Finally, it froze!

Loquat in bloom December 2.

In keeping with the weird weather trend, we got our first freeze on January 9 — pretty late in the season. It was a long, mild fall. In early December our loquat tree bloomed. We’ve lived here for 12 years and only twice have we gotten fruit from that tree.  Don't like loquats, so both times I put a notice on our neighborhood list and somebody came and picked them.  Anyway, according to Aggie horticulture, if temperatures stay above 27 degrees we will probably get fruit in late winter/early spring.  The tree itself is a nice tropical looking landscape plant that survives down to 10 degrees.

Loquat blossoms attracted butterflies and bees.

You! Show me your paws!

And you . . . is that tomato juice on your nose?

In order to catch our little animal friends destroying the tomatoes it would be necessary to monitor the garden 24/7.  Aren’t there spy agencies doing that sort of thing already?  Maybe we could hire them to spy on our raccoons, possums, squirrels, etc. instead of on us.  Imagine, spending our tax dollars on something beneficial!

Anyway they got my first three tomatoes of the season, but I rescued two others.  One was still mostly green but undamaged.  The other had a small chunk taken out of it.  I washed it, trimmed out the bad place, sliced it, and ate it with breakfast.   So far, nobody is bothering the cherry tomatoes on the tall plants, only the big juicy ones on the short plants.

Requiem for a Baby Squash

First there were five yellow squash plants, then two, then the last one gave up the ghost, leaving just one tiny heir, the baby squash in the photo.  Probably it was our usual spring nemesis, the squash vine borer (see this wonderful rant by the Redneck Hippie.)

Could our extemely strange super rainy spring weather be affecting the vegetable garden?  Don’t know;  I haven’t been able to find any articles addressing this issue. Our peppers are so-so, tomatoes and cantaloupes doing fine, squash a total loss.

Meanwhile, let’s have a moment of silence for the last surviving member of the Crookneck family, headed for a casserole this evening.

Apologies to Real Lizards

Entertaining, bug-eating friend.

As long-time science fiction fans, we call noxious prickly weeds ‘triffids’ and occasionally refer to people we don’t like as ‘pod people.’  A while back I read the results of a survey purporting to show that a substantial number of people believe our nation’s political and economic affairs are currently being run by lizard people. Instead of laughing, which I would have done 20 years ago, I thought, “Hmm, that’s a compelling image.” Okay, it’s not literally true, but metaphorically it seems right on target. Something rings false about a lot of what these people do and say.  It just feels like they might be members of another species–possibly reptilian.

The other day I spotted this lizard on our fence, and remembered that real lizards are our friends.  In some places they are invited indoors because they are efficient little pest control operators. They’re also fun to watch.  I now realize I owe the lizard community an apology for using their name to describe people whose bad behavior has cost them the goodwill of the citizens.

Spring!

Salvia greggii: overwintered nicely, now blooming like crazy.   This is a great landscape plant.  Hummingbirds and butterflies like it too.

 

Purple trailing lantana: four from last year coming back; three new ones to fill in.  They will spread over this area and be covered with purple blossoms.

Calylophus: looked ratty after winter.  Now getting full and starting to bloom.  Will be covered with yellow blossoms soon.  It was new last year; should spread some more this year.

 

Avocado tree: impulse purchase, maybe foolish.  This is a Lila, a self-pollinating variety that is supposedly okay down to 15 degrees.  More cold tolerant but less productive than the ones grown commercially down in the Valley.

Bolting lettuce: I was caught off guard by this (of course).  We had a few warm days but I still thought it would last another month.  Red sails and green oak leaf varieties still taste okay; romaine is bitter.

Butterfly: what kind? Looked it up online; it might be a red admiral.

Birds, Squirrels, etc.

Woodpecker visiting birdie crack house, er, feeder.

Uninvited guest

My daughter is a bird nut and an evangelist for any form of nature activity, so a while back she gave me a pair of binoculars and a field guide.  I thought, “Great, now I will have fun watching birds from my window.”  “Not so fast,” said the birds. “You are taking a very superficial attitude to our presence in your yard.  In fact, just calling it your yard is an affront to us.  We were here first.”

Birds were all over our property but I couldn’t see them very well. They flew from tree to tree, chirped and cawed, built nests, hopped around on the ground looking for bugs, and drove the cat crazy, but no way would they come close enough to my observation post to let me ID them, or even see what they were doing in any kind of satisfying detail.

Peaceful lunching.

When I complained to my daughter about the lack of birdly cooperation she said, “Put up a feeder near the window.”  Well duh.

First I put up the kind of feeder that holds packaged suet and peanut butter food.  The birds mobbed the feeder. I understood then why my daughter calls this food “birdie crack.”  Later I got another feeder that holds birdseed.  That one's been popular too.  Note to self: This activity could get expensive; time to stop relying entirely on the pricey storebought stuff.  Find out what kind of flowers and berries our birds like, then plant more of those.

First Broccoli: Unbeautiful but Tasty

Just harvested the first broccoli, and apparently waited too long. I figured the darn things were ready to pick when they looked like the ones in the grocery store.  But nooooo, that’s not the way it works.

On the counter, complete with flowers

Instead of getting larger, greener and more dense, the head started sprouting little yellow flowers, while each floret appeared sparse and separated from its neighbors.

 “When it comes to harvesting broccoli, do not procrastinate,” urges Texas Gardener. “If you wait too long, the small flowers will start to open and you will have a beautiful, yellow bouquet instead of a head of broccoli.”

Even though this one was past its prime, I sauteed the florets with some mushrooms and was very pleased with the flavor.  I removed the flowers but a few of them got into the mix anyway.  No problem. It’s nice that mother Nature cuts us beginners some slack.

It does raise the question, though, of how much energy and attention I’m willing to devote to growing veggies.  It’s really more work than the easygoing type of gardening I enjoy, tending to an array of low-water-use native and adapted perennials, shrubs and trees.  A xeriscaped yard has lots of color and texture and is  good for the environment, too.  But its best quality is a highly favorable digging-to-sitting-and-drinking-wine ratio.

Luckily the world is full of experienced people who like to share their knowledge, so I’ll be looking for more of them and checking in with them more often. One inspiring blog I found the other day is called Masters of Horticulture. It’s written by several Texas gardeners who grow both edibles and ornamentals—all organically.