Last fall, after all the trick-or-treaters were gone and the Thanksgiving turkey only a memory, I chunked four pumpkins into the bath tub that masquerades as a planter on my tiny courtyard. I figured they would decay and fertilize the nandinas growing in the tub. Low and behold all four sprouted wings and began to march across the courtyard. I let them have their way, more out of curiosity than the desire to produce pumpkins. (more…)

It’s almost lunch time and I’ve decided it’s time to harvest some ingredients for a homegrown salad. You can see my pot-fresh ingredients in clockwise order: The nasturtiams give the salad a peppery bite, fresh basil (a must for any self respecting salad maker), lettuce, spicey oregano and curly parsley.

The only thing missing is a big red juicy tomato - but I’m working on that - have seven tomato plants tucked around the yard in the few locations exposed to direct sunlight. Today I must settled for the ridiculously expensive “on the vine” varieties from Jiggly Wiggly. They’re worth every cent.

Be assured I’m not eating the hostas spilling over the border beyond the bar. On second thought, they might add a nice touch. I will google them and make sure they’re not poisonous. It would be so embarrassing to have my obit read that I expired from hosta ingestion.

Later………strolled out front to check on the progress of my tomatoes and lo and behold I have three tomatoes on one of the vines! Won’t be long now…

It’s getting harder and harder to take a bath these days.

I tossed my Halloween pumpkins into the old bathtub out back to let them compost and nourish my Nandinas. Low and behold I have a big crop of pumpkins coming along. They are fighting for space with the Nandinas and an assortment of other vines.

Isn’t it funny…if I had TRIED to get them to germinate, it would never have happened. Nature has a delightful way of reproducing itself effortlessly while we humans prod and cajole to get things to grow.

As the sun finally peaked from behind the clouds yesterday, I decided the time had come to move my bloom-covered, four-foot tall heirloom tomato plant from the greenhouse into the garden. I was giddy with my newfound passion for gardening.

I had been babying that tomato plant all winter since it emerged as a “volunteer” from one of the pots my son had tossed into my greenhouse last fall. I nicknamed it “BLT” and talked baby talk while feeding it kitchen compost.

This had been going on daily since I discovered it back in February. BLT was the first thing I saw each morning, and I practically (more…)