Saturday, August 10, 2013

The news from When Pigs Fly Farm 3.0

Sorry, Will. I wish it were that easy with vegetable gardening.

It is the August of our discontent. The month where a growing season's imperfections and peculiarities begin to slap you upside the face. . . the month you realize there probably will be one lone lemon cucumber

Lemon cukes: All talk, no action.
and you should probably sign up for Remedial Radish 101 during the -- dare I say it -- winter. Ugh.

It is the month I see four bombastic tomato plants laden with, um, green tomatoes who have no apparent interest in ripening. . .

and one stinkin' zucchini vine producing one stinkin' squash a week.

Is it just me, or does this flippin' plant appear to be going "Bwahahahahahaha"?
(I know, I know. One zucchini a week isn't necessarily a bad thing. But it does put a damper on ricotta-stuffed squash blossoms -- one of last summer's gastronomic High Notes.)

August is the month of Why Didn't I's?

Why didn't I plant eggplant this year? (Forgot. Bubble over my date's head: "Thank god.")

Why didn't I plant more beets? (Because 4+ months of scarlet you-know-what is a bit discomforting. If you have to ask, you're not a beet eater.)

And why, why, WHY didn't I re-do the tomato tags because now I can't remember which green tomato is which? 

(This is actually kind of a big deal because one of my plants is an "Aunt Ruby's German Green" so I may have ripe tomatoes and. don't. even. know. it.)

#slightly embarrassing

Aunt Ruby. I know you are dead, but throw me a bone here.

On that happy note, let's move on. There are things to celebrate at The Farm:

One: There will be pumpkins. Meet the butt end of Percival.

He and his smaller brother, Paco, have tempered their meglomaniacal need for garden space somewhat (the operative word here is somewhat) and are concentrating on becoming Halloween-grade pumpkins.

Two: The When Pigs Fly Farm witness protection program seems to agree with Team Chicken. Now raccoon-free, the ladies are laying! You go, girls! And always remember what I said. . . .

And Three: As always. . . the reason we garden. . . there are new treasures to be discovered. Farmer Bob and Farma-natrix Kris are growing gift-wrapped tomatoes!

They conveniently let you know they are ripe by dropping to the ground.
Now would you fancy that?

Happy weekend from the opinionated plants
-- and perpetually hopeful farmers --
at When Pigs Fly Farm!


  1. I always enjoy your observations on growing veggies. If it's any solace to you, I have all flowers and no yellow squash and no cucumbers and only a handful of green beans so far this summer. The radishes didn't even come up in the first planting and look spindly in the second planting. I do have many green tomatoes and the beginning pods of chile peppers. Hope remains...there is still more than a month left in the growing season! I blame it all on the hole in he sun.

    1. I am so embracing the "hole in the sun" theory. It certainly couldn't be my gardening prowess, right?

  2. I'm impressed that you even "try" to have a produce producing garden. One of the reasons we sold our house in the suburbs and moved to an apartment in the city is that neither of us had the inclination nor the ability to garden. It was strictly Darwinian in our household, even for indoor plants. If you could survive on benign neglect you could stay. We no longer have any houseplants. If houseplantdom depended on us for survival, no one would have any houseplants. They would be extinct.
    PS: What's a lemon cucumber? It sounds more exciting than a cucumber cucumber.

    1. The only plants allowed in my perennial garden must bear the label "Drought tolerant/Thrives on neglect." And houseplants are not allowed.

      Lemon cukes are round and yellow and do, in fact, have a slight lemony taste/fragrance. I like them way better than the regular old version. Aside from the one lone cuke I harvested, I'm seeing them quite a bit at local farmers markets.