end of summer

As the equinox draws nearer this week, the last of the summer flowers are floundering in their soaked beds.

This has certainly been the season for slugs, fungus of all types, powdery mildew and the like. The autumn mums, however, have somehow avoided much of the fuss and are well on their way to happy this week...lending some freshness to an otherwise tired idea. Another bright spot amid the muck--the hydrangea--have, since August this year, been turning subtle shades of green and maroon that I find rather comforting.


Rear bed, hydrangea in upper left.


Creeping Jenny constitute the only bright spots in the rear beds.

And the marigolds and sweet alyssum are still shining long after the midsummer lettuce patch was cleared away to make room for a fall sowing.
The last of the junior phlox fight powdery mildew beside spent lavender and just blooming pink mums.
In the edible category, cucumbers continue to pour in, despite some foliar powdery mildew.

And late blight finally arrived in the vegetable patch this month, starting on the cherry hybrids and moving to all three tomato plants very quickly. Since the season is drawing to a close, I decided to try to save some of the fruit, which seems to be tougher at resisting the spots than the leaves. As luck would have it, I'd already harvested a few dozen pints of cherry hybrids, so I wasn't too sad to pull and dispose of the entire plant. I cut out all of the cankers and infected leaves and stems on the brandywine and striped german, but left them on their stakes. This worked, for the most part, and we've been continuing to enjoy heirloom tomato basil salads and bruschetta for the last few weeks. Here you can see that the central stalk is all that is left of these two plants. These are nearly 9 ft tall and house at least a dozen more tomatoes, waiting for the plate, if they can hang in there. Last year I was swimming in green tomatoes in early October. Ah, well.


Nasturtium taking off as the weather cools off.
Beets ready to eat.

cucmbers, cucumbers, tomatoes and storms

On the cutting board today:

We've been eating cucumbers, cucumbers and more cucumbers this month. Tzatziki, cucumber and mint salad, cucumber sticks, cucumber rounds, cold cucumber soup, cucumber everything. And the hudson valley has had so much rain that I can hardly keep up with the harvest. Tiny little fetal cucumbers morph into giant monster kirby cuke blimps, quite literally, overnight.
Next to the pile of cucumbers on our countertop are two of the dandilion pots I've been making lately along with a handful of rudebeckia from the garden.

Thus far, my three tomato plants have shown no signs of late blight in spite of the havoc it has wreaked everywhere else during this cold, rainy summer (knocking firmly on wood). I've been harvesting the cherry hybrids since late July and I've got a dozen softball size heirlooms hanging in there through some incredibly strong storms. Two did fall a few nights ago and I have put them in a paper bag with a banana in the hopes that they will ripen off the vine.

The beets are doing well in spite of encroachment from the cucumber and jalepeno plants. Barely visible in the front here are the strawberry pips that Vika dug up for me from her garden in Nantucket. They are liking all this rain.

Meanwhile, the phlox and delphinium are barely surviving the slug fest in the front garden. Rain rain, go away for a little bit, ok?



The same storm that pummeled my brandwines also brought down a large Norway maple branch a few nights ago which landed upright, impaled in a rear flower bed. While John and his dad turned this overnight "tree" into a pile of firewood, I snapped a photo and decided we'd have to plant a real one in that very spot this fall.

midsummer flowers

history-July 2008

The middle of summer is truly the time of plenty. This month, the previously sparse front bed began to really come alive. Guara, junior dance phlox, catmint, hot pink dianthus, lemon coral sedum, yellow roses, blue lobelia and he few magic fountain delphinium that I added as an afterthought all began to bloom.





In the rear, the shasta daisies were doing their best against an army of slugs as the first false sunflowers began to open.



My seven tomato plants had very quickly become massive and by the end of the month I could clearly see that I'd planted them way to close to eachother and to other plants. But the first fruits began to form regardless of my mistakes.




Away on Nantucket for some of the month, I snapped a few photos of the rambling roses that grow everywhere there. These below grow on the cottages in Siasconset near one of my favorite hidden public walks. The little cuttings I took from this same kind of rose in May were rooted in pots back home and I dreamed of the day that they would grow to look like these massive forms.