August usually is the month that I look around the garden, sigh, and think that next year I'll do better.
At the risk of sounding obnoxious: This year, I'm looking at the garden and thinking that next year will be even better. Despite a late start due to a soggy spring, baking heat in July and, the last couple of days, torrential downpours, the vegetables this year really flourished. It's weed-free (almost) and chemical-free (completely), and I think it's going to produce enough to give us lots of lovely organic vegetables through much of the winter.
Still hoping a few vines will climb their way up the side of the arbor, but even if they don't, the rudbeckia makes a nice companion.
Part out of necessity, and part out of stubborness, I wanted the garden to be my project and my project alone this summer. So when I look at the little stone path, I don't think so much about the fact that it's a little uneven. I think I did that.
The view the bunnies get, when they hop up from the meadow.
A really magical thing happened last evening when I was walking the dogs. (My Carson, and Ferris from next door, who always comes along). Just as we walked down one side of the garden, the sweetest fawn came skipping out of the meadow and paused at the other side of the garden. I've never seen a fawn that close. It was speckled and perfectly spindly. It looked at us, kind of perplexed, until Ferris barked, and the fawn realized it probably shouldn't hang out with dogs. I like to think we helped it learn an important life lesson.
The cutting bed in the center, with peppers and onions in the foreground. Have you ever found a packet of seeds from the year before and wondered if they were worth planting?
That's what happened with me and the zinnias. (Benary's Giant, from Johnny's Selected Seeds.) I'd say go ahead and plant them.
The cosmos often reseed themselves, but this year they needed to be refreshed.
This tomato is trying to kill me. I have been watching it ripen v-e-r-y s-l-o-w-l-y all summer. It's an heirloom, 'Gold Medal,' and I think it's just about ready.
If that tomato doesn't do me in, the blackberries will. We finally have a pretty decent crop of them, but they're very content being pink.
Much as I'd like to take all of the credit for the garden, I realize an effort like this needs a few willing volunteers. So let's hear it for the love-in-a-mist, which year after year reseeds itself.
And for the cherry tomatoes, which spring forth from the compost every year, and this year have filled an entire 8-by-12 foot raised bed. (I gave them a bed this year. Why buy plants when these are so eager to grow?)
The volunteer dill gets a special mention this year. Even though I planted dill, the volunteers matured exactly when I needed fresh dill for refrigerator pickles. Thanks, dill!
And the garden wouldn't be possible without bees. Or toads. The bee didn't like being photographed, but the toads absolutely refused.
See that chair up yonder, framed by the arbor? All summer long I've been looking at it and thinking about the evening when I would sit in it and admire the garden instead of working in it.
Hasn't happened yet.
I am thoroughly jealous! What a beautiful lawn and garden - your hard work has really paid off!
It would be nice to see some morning glories climb up the arbor in between the rudbekia, what did you plant there? I've always had good luck with old zinnia seeds. Zinnias are so forgiving and wonderful! If you order heirloom tomatoes and ever find the type called "Mortgage Lifter" try them!
Posted by: Tina | August 11, 2011 at 09:41 AM
You deserve to be proud, your garden is beautiful!
My garden has several "rooms" where the design books say I can sit and reflect on the garden but so far i haven't ever done that either - LOL!
Posted by: Kathy | August 11, 2011 at 03:08 PM
Great photos of your gorgeous garden. It must feel really good to not only create this lovely space, but also to provide delicious and healthy food for your family. I'm so impressed.
Posted by: Martha | August 11, 2011 at 03:45 PM
Oh, how lovely a site your garden is! Send some of that rain this way. We need it bad. Next year, I hope I have a little veggie garden to eat from.
Brenda
Posted by: Brenda Kula | August 11, 2011 at 05:20 PM
I'm so envious of your garden. Great job.
Pesky groundhogs snap off the heads of the zinnias right before they have a chance to open in our back yard.
Posted by: Mary | August 12, 2011 at 10:34 PM
Beautiful photos! I envy you. We're in a new place and use 5 gal. buckets for plants. Nothing grows in clay and gravel except rocks! Keep up the great work. Yours is the only fav blog on mine. And you've kicked my passion for vintage cotton prints into overdrive! Hubby frowning :( !!!
Posted by: Kat | August 13, 2011 at 08:24 AM
Rudbeckia...that would be me? Your garden is such an inspiration! Looks like those zinnia seeds were just napping because they have bloomed beautifully.
Posted by: black eyed susans kitchen | August 14, 2011 at 11:31 AM
Your garden is looking spectacular Barbara! And I'm right with you in thanking all of the volunteers that show up each year, and in recommending using those old seeds. I've got a ton in the fridge, some 10 years old, and they work just fine. Yes, this was a lovely tour of your garden, although I do feel like you were bragging a bit about not having any weeds.......
Posted by: Carol @ Old Glory Cottage | August 14, 2011 at 03:03 PM