And being a chump, I’ve been real busy lately.  Sorry about that.

Also, our remodeled bathroom is almost done.  We didn’t get the window ordered in time, and so we’re in a holding pattern until that shows up later, but the rest is just awaiting inspection.  Anyway, my yard is a total mess, and I haven’t posted in a while.

I’m a poor excuse for a garden geek.  So sue me.

Without further ado…

Welcome to my Tuscan resort.  Honestly, I don’t know.  I’ve never been there.  Ya gotta think it looks like this, though, no?

We have flowers.  Mais oui.  (Which is what they speak in Tuscany.  French.)

Our second flush of raspberries is in full… uh… flush.  These would be yer Tulameen, if I’m not mistaken, which I often am.

And what Tuscan resort would be complete without a fig tree?  This thing has been VERY happy in the ground.  She did not like her pot one bit.

The Asian pear espalier is (literally) dripping with fruit.  This is, again probably mistakenly, a chojuro and a nijiseiki.  Voila!

These blueberries did not get the memo that their season is over.

Every year I plant something because I find a couple of seeds lying around, and I think it’s really too late, but what the heck… and almost every time, it is not at all too late.  These are papaya pear squashes.

This is your ready-made S-curve photo of a trombocino (which apparently means “penis” in Tuscan French) squash.

This is the one and only purple eggplant that I’ve seen from, maybe, five plants?  We’ve eaten half a dozen or more of the white “Casper” eggplants.  Normally, I’d expect to be chucking these at passing cars by now.

Brussels sprouts.  Dammit, I am going to eat some brussels sprouts from my garden– aphids be damned.  I always grow them, and I always end up eating two sprouts and then composting the plants because they’re all gross.  NOT THIS TIME!  NOT THIS ELECTION YEAR!  WE NEED CHANGE WE CAN EAT!

Walla walla!  Walla walla!  Baby onions for next year.

Baby beets for this winter.

Baby leeks for… whenever they decide to be ready.  Leeks are awesome.  If you don’t grow leeks, you are a terrorist.

Mags and Ethel.

Dots and Chicken-Without-Name

So, Chicken-Without-Name (formerly known as Shirley) has stopped laying.  Just like that.  She hasn’t produced an egg for a week.  The other girls crank out one a day.  So, she’s either got an egg wedged in her sideways (that’s not good) or she’s got some other issue (probably psychological, given her personality).

The chances of me taking her to the chicken vet are approximately zero in one billion.  I’ve got a cat that I have to give insulin shots twice a day.  He’s had cryptococcal granuloma, tooth abcesses, and now diabetes.  He is the $10,000 cat by now, at least.

I suggest daily to Shirley that I’m pretty much tapped out on the vet thing.  She really outta reach deep down within herself, bear down, and start cranking out some ova.  Tick tock.

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Sorry, been busy with work and the remodel, but… got a nice looking basket of goodies from the yard this morning (eggs, too!):

Whatcha got there is Asian pears, my last Oregon curl-free peach, Van Buren grapes, casper eggplants, yellow zukes, (borghese, striped roman, and sungold) tomatoes, cali wonder pepper, and trombocino squash.

Still, doesn’t mean I’m going to quit whining.

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Another in my series of “I don’t have anything to say about my garden” posts.

The weather here in Portland has… mostly… sucked.  First we did the never-ending-winter spring, and now we’re doing the hah-hah-the-fall-rains-have-started summer.  Of my one beelion tomatoes, approximately none are ripe.

So, fine, we make the love!

Or… if you can’t get anyone to go for that… we make fried green tomatoes.

You take the green tomatoes from the vines that have collapsed in the wind because of your hokey sisal twine that you used to tie them up (forgetting that a vine full of tomatoes is real heavy).  In this case, we’re using Brandywines.

You dip them into the beaten eggs from your mentally challenged yard fowl.  Then, you dip them in some corn meal, salt, and pepper.

I suppose this goes without saying, but you fry them.  In a pan.  A hot pan.

And VOILA!  They are very fine with a remoulade comme ca!

If you do not lock the door, a pathetic urchin may come in, and in an attempt to charm some food from you with his humor, tell you that your fried tomatoes are:

“EARILY GOOD!”

We chased this one away.

So sad, really.

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Normally, I like to procrastinate until my basil’s all gone to seed and gotten real bitter, but this year, I read this country lady’s post about how she made pesto, and I thinks to myself “she doesn’t seem so all-fired smart… I should be able to do that!”

So, here’s my city boy variation:

• 4 c. fresh basil
• 1 1/3 c. extra virgin olive oil
• 1 c. grated parmesan
• 1 c. cashews (oh yes, you read that right, CASHEWS!)
• salt and pepper

Directions:

Put stuff in food processor. Turn on. Wait. Turn off.

FAQ:

Why the cashews?
Because we didn’t have pinenuts.

Can I freeze this with the cheese already in there?
God no. I do, but you shouldn’t.

Did you X before/after/during or add Y or count to Z for the processing?
No.

How is it?
Real, real good.

Did you take any pictures?

Before, I had these here leaves.

After, I had this here bucket ‘o sauce.

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Dayam!  It is HOT.  My thermometer read 102 a while ago.  Yeesh.

Anyway, I decided that it is possible that I sounded a bit whiney in my last post.  Possibly.

So, I decided to brave the heat and go look for some encouraging scenes.  Submitted for your/my enjoyment:

I wanted to take a picture of the peaches that we ate, but those people are animals.  By the time I got my camera out, they were gone!

At least this guy seems happy about the sun.

One of a couple of surprises that I found upon closer inspection.  This Casper eggplant is ready to be eaten.  We’ll probably have to have a ceremony of some kind.

The shiso continues to bush out nicely.  Normally it’d have bolted by now.

I have had the worst time with leaf miners wrecking my chard this year.  Finally a couple of them seem to have made it past the stunting phase.  Love chard.  Love it.

The Ancho peppers are cranking along nicely.  Threw some in the scrambled eggs this morning.  Note to self: delicious much?

My potimarron winter squashes are doing great, each has thrown several squash.  Those things are animals.  I got the seeds from The Seed Saver’s Exchange.

When the termaters do come in, we’re sitting pretty.  These brandywine’s are just waiting to explode with deliciousness.  Come on, babies!  Come on!

And then, before my eyes, a ripe(ish) tomato!  I will admit that it wasn’t the best tomato that I’d ever eaten, but I’m going to count it as the official #1.

To top it off, my family got me a straight razor kit (complete with strap and everything).  I’m into slow everything, pretty much.  It wasn’t the easiest shave ever, but you gotta love getting away from disposable/fast/convenient/plastic/as-seen-on-tv stuff.  This thing’s made by a guy in lederhosen in Germany and has a wood handle and a stainless blade.  Sweet.

Relevant to nothing in particular, my brother in Hawaii sent me this recording of a bird called a Hwamei.  Enjoy.

 

 Hwamei Sings Happy Birthday to Me [2:39m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

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