On Saturday I headed to the beach farm, some iceberg and red leaf in van. When I arrived a fence piece was thrown on top of my greens bed. In fact, the whole plot turned, potatoes, peas, greens, and even the saffron. Shame the new plot owner didn't recognize the crocus. It's all too tiring to explain, but I will say the plot was not mine and so plain too bad for me.
Tonight it may freeze, just a few days after our average last freeze date. No worries, then, things are late this year and I've no sprouted greens or peas to contend with.
A good rain and warm days should activate the soil organisms. Let's hope the garlic does better than it has so far. The new plot, it is now being told to me by long timers, is cursed. Nothing grows there they say. Oh. Bless them, they all thought I could cure it of its curse.
Below is a painting I've rekindled. Autumn and popsicle trees are great challenges to my way of painting.
Smothering Potentilla indica, everyhere. A garden swan song.
Always trust Dicentra eximia, anywhere, everywhere. It died two years ago, under some heavy foot traffic, but reseeded itself. Here, at the edge of the poor man's patio, it seeded itself once again. It is one of my favorite plants, all time.
I started my greens this weekend. Two kinds of romaine and a buttercrunch, bulbing fennel, and Italian parsley. This watery scene is the starting tray, under cellophane wrap in the window.
At the beach farm more losses, particularly in the newest plot and particularly Turban and Creole. Disappointing yes, and now the maggots have found the rotten flesh. But I also direct-seeded a ton of mustard, arugula, and mizuna, snap peas and pea greens. Now that I am eating so many salads, I'm looking ever more forward to this bounty.