Almost Halloween Garden

Sweet potatoes must be picked this weekend. Frost is coming. The leaves have already been nipped by cool weather. (Click on pictures to enlarge.)

I rescued our oranges this morning, hardy trifoliate. So tart, they flavor water nicely, might make marmalade.

Lettuces, spinach and beets are coming along.

This cosmos entertains an alianthus webworm moth.

The last 2 years I planted English peas in August and they failed to mature before winter. This year I got smarter and planted sugar snap peas, figuring we could eat them at any stage. That's the answer, from now on, sugar snap peas in fall. Also broccoli, beats and our late, late green beans. Wheat is waiting to sprout in between.

Here's another garden bed where the wheat has risen.

Hyacinth beans accompany orange trees (in the greenhouse).

"Didn't I smell tomato sauce yesterday?" asks Virginia.

Yes, for our pizza dinner last night with a couple of couples. Heritage tomatoes are almost perfect this time of year (also in the greenhouse).

Threshing

The biggest challenge of growing your own wheat is harvesting it.  So, knowing 30 young people would be camping in our field a few days before setting out on a "teen adventure," we invited them to help out.  To get ready, Karen and I cut off the tops of our wheat plants and stored them in giant plastic bags.

Trimmed wheat; already being converted to a sweet corn garden.

When the young people arrived, we laid out plastic and set them "a flat-footin.'"

Stomping on the right; separating the wheat on the left.

The separated wheat went into a bin, where it was washed several times.  The chaff and straw floated to the top, while the grains of wheat (wheat berries) sank to the bottom.  Then we spread the grains out to dry.

Sun drying wheat berries.

Ditto.

Soon we'll be able to grind it in the NutriMill and turn the flour into bread (or pizza dough).

"Wouldn't that have taken days by yourselves?" says Virginia.

Exactly.  With all this help and conversation, it was fun for all of us.

Fava Me, Will Ya?

For some reason, I think we may be having cabbage and fava beans for dinner.

Here's Karen, the decapitator, and...

the anatomy of the interior, a/k/a the cabbage tree of life.

Here's the decorative supplement...

shelled, but still in its "pajamas."

"Aren't you going to provide a recipe?" says Virginia.

Maybe some other day.  To be honest, we're virgins so far as fava beans go.

Of course our garden doesn't make promises, but it looks promising.

The chickens think the wheat is ready to harvest.  See the brown chick on the left?  He's hard to see even if you click on the photo.

These are Cylindra beets -- long and cylindrical.

I think I'll pick this guy tomorrow.

As you can tell, I took one of these off the shelf.

"Tell me another one," says Virginia.

Okay, okay.  I ate the other two, too.

I hope the squirrels don't get this acorn squash before it's ready this fall.

 Any time we want, we have potatoes, onions...

and fried green tomatoes.

I'm about ready to pull these blooming peas out and replace them with corn and sweet potatoes.

Actually it's a purple larkspur among Wando peas. Now I've got to figure out how to pull up the peas and leave the larkspurs.

Crabbiness and Tears

Sore teeth prompt crabbiness.  Sorry folks.  Which reminds me.  Overnight, it seems, we have this:

Maybe it's more recognizable this way:

Or this:

A few months from now, I'll be gathering their tiny apples for some of the best jelly in the world.  The process is tedious, as most worthwhile endeavors tend to be.

I found a real treat this morning, our winter wheat crying happiness.  (You may need to click on the photo to see what I mean.)

"A fence isn't much good if you let the gate blow open, is it?" says Virginia.

See the goat hoofprint and the nibbled cauliflower?  Fortunately, Karen caught the intruders before they ate more than a few strawberry and cauliflower plants.

Here's the hopeful pomegranate grove, transplanted yesterday from pots that 3 years ago welcomed some seeds of a fruit donated by an Eastern Shore friend.  Thank you, Marian.

And here is today's mystery.  Does anyone know what this is?  We don't remember where it's from, but we like it.

Here's a picture of the entire plant.

Spring Garden Shots

In case yesterday's written description of our spring things left something to be desired, consider a few pictures that might be worth a hundred words.

First, the four-fifths finished fence of Elk Cliff Farm.  The plastic-covered pile contains the poplar rails we hope will disguise the 4x4 goat wire.

The prime purpose of the fence is to separate the garden beds from these guys.  By the way, we're expecting a few dozen more in a month or so.

Before we go behind the new fence, here's a shot of what we call the "field garden," which is found in our field across the James River Road.  I mowed it today and covered the southwest corner with black groundcloths and a green tarp to kill the Johnsongrass.  I plan to rotate the cover across the garden, where I want to plant sweet corn, sorghum, and grain for the animals.

 

Now, through the new fence into the middle of the greenhouse, 6 varieties of lettuce in this bed are close to table-ready.

"Where is this bed?" asks Virginia, as if she doesn't know.  She's always thinking of others.  As I said, in the middle of the greenhouse.  My tomato flats with no sprouts yet sit on the lowest shelf, while broccoli, cauliflower and cabbage seedlings stand above at attention, anxiously awaiting their march to the outdoor garden.  The lettuces grow underneath these shelves.

  

Here's one of our winter wheat gardens, next year's flour.

More rows, garlic this time.

"Won't you please pick me this year?"  A few of last year's onions inquire.

 

Lettuce grows in a cold frame.

Shall we say goodbye to this year's maple syrup season?  For how we prepared our 3 gallons of syrup, please visit Karen's blog, "Maple Syrup Take Two," at http://holesinmyjeans-kpannabecker.blogspot.com/2011/02/maple-syrup-take-two.html.