Summer Garden Goodness

Just for fun, I thought I'd share some pictures from this years garden.

 


Hollyhocks growing along the deck.

Our wedding arbor over the garden gate adds cheer and a snug place for flowers to grow.

Rhubarb needing plenty of elbow room. One of my favorite things to grow. Diced rhubarb, cooked down with sugar. It makes a fabulous pie and cobbler filling or topper for pankaces!

 

First tomatos of the season :) We've already made salsa from a huge batch of tomatos that were given to us. I like mine with one jalapeno per batch. My mama likes three. I made sure to remember which container was hers :D

Sunflowers right after the rain.
















Yarrow and mint
drying in the kitchen

My Garden ~ Growing Potatoes

The hardest part about this blog post was not preparing my scraggly spuds for planting, it was looking up how to spell the word "potato". Growing Potatoes...hmm to "e" or not to "e" that is the question. Once I figured out how to spell that bugger of a word, I was ready to proceed with sharing my experience on growing potatoes.

I wish I could say that I have an abundant crop of potatoes enough to feed an army, but that's just not the case. I'm not quite sure where I have gone wrong, but they just don't seem very impressive...I mean, its quite clear from the photo that they are all large, of similar size and color, ok, just kidding.

So what spurred me onto the idea of growing potatoes? Well I read that potatoes are one of the worst vegetables to buy through conventional growers--meaning, they're quite covered in pesticides from the soil. Ick! And since I don't live near a farmer's market (sigh) I decided to dedicate some space in my garden to these multi-eyed babies.


This year, our garden contains red potatoes, russet and Yukon gold, one variety which is residing in a half-barrel so all we have to do is dump over the barrel once they're ready and harvest with ease. Its still too soon, but I'll be back to update this post on the success of that method. Seed potatoes come pre-sliced and ready to plant, but you can also buy organic potatoes, slice them in chunks and let the cuts dry out for a few days before planting. I've tried both methods and have had up and down results no matter what I try. So while I am still far from being crowned the spud expert, I think potato growing is fun and relatively simple. Now I just have to master the art of reaping in abundant crops of the little guys and I know that if I keep trying, in time I will!

The other day, I skimmed from several different locations to come up with our dinner and I think a mixture of different varieties makes for a nice presentation. We wrapped the potatoes, a handful of green beans, (both green and yellow!) and some amazingly good carrots--all from our garden =) in tinfoil, topped with garlic salt, pepper, and butter then cooked the little package on the BBQ. It made for a beautiful array of summer veggies, which I am quite proud to say that my children thoroughly enjoyed. (Woohoo! My kids eat vegetables.)

Disclaimer: they only really eat them if they are out of the garden. I guess that goes to show that there truly is a difference in taste! They plowed through my spring peas like they were candy, and fight over carrots that I pluck, rinse and offer them whole. My 1-year-old likes to hold them by the green tops, making for a rather droopy, difficult, yet completely adorable method of eating.

The point is, what my potato crop lacks in quantity, it makes up in taste and texture! The great thing about home grown potatoes, is that the skin is quite tender and very delicious. If you're not in the BBQ'ing mood, just rinse 'em carefully and cook them in a little water with the skin on, then saute them a minute with butter, salt and pepper and garlic or fresh herbs. I promise you, if you give potato growing a shot, you will not regret the quality of your home grown potatoes and will never look at those gigantic store bought spuds the same again.

A Very Country 4th

We celebrated the Forth of July Country Style. Some dear friends of ours have a lovely farm in the country. Literally, their home is the very last house on a rural dirt road which means they have only one neighbor and the 300 degree view from their back porch of the untouched mountains is stunning.

For most of the day, my son ran around in his bathing suit on the lawn chasing kids both older and younger, squirt gun in hand, water balloons flying past his head like little torpedoes. I don't think the kids stopped for a breather all day, except when it was time to eat. And then, I don't think anyone could have resisted that spread.

The enormous BBQ hauled in on the back of a vehicle was large enough to feed everyone with chicken, ribs and lamb drizzled in the most wonderful homemade BBQ sauces. Pots large enough to hold a couple of youngins held more corn than I have ever seen in one place in my life and with plenty of entrants in the cobbler and pie competition, there were desserts-a-plenty. My dad was eager to join in on the judging and as he walked around the table, sampling the cobblers with his fork, I don't think he could have been happier. The Lemon pie won, but I was too busy nibbling on peach cobbler that had been freshly baked in a dutch oven over a hot fire then topped with hand churned vanilla ice cream, I forgot to nab myself a slice of the winning entry before it vanished.

As everyone enjoyed the meal, a handful of toddler girls waddled about with chubby legs and ribbons in their hair. With watermelon juice still dripping from her chin, my daughter wandered from picnic blanket to picnic blanket, seeing what bites of food the kind folks would offer a doe-eyed, dimple-cheeked one-year-old. Needless to say, I don't think she had any room left in her little tummy by the end of the day.

As the meal came to a close, folks shared patriotic readings, poems and songs and when that was wrapped up, a gaggle of barefooted, sun-tanned kids hopped onto the flat bed truck for a trip down to the creek. I have no idea what they did down there, but when my three-year-old returned, he was wet, a little muddy and very happy. At that moment I figured he'd probably sleep for a week.

Earlier on in the day, names went up on a board in preparation for the shotgun competition. My honey did quite well in the shootout, making it all the way to the semi finals before getting knocked out of the competition. He has the bruise on his shoulder to prove it. His brother took the championship, shooting through four rounds of competition at twenty-five clay pigeons each round. I bet his bruise is bigger :-) Later on, some of the shooters took part in a twenty-one gun salute. My husband and dad were among the few who lined up for the series of shots in front of the garden...it was VERY loud...things you can only pull off in the country ;-)

As the sun sank on the 4th of July, the s'mores sticks came out and by the time the fire was crackling, a group of kids were huddled around the pit with eager hands. With my friend doing graham cracker duty and me on Hershey bar duty, we managed to sandwich those golden (sometimes rather charred) marshmallows up before any kids realized we actually only had 4 skewers. Even so, those too impatient to wait for a skewers, found a stick long enough to satisfy their s'mores cravings (several adults included) Meanwhile, the guitars came out and as we sang songs around the campfires. The littlest ones drifted off to sleep while the older ones were told they could have no more s'mores but if they were still hungry we had plenty of graham crackers and corn on the cob.

I realized just how late it was when my dad got a little droopy eyed, guitar still in hand. We packed up the picnic blankets and loaded up the kids. My dad managed to stay awake in the car, but my children were asleep in the car seats, with sticky stuff still on their faces, before we were out the driveway.