The Garden in June

The garden on June 30, 2024.

On this, the last day of June 2024, our garden is doing beautifully. It's always amazing to me that what began as tiny seeds can become food-bearing plants in just a little over one month's time. 

The garden on June 15, 2024, for comparison.

At the very beginning of June, we harvested all our (meager) crop of pak choi. One week ago, I picked the entirety of our arugula. It had begun to bolt because of the stupidly hot weather. My plan was always to harvest it all at one time anyway. I like putting greens like that with other, later plants. The pak choi, for example, was in the same bed as the zucchini and yellow squash. The arugula surrounded the One-Too-Many pumpkin plant.

Garden bed before and after arugula harvest

Basket o' arugula

We've also started harvesting sugar snap peas. It's just been a couple handfuls so far, but they are just starting. Maybe it's because we used to live and garden on Hoth, but I never expect pea plants to grow very tall. You would think that after nearly ten years of gardening here, I would adjust my expectations. But, no, I still only set up a short fence for the peas to climb upon.

The pea fence. So dainty.

It quickly became clear that I needed to add some height. So, we got a few 6' tall poles and I added them to either side of the existing fence. It appears that even the new height will not be enough, but the peas are just going to have to accept that. 

The new, taller, still rather dainty pea fence.

Eh, they seem happy enough.

When we got the poles for the peas, we got an extra one to add to the bean trellis in the three sisters garden bed. Unlike some beans (that shall remain unnamed), rattlesnake beans are great at finding their own way onto a trellis. They've had no problem climbing like champions as the popcorn reaches for the sky and the Long Pie pumpkin fills in around them. There are several teeny tiny pumpkins on the vines, so I have cautiously-high hopes that we'll have some to put up for the winter.

Three sister thriving. Pardon the barely-contained asparagus in the back.

Something new for us this year is a tomatillo plant. I don't think I've ever knowingly eaten a tomatillo, but I hear they are delicious, particularly in salsa verde. My husband picked up a plant when we were out getting the tomatoes and peppers and I said, why not? I had no idea that it would become the largest, lushest, fullest plant in the garden. It is beautiful, though I feel it needs to be restrained in some way. Some research is in order.

Beautiful tomatillo plant with jealous deer in the distance.

It's got lovely flowers too.

Speaking of lovely flowers (we were if you read that last caption), our trumpet vine is going crazy. I was assured when I first got it from a warm acquaintance many years ago that it would be nearly impossible to kill, in a good way. They were not lying and it is gorgeous this year. The hummingbirds like it too.

I'll have to try to get a picture of a hummingbird on the trumpet vine but those little suckers are fast. (the birds, not the vines)

And now for the wildlife update. The twin fawns are still hanging around in our backyard with their mother. There are a couple of yearlings who bound through occasionally as well. Yesterday, I saw a pair of young bucks in velvet too, so that was fun. 

Mama and babies.

I've tried to make friends with the dumb fawn. (In a pair, there is always a dumb fawn and a nervous fawn. The dumb one would probably walk right up to a person if the nervous one didn't start running.) I got close once while offering some fresh snap peas I had just picked, but I've decided it's probably not a good idea. It's better that wild animals don't get too comfortable around people, at least not making-contact comfortable. So, we will continue to be casually friendly at a distance, like good neighbors. We smile and say hi in passing but have never been formally introduced.

Hello sharer of our backyard.

In rabbit news, she may or may not be fixing to have babies under our clothesline again. Stay tuned.

 

Too Little Spring for Little Pak Choi

 

Several years ago, we discovered toy choy, a small variety of pak choi that grows quickly and can be harvested in 30 days. This was very important because our garden has cabbage worms. Yuck! I hate cabbage worms. I hate them so much that I have been known to stomp on the pretty little butterflies that make the worms like a Blue Meanie with a vendetta. We don't use poison on things we're going to eat, hand picking off the gross little creatures was tedious on kale and impossible between the layers of growing cabbage, and even row covers couldn't keep them at bay. 

 

The grand solution was toy choy, a member of the cabbage family that we could harvest before the wormage set in. One year I didn't harvest in time and was thoroughly disgusted as the bright green worms floated to the surface as I rinsed the toy choy, but otherwise we've had really good luck growing lovely crops of the tasty greens. In years past, I've had enough to freeze and pickle on top of cooking it right away. This year, unfortunately, was not one of those years. There were no worms, but not much pak choi either.

This year's toy choy (powdered with diatomaceous earth)

I'm pretty certain it was the lack of real springtime weather here that was the problem. Before the seedlings could put on any nice leaves, most of them bolted. With so much energy going into making flowers, there wasn't much left for producing the parts we actually want to eat. 

So spindly!

So, I gave in this evening and just harvested the whole lot of them. 

Yes sir, yes sir, one basket full.

I did my usual multiple rinsings, sorted and trimmed them, then spun them out in the salad spinner (one of my favorite kitchen tools ever). 

Salad spinner!

I ended up with just one gallon bread bag full of little pak choi leaves. 

Sad trombone sounds

Oh well. We'll enjoy them over the next couple of days - probably in a stir fry or cooked up with some beans - and we'll try again next year. Or maybe in the fall if it actually cools down gently enough before going right into winter.

They're small but still pretty.

And now, in backyard wildlife news, one of the new neighborhood fawns likes to rest just outside our garden gate next to the transplanted rhubarb.

Awwwwwww!