All the beautiful flowers have gone, but left in their wake are these tiny green promises of deliciousness.
California is in the midst of a nasty drought and we're hearing hints of tough water restrictions this year, which could adversely affect home 'orchardists,' such as myself.
When I prepared to plant originally, I researched ways to give my trees the most solid foundation on which to grow, and I'm hoping that research pays off now.
One idea was to cycle between deep watering and allowing the soil to dry out. This gives the tree the water it needs but encourages it to send its roots as far down as possible looking for moisture. I recently had to remove one of the trees because of disease, and trust me, those roots are anchored!
I was torn about planting a garden this year. I'm still making changes and I'm really not ready.
But I just couldn't face a year without tomatoes, at the very least, so I put in a six pack of Romas.
They will be frozen as soon as they ripen. I can then make sauce at my leisure.
I will be planting a Cherry Tomato as well.
We eat this 'garden candy' right off the vine, they are good for so many impromptu dishes right out of the garden.
I also planted one Jalapeno Pepper and one Cayenne Pepper. These two plants should produce enough to take me through to frost.
Peppers and Tomatoes are the core of my garden every year and, with a little organic fertilizer and attention from the birds, they seem to be hearty and fruitful in abundance.
Here's hoping for another good year.
I need some help. It seems our little friend is going to be hanging around, at least for a while, and she needs a name.
My husband is leaning toward 'Lovey Dovey,' but I'm not sure.
I'd appreciate any suggestions and will let you know when a decision is made.
The California Poppies and the purple Iris look so beautiful together.
These last two pictures are of the Pieris Japonica.
The second one is called 'Fire,' and you can see why.
Every Spring it puts on this bright flaming foliage.
Ode To Tomatoes
- Pablo Neruda
filled with tomatoes,
through the streets.
it enters at lunchtime,
its own light,
Unfortunately, we must
into living flesh,
populates the salads
happily, it is wed
to the clear onion,
and to celebrate the union
child of the olive,
onto its halved hemispheres,
salt, its magnetism;
it is the wedding
of the day,
of the roast
at the door,
the table, at the midpoint
star of earth, recurrent
its remarkable amplitude
no leaves or thorns,
the tomato offers
of fiery color
and cool completeness.