Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Magic Maine Tomatoes
We took our recent vacation on a sparkly lake in Maine tightly ringed by skyscraper pines. We stayed with wonderful hosts at a friend's "camp" in a delightful cabin. The storybook landscape was the perfect setting to find magic beans for Jack to grow his beanstalk.
To my suprise I did not find magic beans, but fairytale tomatoes. Larry and Carolyn F. grew perfect plants with not a spot of blight or a tinge of yellow on the leaves. The fruit formed perfect orbs with a red so true they appeared plastic. Here's the magic part...they grow in the shade (in Maine) beneath a large evergreen tree. Huh?
In CT my family and I try to follow all the tomato rules. Dry leaves, hot weather, ample spacing and most importantly FULL SUN! So much for the laws of gardening.
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Land of the Lost in my own backyard
I had a big dog that used to play a game in our small, San Francisco back yard. She would crouch down behind the boxwood hedge and raise her head extremely slowly until her eyes could just peer over. She would then hold quite still with the exception of her eyes, which panned side to side, surveying the scene. She played the dinsoaur game everyday. It made us laugh every time. It looked like the slow rise of a brontosaurus from behind a tree in a movie.
Well, that silly old girl has passed away and the yard with a boxwood hedge belongs to someone else now. But just the other day, a dinosaur appeared at my new house. It rose over the peonies when I wasn't looking. After a nice week of summer fun with my kids and neglecting my garden, I found the new visitor during an evening deadheading session. This creature wasn't a dog or a dinosaur, but a prehistoric- looking biennial that I planted last year. Angelica Giga. Each flower head erupts from a primordial shaped bud, startling passers by. It's magnificent. I have always wanted one and had almost forgotten about it until it emerged from behind the hedge (of peonies this time.) This "so ugly it's pretty" specimen only blooms once, the second year, which really makes it an expensive annual. But it is surely worth it. I plan to save the seeds and grow my own. I'll report back in two years.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)