thinning peaches on our oldest, earliest-bearing peach tree. Last year a late frost killed most of the blossoms before they could set fruit, but this year it seems that every blossom turned into a baby peach. Once the fruit is marble sized, you're supposed to thin it, leaving a 5 inch space between peaches. There are hundreds of peaches in doublets and triplets and clusters on every branch, and these need to be culled from hundreds to dozens. If you don't thin peaches sufficiently, the fruit won't have enough nutrients to mature into tasty, eating-size peaches, and too heavily laden limbs can break. So I'm thinning peaches, and as often happens when I'm working in the garden, thoughts about God and life come into my mind.

It's still the season of Lent, when tradition has it we're supposed to give careful consideration to spiritual things. Many people give up something they enjoy for Lent, or use it as some kind of second-chance New Year's resolution to give up a bad habit or start a good one. So, as I'm thinning peaches, I started thinking about sermons I've heard about culling things from your life that get between you and God, or spending extra time in acts of service to others. However, this isn't the direction my thoughts went today. There's nothing wrong with most of the peaches I'm discarding. There are just too many of them, and if I leave too many small peaches on the tree, I won't have any big ones, they won't taste as good, and the tree could be harmed.

Is it possible that sometimes what we need to "give up" is doing too much, even if the things we are doing are good things?

Spring has sprung!

Now blooming in Arizona Backyard Eden:

Nasturtiums, Bachelor's Button, Larkspur, California Poppy, Gaillardia, Snapdragon, Allysum, Roses, Gladiola, Nectarine, Apple, Apricot, Pear, Plum. Cilantro

Now eating: Lettuce, Spinach, Sugar snap peas, Asparagus, Broccoli, Oranges, Grapefruit, Lemons

Now planting:Yellow squash, Zucchini ,Eggplant, Armenian cucumber. I've planted some directly in the ground, and some in peat pots to be transplanted later wherever I find room. No seedlings spotted yet.

We should have a bumper crop of peaches this year as we didn't get a late frost like we did last year; right now they are marble-size, so we're busy thinning them out. We're trying a couple of kinds of heirloom tomatoes this year in addition to the Roma, Early Girl, and cherry tomato staples. The other main garden task this year is trying to stay ahead of the weeds.

Messy things

I was excited to receive an email yesterday from the chair of this year's Real Gardens for Real People tour informing me that she was forwarding information about our "Arizona Backyard Eden" to the people who are planning the 2013 tour. Because the 2011 tour was in the west valley area, it's not likely that another tour will be scheduled in this part of the valley, but her email was very affirming and complimentary. It did get me to thinking "what if", though. What if our garden is selected for a future RGRP tour? Although productive and pleasurable, it's rather messy compared to the ones we visited on last year's tour.

There's a large pile of vegetable debris under the lemon tree, evidence of our current experimentation with open-air composting. We have two purchased compost bins, a traditional squarish one and a cylindrical tumbler contraption. Neither have worked very well for us, most likely because I haven't been diligent about keeping the material in them sufficiently moist. So this time when I cleaned out the broccoli and cauliflower leaves after last harvest, I just dumped them on the ground under the lemon tree. It's too shady to successfully grow much under there anyway. I also dump coffee grounds, banana peels, and other kitchen scraps directly into the raised beds outside the kitchen. Not very attractive, but the vegetables and flowers growing in them seem to like these additions. I also don't rake up fallen leaves from around the citrus trees in the gravel yard; they too compost in place and add needed organic material to the heavy clay soil.

Then there are the dandelion-type weeds, which seem to explode on some kind of exponential curve this time of year. I don't "dig up" the beds very often- an idea I took from a Phoenix Permaculture Guild class- and I prefer to minimize the use of chemicals, so that means lots of hand pulling of weeds, which takes lots of time I don't always have. Our largest pond is currently overwhelmed by cattails that are crowding out the water lilies. (Cattails are #3 on my list of "things I wish I hadn't planted", along with Mexican primrose and Mexican petunia.) Of course, the fish don't seem to mind living in an underwater jungle, and the hummingbirds can use the cattail fluff as nesting material. The sandstone pieces lining our lower pond are crumbling in places because I step on them while dipping water out to water potted plants...but the plants love the nitrogen-rich pond water.

Yes, our yard is messy, all right. Hopefully I'm not justifying my own laziness, but I see meaning in its messiness. When I think about it, life can be pretty messy too. We can spend our time raking gravel and spraying weeds into submission, and end up with a barren moonscape of a yard...or a life. I think I'd rather tolerate....and maybe even learn to appreciate.....a little messiness.

No picture this time, though! Not comfortable enough with my messes for that!

Of springtime and ashes

"What a wondrous time in spring, when all the trees are budding. The birds begin to sing; the flowers start their blooming. That's how it is with God's love, once you've experienced it. You want to sing; it's fresh like spring; you want to pass it on."

Yesterday was Ash Wednesday, the beginning of Lent, which I never have fully understood, perhaps because of my non-liturgical upbringing. Our pastor says Lent is her favorite season...I can't say that I feel the same way. Lent is sackcloth and ashes and repenting our sinful nature, which may be necessary, but is not enjoyable, and (I hope I don't get struck by lightning) seems somewhat masochistic to me. Maybe it works better in more temperate climates, where February is still winter, rather than in Phoenix, where it marks the beginning of spring.

Our earliest-bearing peach tree is setting fruit; a later bearing variety is covered in blossoms; and the apricot and almond trees are also beginning to blossom. I've already picked a nice batch of sugar snap peas and a few asparagus shoots (only because I only planted two plants....must remedy that!) and our second planting of lettuce is reaching harvest-size leaves. Pear, plum, fig, and apple have not yet blossomed, but have full buds I expect to see open any day now. Some of the nasturtiums are blooming (maybe I should pick a few and add to the lettuce for a salad tonight); lilac vines are blooming, and the air is becoming heady with the fragrance of citrus. Calla lilies, which I'd wondered if had survived, are emerging from the ground...larkspur and hollyhock are coming up everywhere, in unexpected locations. Even in the gravel part of the yard I'm seeing marigolds, hollyhocks, nasturtiums...to quote my favorite Jurassic Park quote, "life will find a way."

And, there are a few weeds that need to be pulled. There are always a few weeds to be pulled, and it's generally best to pull them early before they have a chance to grow to giant size and set seed. I can see that part of Lent. There are weeds to be pulled in our lives, and with weeds, it's generally best to pull them when they are small and manageable. But in my garden, and I think also in our lives, it's an ongoing process. And I don't want to concentrate so much on the weeds that I can't enjoy the flowers.