Smallest Farm Sunday
Smallest Farm Sunday seems to be more popular with my regular readers than Linux Monday, so I'll oblige. We've had a couple of milestones this week. Monday I had my first significant harvest and ate the salad pictured here.
Tuesday I got home from seeing Joe Biden fairly early, and I had taken the whole day off, so I got Pepperland planted. That's the small patch nearest the house that I have set aside for hot peppers. I started this habanero from saved seed from one of last year's painfully hot treats. These are a key ingredient to my infamous Pepper Spray Fajitas, which I'm making tonight. The peppers are obviously still store bought, but home grown cilantro and garlic greens are in the mix.
From Pepperland we move to the Sea of Holes (my pop culture references are 40 years out of date). Today's big project was corn planting. 18 dozen seeds are in the ground. I had a good system this year; I drilled corn holes (huh huh, huh he said in a 15 years outdated pop culture reference) with a hole-digging drill attachment, then covered the seeds with potting soil. It wasn't pleasant going today, but the farm will love the heat wave even if the farmer didn't.
Mr. Snake is harder to photograph than plants because unlike plants he doesn't stay still. But Saturday he slowed down enough for me to get a camera phone shot. He's well camouflaged but moving lower left to upper right.
I may be a teeny zucchini now, but by July I will take over the entire Tri-State Area! (That's a current pop culture reference but only if you have kids.)
Lettuce and volunteer tomatoes. I'll keep whichever one does better.
We have a couple dozen mulberry trees on the lot and the first berries are ripening. (This was a surprisingly hard shot to focus...)
Shamed at his inability to scare wabbits, Mr. Hoot Hoot hides in the bee balm. Carol DeProsse gave me a couple bee balm plants about ten years and three addresses ago, I transplanted some each move, and now it's proliferated to the point where it was very close to taking over the whole north garden as a de facto weed. But in a good way.
Anyway, anyone who wants some, I'll share.
This pole bean may be only four inches tall, but it's looking at those trees and has big ambitions.