Odds & Ends

One of the oddest insects - and one of the most fascinating to me - is the praying mantis.  I spied one on a rose bush the other day.  As far as I know, they're the only insect that can swivel its head. Watching them watch me is always a source of amusement.  (Yes, I am easily amused, why do you ask?)

Butterflies of all sorts are plentiful these late summer days.  The sulphurs seem to be particularly fond of the Mexican sunflowers in the vegetable garden.  These large ones are called cloudless sulphurs, Phoebis sennae.

Most all of the wildflowers have come to an end and dried up, but the Goldenrod is in full bloom.  Bees and butterlies have hit paydirt big time.

As for the vegetables, I'm ready to call an end to my okra even though it's still putting out the odd pod.  The plants in full sun are way over my head and have lost all their lower leaves, so those left are spindly whips with large pods at the tops, making them bend way over in the wind and rain - and stay that way.  The plants that are in shade much of the day are about as high as my shoulders, and they're not producing much - they never did.

I've been cutting dried pods that look like they're ready to split open and collecting the seeds.  I'm saving the pods for the Arrow Rock merchants to use in their Christmas decorations.  Each year, they get together in the late fall and make wreaths and sprays out of evergreen clippings and dried grasses and pods to decorate the downtown and major historic buildings.  I left some of the tall stalks to dry on their own to see if they'll be anything that can be used.  Otherwise, I've cut down the rest.

Tomatoes and peppers are still coming on strong, and I've still got basil coming out of my ears.  The other day I built a fire in the patio fire pit and roasted some of the red minibells until they had black blisters.  They were delicious.   

Black Prince and Golden Jubilee tomatoes with coarse ground pink Himalayan salt

I'm harvesting the tender young fall lettuce, and waiting to see if the cucumbers I planted will do anything before frost.  It's going to have to be a late frost to get any fruit, although, since they're planted in a tomato cage, perhaps I can cover them if we get an early frost.

The lima beans are setting pods, but the seeds haven't yet developed inside.  They're flowering profusely, and the bumble bees are busy collecting their pollen and nectar.

The hyacinth bean vines are flowering and fruiting.  Those beans are pretty - and toxic if eaten.

The weather has cooled off enough that I decided to tackle a job that will take many hours of work.  Next to the garden, within the wildflower garden, there's a patch about 10'x15' of something that looks like a member of the oregano family.  I had originally thought maybe a mint, but it doesn't have that square stem, and it definitely looks like oregano.  It doesn't have any distinct aroma or flavor, though, so it's not useful for anything.  And it spreads both underground and on the surface, so it has the potential to become a real pest.  I've put an edging barrier between it and the vegetable plots, and luckily, that's working out well.

The patch is neither useful nor particularly attractive, and has the possibility of taking over the wildflower garden, so I've decided to try to make a rose garden out of that space.  It's going to be a challenge to get rid of the stuff, but I'm going to give it a shot.  I hope I don't regret it.  Today I decided to begin.  I sharpened my shovel with a large metal file (something I should have been doing all along - amazing how much better a sharp shovel works than a dull one), and dug and turned under an area about 4 feet square and 8 inches deep.  What I don't know is if every piece of root I chopped up in the process is going to be the start of a new plant!  I piled a load of old garden cuttings on top, but I'm wondering if I should have just put down a cloth weed barrier directly.   If it looks like it's going to come right back, I'll have to rethink my approach.  My plan is to get the whole patch dug and turned and then put a thick layer of compost on top over which I intend to stretch cloth weed barrier and then wood mulch on top of that.  Oh, and somewhere in there, plant some rose bushes.    

Enjoy your late September days.  In this area, they're some of the best.

UPDATE:

I've been rethinking that weed barrier cloth.  I've stayed away from it because of complaints I've heard, and now I've just read something on the Vintage Hill Farms website that's got me leery again.  It can become a problem if roots of your desirable plants grow into it, and it also acts as a retardant to water and air penetration of the soil.  I've also seen cases where weeds actually grow right beneath it even though they lack sunlight.  I just don't know.  I just don't know.