Oh, Those Tomatoes!

 When will I ever learn?  Every year when I start to sow seeds for the garden (early spring), I have dozens of folks claim, "Oh, I would love a few plants for my garden!"  So....I sow.  I plant far too many seeds and, when the time comes, I cannot pawn the plants off on anyone!   Well, two of my sisters-in-law, took a few plants but, other than that, the others made excuses.  I heard..."I cannot dig my garden plot." to "Gardening seemed like fun but now it is too hot."  Yeah, well, what am I to do with a bajillion tomato plants?  I plant...and plant...and plant.  The garden plot has nothing but tomatoes this year.  Then, there are those that are dotted in the flower beds and any other available spot.  Thankfully, Mark made a ton of garden boxes this spring so the cucumbers, squash, peppers and green beans all have their own space...but, oh, those tomatoes.

  The plants grew to unheard of heights and started plopping over onto each other.  Each was crated but they soon outgrew the crates and decided to hug each other.  I hated to try staking simply because each plant was loaded with tiny fruit...seriously...loaded!  For the past week or so, those tomatoes have started ripening.  Usually, they are allowed to fully ripen on the plant as that gives them the sweetest flavor.  Even the cardinals that also occupy the Small Gardens decided that the fruit were delectable.  Before I knew it, five large tomatoes were half pecked to pieces by the male cardinal as he toted tidbits back to his ladylove on the nest.  While this is awfully heartwarming, the critter was ruining my plans of harvesting ALL of the tomatoes.  (I am also positive that he ate his share, as well.)  There was nothing to do but pick the ripest tomatoes. 

  While I understand the cardinal's plight of finding food, I have difficulty seeing the positive side of people's desire for my ripened tomatoes.  Sorry, folks.  If you cannot make the least bit of an effort to care for a plant after it is offered to you, do not assume that you can raid my garden.  Yep, I am that way.  I will give and give to those in need, the elderly and any who lift a helping hand but not those that come across as lazy and greedy.  It appears that the "Little Red Hen Syndrome" is spreading.  (If you are not familiar with the term..look it up.  It is a real thing...just based on a children's book from back in the day.  It says volumes even though it is a short, lighthearted tale.)  Folks, my advice is this...if you wish to reap the rewards, lend a helping hand.  I will give "til the cows come home" but not to those who will not help themselves.  But...in the meantime, oh, those tomatoes!  Those beautiful, ripe tomatoes that will soon be tasty sauce for the pantry shelf!

Watching the Gardener

   As I was on my hands and knees transplanting cauliflower into the garden rows, a sudden feeling overcame me.  Eerily it felt as if someone (or something) was watching me.  Hmmm?  Where is that goofy cat?  Bat, the Bayou Prince Cat, has a sneaky way of creeping up on you and silently watching your every move.  He just sits and stares, then, suddenly darts out of his hiding spot to nearly knock you off your feet.  I am sure he is just being playful but, I have to admit, he has caught me off guard on several occasions.  A 16lb cat can really pack a wallop when it wants.  Anyway, no cat could be seen lurking nearby nor was any snoopy person in the area so I went back to my planting.

  Then...the feeling returned.  Something had to be watching me!  I usually get gut-feelings and tend to follow them.  This gut-feeling was not leaving so I needed to find the "watcher".  My search took me outside the garden gate and down the hill where I could get a better view of the garden perimeter.  Still...nothing.  I was just about to shrug off the feeling as a fluke when a loud "Kee-aah" followed by four more of the same came from the top of the dead oak tree.  Ahh, there is my watcher!  A beautiful, red shouldered hawk was perched on the tiptop of the tree and had the perfect view of this old lady in her garden.

  The sighting of the hawk pleased me as I know that my plants will be protected from varmints.  These hawks are agile hunters that can drop silently from a treetop to the garden without a rodent ever being aware of their presence.  Red shouldered hawks will eat most any small mammal, bird or reptile that they can catch but I am in hopes that this one will merely catch whatever munches my cauliflower plants!  I welcomed the hawk to the garden and I went back to work with my transplanting.  My garden is late as I was sidelined by a brief bout of sickness.  It is past time to get those plants to growing!

