Struggling a Bit Here

JUST LOOK AT ALL THAT CREEPING CHARLIE.
I thought it passe to be concerned about the looks of my lawn. I let two years pass, at first carelessly, and then with mild concern, as I watched the charlie spread through my lawn, nose its way into my raised beds, and appear anew in places unsuitable to its growth preferences. Was I wrong to have done nothing? We know a little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to rest - and charlie will come upon you like a thief, and weeds like an armed man.
Well, here I am, in the weeds. Bellflower too! I could almost wish for a morning glory problem instead of this. I am weeding full weekends when I could be expanding my backyard plot, or even going for a walk and not gardening. The sun has appeared dark to my eyes and I face despair - and so soon after the Lord's Pascha! Weeds are like the sin and temptation that threatens our strength of soul, so we must pluck them out in early spring - only for them to return redoubled in a short time and obliterate our plans to put down a few Kuri Squash and a row of Amish Paste Romas back there.
Isn't that just the way it is; still no wedding garment after all these (10!) years.

From the Final Harvest, Long Ago

The September Garden

As I rightly feared, this year the garden suffered from a string of distractions and a lag of enthusiasm. I threw myself into a design project that overtook what was left of my life (after work, kids, church, being a wife) and used up a great deal of creative energy. We split a CSA share from Turnip Rock Farm, which is always a dream, but it gave me little reason to rely on my own growing space to feed our family throughout the summer. My neighbor and I started a corn patch in back which was poorly planned and poorly tended, and ultimately yielded next to nothing after squirrels and rot took their respective toll. I threw a bunch of plants down where bare earth appeared, without much thought to how they would detract from the overall garden vision - or how they would contribute to the creeping charlie nightmare. Finally, a I think a suburban laziness overtook me. Using the rain barrel seemed an exceedingly tedious task. And not once did I resist the urge to ooze in front of my computer, watching bad TV and scrolling through Facebook (yes, I am on Facebook now; yes, it's everything I thought it would be, and I want to die).

if you look very closely you may see a revolting supper club of beetles, wasps, and flies.

let's hope it grows back 

Needless to say, my first year vigor gave way to a sophomore slump, though a few good deeds were still accomplished. For example, I grew my first decent-sized beets (almost by mistake) in my pine mulch blueberry bed. I had my first successful brussels sprouts, and I had green beans to feed a neighborhood. I put them into excellent use as pickles. I also managed to expand my native perennial border (still without being ticketed by the city!) and experiment with perennials in the kitchen garden.

a few thoughts:

Watch out for that anise hyssop. It spreads like a pernicious weed.

Start your broccoli out in march if possible, and eat real heads, not stringy flowers,

Grow more cabbage and eat, eat, eat sauerkraut.

Finally, don't get too cocky about those tomatoes you saved from seed. They won't be quite what you hoped for.

The Midnight Garden

DEVASTATION

Zack and I were so proud of our corn patch. It grew up beautifully despite the odds, set back by a late start, a weedy early period, and a mere 5.5 hours of daily sun. We saw sweet ears of corn, perfectly formed; blackened silks to alert us to their ripened perfection. A priest visited, commenting on the privilege it would be to put water to the flame, pick ears of corn, and drop it in the pot to cook having lost not a single sugar to starch in the interim.
The next morning, our visions of greatness, hopes, dreams - they were dashed, chewed up, digested, gnawed away. The vile vermin of Heights alleyways! As if on cue, they were collectively possessed, compelled, all at once, to nibble and shred every last ear of sweet corn on every last stalk, leaving us absolutely nothing to enjoy but the wry commentary of Neighbors Randy and Mark.

Zack has taken up his pellet gun against the neighborhood squirrel population. It's genocide before us.

Potato Day

Potato Day in the Hansen garden is fun! Kids and Moms alike love the thrill of digging up tubers. This year our 5-6 potato plants yielded two good potato dinners. Hardly worth it.

NOTHING GOES BETTER WITH POTATOES THAN DELICIOUS GARDEN ONIONS

FENCE DAY

Ben did this today:

The fence. No, those are not our Priuses. Priuii?

tangled native mess

The native garden, finally looking like a garden and not a weed patch. Still pretty weedy though.

I've been growing these since late February.