Home now — to return to garden harvest — after a week in which we neglected it for some folks festival fun.
I noticed that this is my first of garden notes for August, a sign that my flowers peaked earlier this season. There are just a few daylily blossoms here and there, and I await the emergence of the chrysanthemums. Meanwhile, the bittersweet berries are beginning to turn orange.
This limelight hydrangea also bridges the gap, and the sedum is showing autumn color.
Jim harvested the Yukon Gold potato crop and the carrots. (He dug these early because a renegade rabbit had gotten into the fenced area whilst we were traveling.) He keeps saying this is his best garden ever, and we are grateful for chicken wire.
Here is our pitiful harvest of purple-hulled peas. We used year-old seed and should have known better. Better luck next year, we hope.
I’m healing from a nasty fall that seriously injured my knee while in Colorado, so the garden work will have to be light for me for now. Jim promises he’ll do some of the digging. I don’t do “laid up” well.
The red-breasted nuthatches are darting about in the blue spruce trees calling their quiet and rasping autumn song. The cool days and open windows are a blessing.
At our table last night, for a gathering of friends: walleye, rosemary garlic roasted potatoes, creamed cucumbers, tomatoes, beans, Prosecco and yellow tomato lime sorbet. Cheers!