Garden Progress

Queen of Denmark

I was outside before breakfast this morning a bit inclined to feel grumpy after a night with little sleep.

My two surviving David Austin roses are loaded with half-opened buds and the sight of them banished my mental cobwebs.

I made two trips with scissors clipping blooms to bring inside. 

The Poet's wife [yellow]

White single peonies, the first to open.

Jim retrieved the repaired tiller this morning and decreed that we would set out the tomatoes and peppers.

This we accomplished with the usual disagreements about spacing. He plants things too closely and we end up with a mid-summer jungle. I suspect it can't be helped.

Another row of sweet corn went in; this has become a partnership of planting as J. contrived a device made from a length of hollow pipe with a funnel attached to the top. My job is to drop seed into the funnel as J. pokes the pipe at regular intervals along the row.

It beats getting on my knees to plant. I did get down to pick up spilled corn kernels [I didn't spill them!] and had to be ignominiously hauled up onto my feet.

Jim was anxious to put in cucumbers and winter squash--I produced enough small plants for a hill of each, leaving the rest of my seedlings to grow on for another week.

I've pricked out signet marigolds and teddy bear sunflowers from their trays and potted on, as well as the largest of my second crop tomatoes.

Time spent in my tiny greenhouse is always precious. Working in there, handling soil, seeds and plants I am content, almost forgetting that I am 'old,' temporarily shelving various worries and concerns.  

Early yesterday evening as I was tidying the benches before going inside for supper, I felt a stirring as though a breeze had brushed through my hair. 'That's odd,' I thought and half turned to the open door to see if the wind had come up.

It hadn't, but a bluebird had swooped in, its passage creating the small draft I had felt. It fluttered against the roof in the far corner, flailing for a second before reversing and heading back outside.

We weren't familiar with starting beets in cell packs. Matt bought several trays at the Amish auction last month and shared with us. I was dubious, but willing to try as our beet crops from seed have failed the past two seasons. These have taken off sturdily in the raised bins. Yesterday we discovered that the beet seed sowed on April 17th has sprung up. Gardening is full of surprises!

Broccoli and early cabbage plants also from Matt's auction haul. The wire panels are meant to keep cats from investigating. 

We were finishing our garden work when M and G stopped on their way home from today's auction.

We were presented with 2 gallons of strawberries, several hothouse tomatoes.

Berries and cream--before supper--and sliced tomatoes with tuna salad on homemade bread.

I have sliced and frozen about half of the berries, the rest have been tenderly covered with moist paper towels and refrigerated to be dealt with tomorrow. 

I realized late this evening that we had forgotten the Wednesday run to tend Howard's cats.

While they won't have starved I'm chagrined to realize that this responsibility so easily slipped my mind.

We will visit them first thing in the morning.

No time today to read or write.

Thimble-kitten is gearing up for her nightly activities, whacking a large green bottle cap about the room. I am too tired to play 'chase the bottle cap!'

 Tomorrow is another day.