Magic Lily

Once again, my garden has surprised me.  Every year I forget about the magic lilies, which, I suppose, is the whole point.  All of a sudden, one day in late August or early September, there are lilies blooming in the front bed and out near the mailbox.  The flowers are not preceded by leaves, which is why they're such a surprise.  If I remember correctly, the leaves will come up after the flowers are gone, which is completely backwards, compared to every other bulb out there.

The lilies were planted by the former owners of our house, in amongst the daffodils.  I've seen them planted with daffodils elsewhere, too, naturalized in a large wooded area in a public park nearby.  This seems like a smart strategy--they bloom at different times, and having them together makes it less likely to dig them up by mistake.  They sometimes end up traveling together--I think I managed to plant some in the front bed when I separated and moved the daffodils from around the mailbox.

They're a nice development, since the garden is looking somewhat exhausted at this time of year.  It's been mercilessly hot and humid all summer, with very little rain.  These lilies are a welcome sign of life and energy right now. 

Hot, Hot, Hot

Things are winding down in the summer vegetable garden.  The tomatoes and beans are pretty much done.  The cukes and zukes have suddenly crashed--one day they were green and happy, and the next morning they're turning brown and shriveling up.  The peppers and eggplants, however, are very happy.  This afternoon I picked a huge bowlful of all kinds of hot and sweet peppers.  In the picture, from the top, are Giant Marconi (sweet Italian pepper), Poblano (hot!), Anaheim (first one, so I don't know what they're like), Jalapeno, and Golden Baby Belle (tiny yellow bell pepper). 

Last weekend we made salsa with some Poblanos and the last of our Roma and Yellow Pear tomatoes.  Today, I'm going Italian.  I'm going to cook the Marconis, bell peppers, eggplant, and the last of the yellow squash with a few cans of diced tomatoes.  It'll make a lovely dinner and I hope we'll have enough to freeze some for later.

Goldfinches

There seems to be a rule that all suburban mailboxes (the ones out at the curb on a post) must be surrounded by some sort of flower bed.  At least that's how things are in my neighborhood.  My mailbox bed philosophy is that if it survives without me watering it, it's good.  This mindset leads me to choose mostly native perennials for out there--since they're supposed to be used to surviving our summers (and winters) without any assistance.  Coneflowers (Echinacea) are one of the most reliable performers in midsummer.  The best thing about them is that, just when the flowers are almost gone and the plants are setting seed, they are almost constantly decorated with goldfinches!

Goldfinches are small, seed-eating birds.  During the summer, the males are bright yellow with black wings and a black cap.  The females and winter males are duller and greenish, without the black cap.  They're beautiful birds, and they come in great flocks (we've had up to 45 at one time) to the feeders in winter.  In the summer, they travel in smaller groups, and they LOVE coneflower seeds.  Most days as I'm sitting in the driveway, waiting for the garage door to open or close, I can watch the goldfinches.  If I'm working outside, I can always hear them coming and going.  Unlike most birds, goldfinches sing while they're flying, which always makes me smile. 

Every year, I relearn the same lesson:  just when I think it's time to cut back the coneflowers because they're done flowering, the goldfinches arrive to remind me that there's more to a garden than just pretty flowers.

Only Mostly Dead

In April 2009, I planted two palm trees in my front yard.  I was assured by the guy at the farmer's market that they were cold hardy.  They seemed to make it through the winter just fine, even under quite a bit of snow.  When spring came, however, they both dropped all their leaves and looked completely pitiful.  Since I'm such a pathetic gardener, I just let them sit there all spring and summer.  I kept meaning to dig them up, or at least cut off the dead leaves, but, well, I never did. 

Last week I was looking at the website for the Southeastern Palm Society.  There I found out that some palms do drop all their leaves after a harsh winter, but that all hope may not be lost.  I need to cut off all the dead leaves, and maybe it'll sprout new ones by the end of the summer.  Really?  That's cool.  Sloth can be a good thing.  This weekend, I finally got around to excavating one palm from under the black-eyed susans, only to find a new leaf!  Yay!  The other one (out in the middle of the yard) has no signs of life yet, but I'll be patient for a little longer.  At least I cut off all the dead leaves, so it doesn't look so neglected.

Figs

This house came with a fig tree.  When we moved in nine years ago, it was more of a fig bush--about four feet tall, planted right up against the southwest corner of the house.  Apparently it's a good spot, fairly well protected from winter nastiness and exposed to a good amount of sun; we completely ignore it, yet the thing is now taller than our two-story house.  We can pick the figs while standing on the second story deck.  We also share the figs with lots of local wildlife.  The figs are just beginning to ripen, but the squirrels and cardinals can't wait.  It looks like every almost ripe fig is half-eaten, or at least has a few pecks.  The squirrels even leave the rinds on the deck railing (along with little piles of squirrel droppings).  Thank you so much.

Once the figs really start to ripen, we'll have enough to share with the critters.  So what do we do with figs?  My husband likes to eat fresh figs, but he's the only one in the house who does.  I've taken a bowl to work to share.  We also dry them--just cut them in half and put them on the dehydrator for a day or two.  Dried figs are pretty good in trail mix.  The owner of our local gelato shop said she'd make a batch of fig gelato if we brought her a kilo, so that's another option.  If I were really ambitious I'd look for fancy recipes, like figs wrapped in prosciutto.  But it's almost time to go back to school--so I'll probably just leave them to the squirrels.

Garden Salad

Today's dinner was accompanied by a fresh garden salad.  Here's the recipe:  go out to the garden and pick a cucumber, some yellow pear and grape tomatoes, and a sprig of basil.  Wash, peel, slice, etc.  Drizzle with olive oil and red wine vinegar.  Add a few grinds of salt and black pepper.  Enjoy!

How hot is it?

It's so hot that the lace cap hydrangea is wilting.  Every day.  Even if I water it every day.  I give up.  I've moved it a couple of years ago, to a shadier spot, but that hasn't helped.

It's so hot that the purple basil is bleached white.  I turned the pot around so the purple plant is on the shadier side.  We'll see what happens.

It's so hot that the only thing to do is to sit inside with a big glass of iced tea.  What's better than homemade iced tea?  Homemade peach iced tea made with the syrup from last summer's canned peaches.  Mmmmmm. 

Hope it rains soon.