"Learning to Cauliflower"

   Growing up on the farm, we never planted cauliflower.  The fields were planted with crops that were "longer producing" meaning you could harvest numerous times from one planting.  This was done to make the best use of the area, workforce and time.  My memories of cauliflower are strictly of this being a "treat" for Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners.  It was "special".  

  For the past few years, I have grown cauliflower in the Small Gardens with iffy success.  The plants would grow but the heads never looked like that wonderfully white (huge) head from the store.  So, I set out to learn how to achieve that.  This year proved to be a good "training" year.  Mark bought seeds for my winter garden in the early fall.  He brought the usual assorted seeds...greens, cabbages, broccoli, cauliflower and peas.  Come October, I had the seeds in and felt that I could handle this winter garden with ease since so many people had asked for seedlings.  There were a LOT of seeds in those packets.  Approximately 100 of each type!  I planted them all.  Obviously, there were only two broccoli seeds in the whole lot.  All of what was supposed to be broccoli turned out to be cauliflower!  TWO HUNDRED cauliflower plants...and, get this...nary a person showed up to get their seedlings.  The vegetable plot spilled over into the flower gardens.  Those seedlings were planted far to close together and in the oddest spots.  Not only in the ground but in any empty pot that I could find.  Cauliflower plants were everywhere!

  The goofy things were super slow growing and I pondered if I would ever get a single head.  Son and I decided to eat cauliflower "greens" (which, by the way, are delicious!).  I fretted that snipping the leaves might hinder the growth of heads but since we had so many, it seemed logical.  Now...this week...the cauliflower has decided to head.  I have cauliflower!  The first few immediately turned a rosy pink and were bitter.  Oh, yeah...I remember reading somewhere that I needed to "tie up" the leaves to protect the head from the sun.  Well, I am lazy.  Instead of going to the trouble of tying the leaves, I merely bent the large leaves over the head until the stems snapped.  They were still connected and formed the perfect thatched "roof" over the head.  Within two days, the head went from about the size of a golf ball to almost the size of a nice, rounded volley ball!  The heads were about 8 inches in diameter and snowy white!  Oh, my!  Maybe bending the leaves was not such a bad idea!  In fact, it was rather exciting to open the leaves to find the head...almost like unwrapping a gift!

  What a treat to be able to make a quick dash to the garden to gather lunch.  The cabbages and cauliflower are favorites but beets, mustard greens and green peas are tops, also.  All of these plants can handle cold weather pretty well and should be considered.  I worried that a freeze might damage the plants but then found out that the temperatures would have to dip well below the freezing mark for a good number of days before it would harm them.  (Think below 20 degrees!)  Here in the Deep South, our winters are mild so the plants did their own things and did it well.

How Brightly You Shine!

   Before starting the day's chores, I made my way to the small vegetable plot to check the progress of the fall/winter garden.  A few days ago, broccoli, beet, spinach, cauliflower and cabbage seeds had been put in the ground and it should be about time for them to be sprouting.  The garden is going to have to have careful watering since we are having a dry spell.  There is a slight chance of rain for the next few days so, hopefully, the seeds will get a good soaking.  Each row had tiny plants just showing through their soft blanket of garden soil!  There is something magical about knowing a garden will soon be in the works and fresh veggies will be on the table all winter.

  While strolling around admiring the wee plants, a morning glory bloom made me smile.  The tiny thing was on a vine no longer than a pencil.  It is a late growing plant that sprouted from seeds cast off from the summer plants.  The deep purple stood out sharply against the green mishmash of plants that surrounded it.  Yep, I need to cut the grass on that side of the garden but that can wait for a few days.  The morning glory was too pretty to eliminate. 

  What struck me was how brilliantly the center of the bloom glowed.  It was almost as if a tiny light bulb was shining inside.  Ahh, if only we could shine so brightly and bring so much happiness.  Little morning glory shall stay for a while longer.