My tomatoes have begun to flower. And flowers because fruit. With 35 plants in and growing well I am hopeful for an abundance of tomotoes soon. I do enjoy the anticipation in the measured progress of growing vegetables.
Oh quel plaisir to dig in the soil with a brand new trowel. The crisp, pointed edge goes into the dirt so easily, the smooth wooden handle a pleasure to hold. It makes weeding almost fun.
Tomato seedlings are in the ground. The rule in Ballarat is not to plant them out until after Melbourne Cup Day for fear of frost. A dozen are now in two neat rows, ready to grow like billy-o. May the vegetable gods smile upon them!
One crop of broad beans means broad beans in perpetuity. This year's crop I put zero effort into, except for harvesting a big box this morning. Thank you for feeding me, mother nature.
It may look like a sad little veggie patch, but it is in fact a new bed, full of the promise of salads to come. Freshly weeded and dug over, it is now home to a flock of baby lettuce beginning their journey into the big wide world, shepherded by the oregano and chamomile.
It's fun to plant seeds. I sprinkle them on the dirt, water them in and promptly forget I have done so. Then one day I get a wonderful surprise to find they're sprouting tiny little leaves. Lettuce abundance is just around the corner.
From little things big things grow. Isn't that the truth when we're talking about zucchinis? I can hear the zucchini growers out there nodding their heads vigourously. One day you notice a cute little zucchini on the plant and you think, I'll just leave it a day or two and it will be perfect. Two
Beta vulgaris of the Chenopodiaceae family is a descendant of Sea Beet from the Mediterranean coast. It self-seeds in my garden with gay abandon and when they first pop their heads up, the baby red rainbow chard plants are as cute as a button. They are tough, grow quickly and look wonderful in rows in
I found a bucket of old seeds in the shed. When I say old, I mean pushing a decade. But I'm an optimist, so I planted anything that should be planted in autumn, whispered an incantation over the veggie patch and crossed my fingers. The optimist in my failed to note what I planted where
The season is a strange one this year on many levels. The tomatoes are late and not very prolific, but the ones I have managed to coax into existence are quite delicious. Sweet, juicy, and zingy, the little red orbs hang like jewels from the dying branches. They shout their tiny victory over the weather
