OUR BELOVED ANDRE THE DOODLER IS OFF this week, muttering something as he trudged out about summer “holiday” with “the Missus,” but my oldest orange Clivia, which normally blooms in April, is present and accounted for (above). So are a pair of gray foxes, who decided to spend last weekend with me eating apples off my trees. True. I have a photo to prove it (not great, but hey, they were way across the yard; at least I tried). [Read more...]
andre’s on vacation, but my clivia isn’t
my august garden chores
I SOMETIMES THINK THAT AUGUST, not April, is the cruelest month (though T.S. Eliot famously thought otherwise, and spelled it cruellest for good measure). Hazy, hot and humid…and plum tuckered out. But give up we must not. Every weed pulled now is a hundred you don’t have to deal with later (well, who knows the precise math of mama weed to baby weed, but you get the idea: prevention). Don’t let them go to seed. But that’s not all there is to do around here, so let’s get started on the list a day or two early: [Read more...]
starting tuesday: 4-week summer food event!
T HOSE OF YOU WHO HAVE BEEN AROUND AWHILE may recall Food Fest, a cross-blog collaboration in 2008 that lasted all harvest season long. This year, I’ve agitated and cajoled some of my favorite food-blogging friends into creating Summer Fest, a four-week celebration of fresh-from-the-garden food: recipes, growing tips, even tricks for storing and preserving summer’s best. I think we’ve assembled a pretty diverse team to treat you to the delights of the season, but there’s one thing missing, the secret ingredient to a successful fest of any kind: your participation. Here’s how the series will work this year, and how you can join in, starting tomorrow, when we kick off the festivities with Herb Week. [Read more...]
the promise of roasted brussels sprouts
THE PROMISE OF ROASTED BRUSSELS SPROUTS is what keeps me from turning under much of the vegetable garden, after record rains brought havoc to some crops. I’ve harvested five cherry tomatoes and as many beans so far, sigh, in a season that began with an abundance of asparagus but then fizzled. At least my salad bowl‘s been full nonstop. I like the way the tiny buds of sprouts-to-be are developing in the leaf axils of this Brussels sprouts plant, and the dreamy nature of the photo; it all seems to fit the kind of dreamy mindset I need to stay in to believe that there will be a plentiful harvest of something, after all that effort, and all that hope. You? Any crops coming into focus?
doodle by andre: new privacy policy
A PPARENTLY THE VOICE OF JACK THE DEMON CAT, who lives in a shed of his own here, can be heard all the way in Nebraska by doodling Andre. Isn’t that what this illustration is about: my nocturnal killer cat who entertains who knows what out there all night long? Or am I missing something? Wait, Jack doesn’t usually say “bloody” (though things get that way when he’s on the prowl: weasel tails, anyone?). What do you think is going on in Andre’s shed, dare I ask (and what’s up in yours)?
questions, anyone? (or, careful what you ask.)
P EOPLE LIKE TO ASK ME QUESTIONS, GARDENING QUESTIONS. It’s been happening for a couple of decades, and lately, well, lately it’s getting worse (better?). More urgent, you might say, as in more urgent garden questions than ever. Take the recent case of April from Kansas, who found out about me from Marilyn from Kansas, who found out about me from…well, hmmm, where did she come from? [Read more...]
ask my friends: profile of ‘birdlike, neurotic’ me
A LITTLE KNOWLEDGE IS A DANGEROUS THING, right? When you say yes to a friend interviewing you (and then she asks other friends for quotes)…well, a little knowledge results in a sweet profile laced with some hilarious one-liners. Read what my sister-blogger Paige Smith Orloff wrote about me in the current issue of Berkshire Living magazine, and how my close friend Andrew Beckman summed up my current state of affairs, post-corporate life: “She is more neurotic than ever. But she is also getting more in tune with her garden and the natural world.” Both Paige (who calls me “birdlike,” which I quite like, and says I live in my own “personal retreat and laboratory”) and Andrew (takes one to know one, dollface) are spot-on, of course.
what did you say your favorite hosta was?
WE TALKED HOSTAS MONTHS AGO, in the dead of winter, when they were just twinkles in a gardener’s eye, or images pulled from color catalogs and memory. Now they’re not just up and all filled out, but blooming, too, which got me wondering again: If it were only one hosta per customer, what would yours be? I think I’m sticking with ‘June’ (above), like I said last time, and if I could have a second it would still be ‘Sagae,’ and then I need one small- or medium-sized gold one, and…sorry, I said just one, didn’t I? But seriously: Can you pick just one? Looking around, even in such a slug-filled year, I realize more than ever how I rely on the genus Hosta.












