My gardening this year is both early and late.
My friend Barb gave me six onion starts in March I think. Really early for Acton, where our frost date is April 15. They do not have a frost date in Camarillo, where Barb lives.
I put them in the ground and the rabbits ate all the ones that weren’t behind the fence, and then some of them didn’t survive in spite of the protection.
Here’s the one yummy onion that I grew. My first onion!
And how tough am I, huh? Flaunting said vegetable almost in the face of the wild onion-eating bunny! (See her, she’s so jealous right now.)
I braised the onion with some cabbage and carrots from my farm bundle. So flipping tasty.
And guess what? Leftovers.
People who don’t like leftovers are beyond me. Some things are actually better on the second day. Plus they are right there waiting for you when you want them. What’s better than that? Not much, I tell you.
I also planted sugar snap peas from seeds very early this year. I prepped the garden space really well and the Earthboxes, too.
Then The Harmonistas got some gigs, and we were practicing or performing, and I organized Songmakers camp outs in April and May, and it was either too hot or too cold, or that one day it rained…
So here’s the late part. I just put my three Persian cucumber and two Paul Robeson tomatoes in today, June 4th. Looked for Juliette grape tomatoes several times to no avail, which also put me behind. Those can take the heat in my back yard.
It feels weird not to have a better garden at this point, but whatever we get from this will be good.
Oh, I also found a garden center in Santa Clarita on Sunday that I will never go back to, where the staff made me feel like if I asked for something they didn’t have I was stupid for wanting it. They probably thought I didn’t know that it is very late to plant and that seeing as it was 100 degrees out it was not advisable to breathe deeply let alone tuck plants into the soil.
All irking enough, but then the guy told me that the fencing in this photograph is not chicken wire. He said chicken wire is not hexagonal, it’s square. I said, nicely, “I think you’re thinking of rabbit wire.” “No, you’re mistaken,” he insisted, and described them backwards with quite a bit of ego in his voice. (Go ahead, do a Google Images search if you must, I’ll wait.)
I did not go all “I AM A HOOSIER AND I GREW UP IN FARM COUNTRY AND I FREAKING KNOW CHICKEN WIRE WHEN I SEE IT, AND FURTHERMORE I KNOW THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN HAY AND STRAW AND I USED TO BE ABLE TO WHISTLE USING A BLADE OF GRASS” on his scrawny hide.
But I was this. close.