The Determined Gardener

Three nights of hard frost during the first week of May did considerable damage, in spite of our care in covering everything vulnerable.

Above is one of the least damaged of the tomato plants--the largest ones, with blossoms and tiny green tomatoes forming, were a complete loss.

Today we set out 8 more tomato plants that I raised from seed; 4 of them are heirlooms saved from our neighbor's garden at the farm.  He lost the tag, so I refer to them as 'Fred's Pink'--a meaty later season variety with rose-red skins.

The other 4 are an early variety, Independence Day.  I will be surprised to see a ripe tomato by July 4th this year!

My favorite garden center in the Mennonite/Amish community at South Fork, posted on their Face Book page that they were completely out of bedding size tomato plants as of Friday and had a new crop coming on; this suggests that the killing frost was wide spread resulting in a mad rush of gardeners to replace damaged plants.

I have a dozen more tomato plants potted on a few days ago--a variety new to me--Abe Lincoln.

 Also planted out today were cucumbers, cantaloupe, and Butternut Squash. 

A third try on green beans--no germination on earlier plantings, so either the cold wet weather is to blame or bad seed.  We seem to be settled into the normal warmth of May which should encourage quick germination.

Glancing out the front windows on my way into the kitchen Tuesday morning, I was astonished to see our neighbor's cattle strolling through the garden.

The Brahman bull is a mild seeming creature, but we didn't take chances.

Jim did the time honored thing of shouting and waving his arms, then herded the cattle with his truck.

The cattle milled about, straggled down the lane.

J. chased them, engine revving, horn blaring and ran them up the lane, then located their owner.

The private road branches into three properties here--the middle one is owned by a man who is frequently out of state, but allows his pasture to be used.

Turns out he came in late at night, neglected to close the gate.

As soon as the cattle heard their owner's truck roar up the lane, they trotted obediently into the designated pasture and the gate was clanged shut.

It was too wet, the soil too cold for several days to clean up and replant. Poking about along the west retaining wall, I spied a salamander.  These little creatures [Pseudotriton ruber] were common in Vermont--I've not often seen them here. 

 Trying to get a better photo angle on the salamander I was startled when a toad bounced alongside.

Willis is committed to assisting in the gardens.

Willis is also insistent that the newly planted herb garden is the place for him to sprawl in comfort.

I've stuck plastic cutlery around the latest additions to the plot, but he can fold himself around such barricades. 

More help than I need, but Willis can't be faulted for loyalty.

I am determined to clear this area of weeds. The soil here is the heavy stuff that was excavated for construction and then back-filled. The window looks into the downstairs guest room. Beyond the foxglove and three David Austin roses is a mere rubble of small stones and the coarse weeds that so quickly invaded. 

The spot under the window is grubbed clear--no small job this afternoon--and a tentative plan begins to emerge. 

More digging needed, compost, top soil, constant vigilance against encroaching weeds, and maybe I can achieve something that will please the eye.

Ne rest for the weary, but still determined gardener.