The greenhouse is drowned. Every bean and courgette big enough to get hold of is picked. The fruit cage is firmly closed. The biggest weeds have been removed, for fear of seed dispersal.
Time for the most important holiday preparation of all. When leaving the garden to fend for itself for a short period, use this simple action to ensure all is well on your return:
Cross fingers and hope for the best.
Then deal with the fallout when you get back.
See you in September!
Beans! Where do they all come from?
Yesterday I picked every single bean that was remotely edible. Today I take a cursory look and find enormous monsters I swear weren’t there yesterday.
Can you imagine how many beans I’d have if I coddled and cosseted my plants instead of leaving them to fend for themselves? I fear that might be too much of a good thing. Yet another reason to stick with imperfect gardening.
Summer is definitely beginning to shade into autumn here. Just a little, but we’re having the weather and the harvest to prove it.
The peas are finally finished, much to the boy’s disgust. The beans continue apace, much to the husband’s chagrin. (Though he hides it better!) The courgettes have been amazingly even-handed this year and we haven’t had a glut which made even me sick of one of my favourite vegetables. Possibly this was a result of growing them in planters and not in the ground, or it may have been something to do with the fact that I had only four plants instead of eight or twelve!
I love growing purple beans. It means I’m less likely to miss them and allow them to grow into long, lumpy, stringy things fit only for the compost heap.
The greenhouse is a jungle. We’ve had our first few tomatoes but they were eaten before a camera came near them.
It’s not beautifully designed, and never looks its best in autumn, but it’s productive. I just wish I hadn’t sown so many beetroot when nobody enjoys eating them!
Picking beans this afternoon, I looked up and saw it for the first time this year. The light had changed to the light of late summer. The soft, slanting glow held just a hint of the mellow promise of autumn – even now, so early in August.
Can you see it there, just catching the courgettes?